✧・゚:* ☆ MEMORIES

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Clint Barton
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"Luna! Stop!" Clint cried lunging his body towards mine, his eyes pooling in fear at the sight of my hands drenched in crimson

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"Luna! Stop!" Clint cried lunging his body towards mine, his eyes pooling in fear at the sight of my hands drenched in crimson. Far too enthralled with my infatuation with the thrill of nimbly striping life from another, my ears didn't register his desperate pleas. Instead, my now numbed fists dripping red, continued to drive into the distorted face of my enemy; the relief following each punch sending me into a state of oblivion while a faint taste of metallic tickled my tongue. "He's dead! He's dead! Stop!" He reminded forcefully removing my body from atop the corpse, my eyes flickering at the sudden presence of force; his hands placed securely on both of my shoulders glancing attentively into my eyes laced with untamed rage, my features hidden behind a wine red.

"C-Clint?" I stammered as my surroundings flooded my peripheral vision all at once, my eyes immediately drowning in guilt as Clint's worrisome expression sent me into a state of panic; what did I do? Briefly averting my gaze to my hands, realization hit me head on like a brick wall as my eyes trailed the the victim I violently lashed out on, again; a pool of crimson elegantly forming around a severely deformed figure filling my retina. My still hyper sensitive senses feeling the warmth Clint's grip tighten around my forearm.

"Hey, look at me." Clint's soft tone snapped me out of the nightmare I created, gently tilting my chin upwards with his available hand; my burning skin feeling his calloused, cautious hand caressing my face caked in a stranger's blood.

"I'm a monster." I admitted trying to disregard the scorching sensation working it's way up my throat, accepting the dark reality I had no control over.

"No, you're Luna. And the Luna I know isn't a monster." Clint reminded ignoring my previously vocalized hatred for physical touch, enveloping me in his consoling, secure grasp; for a split second, my body accepted the comforting act, which momentarily threw my own mind into a state confusion. Nevertheless, I accepted, or rather savored, his consoling notion. "Let's get you cleaned up." He added resting his chin atop my shoulder, continuing to stroke the small of my trembling back.

"Thank you."

                               
                                 ✧・. : *✧・゚:* ☆

Natasha Romanoff
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                         Natasha Romanoff                          ______________

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