Ahhhh Clint and Natasha….OTP, I swear. I never read the comics at all, but after the movie I'm seriously hooked, and I read all their backstory and everything. Anyways, another typical-length drabble for all of you. I hope you liiike iiit~
prompt four: dark
word count: 209
It was the sixth night since the battle that Natasha hadn't slept a wink. She couldn't help it. Ever since Clint was back, she could tell he still wasn't feeling quite like his old self. It worried her and she hated that. As much as she tried to convince herself that she should stop caring so much about her partner and just focus on herself, it was getting harder and harder to deny the fact that she really did have feelings for him – whether they were platonic or romantic, she didn't know, and she didn't care to find out. I owe him a debt, she thought assuredly, I'm just repaying the debt. That's all.
But she knew that Clint was completely aware of her presence in his new room in Stark Tower. Every night she was there, watching him – watching over him. Curled up in the shadows, not thinking, not speaking, not moving a single microscopic muscle… she was just there. Sort of like a sinister version of a guardian angel. She knew that he knew she was there, but he said nothing and did nothing, and she was thankful. For often when Natasha was in the dark of the night, it was much easier for her to pretend.