[ For a moment, she's silent, her eyes still closed. And she's glad he can't see her face, because she's not sure she can successfully hide the sudden rip of aching agony that tears through her.
Oh, how she wishes.
His words float through her memory now, haunting her. We don't always get what we want. She hates that he'd been right. Again.
But he doesn't know that. She can't tell him that. Not yet. She's not ready. not ready for any of them to know. It's already affecting how Clint's treating her - she can see it every time he looks at her. She can't yet bear to see that mirrored in Bruce's eyes. In Steve's. In the others.
So she pulls out every bit of acting skill she possesses to tip her head back and smile at him, letting it warm her eyes. Focusing instead on the here and now. ]
no subject
Oh, how she wishes.
His words float through her memory now, haunting her. We don't always get what we want. She hates that he'd been right. Again.
But he doesn't know that. She can't tell him that. Not yet. She's not ready. not ready for any of them to know. It's already affecting how Clint's treating her - she can see it every time he looks at her. She can't yet bear to see that mirrored in Bruce's eyes. In Steve's. In the others.
So she pulls out every bit of acting skill she possesses to tip her head back and smile at him, letting it warm her eyes. Focusing instead on the here and now. ]
No time like the present to find out, hmm?
[ Especially when it's all she has. ]