WORK OF ART ▹ W. Maximoff ¹ ✓

━ iv. broken spoons and bratty children

Wanda stirred the paprikash, a bit more forcefully than normal. As she stirred, Sam Wilson, another new Avenger, came in at a small jog, obviously done with training.

Small beads of sweat collected at his brow and his faint mustache, the man dabbing it away with his grey shirt.

"Hey, did you not train today?" He asked the girl, whose clenched jaw notified Wanda's anger. "Earlier." She answered half-heartedly without looking up from her pot.

Sam furrowed his brows, cautiously approaching the fridge and opening the door.

"Hey, do you know where Steve and the others went?"

"Do I look like I know where they went?!" Wanda snapped, Sam instantly backing out from the kitchen.

"My bad, my bad!" He shot back, his hands raised to the sides of his head, his voice slightly high-pitched. "I just wanted some water..."

"Yeah? And I just wanna not be considered a murderer!" Wanda slammed the wooden spoon onto the ground. "I don't wanna be constantly reminded of Pietro! But do I get that? No! Because everyone fucking hates us! I just-" Wanda seemed to calm down a bit as she looked down.

"I get these powers from HYDRA of all groups. Parents die. Pietro, he dies. Everyone dies, and it's always my fault." She grumbled as her red energy surrounded the spoon and placed it in the sink. "But please, ask me about Steve again."

Sam could only watch as Wanda snatched a new spoon from the drawer and began to angrily stir the paprikash, the poor spoon nearly broken from the energy enveloping her hand.

"I'm sorry..." Sam began cautiously. "But, don't take it out on the spoon. Put the spoon down."

Albeit nervous, he gently clasped the spoon, taking it from the girl. He had to ignore the heat that came from the energy before sitting at the kitchen island.

"I know, it, uh, this is really terrible. Losing your brother... er, any family... is hard. I remember when I lost my parents. My daddy, Paul, he'd- he'd take me to a place called Grand Isle." Sam's voice lowered in thought, Wanda turning off the flames from the oven.

"He'd take me to a certain part of it, where the water was real calm, and he- he'd always tell me "you're pullin' the reel back too damn hard, Sam! Relax!" He'd take my sister, Sarah, sometimes, but she really wasn't into fishin' until she was older. It was just me, him, and the sea. God, I miss the smell of crab." Sam smacked his teeth, nearly drooling at the thought of crab legs. "Y'know how you love that vat of stew-"

"Paprikash." Wanda corrected, staring at the marble of the island.

"Paprikash." Sam gave a slight smile, correcting himself. "Your love for paprikash is like our love for seafood."

"Ah, I see..." Wanda nodded, muttering under her breath. "When Pietro and I were young, our parents would watch tv sitcoms with us. Things like I Love Lucy, Dick Van Dyke Show, Full House, shows like that, all while eating paprikash." She gestured to the large, silver pot.

"What about The Andy Griffith Show?"

"I loved The Andy Griffith Show!" Wanda gave a feeble smile before sighing. "I wish I could experience that again."