Chapter 8

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They ended up on the bed (Natasha wasn't entirely sure how) and Clint was holding her as she cried. It was silent at first, but then it turned to agonized sobs over everything that had happened to her. She was crying over everything, not just the baby. And through it all, Clint simply held her close and rubbed her back gently, burying his face in her neck to keep himself from crying at the love of his life falling apart.

When she finally stopped (which was more due to exhaustion and a lack of tears left than anything else), Natasha picked up her head from his chest and looked at him. She studied his expression, the way his hair stood up in odd places from laying down for so long. He looked at her with love, and there was more to it than that but Natasha could find the right words to place it. Clint looked relieved - relieved for Tasha to have gotten it all out of her system and not kept it all bottled up like she had been - and not with a trace of pity. That, Natasha realized, was why she loved him. Everyone else would be pitiful of her or even be embarrassed to see her cry. But Clint was happy for her, happy that she didn't keep her emotions bottled up anymore.

As Natasha was studying Clint's face, Clint was studying hers. He tried to memorize how she looked, her red eyes, flushed cheeks, desheveled hair, and the tears that hadn't dried yet around her eyes and on her cheeks. She's beautiful, he realized with a jolt. And even though they were now engaged, he still couldn't believe that she was his.

He reached up after a moment and wiped off the rest of her tears gently with his thumbs, holding her face in his hands. "You're so bautiful, Tasha," he whispered, and his words were so powerful that Natasha felt it all the way to her core. The words made her fill with warmth, and his hands on her skin were warm while the rest of her was cool. She sunk down into his arms, and he met her halfway with a kiss that said everything they could not put into words. Natasha tangled her fingers in his hair while he moved his hands down to her hips.

She broke away breathless, pressing her forehead to his. Their breaths mingled as they recovered from the powerful kiss before she spoke. "I love you, Clint," Natasha said quietly, and she could hear and feel his breath hitch. "I know I don't say it nearly enough, and I probably never will, but I love you." She kissed him gently, smiling lightly, before pulling away to see Clint smile back.

"I love you too, Tasha. Always have, always will," he whispered back, not even the tiniest sliver of doubt in his voice. She kissed him again once, but before it could turn into anything more that they could regret Natasha slipped away into the bathroom to wash her face.

When she returned, she found Clint ready for bed under the covers. She shimmied out of her jeans and exchanged her t-shirt for one of his before crawling under the covers with Clint.

She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head, drawing faint circles on her shoulder.

Natasha was asleep within minutes.

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