Clint knew what she said was true. He wasn't overly fond of letting anyone in too close. Penny was different. She always had been. She knew more about him then most people with the exception of Ade. Course, that should scare the bloody fuck out of him but he didn't mind too much. It wasn't like anyone would believe anything she said about him and it wasn't like she'd admit to having a... friendship with him. They were suited for the shadows and that was fine. It was easier and it was quiet and he appreciated the fact that she didn't annoy the shit out of him or constantly pester him. She was capable of presenting her argument and then they'd discuss it like human beings.
He was envious of her in some ways. She had so many things to do but then again, Penny was true to herself and Clint... not so much. He lived a lie and it worked. Most of the time. "A new book?" he asked, brow raised. It amused him to no end that Penny authored romance novels. It made very little sense. He'd even read one and it wasn't bad but her talents could definitely be used elsewhere. But she enjoyed it and that's all that mattered. "Should I start divulging my stories now? I have some good ones that would make excellent page turners."
When she listed out his options he sighed. She was right, of course. Clint wasn't sure he wanted to go the good boy route. It wasn't exactly in his nature but he could persuade an ailing team to take him on and the notoriety would, at least, get him back in the game.
The idea of spending time with her was appealing but his father wanted him in a position simmilar to that and while Clint loved book and studies, he loved Quidditch and he loved being out of doors. "What conundrum," he said, sliding an arm along the back side of the booth. "However will I decide?"