Chapter V
Prompt: Lassitude
A/N: Not what I wanted it to be, but close enough. Enjoy!
There was a small cottage near the forest outskirts that was once in foreclosure, now it belonged to Clint Barton. Legally, at least. He gave Natasha a key once he bought an apartment in the city. So, when she was nowhere to be found at headquarters, Clint assumed she took off somewhere isolated.
The cottage was the first place he looked. He found the door locked and windows sealed, but after fiddling with his key ring for some time he found one that let him in with ease. There were no misplaced objects when he entered, no imprints on the seats, no marks on the wooden floor from any shoes. There were no signs to prove to Natasha was there, but he still checked the only bedroom.
Nat was napping on her side, as if too overcome with lassitude to stir awake when he pushed the door open. Clint froze. Too afraid he might stir her awake the second he breathed. After what felt were hours, he hesitantly made his way over to the other side of the room. He noticed she wasn't under any blankets (and still in her combat suit), and he picked up a small quilt resting upon the only chair in the room. She shot up, eyes wide, staring at him before he could manage to even make it to where she was.
The blanket was dropped on the floor with a thud. She rubbed her temples, gradually relaxing her shoulders. "Oh, it's just you," she mumbled.
He swore that she was gone the second he blinked.