PROMPT: Three-sentence fic; Clintasha; tree
They sit together on the branch, Natasha leaning back against his chest as Clint props himself up against the rough bark of the tree.
"Have you ever seen something like this?" Natasha asks softly, both of them gazing out at the slowly-setting sun; it's a magnificent scene, of blinding golds and oranges and searing shades of that same red that drowns both their ledgers.
"Yes," Clint murmurs into her hair, breathing in her scent. But more beautiful, and infinitely more stunning, he thinks, and Natasha can feel his smile against the back of her neck.