because i care // hawksilver

06

"Wake up. It's just a your imaginations; "

He stared down at his feet, realising the fact that he just dreamt about dreaming. He named his character, created his own characters, named himself a superhero; acted rich. But the truth is, there was no Pietro, there was no rich Clint Barton. There wasn't any clichè story in his life. He only had himself.

The truth is, he still belives in miracles. Wishes that gets granted when you see a star that shines bright, running through the sky. Will he still believe in it? Will he stop imagining that there is an actual Pietro Maximoff in this world? Not the one he created in his own world which he is the savior in.

He lived in the same place his entire life that he is actually beginning to get sick of it; the other day he just realized that the way people get sick of being in the same place for so long; is the same way people get sick of being in the same body for too long. He found out that people needs to start finding beauty in people, but he can't do it if he can start finding beauty in himself.

He stared up at his wall which had a medium sized sticky note that actually said,"You're an a beautiful combination of stardust and ocean waves; you are an human. And it's perfectly alright if you were to mesed up."

But what if it's not okay? Will it ever be? These words are the words that has been running through Clint's thoughts all day and he couldn't at least try to get them out.

Clint has never left his house for weeks; maybe he should start going out. He stood up slowly, giving a light strech on his arms and started walking to his bathroom door.

His dry skin which used to be smooth and silky is now ruined; he brought his hands around the door knob and gives it a slight twist and opens it, walking up to the sink.

He realised he looked nothing like himself. The skin under his eyes sunk down, his lips was chappered and dry, he looked like a mess. His hair was in a mess. He didn't sleep for days.

He promised himself today that tomorrow is the day he will finally go out of his house and have his day outside, his mind didn't like it. But he is forced to, what's the point of staying inside if it's going to get yourself killed.

He maybe might find an Pietro, or maybe not. Even if he did, what's he going to say? He probably just stand there and stare. Even might even pinch himself to wake him up from his stupid world; maybe he isn't even awake right now.

Life isn't as always as it seems, he thought to himself. He washed his face with two or three splashes and quickly walked out of his bathroom; what another typical day thinking about his dream world which will never exist.