046.1 Muse Prompt

[theassassin]

"You're just barely hanging by a thread
You wanna scream but you're down to your last breath"

-One Day You Will, Lady Antebellum

She's curled against him, her head on his chest, his arms around her and the blanket pulled snugly around them. Its warm here, comfortable and the closest to home she's ever known, nothing at all like the unforgiving embrace of the Motherland. They were cruel and cold, and they made her believe that that's how she should be. It wasn't until she went with him that she started to feel vibrant. Over time she began to thaw, working with him taking the deep chill out of her.

They spent the morning like this, talking, at times laughing... Mostly being close to each other and reminding one another what it is about each other they care so much about. He pets her hair, his lips moving against it, and at time his voice so low she can hardly hear him, but he's talking and that's something. And yet she finds the further she's able to draw him out, the deeper she sinks.

It's like quicksand, they need each other to pull them out, and stubborn refusal to ask for help buried them up to their necks... She barely saved him. Working him out little by little. Kept him from drowning completely. She can't ask him to help her- not so soon... No, asking him to bear that weight now will only prove to push them both back under.

Sometimes a person has to make the difficult choice. They have to sacrifice themselves for the good of others. They- Clint and Phil, they taught her that... Phil having been 'lost' that day on the Helicarrier is a perfect example. You do what you have to do to save those around you. So she swallows her own problems, chokes them down as bitter and poisonous as they are and keeps her focus on getting him out.

She'll bear his weight and carry him until he's out of this and if in the end she drowns-- she'll have to hope that she uncovered him enough to not get sucked under again. She'll have to hope that... By that point Phil is in a place to save them both. Because she can't do it anymore.

It's getting better, He's getting better, or so she hopes. Some days lately it's gotten difficult to see passed her own fog and focus on whether he's actually opening back up to her or if she's just delusioned herself into believing he has.

She nuzzles into the space under his chin, her lips pressed against his throat, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin and sighs. She hates the fact that she's lost herself, and at this point she knows he's still talking because she can feel the vibration of his voice against her lips, but she doesn't actually hear him anymore.

It's her turn to drift, and disconnect. She's safe here though and for the moment she can just let it happen, she's gotten good at doing so-- and not letting anyone notice. It's easy enough to fix things if they do. A well placed hand in response to being caught with that far away look, easy enough to reason away her apparently lack of focus as need for something else.

'Hmm? Oh I'm sorry... I missed the question, I was thinking about how it might feel to have you fuck me against that wall.' It isn't exactly playing fair, but she finds that most often men are easy enough to deal with if you have the right tools.

She noses in against his throat, nudging at him to stop they've exchanged enough words for now, and clouds are rolling in, dark and heavy, a storm is coming. Not that she's ready to move just yet. No, honestly this entire exercise has reminded her of so many reasons why he's important to her, and while she believes the point may have gotten across, and she's finally making some headway-- she's feeling just a little bit selfish, perhaps a little needy. No one ever sees her-- to say that would be a little better than a lie, they see her, her two but lately he hasn't been able to see passed himself well enough to actually look at her. That fact is eating away at her... but she can't blame anyone but herself, really. It's not like she's letting him in.

"Clint?" She whispers against his chin, her lips moving along his jaw... days old stubble rough against her lips. "Baby? Can we maybe... stop talking for a little while?" Her hands drift down his chest to his waist she tugs at the belt on the robe he's wearing. The first drops of rain begin falling.

Drop.

Drop.

The break between them long and drawn out. The drops themselves are fresh and cool against her skin. Her eyes meet his, vibrant green, and if he looks deep enough they'd reflect back the same emptiness that he's been feeling lately. She doesn't give him the chance, to look too deeply though, breaking from his gaze as she catches his lips. Closing her eyes against any further scrutiny.

The kiss is full of passion she wasn't sure she had anymore-- didn't know she was capable of until the moment their lips met and that tiny spark of life she has left ignited into something bigger. She scrambles in his lap, tugging at white terry-cloth working for a better position over him. "I love you." Whispered in between kisses, while her hands smooth over bare skin and wander over hidden flesh.

"I've been so afraid I was going to lose you." Rocking in his lap, her hands come up... diving into his hair and she tugs at it, the grip firm but still carrying a gentle affection, her lips find his again with a soft panting groan. This is... part desperation, part pure affection and part distraction from the bigger issue that is her own edging closer to tumbling into the same abyss that he spent the last few months staring into.

Right now, though as the storm over the city builds-- the fire in her becomes a raging inferno. Emotions all spilling together in a confusing heady mix of desire and discontent. The dissonance is almost enough to make her want to pull her hair out. How any of them manage not to completely fall apart under the constant emotional onslaught is a testament to their strength of will and the depth of their love for each other. She's not sure some days how she survives, or how any of them do. There is a war raging inside her, part of her wanting to break away-- another wanting nothing more than to feel that 'connection' between them and have him lift her up so high she shatters apart and doesn't have to /think/ about anything else even if it's for just those few minutes.

"I can't lose you, okay?" She breathes, her voice wavering as she tucks her head back under his chin to hide her face. Stupidly... her better sense taking over and guilt slams her back into a place more in tune with reality. "Don't leave me out in the cold like this again. I can't take it."

She's done so well to hold it all together, but she faltered today. She was vulnerable and exposed the deepest parts of herself to him. She bared her soul. It was right there for him to take. And he did... Tangled together on the balcony in the rain they each offered the other every part of themselves, heart and soul. For the first time in a long time they were connected enough to feel the honesty in the actions not just disappear in each other like they had been so many times lately.

She had stiffened, when she felt his lips on her skin- hardened her heart to the tenderness and tried to steal herself away in that place where she can be distant but not cold. But he's so sincere. And she needs him so much. She sighs, relaxing into the warm hands and soft lips, he needs her. She'll give him everything as long as he's okay again. He saved her life so many years ago, she owes him that much.

For the second time that day they'd made love, and for those few moments she'd felt more alive and part of something than she had since before those fucking aliens, and that stupid 'god' had turned their world upside-down. She was herself, more herself than she'd been since she found out the truth about Phil that she'd been denying for so long. It's like that day... she started building a wall... brick by brick. Closing herself off from everyone else to retreat into a safer place where there isn't so much pain.

But that place is an ill-fit. It's hollowed out and so cold there... Like a harsh Siberian winter, everything is frozen in place, but its stability is constantly shifting. The wall she built around herself is flimsy and crumbling, huge cracks run along the length of it letting little glimpses of someone weak and broken show through. She hates that.

"I love you, Nat. I love you so damn much."

She wanted to burst into tears, when she heard those words pass his lips. How can anyone love her? She's damaged and broken. Back home, she would have been 'released' by now. She's useless. She clutched at him holding him close, swaddled in loving words, strong arms and warm water. Her eyes closed, her face pressed against his neck, nodding her acknowledgement-- her understanding, the real answer coming in the form of a breath stealing, dare she say earth moving orgasm, which had her shuddering and whimpering against his neck.

"I love you... I love you. I'm so lost." Whispered between, near sobs... she can't breathe the weight of everything crashing down on her like the sudden boom of thunder outside. The admission coming as a shock even to her. So many times, so much about her, and how she truly feels goes unspoken, unheard and unseen. She holds so much in... So much so often. She feels oddly relieved to let someone in on her deepest most personal secrets. "I'm so lost and I don't know if I can get back on my own."

He'd held her, and kissed her face, her eyes, her cheeks... her forehead, her lips... he cradled her face between his hands and promised her again she wasn't alone. And then he put her in bed, with her plate and he left her.

She watched him go-- the first time he's really been out of her sight for a week. A plate of partially eaten dinner sits on the bed side table. She gave him what he wanted, taking a few bites from her plate before he left to show she was willing to eat it, and she shooed him out the door. The click of the lock is like a levy breaking. She'd been shattered on the verge of breaking or a long time now... Like splintered glass, every day the cracks spread-- everyday they're worse. Every little bit of building pressure a constant reminder than any moment could be the end...

He promised her. He promised he'd never would leave her again.

She knows....

She knows this doesn't count.

She knows that this isn't what he meant when he promised her that.

At the same time as soon as he was gone... the weight settled back on her shoulders. The darkness started creeping back in. Now alone she without something to focus on she feels the hard pull of panic in her chest... The tight clutching squeeze of guilt in her heart and she shatters like weakened splintered glass. Curling into his pillow she sobs, shaking with the force of them.

Vaguely, she's aware of the little things she needs to do to be sure he doesn't catch her-- have Room-Service clear her untouched plate, turn on a movie and at least read the synopsis so she can claim to have paid some attention to it-- but she can't bring herself to care this time. Eventually, sleep claims her like a merciful ghost. She loses herself in a dreamless deep slumber.

She woke up screaming reaching out for him and finds only the empty space passed his side of the bed. Her throat aches, her whole body aches from crying. She's alone... part of her thinks this is how she belongs. Cold and crying. Payment for all the awful things she did in her life before coming here. In the time before Clint and Phil found her.

Maybe they've forgotten her. Maybe they would be better off if they did. Maybe... she closes her eyes again, before rolling back to her side of the bed to grab her cell phone and turn it on. Check for text messages. Check the time. She sighs finding nothing and curls back up with her back to the door, letting his side of the bed go cool like it should be without someone to occupy it. To use it as a reminder.

She settles back against him...automatically seeking some form of solid comfort from him. She feels so conflicted...seeking him out is weakness and she's already so weak. She makes a strangled sound her hands grabbing at his to pull them tighter around her. "I stayed. Don't go again... it's too dark when you're gone." Her words come out murmured barely awake and heavy with her Russian accent. She's exhausted, but she spins toward him. Her hands on his chest. Then his face she breaks apart again her face against his chest. She cries and doesn't bother hiding her tears from him. Her voice is distant and empty. "You left. I was alone."

He clenches his eyes shut to abate the flow of tears, but a few escape anyway. His lips pressed against her head, he clutches onto her as tightly as he can. "I won't leave again, I promise."

She breathes a sigh of relief and presses her lips to his chest. His neck. His chin. "I know. If you do I'll understand"