Love was overrated, you knew that now. Actually, you had always known, but you thought this would be different. That HE would be different, that maybe he loved you for yourself instead of for information. Instead, you were just a pawn.
When he said 'I love you' it had been a lie. Everything he said to you was a lie. Even the name Clint Barton was probably a lie. It didn't matter anymore, though. No matter how much you wished the man meant what he said or that you might have meant something to him, it didn't matter now. Clint was no longer part of your life.
Your father, the biggest drug lord in North America, was all he ever cared about. Of course, it wasn't like you let him know on the first few dates he took you on. You slept with him before the mere mention of meeting your family came about. You believed it had been at least a year with him that you thought it might be alright for them to meet. No mention of your father's occupation was said, even if you did love the man that shared your bed.
Clint had already known, though, you were certain of that now. But you had to admit, your now ex boyfriend was a wonderful actor. He played you well, as any violinist played a string. You doubted that even Sherlock Holmes would have figured it out, but he also knew what to look for.
The picture of you and the light brown haired fellow hugging each other fell from your hand and into the nearby flames. You wiped away at stray tears, wiping the memories along with them.