Chapter 14
"Don't run away,
Don't run away,"
Clint sat on a table as he watched Natasha shoot one target after another with perfect accuracy. She was a natural - but skills like hers came with so many hidden scars.
"You have a really good shot," Clint said suddenly. She paused.
"It came with a price," she said staring at the weapon in her hand.
"Everything has a price Natasha," Clint said quietly. She sighed and put the gun down.
"Sometimes I feel like mine was too high," she said turning towards him. He gave her a sad look.
"Do you want to learn archery?" he asked instead of giving her empty words that can't change her past. She gave him a confused look.
"What?" she asked. He jumped off the table and picked up his bow off the ground.
"Do you want me to teach you archery?" he asked again.
"But that's your art Clint - not mine," she said in confusion. He shrugged.
"I don't mind sharing," he said walking up to her. He replaced the gun in her hand with his bow.
"How does it feel?" he asked curiously.
"I feel like I'm going to whack myself," she dryly holding the bow at an awkward angle. He laughed and fixed her grip so that it didn't feel so weird anymore. He handed her an arrow and watched her stare at the sleek projectile.
"Remind me to shoot the next SHIELD agent that says archery is a wimpy skill. This is next to impossible," she said in disbelief. Clint rolled his eyes and walked up behind her. He positioned the bow in her left hand and used her right hand to pull the arrow back against the string.
"Now aim and let go," he whispered beside her. She glanced at his sudden close proximity and let go of the arrow several seconds before she could focus properly. They watched it soar through air and smack into the target board on the other side of the room.
She missed by a mile.
"Not bad for a first try," he said with a shrug. She gave him a dirty look.
"You're a distracting teacher," she muttered. He snorted.
"Now that is not my fault," he said holding his hands above his head. She narrowed her eyes at him. She promptly picked up a new arrow, pullrd back the bow and shot the target the farthest away from them.
Bang.
She made a perfect bullseye shot.
Clint gaped at her work.
"Okay so maybe it was slightly my fault..." Clint said sheepishly. She huffed and held the bow out for him to take back.
"It's nice - but not quite my style," she mumbled.
"Have you ever thought about learning a new skill that's not tied to unpleasant memories?" he asked suddenly. She looked up at his questioning eyes warily.
"The weapon doesn't matter Clint - it's not what leaves the shadows behind," she said quietly.
Clint brushed her bangs out of her eyes and drew a little pattern down the side of her face. She stared at him as his eyes followed the path his finger was making.
"Your scars may be invisible Natasha...but I can see them," Clint said softly. She glanced down as his chest and placed her hand there lightly.
"How many of your own do you have Clint?" she asked quietly.
"Does it matter?" he asked curling a strand of red hair behind her ear. She furrowed her brow.
"It always matters," she said uncertainly. He laughed softly.
"What if you could forget all the dark things that have every happened to you Tasha? What if you could start your life all over again? Who would you want to be?" he asked tilting his head to the side.
"I wouldn't do that," she said looking away from him. Now it was his turn to look confused.
"Why not?" he asked quietly. She look down at the well worn bow in her hand and held it tighter.
"Because then I would never have met you," she said finally looking up at him with all the truth in the world.
A/N: Sorry guys! I had writer's block - I had no idea where the date should go so we're just going to keep time jumping.