Goodbye
The morning sun’s rays, just like every other day, woke Wanda from her sleep.
She sat up in bed and stretched, a faint blush on her cheeks. The braid she had made before falling asleep had come slightly undone. Smiling, she threw off the covers and headed toward the bathroom, selecting her clothes from the closet along the way.
After undoing her braid, her auburn hair cascaded in soft, delicate waves. She applied a light touch of makeup—just a bit of blush, mascara, and lip gloss—then slipped into a cozy tracksuit in a style reminiscent of the early 2000s. Once ready, she stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the living room, where everyone was already awake and alert.
Which meant that everything could go back to normal. That Thor’s mysterious brother would leave and never return.
Though charming in his own way, nobody really liked him when sober. In fact, most of them wanted to kill him for what he had done in the past.
Wanda couldn’t form an opinion on the matter. She didn’t know him the way they did. She didn’t know what he had done or what he used to be like. She only saw him as he was now—cold, serious, eloquent, charming, handsome, intelligent, sarcastic… yet, above all, someone deeply scarred by life.
Steve and Bucky were curled up on the couch together, as they almost always were. Natasha and Pepper were preparing breakfast for Tony and Sam, who sat at the kitchen island. Meanwhile, in the corner of the living room, Thor was locked in a heated argument with his brother in a language Wanda didn’t understand.
“Coffee’s hot. Want some?” Natasha asked when she spotted Wanda standing in the kitchen doorway.
“No, thanks,” the redhead replied, leaning against the island. After a moment, she frowned. “What language are they arguing in?”
“Probably some Scandinavian dialect,” Natasha guessed.
“I’d bet on something dead,” Tony chimed in.
“Dead like my will to live,” Sam muttered under his breath, his head resting against the counter.
The entire time, Wanda’s gaze remained on Loki.
Part of her wanted him to stay. She wanted to understand him, to uncover the mystery that he was.
But another part wished he would just leave and never return. Before she could want him to stay more. Before she could start thinking about him all the time…
Suddenly, Loki fell silent. He lifted his head high and, with a detached stride, as if his brother’s words no longer interested him, turned and left for the guest room. Everyone watched him go.
“How am I supposed to talk to him when he acts like a child?” Thor sighed. He walked over to the kitchen island and collapsed onto one of the barstools.
Wanda handed him the cup of coffee Natasha had offered her earlier.
“Maybe…” she hesitated. She didn’t want to say it. She wanted to say it. Desperately. “I’ll go check on him.”
“No way! What if he does something to you?” James practically leapt from Steve’s lap, as if burned.
“I just want to see how his hand is doing,” she said pointedly, emphasizing his name. “You know, the one you shot—JAMES.”
Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and slumped back into place.
Without another word, Wanda pushed off the counter and made her way toward the guest room. She knocked cautiously.
A moment later, the door swung open to reveal Loki, towering over her.
Without waiting for an invitation, she slipped past him and into the room. He turned and shut the door with a sharp thud.
“What do you want?” he asked, his icy stare making her shiver slightly.
“I wanted to check on your hand,” she answered softly.
His gaze instantly softened. He closed the distance between them and rolled up the sleeve of his black shirt.
Wanda carefully unwrapped the bandage from his forearm. To her astonishment, there was no trace of the bullet wound. Not even the faintest scar.
Gently, she touched the spot where the injury had been. Under her fingertips, his skin was cold as ice.
“How is that even possible…” she whispered, disbelief evident in her voice.
“Did I not tell you?” A barely noticeable smirk flickered across his lips. “In my fairy tale, miracles happen.”
“Well, then… I guess there’s no reason for me to stay,” she said, turning toward the door.
She had to leave. She couldn’t get caught up in his games, couldn’t let herself be drawn in. She saw through him—she knew exactly what he was trying to do. And she had to be above it.
Loki only wanted to mess with her head, use her, then leave. They were all like that.
“You know we won’t see each other again,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft… and sad.
Something inside Wanda wavered.
It didn’t break completely. Just wavered.
She turned to look at him, tilting her head slightly as she took in his displeased expression.
“You say that like you actually want me to stay,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why?”
Loki stepped closer, shrinking the space between them to mere inches.
Their shoes nearly touched.
“Because I want to tell you my fairy tale,” he whispered.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Wanda shivered from the coldness of his touch.
Their faces inched dangerously closer.
“Loki, we’re leaving!”
The door swung open with a loud bang, and Thor stormed in, shattering the tension in an instant.
Loki pulled his hand away from her cheek and met her deep green eyes.
“Goodbye, Wanda Maximoff.”
⸻
He hadn’t slept all night.
All he could think about were her green eyes, her chestnut hair, the warmth radiating from her, and the faint scent of vanilla cookies that lingered around her.
He didn’t want to forget her.
But he had to.
Because they would never see each other again.
And it didn’t matter.
Rising from the bed, he pulled on a black robe and stepped out onto the massive stone balcony. From there, he could see the entire northern stretch of Asgard. In the distance, the Bifrost shimmered—a rainbow bridge that had brought him to her. And taken him away.
The night was cold and dark.
But silent.
So very silent.
Leaning against the balustrade, he gazed up at the stars.
“Oh, Wanda,” he murmured. “You have no idea how powerful you are.”
He could only hope that, one day, she would hear it.
That she would hear from him just how much she had unsettled his mind with that one fleeting encounter.