[ There's a thought that passes, unguarded and unfiltered, through her head. It's the kind that says I love you, the words pressing at him like her hands do when she moves above him in the dark — the kind that's anchoring, letting him focus on what he needs to before tackling his own. (She doesn't need his reassurances, but this isn't about that.) ]
We could join the circus, [ Natasha says, a half-attempt at some kind of joke. ] Learn magic tricks. Run away from this life of crime.
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We could join the circus, [ Natasha says, a half-attempt at some kind of joke. ] Learn magic tricks. Run away from this life of crime.