𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 - 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩¹ ✔

two | help needed

-TWO-

Ophelia rolled up her flannel shirt sleeves, making sure she had them up a safe distance away from her canvas. She placed the paintbrush between her teeth and put her hair up in a tight bun, readying herself for the mess which was to come. She began to paint a landscape of a beach sunset. Frightfully common, yes, but her creativity was stunted. Ever since she had met Clint two days ago, she was having trouble focusing on anything.

As her brush shuttled between the canvas an acrylic paints on the side, she felt her focus return to her body, and slipped into a blissful state. Her headphone wires bounced every time she made a sharp movement, but only so much that she didn't get distracted.

Her peace was interrupted by a loud tapping on her window, making her grumble under her breath and place the brush in the paint-stained jar next to her. She approached the window tentatively, her foot hovering over her sword, which had been carelessly tossed to the side, incase she needed to defend herself.

Upon seeing Clint along with a stranger, she slammed her foot on her sword hilt, catching it as it flipped upwards and into her hand. She growled, "I will not hesitate to throw you both out of this window if you don't tell me what is going on and who the hell she is."

She grabbed the girl by the collar and pulled her inside, slamming said girl into the wall. Ophelia's sword tip was quivering mere inches away from the stranger's throat as she hissed, "I'm gonna ask you three questions. Answer one in a lie and this tip is going to slice out that pretty little voice box. Who are you, why are you here, and what business do you have with Clint?"

"I'm Kate Bishop, I'm here cause Clint told me he knew you could help us and I'm his friend helping him solve a mystery please don't kill me." She replied in one breath.

"Why didn't you use the door like a normal person?!" She directed her question to both of them, letting go of the woman promptly. "You could've spared two minutes to knock, you know."

"It was the kid's idea, don't blame me." Shrugged Clint. 

"You've watched one too many films, darling," Ophelia scoffed, "I mean, why else would you find it acceptable to break into someone's house through a window, if you were not a film geek?"

"I have no explanation." Came Kate's curt reply, but her voice was still an octave higer than usual with fear. 

The huntress pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance before sighing sharply, "What help do you need?" 

"Well, Tiny here, has managed to get herself on the Tracksuits' radar." Clint pointed at Kate, who was inspecting Ophelia's sword, Venatrix.

"Hey, I'm not Tiny!" Kate exclaimed, offended. Ophelia raised an eyebrow, saying, "The Tracksuits? Darling you're out of your mind." Clint nodded as the assassin continued, "And my help is needed because...?"

"Well, Clint said you could help us." Kate chimed in, putting the sword where she found it.

Ophelia's eyes went from silver to stone grey as she glared at her friend, "Clinton Francis Barton, you came to me to ask for help just to get Tiny here away from the Tracksuits? You realise that puts me in danger, right?"

"Sorry, but I know no one else who actually can help." Clint admitted, "And never say my full name. Ever." He directed this at Kate who was wheezing at the name.

"Don't you have your own apartment, Tiny?" Ophelia asked, turning around to face Kate.

Scoffing, Kate replied, "First of all, stop calling my Tiny. Second, I had an apartment. Our tracksuit friends kind of burnt it down."