Budapest » [Clintasha]

Chapter Forty-Nine: Lucky

She broke my heart when she cried. Growing up, Kate was the pinnacle of confidence that I aspired to live up to: all of the 'I don't give a shit' attitude, all of the reckless stunts, and all of the outspoken wit. I wasn't used to seeing her look so broken, and the cracks in her self-assured acts were beginning to show. It was as tragic as looking on a shattered Ming Dynasty vase.

"Why?" I breathed, amazed she'd managed to keep a poker face and omit those details for so long. I couldn't imagine anyone would want to revisit a place to closely linked with death and loss so soon after the incident.

Kate shrugged, her lips pursed and looking up in an attempt to force the tears to recede. "Something about wanting to feel close to mom on her wedding day..." She sniffled, fingers curling tighter around the mug.

Seeing how distraught she looked, I tried to shatter the solitude by cracking a joke. "So do I come along and pretend to be your boyfriend or something?" I asked, a ghost of a titter in my tearful voice.

She nearly choked on her drink, lurching forwards with a drip leaking from her mouth and dribbling down her chin. She struggled to swallow, but eventually spluttered. "Please don't! Jeez, I was drinking, can you not?" She stubbornly replied, looking torn between bursting into laughter and concern.

Having nearly choked her or not, I felt pleased I'd lightened the mood slightly.

"It would be fun!" I announced and the small dog in my lap yapped. "See, the pup agrees!" Me and the pup were kindred spirits.

Kate shook her head with a small smile. "What are you gonna call that thing anyway?" She reached out her hand to the dog, which sniffed her hand, prospecting her smell before giving her a soppy sodden lap as a sign of friendship.

"I dunno..." I checked the green collar, the bronze disk engraved with its name and the contact details of its owner. "It says he's called arrow." I frowned. "That's a dumb name." I tore the collar off as an act of disdain.

"Why don't you call him Lucky?" Kate suggested. "You know, because he was so lucky to be rescued by you."

Erudite, she always had been.

I couldn't help but grin at that and combed my fingers through the dog's shaggy mane. "Lucky it is!"

"You're a sap, Barton," she teased, prodding me in the shin with her toe, a subtle smile on her lips. "Back to the original point; I'm not having anyone thinking you're my boyfriend. It's nothing personal, Clint," she informed me - though, how could it not be personal? "It's that you stormed my dad's office looking and smelling like trash, armed with a stick and string from the Palaeolithic Era. You're my plus one. Just my plus one."

"Fine," I conceded, still looking rather petulant; which I was.

"Thank you," she breathed, looking a little less bereaved. "And quit looking like a moping bitch, there's free cake and champagne at the reception."

I sighed, pressing my cheek against the squirming puppy that Kate had pretty much permitted me to keep. "I'll take you up on the cake. But that doesn't make weddings any less boring."

~

"This... Suit... Is... So... Itchy!" I hissed, trying my best not to scratch myself like a dog with fleas. I wanted to claw my skin off; the fabric was chaffing everywhere and was far too tight to my skin; not to mention having the top button done up was stuffy and smothering. It was maddening, and taking it off was the thought at the forefront of my mind.

"Stop squirming, you look like a mental patient!" Kate hissed back, leading me to our place on one of the pews. I tried my best not to trip on the violet train of her floor-length purple dress; but I was still breaking in the squeaky leather shoes.