Disclaimer: I own nothing.

So, my Clintasha muse isn't done with me yet. But this will not be sad and heart-breaking.

No, no, no, my sweet readers. This will be a cute, fluffy, happy one-shot with lemons. It's kind of a song fic cause I've been listening to 1D a bit, so it'll be based off their song "More Than This." I figure Clint is a guitar kinda guy, and Nat probably enjoys a good song every so often.

Anyway, I'll shut up and let you guys get right to it.

Love always,

Avoline

Clint plucked at the strings of the guitar, his headphones on, trying to figure out the song by ear. He wasn't sure why, but something told him that she would enjoy this song more than the others. He almost had it, not that it was that difficult to figure out. He'd been learning songs on guitar by ear about as long as he's been shooting arrows with perfect accuracy.

"Clint?" He glanced up to see his red-headed partner standing at the door to his room. "What on Earth are you doing?" He grinned and took off his headphones.

"Learning a new song," he answered.

"How long have you been playing guitar?"

"Since I was about eight," he replied. "When I wasn't working on my aim, I was learning songs by ear." She sat on the edge of the bed and met his gaze.

"Play for me," she stated simply. His jaw dropped at her request.

"Nat, I've never played in front of someone else," he argued.

"Then imagine that I'm not here," she countered. "I wanna hear you play, Clint." He took a deep breath, knowing better than to try and argue with her. He closed his eyes, remembering the notes one by one of the song he had just learned.

"I'm broken, do you hear me? I'm blinded, cause you are everything I see, I'm dancin' alone, I'm praying that your heart will just turn around."

For just a moment, it was simply him and the instrument. The room fell away, his voice growing stronger as he found the state of mind he needed. For a moment, there was no room, no bed, no Natasha. He played, not caring if he was following the song perfectly. This was his heart, played out by the sound of the guitar. His emotions flowed from him into the instrument in his hands.

"If I'm louder, would you see me? Would you lay down in my arms and rescue me? 'Cause we are the same. You save me, when you leave it's gone again."

With reality forgotten, his thoughts wandered to how he felt about the red-head. He had saved her life, and in her own way, she had saved him. He had learned to better control his temper, something he had thought impossible. She proved to him, over and over again, that he would never be like his father, that he was better than that. Yet he couldn't muster the courage to tell her that he loved her, that she was his everything. If she were to ever leave, or give her heart to anyone else, he was sure that it would kill him. She was the only woman for him, and would always be the only woman.

"That was beautiful."

He felt his face heat up as her voice yanked him from the void. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. He had completely forgotten that she was there. Was she even aware that the song he played was the embodiment of how he felt? He didn't dare open his eyes. He couldn't face her, not after making a fool of himself.

"Why are you embarrassed, Clint," she inquired. He sighed, setting the guitar aside and meeting her gaze.

"Cause every word I just sang is the truth," he whispered. She turned her head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean," she questioned. He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes again.

"I mean just that," he began. "I have felt this way for a few years now, but have been too scared to say anything. Cause you could find someone better, someone who had a better life than I've had." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You once said love is for children. If you truly believe that, then consider me a child. Cause I love you, Natasha Romanoff. And I can only pray that you could eventually feel the same way about me."

She stared at him, her jaw dropped, and he knew he had blown it. Who was he kidding? She wasn't the sentimental kind. The closes to sentiment she had ever shown was thanking him over and over for making a different call and saving her life. But, now that it was her life, why would she bother tying herself down to him? As often as he had slipped and nearly raised a hand to her, as often as he had reprimanded her when she first started with S.H.E.I.L.D. She had every right to laugh at him right now.

"If that's true, then we can be childish together." His head snapped up at her words. "Clint, you saved me. I know I was resistant to you at first, but now, things have changed. You're the only one who understands me, and if the music you just performed is a glimpse into your soul, I would be a fool to not love you." He stared, not sure what to say.

"Nat," he murmured as she crawled to him. Her lips met his, and he didn't bother to hold back, pouring all his passion into the kiss. He tangled his fingers into her hair and pulled her as close to his body as possible.

"Clint," she breathed as the kiss ended. He smiled against her lips.

"Maybe I should play guitar more often."

"You might get better results from that."