Curate, connect, and discover
If Natasha were a fangirl, she'd have called Clint's eyes Cerulean-blue orbs.
But she's not a fangirl. She's a spy. So what she sees is fear. And insomnia. And a need for coffee.
So in the coffee goes, black and strong, with a little bit of sugar, and maybe a hint of cinnamon. Into the cup that says, Surely Not Everybody was Kung-fu Fighting?
Well, everybody usually is. But not now.
The cup slides across the table, and Clint's eyes ask, Why?
Because. She can see him wanting to tear his eyes out. She can see him looking for Loki in himself.
Clint takes a nice, long sip, and smiles.
It doesn't reach his eyes anymore.