you came with lipstick and some bruises and another's arms

"You know nothing, Clint Barton. She is mine." And I am hers, you want to say, but you don't know if that's true anymore. "She will always be mine, long after I am dust. She was created to be mine. We belong together." You could only ever belong to Natalia, you think, even if you preferred otherwise. She is the only one who could ever understand you—more than understand you, accept you and still love you as only certain dark things are to be loved. People fear you like they fear monsters lurking in the dark, but they are wrong: you are not the monster. You are the dark.