Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 93

I slow down as I pass the jet, noticing faint sounds coming from its inside but not bothering to check who the voices belong to as I feel too sluggish, craving the warmth of the cabin and maybe a cup of tea. I clomp up the porch and pause for a moment in front of the door, gathering myself, steeling myself. I can do this. I accept it.

My palm grazes against the gruff wooden door as my other hand presses the door handle down, and I push the door open, an instant warmth caressing my face and I shiver again, my teeth clattering softly together. I step in, looking around. The cabin is seemingly empty. I close the door behind me, and my body instantly feels like I've stepped into a warm bath. But it isn't the warmth of the cabin, it's-

Wanda? I tentatively think inside my own head, recognizing the familiar feeling of her mind around me.

Where were you? She sounds slightly impatient. An anxious wave hits me, but I think it might belong to her.

I take off my shoes. I had to-

I feel you. She interrupts me, annoyed, while her thoughts are surprisingly gentle where I thought they would cut like a knife. I recognize then it is because she can feel me just as I can feel her, obviously, and must be understanding my need for some space.

I hum softly as I walk to the kitchen, planning on making myself some tea. But the mere thought of it seems to drain me of energy, so I move towards the couch instead, thinking I'll just slumber there for a moment before trying again. As I walk, the door to the bedroom opens and Wanda tiptoes out, wearing sweatpants and a blue sweater, her hair falling down her back in loose waves. She looks so cosy, and I want to just- No, Liv. No could-haves. She meets my eyes, tucking some of her hair behind her ear as she quietly closes the door behind her. I plaster on a tired smile, which doesn't have its intended effect, as Wanda instantly frowns, narrowing her eyes at me as she walks closer, her round eyes scanning my face.

"Are you okay?" She asks in a velvety tone, sending another wave of shivers down my back.

"Just tired." I smile a taut smile and she lifts a hand, placing it on my forehead. I try to ignore her proximity, and how my body seems to want to remove the small bit of space between me and her.

"Okay, just tired." She smiles softly. "I think you're sick."

She drops her hand from me and meets my eyes again, worry swirling around in hers. I feel conflicted, on one hand feeling slightly accomplished that she would worry, but on the other hand, I wish she'd just leave me alone like I asked her to.

"I'm sick?" I repeat. "That's rude, Wanda."
"Wha-" Wanda looks confused before she catches on and her face contorts into a smirk and she chuckles. "Oh. You're funny. I'll remember that."

"Not my best, but I'll take it." I brush past her, again ignoring the jolt in my stomach as I pass her.

I walk around to the couch, setting myself down on it, taking the end I always use. I place my elbows on my knees and let my head rest in my hands for a moment, trying to shake the feeling of fever beginning to burn up in me. I close my eyes, hoping Wanda would realize my need for space again, and go back to her room.

Naturally, she doesn't.

I feel the cushions of the couch shift slightly under the weight of her body as she lowers herself down next to me. I feel a light, soft weight over my shoulders and I raise my head, surprised. Wanda innocently wraps the old blanket I have slept under many a time around me, her expression relaxed, a small smile on her delicate lips.

"Stop being so hard on yourself." She tells in a worried tone.
"What do you mean?" I frown, not following.

"I can hear you. You're very loud, you know." Wanda gently knocks on my forehead to emphasize, her eyebrows shooting up. I feel nostalgic.