Now it was Natasha’s turn to frown as Clint awkwardly poked at his food, his voice at odds with his words. Had she said something wrong? Did he think this was another debt thing, that she was only offering because she felt like she owed it to him? She felt a flash of anger at the thought, that after all this time he could still believe that, that he could still boil her involvement in their relationship down to making good on debts she felt she owed.
Glaring down at her plate, she stabbed a few vegetable with controlled precision and popped them into her mouth, chewing slowly as she inwardly began berated herself for jumping to conclusions. It could be something entirely different, she didn’t know what was in his mind.
He soon proved that last thought true.
His words were touching, even if part of him wanted to slap him for being so silly. She had never had anyone care about her that much, never had anyone truly worry about her, about what she wanted. She had lived so many years doing what she was told to do; it didn’t matter what she wanted or didn’t want, what she liked or didn’t. She did what she had to do, what was required of her, but she never had to do that with Clint.
Setting her fork on her plate, Natasha reached across the table to take his hand. “I wouldn’t do anything I don’t want to do,” she reassured him quietly. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” more than she could really put into words, “but we can always talk about things beforehand. If you want.”
And if he would rather forget the whole thing she wouldn’t push the matter, at least not tonight, but she hoped he would feel comfortable enough to talk to her about things. Wasn’t that why many men strayed? Because they couldn’t get what they wanted at home? Natasha felt certain that Clint would never cheat on her, but she wanted him to be happy and satisfied. She wanted to know about his fantasies, and maybe she could even make some of them come true.
no subject
Glaring down at her plate, she stabbed a few vegetable with controlled precision and popped them into her mouth, chewing slowly as she inwardly began berated herself for jumping to conclusions. It could be something entirely different, she didn’t know what was in his mind.
He soon proved that last thought true.
His words were touching, even if part of him wanted to slap him for being so silly. She had never had anyone care about her that much, never had anyone truly worry about her, about what she wanted. She had lived so many years doing what she was told to do; it didn’t matter what she wanted or didn’t want, what she liked or didn’t. She did what she had to do, what was required of her, but she never had to do that with Clint.
Setting her fork on her plate, Natasha reached across the table to take his hand. “I wouldn’t do anything I don’t want to do,” she reassured him quietly. “I appreciate you looking out for me,” more than she could really put into words, “but we can always talk about things beforehand. If you want.”
And if he would rather forget the whole thing she wouldn’t push the matter, at least not tonight, but she hoped he would feel comfortable enough to talk to her about things. Wasn’t that why many men strayed? Because they couldn’t get what they wanted at home? Natasha felt certain that Clint would never cheat on her, but she wanted him to be happy and satisfied. She wanted to know about his fantasies, and maybe she could even make some of them come true.