Chapter II

Prompt: Lilt

Whenever Clint had his hearing aid in (which wasn't often), he'd sit as close to Nat as she would let him, straining to listen to the faint hum of a Slavic tune parting between her lips. She'd be engulfed in a book, giving him no notice as she sang mindlessly with a soft Russian lilt under her breath. She was never loud enough for him to make out what she was humming, but the tune stuck to his head, and his fingers would often wander off on their own and tap quietly to the beat stuck in his head. He made sure never to bring it up to her.