A/N: Hey guys thanks for liking the first chapter. I'm glad to say I plan on updating pretty frequently. Hopefully you guys like this story. My twin sister got mad at me for basing Brooklyn's dead sister "Lilly" after her. So yeah as some of you might tell, this is my first story on and I really hope I'll post more stories after this one. So I hope you like this chapter and feel free to review and point out my mistakes so I can fix them. -xxxUnknowngirlxxx

"Caw caw mother fuckers."

With a gasp, Brooklyn shot up out of her bed. Or not her bed. In fact, she had no clue of where the hell she was. With a quick glance around the foreign room, she guessed it belonged to a man. A man who which was currently taking a shower in the connected bathroom and was more likely than not, the man who had saved her in the alleyway.

Deciding it was not in her best interest to stick around until the man came out of the bathroom, Brooklyn quietly jumped out of the bed and headed to the bedroom door. Just as her small hand touched the door knob…

"Where do you think you're going?"

Brooklyn almost pissed herself, scared shitless by the man who had somehow managed to get out of the bathroom without her noticing. Turning around to face the mysterious man, Brooklyn was surprised of what she found. She had expect some old creep or some elderly man who had somehow managed not to break his hip, but this; this was something entirely different.

The man had damp dirty blonde hair and his pale grey eyes seemed to bore into her soul. He was fit, that was for sure. Water dripped down his toned muscles and to his towel which hung low on his hips. Realizing she was staring, Brooklyn blushed and brought her eyes up to his. Remembering he had asked her a question, Brooklyn quickly dismissed all of her thoughts about what she thought laid under that white towel.

"Uh, um… I don't mean to come off as rude, but I really don't have a clue about who you are and I'd like to go, you know, home."

Chuckling at her flustered state, the man walked closer to her, his thin towel sliding even lower on his hips. "What's your name, blue?"He asked, calling her by a nickname she got called more than she would have preferred because of the hue of her hair.

"Brooklyn Veronica Rayne."

"Clinton Francis Barton," he mocked," but you, Miss Brooklyn Veronica Rayne, may call me Clint."

Embarrassed, Brooklyn extended her hand for him to shake. He gently took her hand in his and the pair jumped apart when they felt sparks run through their hands and along their arms.

"Um, I'll go make some coffee."

Clint walked out of the room, leaving Brooklyn alone once again. Sighing, Brooklyn threw herself back on Clint's bed, eyes staring at the blank ceiling.

She knew she would have to leave soon but she couldn't help but wonder how much happier she could feel if she actually attempted to make some type of a relationship with someone other than her bed. Knowing she should probably say goodbye to Clint, Brooklyn pushed herself up from the oversized bed, and forced herself out the bedroom door and to the kitchen where she assumed Clint was waiting.

Clint was waiting in the kitchen, his eyes set on watching the mug of coffee that sat on the marble counter. She silently crept up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, it had obviously surprised him, causing him to instinctively grip his hand around her throat and push her up against the nearest wall.

Gasping for air, Brooklyn's chocolate brown eyes widened, tears instantly forming in them. Recognizing her, Clint quickly dropped his hand from her throat and slowly backed away.

"Oh god, Brooklyn, I'm so sorry I didn't… I didn't mean to…"

Brooklyn was confused as to why Clint was so upset about this, she did her best to try to assure him that she wasn't upset.

"Clint shh… it's okay I'm not upset."She crouched down to where Clint was huddled in the corner and place a gentle hand on his tense shoulder. "Clint, sweetie, it's okay. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

As Brooklyn tried her best to calm down Clint, she was sure of one thing; she wasn't leaving anytime soon.