post-PFSB EP

[hasthehighground]

Clint walks through the door into his (empty) apartment, and slings the bounce-y ball with all of his force into the bathroom. He hears it hitting off of the tiles before there're a series of plastic thuds as containers are knocked onto the floor, then silence. He sighs; tries to breathe deep, but can't manage it. He pinches the bridge of his nose instead, and slides down the wall so he's resting on the balls of his feet, facing the front door.

He can do this. He just --

He just.

Comments

[hasthehighground]

"We can do that."

...This seems to have exhausted Clint's planning capacity. He presses a kiss into her hair, and rolls to his feet. He stares into the kitchen for a moment, then down at her.

"Waffles?" he queries; it's both would you like some and have you taken my ingredients.

[redintheledger]

She would never take your ingredients, Clint, without making full plans for a grocery run in the very near future.

"Waffles sound amazing."

Lunch was a while ago for her. And, not much of one.