"Oh, that came shining through. Angriest kiss of my life," she assured him. Still just the right height for her to be able to tuck her face into the crook of his shoulder as he bent his to her hair. She remembered this, too, the ease in it, the way they were holding onto each other down to the placement of his arms, her hands: if she had closed her eyes and ignored the fact that they were in the sunlight, she would have thought she'd slipped sideways into some other time entirely. Woken up in the past, maybe, and she'd find it was only a few weeks before she'd lose him and it would set off the chain of events that would turn her into the person who could take the choice Clint offered when he brought her before SHIELD.
She breathed in, a shaking, shuddering breath, and mouthed along his shoulder for a moment, her hands tightening on him. More people had kissed her since she'd arrived here than had in the last several years of her life, which was - another sobering thought, a bit, on the back of wondering if there should be guilt and enough to pull her up even just a little, but really, how could she have predicted this as an additive into an already new situation?
At the moment, though, there was nothing to do but let it lie. It would be a dead woman's right to be selfish about it, for the both of them: this was theirs, this kiss in the sunlight and his face in her hair, and whatever came next, this was a moment they both deserved to breathe in, exactly as it was. Everything else could be what happened after: this would be this.
"Try not to be too pissed off at me," she murmured. "The smile's newer than the scowl. I'd like to have a little more experience with it."