Clint Barton - OTA
Oh boy. Well. It was sure his birthday. He was now officially on the wrong side of his thirties -- which probably wasn't as dramatic as it sounded even if he sort of wanted to act like it was.
But then, Clint Barton was a fairly dramatic guy when he put his mind and effort into it. He wasn't doing that tonight though. Tonight was for being chill, for kicking back and being chill, drinking some beer and having some snacks and watching the best movie of all time. Which, no matter which version, Natasha had picked right on. Because there was no wrong choice. Obviously. Not like there was a right choice when it came to licorice: twizzlers. Which Nat had pulled through on, because she was an absolute treasure.
Things were still kind of getting started, being set up and all that, but Clint had claimed a spot on a blanket just about right in the middle of everything and he was enjoying being lazy and gnawing on candy while watching people show up and pick spots, too.
This was nice, actually. Kinda cozy. A little less of a drinking binge, and certainly not a black tie affair. And everyone liked a movie. Hopefully.
He glanced up at the nearest person walking past and offered a bright smile.