Casually avoiding my responsibilities like Quicksilver avoids bullets.

Oh. Wait…

The average person blinks 28,800 times in a day. Each blink takes approximately 0.3 to 0.4 seconds for your eyes to fully close and then reopen. It may not seem like much, but these milliseconds add up. With all these blinks, all these moments of darkness, the average person ends up having their eyes closed for half an hour every day. And if you add that up, a person will spend five years of their life blinking; missing the world around them in order to be more comfortable with the back of their eyelids.

Pietro lives in these moments.

Time works differently for speedsters. While any regular person would pass by this nanosecond of darkness, Pietro lives through it. He watches these moments, well aware of them. A normal person would be looking forward to the next hour of day, but Pietro would look forward to the next millisecond, or if he was feeling a little ambitious, the next second.

Any human racer of any kind, wither they're a runner, swimmer, rider or driver, understands how long a second is. When your only opponent is a clock, dropping a second off your time is the hardest thing in the world. As you speed to the finish line, everyone is watching that millisecond row fly by, but the second stands solid; lasting for centuries.

When Pietro first became accustomed to these centuries, he was locked in a cell. The experiments he volunteered for were gruesome and as he fell further and further under the scientist's control; as his powers strengthened, these painful seconds lasted years for him.

But these moments that everyone else speeds past are helpful in some ways. While his body is still, Pietro's mind is whirling past comprehendible speeds. With each nanosecond that ticks by, Pietro is swimming deeper and deeper into his thoughts.

Sometimes he gets lost in these little centuries. Wanda would be talking to her brother normally and everything would be alright. But then she'd blink and her brother was suddenly lost in concentration and she had to pull him out of the world she'll never see.

The speedster could take one of these small centuries to count how many times he stopped while Wanda was blinking and ran off to find a fact that would win an argument against her. His sister hated when he did this the most. She'd argue with him and mid-word he'd have a book from nowhere, showing her why she's wrong.

When he met the Avengers, and they reluctantly became friends, Pietro had fun playing with them in this world of his own.

Early in the mornings, when Tony was out of his lab only to make another coffee run, Pietro would be sitting on the counter, ignoring his nightmares. Tony would give a strained smile and mutter, "Late night?"

Pietro pursed his lips and replied, "Early morning."

Tony nodded and waited for his coffee to brew. "It gets better. I don't have as many nightmares about Afghanistan anymore."

"As many? So you still have them?" Pietro almost felt sorry for him. He had heard about Tony's past and understood everything the man had gone through. How much he changed.

Tony shrugged as he watched his cup be refilled, "You can't get everything in this kind of job. I'm just happy you and Wanda are alright."

Pietro nodded seriously. He watched as Tony ran a hand down his face and turned to take his cup of coffee. In the time it took for Stark to blink, Pietro had stolen the cup and returned to his seat.

Tony took a second to stare at the empty spot on the counter before he turned to glare at Pietro.

The white haired boy sipped his cup innocently, "Hopefully you can get a new coffee in this kind of job." He said, holding back a grin.

Stark sighed and muttered, "Not as happy that you're alright." He begrudgingly started to make a new coffee.

Pietro did these things with everyone. When they blinked he would be gone or on the other side of the room, or holding what they were looking for. He did anything just to keep himself entertained.

He found out that the most entertaining Avenger was none other than the neighborhood's friendly archer. Teasing Clint sent a shiver up Pietro's spine. He loved every millisecond of it.

Especially the milliseconds; because in those moments, Clint was his and he could take the entire small century to just stare at Hawkeye and no one would be the wiser. Sometimes he did just that.

On one account, when the team was watching a movie together, Pietro was sitting next to Clint on the couch. During blinks, Pietro liked to pretend that the two were on a date.

He would slip his fingers into Clint's hand and hold it there for a few nanoseconds, just enjoying the warmth of Clint's skin. When he got brave, he threw his arm around Clint's shoulders as the man was mid-syllable. Pietro liked how nicely Clint's body felt next to his. But as the millisecond spilled into a second, Pietro shifted away and acted as though nothing happened; which, for Clint, nothing did.

Sometimes, Pietro would outright hug Clint. He wished he could spend longer than milliseconds embracing the other man, but it simply wasn't possible. Clint could never know about how he felt, about what he was doing. So he kept to his world between blinks. He never mentioned it to anyone, not even Wanda. Although he was fairly sure she already knew.

Clint would notice the back end of these events. He could sometimes feel a lingering touch that must have just been his imagination. He would lick his lips and look away if Pietro just so happened to be a fraction closer to him than he thought he was.

A shiver would run down Clint's spine for no reason. Or his skin would feel buzzed with excitement, even thought Pietro was on the other side of the room. He couldn't really explain it, and most the time he ignored it.

But he couldn't ignore the wide, carefree smile on Pietro's face. Clint would smile back, and a small part of Pietro's mind let him believe that what he was doing in between seconds could really happen for a full second, maybe a minute if he felt exceedingly hopeful. But then Clink would blink and look away, and Pietro tried to hide his disappointment.

They were just talking when it happened. Pietro and Clint were alone in the archer's training room. He occasionally shot an arrow that Pietro would grab before it hit the target.

It wasn't any rigorous training; they were hardly sweating. Really they were just talking; the shoot-and-chase game they played was more like a pastime, similar to how a normal pair would toss a ball back and forth.

"Did you pick to be fast? Or did they just, kinda," Clint shot an arrow, he blinked and Pietro had hardly moved, but the arrow was hanging calming at his side. Clint huffed in annoyance, "assign it to you?"

Pietro handed the arrow back to Clint, "I did not pick this. They had many different typed of experiments that they were testing. Mine just happened to be speed."

Clint nodded at this, "It suits you." He notches the arrow and focuses on the target. "I mean, you're quick-witted, young, and strong. It only makes sense you'd be fast too."

Time, once again, slowed down for Pietro. He watched Clint's lips form each teasing syllable as he added, "You're the total package." The archer released the arrow. But Pietro didn't run towards the target. Instead he ran to the man he's fallen for. Without any thought, he grabs Clint's face in his hands and slams their lips together; desperately attacking the older man's mouth. His hands raked through Clint's short hair.

It was everything Pietro ever wanted, to be this close, to share this connection with Clint. Pietro's breathing was quick and uneven, like he was still fighting Ultron's army. His heart pounded in his ears in a way he never heard before. It was perfect.

But milliseconds were rapidly turning into a second.

And Pietro had to move away.

The speedster tried to act natural as time sped up again. Clint gave him an odd look and for a second, Pietro was terrified that he stayed to long, kiss him too hard. But the archer just nodded to the target, where the arrow was stuck, right in the middle of the bull's-eye.

"What?" Clint teased, grinning wildly, "Didn't you see that one coming?"

Pietro wanted to roll his eyes, but as he walked to the target, all he could think about was those milliseconds where his emotions took over his judgment. He's not surprised it happened. He lets his emotions take over all the time. But that kiss…

It was the best moment in Pietro's young life.

But Clint blinked.

And he missed it.

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