when one of your moving boxes flies into the back of your car, accompanied by a wispy red glow, you whip around, eyes wide in warning. "wanda."
she chuckles, quickly tucking her hand into her jacket. "what?"
"it's like you want this whole neighborhood to know you're a witch," you hiss, slamming the trunk shut.
her grin is cheeky and dismissive. "i think it could make all their lives a little more exciting," she says lightly.
you roll your eyes, digging your key out of your pocket and spinning on your heels. as you march up the narrow staircase to your apartment, you mutter, "or throw the world into chaos."
wanda follows close behind you. "you would rather us lift all these heavy boxes?" she asks, pushing the door open with a flick of her hand the second you have it unlocked.
annoyed, you suck in a breath for a full two seconds, waiting to hear your lock click shut before turning around. "i don't want..." the rest of your breath leaves you. "i don't want anything bad to happen to you when i'm not here anymore."
wanda tilts her head at your admission, an adorable mix of confusion and defiance in her face. "do you think i would let anyone push me around like that?"
you swallow. wanda would never. she intimidated the hell out of you well before you ever discovered that she was a witch: her easy, neighborly greetings concealing layers of mystery.
"i don't want you to have to deal with it in the first place," you muster.
after a couple of thoughtful blinks, she nods. "i'll be fine."
deciding to leave it like that, you lift a cumbersome cardboard box from the ground with a frown. you finally meet her eyes again.
"though," she says with a small smile, "i will miss you."