He smiled fondly at her request. How could he say no with that? He sighed softly with that smile still there, he approached and extended his arm, offering her hand at her, “c’mon then”, and then, “…let’s dance.”
Somehow, Clint had this smile…this big smile as if it was the very first time they were going to slow dance close to each other, or as if everything about Jess was new to him.
He ached to feel her perfume, to feel her close to him again.
He had been a fool to let her go, to hurt her the way he did.
Not really having expected him to say yes – especially if he remembered anything about her skills on the dance floor – her expression falters. Though not for long. As soon as his hand’s extended, she’s gripping it tight with her lips curled in a grin that would have covered her face if they could stretch so far.
“Try not to step on my toes,” she teases, a wink accompanying it.
There were new callouses on his fingers, but they were the same warm hands that held her close whenever she was sad or hurt or even happy. He was still the same Clint even with all his faults.
It was bittersweet.
But she didn’t want to back off now. She liked this. She liked batting her lashes at him and feeling embarrassed when he caught her looking, she liked the way his lips curled when she said something stupid, she liked the way his hair was always so scruffy, despite how many times he may have run a comb through it.
She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she watched him. She was no longer a cheshire cat, but there was a affection behind it.
