𝗔 𝗬𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪-𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘, 𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗛-𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗟𝗘, 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞-𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗘 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗘𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗞𝗬, the sun slowly setting as birds flew across it. The deep green trees stood still, surrounding the land as far as the human eye could see, which provided a tree-like smell—similar to pine—mixed with the scent of Laura's cooking. The temperature was perfect. It wasn't too cold, and it wasn't too hot—it was just right. And, aside from the noise of adults talking and children playing inside the house, it was quiet.
It was the perfect place for Luna. She thought that every time she visited Clint. God, Clint is so lucky; Luna thought as she sat on the steps of Clint's porch.
"Auntie Luna, look what I made," Lila walked out of the house holding a piece of paper, and Luna, with a smile on her face, turned to face the small girl.
"Let me see," Lila gave the woman the paper, and Luna looked at it before looking at Lila and saying, "And who is this supposed to be?"
"It's supposed to be you," Lila smiled.
"Really, I—" She tilted her head and looked back and forth at Lila and the paper. "That is me, isn't it?" Lila laughed at Luna. "But who is that over there?"
"That's Auntie Nat."
"Oh . . . ," Luna's smile fell, her lips moving into a thin line at the mention of Natasha.
Natasha was why she was outside. She needed to clear her mind from what had happened to the guest room, with what Luna had told the woman. She took a deep breath, smiled again, and said, "Well, go show Auntie Nat. I bet she'll be happy to see how well you drew her."
Lila nodded and ran into the house as Clint smiled at his daughter. "Hey," Luna said as Clint sat beside her. "You're lucky to live out here. It's quiet."
"Yeah, I know," he answered shortly, and Luna looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows.
"You okay?"
"Are you?"
"I . . . ," she trailed off, and that told Clint everything he needed. He looked down and said, "Yeah, that's what I thought . . . What's going on between you and Nat?"
