The Avenger facility had become their playground. The Maximoff twins ran everywhere, explored everything.
One afternoon, while waiting for her brother, Wanda wandered around the facility. She walked past a door, and her feet – lead by her curiosity – lead to The Vision.
He seemed to be meditating. He floated centimeters from the ground, with his legs crossed. He resembled Buda, she thought.
It was maybe her stare, or her thoughts, that drew the Vision’s attention to her. Wanda stood by the door, a foot in and the other out of the room.
“Hello…” – she heard the Vision’s voice. His eyes remained closed.
Wanda was never shy – “You felt my presence” – She spoke, finally walking in. It wasn’t a question.
When she reached the small sofa on the room, the Vision opened his eyes, and placed himself sat on the floor, over a rug – “I heard your steps” – he reasoned.
Wanda couldn’t help a grin. The Vision was… unique. His mind, his being, he, as a whole, seemed so peaceful.
“What is in your mind when you meditate?” – Wanda asked, curiosity and interest in her voice.
“Meditation is an exercise for the spirit” – was the Vision’s simple reply.
That was when Wanda kneeled in front of him. Curiosity making her eyes bright – “Do you have one?”
The Vision blinked – “As do you”
Was he offended?! Wanda held a grin - “Can I read it? Can I read you?”
“You have done it once”
“You’ve changed” – she spoke with a tone that suggested her statement was obvious –“Let me do it again…” – she leaned closer – “Or are you afraid of what I might find?”
Her voice was but a husky whisper.
“I am certain you would not be startled by my thoughts” – the Vision replied, motionless.
Wanda let out a provoking laugh – “Then show me” - she ended the distance between their lips.
Her intention had been to peck the Vision’s lips, to have a taste of his synthetic skin, to tease him, to try him, and to try herself. She didn’t expect his mind – no. His soul – to be that troubled.
It felt impossible for her to separate their lips, especially when the Vision moved his own, kissing back.
Wanda intensified the kiss, cupping the Vision’s face. Her breathing was heavy of the overwhelming information coming from him through that kiss. Yet, she didn’t let go, or stopped. Neither of them did.
The Vision had placed a hand around Wanda’s wrist, a mention to stop her, but she had protested – “Don’t” - and his hand slipped slowly up her arm, to her bare shoulder.
The more she knew, the more she wanted to know. And the Vision just let her.
The thing is that just as the Vision allowed Wanda to see, to read him, she let him do the same.
At one point, his thoughts and feelings became too much. Wanda gasped, and that separated their lips. An electric sensation lingered on her mouth.
Wanda ran her hands through her hair, while adjusting her breathing and her eyes – that flashed red.
She didn’t give it another thought before placing her arms around the Vision’s neck, placing kisses on his neck, up his jawline, to his cheek, and the side of his head, caressing the back of it – “You belong, you do” – she nearly whispered on his ear – “You do…”
But the Vision didn’t reply, nor held her back. He knew, because he had seen what she had seen and felt what she had felt, that Wanda had been in the same position he was right now: With a hypnotic feeling of not belonging anywhere, of being no one.
He knew every being belonged somewhere, and he also knew that it could take a life time – or more – to find where it was that one belonged. The thought of the possibility of not having enough time to find such place was what haunted his being.
The Vision was not afraid of dying. He was afraid of vanishing.