[He holds it steady, and he takes her frustration, lets her hit it harder than she could otherwise. It's easy enough to judge the way the bag swings and adjust, but this is more satisfying.
He raises his eyebrows, and there's a furtive moment where she meets his eyes as she pulls back for a moment, looking at him and she can feel how the body pulls at her, how it twists. That bond that she doesn't know how to escape. Leaving, walking away from this conversation and from him would be the smart thing, but it feels like she's caught in his orbit.]
Almost too late. I thought there was a middle road.
[Some way where they all walked away from it. Her lips curl, and she shakes her head. It had been almost idealistic, really. The idea that she'd get to keep her friends, that maybe if they played it right she didn't have to lose anyone. Clearly Steve had been rubbing off on her.
She's quiet for a moment, even a pause in the rhythm of her punches.]
None of them know, really. Not everything.
[A low murmur, lips pressed thin. Clint knows the most, but she's never been the sort to bare her soul to anyone. Never felt particularly inclined to fill in the gaps in her file, to give him every bloody detail. And that's what the bond asks and gives, every dark secret, every man woman and child she's killed. He's killed. They get the blood on each others' hands and hope that together they can bear it.
I do! I'm natalia_vdova over there too :)
He raises his eyebrows, and there's a furtive moment where she meets his eyes as she pulls back for a moment, looking at him and she can feel how the body pulls at her, how it twists. That bond that she doesn't know how to escape. Leaving, walking away from this conversation and from him would be the smart thing, but it feels like she's caught in his orbit.]
Almost too late. I thought there was a middle road.
[Some way where they all walked away from it. Her lips curl, and she shakes her head. It had been almost idealistic, really. The idea that she'd get to keep her friends, that maybe if they played it right she didn't have to lose anyone. Clearly Steve had been rubbing off on her.
She's quiet for a moment, even a pause in the rhythm of her punches.]
None of them know, really. Not everything.
[A low murmur, lips pressed thin. Clint knows the most, but she's never been the sort to bare her soul to anyone. Never felt particularly inclined to fill in the gaps in her file, to give him every bloody detail. And that's what the bond asks and gives, every dark secret, every man woman and child she's killed. He's killed. They get the blood on each others' hands and hope that together they can bear it.
She can't pretend that doesn't shake her.]