||"She scares the hell out of me and calms my soul at the same time. Maybe that's what love it—a total contradiction that somehow balances out."||
When Wanda snuck into Tony's lab later that day, she found him on the floor, papers scattered all around him, all of which were full of equations and paragraphs she couldn't read or understand.
But the sight of him with a pen in his mouth and a pencil behind his ear, hunched forward studying like a student, made her unbelievably happy.
It reminded her of the weeks that followed after Ultron, after she'd lost Pietro and felt so unlike herself. Because after spending day after day in her new room, crying and feeling numb, she'd sneak out at night after everyone went to bed, padding upstairs to Tony's lab just to watch him work.
There was something very relaxing about watching him get lost in a new project, something calming about listening to him talk to Jarvis.
It's what she spent most of her time doing after losing Pietro—getting lost in someone's else's world so that she didn't get lost in hers.
"Come over here," Tony said, finding her hidden in the shadowy part of his lab, and she eagerly rushed over, sitting down beside him. "It's nothing special," he said, picking up one of the papers from the floor. "But I don't want to leave anything behind incase Markus decides to snoop around."
Oh. Yes. That's right. They were leaving.
Wanda had forgotten all about that, and for some reason, it saddened her.
The compound felt like home just as much as the tower did.
"Are you packing everything?" she asked, looking around the lab, wondering how on earth he'd get all of his stuff out of the room before Wednesday.
Tony huffed a lazy laugh, scanning the room himself. "I've got all of this back at the tower and in some other places, so it won't matter if he blows it up."
It was brief, but Wanda caught a doleful stoop in his voice in there somewhere.
"I don't think leaving is going to stop him," she admitted, twisting the ring Nik gave her around her pinky. "I don't think they'll find him in time."
Rhodey had hope, but Wanda was beginning to think the world was running out of it, that there wasn't any left to give out.
"Wherever Markus is, he thinks he has all the time in the world. There's a good chance he's finished those bombs, a good chance he's ready to attack, but he just isn't. Maybe he isn't ready, maybe he won't be ready for a very long time, which is good for us, but that doesn't take us out of the game, it just puts us right in the middle of it."
Wanda kept her eyes on her hands, on the papers laying around, on the cool, steel floor, hoping to push away the tragic thoughts that were begging to slip into her mind. Thoughts that included death and blood and her nightmare and her agonizing heartbreak she'd felt the moment Pietro died; thoughts that brought on terror and fear and all the things she knew she wasn't ready to control.
Thoughts of pure chaos.
If this truly were a game, then Markus was winning. Not by much, but far enough ahead to start fading into the distance.
"Not to add to the already cheery mood, but, how are you? What are those red eyes seeing that we can't?"
Her eyes were glowing, she realized, and it took a second or two to blink them back to normal. She was so lost in thought that she'd failed to feel her magic rising.
"I'll feel better once everyone is safe," she said, turning her head to look at the screens that showed the compound through the various cameras. It was mid-day, and the sky was still sad, but not sad enough to cry. "But, to answer your question—" she paused, feeling her heart stammer, as if it were struggling to find it's rhythm. She rubbed her chest, smiling a bit so not to worry Tony, then continued. "I'm okay. Yes, I'm okay."
Tony didn't seem to notice her slight pause, and instead, gave her a wrinkled smile. "I wish that answer wasn't so broad," he said, giving his attention back to the papers. "You think if I ask nicely, Cas will agree to make that rice again? That boy can sure cook."
Wanda loosed a breath, content with the change in conversation.
"Paired with Sam's barbecue pork-chops? And Emma's grilled chicken Cesar salad?"
Tony's pen dropped from his hand, and he leaned his head back and brought his hands up in front of himself in a prayer.
"Yes. Yes a million times."
With that, he jumped up, stretching out his hand for Wanda to grab. "Let's go beg them to cook for us. Dinner's in two hours so we might as well get started now. This stuff can wait. Yes. It can wait. Jarvis," Tony pulled Wanda up, his grip stronger than she was expecting, "clear out the hard-drives from every computer and send them to my account and to Peppers. If she asks about it just tell her I said thank you."
The computers came to life as Wanda and Tony made their way out of the lab, and she followed him toward the living room, where a few of the others were lounging.
Tony began to command Cas around (not asking like he said he would) then politely begged Emma to start her salad and Sam pushed himself before Tony had the chance to ask.
"Pork chops?" Sam asked, heading into the kitchen.
"Wanda's wish," Tony answered, and Sam looked over his shoulder at her, smiling.
"I can't say no to Little Red," he said, and she thanked him quickly, spotting Nik out on the balcony, where he was starting to spend a lot of his time. Usually Cas would join him, but Cas was out in the training room with Pietro and Katarina.
Her steps were quiet as she approached him, and without making a sound, she sat down beside him, silent as air.
"Do you think the trees talk about us?" he asked, staring off into the distance. "I think they do."
Wanda rested her head on her knees as she observed the profile of his face. His curls today were extra curly, brushed through by the soft wind that was blowing, but they looked loose, as though the curls themselves had expanded in his sleep, growing thicker during the night. The bottom half of his face was also covered in the shadow of his beard, and she couldn't remember a time when she'd seen him with so much hair on his face.
He was usually always so fresh and clean.
Not anymore. Curious Nik was gone, replaced by an older, quieter Nik.
It made her eyes water.
He must have sensed the change in attitude, because he quickly turned to look at her, his kind eyes taking her in. "It has nothing to do with you," he said, knowing exactly why she was crying. "I'm still me."
Wanda moved over, wrapping her arms around him, breathing him in, trying to force away the tears.
"I knew this would happen to you. I knew this life would drag you down. You've only been here a month and I can already see the change."
Nik rubbed her arm, hugging her back, and she could feel his breath on the top of her head as he said, "I think I'm just starting to see things a little clearer now. I'm not living through my dreams like I was back home. But," he touched the ring on her finger, smiling to himself, "it doesn't meant I can't hear the trees singing or smell the earth or find you absolutely enchanting."
Wanda held his hand, her tears coming to a stop.
"I'm sure I'm not the only one you find enchanting," she said, lifting her head up to grin at him. "Perhaps someone with dark hair and tan skin? I'm just thinking out-loud here."
Nik's freckled cheeks flushed, and she saw the same look on his face that she saw on Pietro when she'd mentioned Katarina early that morning. A look that she'd only seen once or twice on Nik's face—once for Marijka and once for herself.
"I wouldn't call him enchanting," he said, gazing back out at the world. "I'd call him...inspiring."
That wasn't the word she thought he was going to use, but that look was still on his face, and so she left it at that, knowing when he was ready, he'd tell her all about it.
___
His door was open when she walked by, and though she could smell the fresh shampoo and feel the warmth of the steam—which made it obvious he'd just showered—she stopped anyway.
Her embers tingled from inside, and she forced them away as she knocked gently on his door, peering inside to find him standing near his dresser, a towel wrapped tightly around his hips.
Wow.
Every part of him looked hard and solid, and she couldn't help but stare at the indent of his abdomen, how each curve and stoop accentuated the next.
Granted, she'd seen him shirtless before, but that was last year, and it was so clear that he'd gotten bigger since the last time she saw him without a shirt.
His body had grown more defined, and she found it hard not to think about what it'd feel like to touch him all over. To feel how much he'd grown, to hold him completely.
"Kat?"
She blinked, aware that she'd been staring far too long, and his blue eyes held her gaze as she struggled to compile a simple sentence.
"Yes. Sorry. I wasn't...yes. Alright," she turned, taking a breath and hoping he'd forget all her ever knocking. But she heard him laugh a bit, which made her turn back around, though this time he was sitting down on his bed, rubbing lotion over himself.
It was vanilla scented, which wafted through the room, over to her, making her insides melt.
"I was actually going to go out and find you," he said, rubbing some more lotion over his face.
She pulled her eyes away, forcing them on anything but him. "You were?"
Pietro stood, opening a drawer to his dresser, pulling something out that she couldn't see. "Yeah," he said. "I was hoping to get you alone, you know, without Crystal."
She smiled, bowing her head.
"She's not so bad," she told him, turning her head to look at him. He was now dressed in sweatpants, which hung just as tightly around his hips as the towel did, and she was hoping he'd put a shirt on, because at least she'd be able to talk to him without gawking at his very toned body.
"I guess you're right," he said, hanging the towel over the chair near his desk. "I never really know what I'm gonna get with her," he added, taking three steps, enough to reach her by the door. "She's a wild card."
He smelled so delicious, and now that he was right in front of her, she had to use all of her self-control not to reach up and touch his damp hair.
"I wouldn't necessarily call her a wild card," she blurted out. "People have a tendency to put on versions of themselves, appeasing to a certain person or crowd, and with Crystal, I think she's got one, if not two. When in reality, a wild card would have multiple, because you just wouldn't know what to expect with them. They're a lot more impulsive than most, and I think she's got everything under control, and just chooses when and when not to showcase it."
If there was one thing she was terrible at, it was flirting.
Her college party days consisted of boring every cute guy that came up to her with her knowledge of psychology. That's why her college party days didn't last very long.
"I don't know why I said that," she laughed nervously, taking a step back, only to be met with the wall. For obvious reasons, she couldn't find the nerve to look up at him, because the last time she did, the last time she was this close to him, they had kissed.
So she was left looking down at her hands, which were now fiddling with one another, which were also so close to his, which she noticed were now reaching up to touch her. His calloused hands grabbed her soft ones, pulling them apart so that he now held one in each hand. He was still warm from his shower, and the scent of his vanilla lotion trapped them together, sliding up and up until it reached her nose.
Katarina couldn't help but look up at him. She wanted to see him.
Ever since she'd met him the year before, she had known he was going to be a someone who'd leave her wanting more, which is why she had attempted so many times to avoid him. But being his personal nurse meant seeing him everyday, seeing him in that room, looking at him through the glass wall wondering why he was so sad and angry. Bruce had never told her the entire situation with the twins, but it didn't stop her from wishing Pietro happiness.
But it wasn't until she began studying him that she started falling in love.
Then her father happened, and her mutation took form, and her mother came back. All of it had pushed Pietro to the back of her mind, where he stayed for the next seven months. But he was always there, always in her dreams.
When the twins had returned, when she'd sen him that day at the school, every feeling and every dream suddenly crawled out of the shadows, reminding her that yes, Pietro was still handsome, if not more, and he was still looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
"You never left my mind," he whispered, so close to her face that she felt the coolness of his breath. "I was gone for a very long time, but you never left my thoughts. I want you to know that."
Her breath caught in her throat. She was speechless.
"I brought you with me," he pulled her hand up to his heart. "Everyday, you were here."
Her embers—her everything—glowed in merriment.
And as he leaned down to kiss her, she could have sworn to see her light—her glow—turn ruby.
The color of love.
___
Steve felt her arms wrap around from behind him, her cold rings sending shivers through him as she glided her hands down his neck, down his chest.
"Why are you in here all alone?" she asked him, her voice a soft whisper in his ear. Steve's skin went hot at the question, and he placed his hands on hers, following her as she reached farther down, stopping where his shirt met his jeans.
"I'm looking over the video footage of Markus' escape," he answered, and he looked back at the screen, which was paused on the car that drove Markus away. "There's no way of telling where he went. No one has any idea where he's staying or how to connect where he's already been. He's a ghost."
Wanda pulled out a seat beside, her hands still touching him. "He's out there somewhere."
"We just have to wait for him to make a mistake."
Wanda rested her head on his arm, and they both watched the screen as it played the footage over and over again.
Then, Steve turned the screen off, wrapping his arm around her to bring her closer. "We gotta start packing soon," he said into her hair. "We don't have much, anyway. It shouldn't take long."
Wanda pulled herself up onto his lap, and he cradled her gently, her head resting in between his shoulder and neck.
"I don't want to leave," she finally said. "I like it here."
"I know you do," he said. "But, seeing Rhodey's face when he was telling us everything...I don't know. It's better to be safe than sorry, and when it comes to the team, when it comes to you, I'd rather be safe."
He felt her smile against his neck.
"Maybe we could spend a few days at the lake house," he said, and she lifted her head, smiling a bit. "If that's okay with you."
Her green eyes pulsed.
"The house with the stars," she said, leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth. "The house made of glass."
The glass or the ceiling of stars wasn't what he remembered most about that day. But he nodded his head anyway, and she kissed him, deeply, lovingly, gently.
"I'll go anywhere with you," she told him when she pulled away. "Nothing will ever change that."
She sounded like she meant it, like it was the only possibility left in this world.
I'll go anywhere with you
She didn't know it, but he'd do the same for her too.
She was his possibility, his future, his now.
*********************************
A/N: Pietro and Kat!!!! Wanda and Steve!!!!! So much love!!!!!
I wonder if any of that will last:)
Okay, so the Spider-Man Homecoming trailer drops tonight and I'm so excited! He was such a fun addition to Civil War and I can't wait to see this movie, I honestly might cry!
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! I'll update again this weekend:D
Talk later xx