Clint usually loved to make Natasha laugh. It wasn’t something she often did around other people, so when he managed to win one it always felt like a victory. Natalie’s laugh sounded different, though; not nearly as satisfying. To everyone else it probably sounded carefree but to Clint it was completely fake. Still, he put on a shy grin, looking rather pleased with himself. “Well, I mean, I can’t accept an F, right? I need at least a passing grade.”

His skin was rough but her hands were smooth, soft, just like the rest of her body. “I won’t let you fall,” he said quietly, and for a brief moment both lives bled together. He wondered if she knew he had fallen long ago.

“It’s not easy, lots of boxes to move, supplies to unpack and shelf... just as exciting as it sounds, really. Means I don’t gotta go to the gym all the time, though.” Reminding her of the physique his dress shirt and jacket were hiding certainly couldn’t hurt his case.

When the cab pulled up out front he opened the door for them with one hand, keeping hold of her arm with her other.