delicate

my reputation's never been worse

"Are you certain? Because we could easily find somewhere nicer, it's still early in the evening."

"What's the point of sitting down somewhere just to eat? We only have one day, Viz, I'm not wasting that kind of time."

Vision shrugged, obviously happy to let her decide. He didn't eat anyway, so it truly was up to her. Even still, he always made sure she realized he would take her anywhere she wanted to go - while they didn't necessarily discuss it, he knew that she probably didn't get a chance to be out like this very often, considering who she traveled with. Captain Rogers' team stayed as hidden as possible, visiting corner stores just like this one for their groceries.

Perhaps it was guilt left over from the accords, or just an instinct that came from loving Wanda as much as he did, but Vision felt she deserved better when given these rare weekends of escape.

"The moment this is all over, and we have our proper kitchen back, you can teach me more of your recipes," Vision told Wanda hopefully, "and you'll never have to eat an instant dinner again."

Wanda looked up from the case of deli sandwiches she was choosing from, her eyes slightly frosted over as she considered what he had just said.

"As nice as I know it will be to finally go home," she replied shakily, "I don't think it's the kitchen I miss, or eating real food, or sleeping in my own bed." Wanda smiled sadly to herself and turned back to the shelf of sandwiches. "All I really want is my family to be together again, for good. I would live in hotels for the rest of my life if it was with you."

She chose a paper-wrapped sandwich from the refrigerated display and took it silently to the small counter, just a few steps away. Vision followed her quietly, knowing that this must have been sitting on her mind for a while. Wanda Maximoff was, without a doubt, the strongest person that Vision knew - with how much she had endured, it took a lot for her gaze to go glassy or for her voice to crack. Nothing worried him more than when Wanda let her hurt show, and in moments like these, there was not a single problem he was more determined to fix than whatever ailed her.

Wanda had already handed a bill to the cashier (this was a debate they'd resolved long ago - Vision had not tried to convince her to let him pay in almost a year, per her request) and was waiting on change. He stood behind her patiently, his left hand in his coat pocket, and his right hand hanging at his side. They knew each other well enough that Wanda read his signal immediately - he wanted to listen to her more, but since he knew she preferred having these kinds of conversations in private, they could wait until they were alone. She took his free hand in hers, squeezing it gently, and Vision knew she understood.

"Vielen dank," Wanda thanked as the cashier handed her several coins back, and she took her sandwich off the counter. The two walked out of the small shop and started down the narrow road, hands still clasped together.

Rather than asphalt, the street was made of cobblestone, obviously preserved and refurbished over possibly centuries of use. The further they walked, the older the buildings around them seemed to get, and while the road was still well-lit, it was obvious that they were straying from the main area of the town.

Wanda unwrapped her sandwich as they walked, holding it in one hand and keeping her other locked around the Vision's as they strolled. The area had come alive with golden lights and the sounds of happy chatter - this was Germany after all, and there was definitely more than one pub in the city. The bars were most likely much fuller now than theirs had been earlier. Music leaked through doors that had been propped open, and laughter carried through the air from busy hubs of night life.

Not long after they began walking, a not-so-distant sound of church bells chiming out the hour carried up a side street to the main road. Vision slowed as they approached the alleyway through which the ringing came, knowing from experience that Wanda would want to find the source. She was fascinated with churches - and while he had never pressed her for details regarding her past, Vision knew that she had been raised near a church before being orphaned. Even after her parents' death, Wanda had been sent to orphanages run by nuns and poor houses sponsored by priests. She may not worship now, but her upbringing had been filled with people of faith, and church bells often played as a soundtrack to any happy memories she had of being a child.