American Fried Chicken
“Hmm I like the way my name falls from your lips.” You smile coyly, your finger trailing up her cheek to catch a tear that falls from her wide eyes. “Now, now dear. I’ll have none of that. There’s no need to cry.”
Wanda’s words get stuck below the lump in her throat only a small croak passes her lips as she feels her throat go dry, her eyes water, and her stomach churn in a way that makes her feel nauseous.
Her eyes take in yours, darkened by the dim light of the room, and she has to push down the familiar feeling of looking in them. She knows your eyes, she knows of the kindness they can contain, the love they can show, the care that is relaxing. She knows your eyes. Yet right now, as she looks into them all she sees is a crazed look, a look of being so proud that you look on the edge of going insane. Those eyes she does not know.
You hum as you let her take in the fact it is you standing in front of her, your eyes watching hers watch you. Her eyes iridescent even in the low light, a small sparkle of green shining in them as you see the fight she still has left. Your thumbs move to trace the skin just below her eyes, drying them of the tears that have stopped falling and smooth over the reddened skin.
“That’s better.” You whisper as your smile turns almost soft, almost kind but still filled with some kind of sick intention that makes Wanda’s uneasy feeling only grow. “You’re too beautiful to cry, makes your eyes puffy and your skin red. No one wants puffy eyes and red skin.”
“This has to be a nightmare.” Wanda whimpers as she flinches her head to get away from your hands that are still resting her face. “This can’t be real.”
“My dear this is all very real.” You tilt your head, bending down to meet her height, you move your hands away from her face and place them on her knees.
“No this has to be some sort of messed up nightmare. Because it can’t be real, if you’re here it can’t be … it can’t be real.” Wanda taps her right foot on the ground, as much as the ropes allow, her head tilting backwards to ward off the tears she can feel building.
“I’m right here, very much real.” Wanda hisses as you pinch her skin quickly before soothing the hurt with your thumb. “See and you’re very much awake. This is no more a nightmare than it is a dream. This is very much real. I am here, standing in front of you. Just one person in front of the other. But to me, my dear, this is a dream. Having you here with me, finally.”
Wanda presses her lips together stopping her bottom lip from trembling, shaking her head with closed eyes, her hands clenching and unclenching. A shaky breath pushes her lips apart, a small pained croak escaping her as she twists her arms in the rope. Her head rests against the back of the chair, eyes opening and looking up to the bare ceiling. A small scoff of a laugh leaves her lips before kissing her teeth, her eyes not leaving the ceiling.
“How is tying someone to a chair, with an urge to take their life not a nightmare to the person you have hostage.” Wanda scoffs as she looks back down at you, a look of anger replacing any hint of fear she may have had. “You had a knife to my fucking throat, you have cut my throat and my fucking face. You had your hand around my throat, and you ripped my clothes while I was asleep! Shit! This may be real, and I may be awake but this. Oh this is a living fucking nightmare and you are the monster in the closet that children are afraid are watching them sleep.”
“Oh, she thinks she is all big and scary using her big bad words.” You smile a vile smile as you move your hand from Wanda’s knee down to your boot, her eyes watching you diligently as you pull a small karambit from a holster on the side of your boot holding it out between you and Wanda. “Now let's see how brave you are with your words.”
“Fuck you.” Wanda’s spit out, some spray getting on your face.
“That’s disgusting, you know.” You huff as you use your sleeve to wipe at the spit. “And that is the second time you have done that. Dirty habit. And such foul language. What would your dear husband say if he heard such profanity leaving those lips of yours? Hmm? Would he ban you to the couch for the night? Maybe make you do the dishes for a week? Oh maybe he would threaten divorce, I heard it is scary to be threatened with that?”
“If you think that's the worst someone can threaten you with then you are stupider than you look.” You gasp holding your free hand to your heart as you tap the tip of the knife rhythmically against Wanda’s knee. “Or maybe you should look in the mirror when you talk about people threatening other people.”
“So feisty.” You hum out as you trace the edge of the knife around Wanda’s knee cap before removing the blade from her leg, putting the tip of her knife against the bottom of her chin. “Come on, you can’t say you didn’t miss me. I’ve missed you my dear Wanda.”
“I haven’t even thought about you since the day you left.” Wanda grits between her teeth, feeling the point of the knife against her skin, keeping herself still to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. “Not a single thought of you.”
“My dear Wanda, if you were Pinocchio your nose would be as long as the Williamsburg bridge. Just because you can say the words does not mean they are true, and it does not mean you believe them. Because my dear, I know you more than you know yourself. I know your tells, I know when you’re lying to me and I know, even more so, when you are lying to yourself.” You move the knife to trace the edge of the blade along the bottom of her jaw. “You may have everyone else fooled with your high on life act but I see you Wanda. I see you.”
“You don’t see me at all. If you did you wouldn’t have me tied to this chair with a knife to my throat again. You are not the person I used to know, not the friend I used to cherish, not the love I used to have. You have become this thing, who thinks they are mightier than me by trying to scare me before they murder me but I know you. I know you, and you don’t scare me. Death does not scare me. I will not allow you the satisfaction of scaring me before taking my life. You don’t get to do that.”
“If you think you have any say in what I do with you.” Your voice low as you move your free hand up to her face, pushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear, using the knife to do the same on the other side. “Darling, you are sorely mistaken, I am the one who has managed to hold you here, keep you sleeping, hide you from the world. It's sad really how many people aren’t looking for you. Your face has popped up in the news but I don’t think anyone is truly looking, or at least not as many as you would think.”
“The news?” Wanda’s voice goes quiet as her eyes look into yours as a demonic smile spreads across your face.
“Oh my darling, I forgot to say. You’ve been here for two weeks now.” You giggle something sickening as Wanda’s eyes go wide and fresh tears instantaneously fall. “You’ve been in the paper, your posters are plastered on the streets, You even made it to national television! That would make one think they are being looked for, but surely if they were truly searching they would have some leads by now or accused a particular someone who has a few things in their police record.”
“Two weeks?” Wanda’s voice cracks, as a new reality sets in. “You’ve had me here for two weeks?! But I've just woken up. That’s impossible, I can’t have been here for two weeks already.”
“Oh my darling it is very true. It took 5 days just for a missing person report to be filed. 5 whole days. And it wasn’t even your husband who filed it, what sort of person doesn’t realise their own wife is missing? Terrible man.” You tut with a small shake of your head as Wanda’s bottom lip starts to tremble. “I don’t even think he is looking, not truly, I mean he did a few interviews about what an amazing wife you are and how he misses you dearly and something about wanting you home safe. Although people aren’t convinced and think he has done something.”
“Two weeks.” Wanda repeats more to herself than anything.
“Yes we already went over this. You have been here for two weeks.”
Wanda lets out a choked cry as she looks back up at the ceiling as you stand up and move to stand behind her. The knife no longer touching her but instead resting against the back of the chair, your free hand moving to play with strands of Wanda’s hair: twisting it around your fingers.You lean over slightly so you cover her view of the ceiling, that sickening smile making her feel sick to the stomach.
“They’re never going to find me no matter how long they look.” You hum moving your hand from her hair to your jaw, tracing the back of your finger along it.
“I mean I think they are asking for information at this point, and the police probably believe they are looking for a body more so than a living person. Like I said they suspect your husband did something, they always suspect the husband. Then in a few more weeks when they can’t find you they'll just stop looking. You’ll become another number in a statistic no one really looks at.”
“Vision will never stop looking. He loves me.” You chuckle at her words, slowly moving to stand back in front of her, your finger and thumb move to her chin to pull her head down to stop her looking up, keeping the knife on the top of the chair.
“I know a thing or two about love my darling and the way that man talked about you on the news, well, I don’t know it sounded…” You kiss your teeth, your thumb rubbing the skin just below her lip. “Scripted. Like he had practiced in the mirror. Word for word, line for line. Very robotic. Kind of suspicious if you ask me.”
“How can you be suspicious of him when I am here with you? Wherever the fuck here is.” Wanda tries to turn her head away as your thumb rubs at her bottom lip, but the grip you have on her jaw stops her.
“He just sounded like a robot more than an actual human. I find that weird.” You shrug your shoulders.
“The person who is holding me captive finds it weird my husband is just a little robotic.” Wanda gives a small smile at the thought before removing it from her face completely, choosing to press her lips together instead.
“I do. But that’s just me I guess. Oh!” You tap the knife against the back of the chair with a more than excited smile. “Though those sisters are looking for you. You know Romanov and Belova. Yeah they are putting up a pretty good man hunt for you. You’re all over social media at the moment, though a lot of conspiracy theorists are taking this whole the husband who murdered his wife and they are running with it. There are so many theories about where your body is, what he did with you, why he did it. It's very entertaining to watch them bury your husband while I have you here all to myself.”
“It doesn’t matter what happens out there, when I am in here and I am going to die.” You tilt your head moving the knife to tap against your own chin.
“I don’t know if I ever actually said I would kill you. I said I had killed before you. I think I said I am going to have fun with you.”
“And kill me.”
“Hmm well.” You voice a slightly higher pitch as you shrug your shoulders. “Let's just see where our time together takes us shall we?”
“I think I have strong knowledge of where our time together is going to take us, or at least me.” Wanda sighs in defeat, closing her eyes for a moment and missing the look of guilt that spreads across your face at her dejected tone.
“You hungry dear?” Wanda’s brows scrunch as her eyes slowly open to meet yours, her brows scrunching more as she sees more kindness in them than she has seen this whole time. “Oh wait here.”
You bend down to put the knife back in its little sleeve on your boot, drumming your hands against the seat of the chair as you slowly stand back up. Your twist on your toes, and start to walk towards the other side of the room where the light in the room doesn’t quite illuminate. Wanda feels a slight panic rise in her as you seem to be swallowed by the darkness of the room, the sound of wood creaking going right through her and makes a shiver travel up her spine.
Before she can question where you disappeared to, the dark abyss ahead gets shrouded with light as you open a door. You leave the door open allowing Wanda to be able to see the stairs you walked up just moments ago, the knowledge of knowing she is in what is most likely your basements settles in her mind allowing her to relax ever so slightly with the knowledge.
Her eyes move to something against the wall, the light from the door highlighting a board hung on the wall. Wanda leans herself forward as much as she can with being bound, her eyes squinting slightly to try and help her eyes see better. Her eyes get drawn to a picture that’s closest to the door, easier to see with how much light is on it.
At first she thinks it is a picture of her. Red hair, a slightly crooked smile, green eyes and pale complexion. But her eyes take in a hint of colour that sits on the woman’s skin, moving up her neck and below her shirt's collar, Wanda’s eyes looking over the woman’s face again and again.
“What the fuck.” She whispers to herself, realising it is a picture of a woman who looks very similar to her but has a tattoo on her neck, while Wanda has no sort of ink at all.
Her eyes find another photo just below that. The moment her eyes take it in completely she drops her head, the fear she once had back again as it travels up her spine. Taking a small breath, keeping her head down as much as possible, she looks up through her eyelashes at the picture. Her stomach churning as she takes in the violent imagery.
Her eyes don’t move from the picture.
She can just about see what is left of the woman’s tattoo, her full body on show as the woman’s clothes are no longer on her body. Wanda takes in the long slices along the woman’s torso, one leading from the right hip crossing above her belly button and ending up stopping at the far side of her left breast. Another slice starts at her sternum and goes all the way down to her belly button, crossing paths with other slices on its journey. Her eyes fall upon slice after slice on the woman’s torso, her skin completely torn up, some deeper than others and some more violently gouged into her while others look delicately composed for such a violent act.
Her eyes then drop to the woman’s legs, skimming over the blood stained underwear, to see the slashes turn to burn marks. Small circle littered all over her thighs, some black and charred, others blistered while others are scars. Wanda’s eyes fill with tears as she feels a mix of emotions for the woman. Her eyes move down to the woman’s calves that are swollen and deeply bruised, her ankles bent the wrong way.
Wanda swallows the bile that builds in her throat as her eyes slowly skim back up the woman’s body, her lip trembling as they land on the Woman’s face. Or what is left of it. Wanda’s eyes close tightly, the vivid image of what she has seen flashes behind her eyelids. The way the woman’s flesh on the left side of her face had been peeled from her face with almost surgical precision, small pins holding the skin flap open against the wood table she is laying on.
The left side of her skull is missing, her grey brain completely on show with small metal prongs pushed inside of it with wires attached to them. Her eye with a medical patch over it and tapped down to the muscles that have been left uncut. The muscle of her face that has been exposed unharmed, but small sticky note arrows with writing on them point to certain things in her face.
Wanda lets the tears fall that have been building in her eyes, a choked sob parting her lips, her fingernails scratching at the wooden arm of the chair. Her toes curl, now only realising she is not in shoes only her socks, the bile in her stomach rising to her throat the taste of sick bitter on her tongue. Yet she swallows it down, wincing as she does, doing her best to regain the out of control emotions she is feeling.
She is pulled from her own mind when she hears rushed steps coming down the wooden steps, her head quickly moving up as her eyes open with a start. She watches as you practically bounce down the stairs, your hand wraps around the newel post using it to swing yourself from the last step and onto the ground towards Wanda. Her eyes catch the picture of the woman as you walk towards her, you having forgotten to close the door in your rush, but your body soon blocks her view as you stand in front of her.
“Okay so we have plenty of choices for food around here. And since this is your first official night here, awake, you should have the honours of picking what we eat.” You beam as you hold out an array of take out menus, like a spread pack of playing cards, and Wanda’s eyes moving from staring through you too looking at them.
“How could I have eaten if I have only just woken up?” Wanda’s head tilts back a little so she can look up at you as she asks.
“Feeding tube.” You say it so nonchalantly before putting the menus back in her view. “Now what do you want my dear?”
“You put a feeding tube in me?” You groan as she continues to question, your arms dropping and the menus come to rest against your thighs.
“Yes I used a feeding tube, and an IV drip so you wouldn’t die on me while you were asleep.” Wanda hums, slowly nodding her head as she processes for a moment her eyes looking in your ever curious ones.
“Why keep me asleep all this time and go through the trouble of having to keep me alive?”
“What is this? 20 questions?” You chuckle but when Wanda doesn’t seem to budge you sigh in defeat. “Fine, one second.”
You place the menus in Wanda’s lap before quickly heading back towards the stairs her eyes naturally fall to the picture of the woman on the board. You stop in front of the board this time, your finger tracing the outline of the picture before looking over your shoulder at Wanda. She misses the way a sad smile makes its way onto your face as you look at her, her eyes stuck on the picture your finger traces.
Just as Wanda’s eyes meet yours you turn back around and take the stairs two at a time, this time closing the door when you make your way out of it. Wanda plunges back into the almost darkness, only the dim light that is above her head illuminating her, but her eyes remain stuck on the picture she can no longer see.
She jumps when something above her head crashes, dust from the ceiling falling on her face as she looks up, and she hears your muffled voice. Her eyes follow the dust that falls from the ceiling as you stomp your feet against the ground, your voice muffled, all the way to the darkness that doesn’t allow her to follow your step further.
The door swings open all the way, bouncing back slightly as the hinges open as far as they can go, and instead of seeing you first Wanda sees a chair. The chair connects with the floor, you hold it with one hand making sure it does not fall down the stairs, so you can push the door closed behind you. Your body is engulfed in the darkness and Wanda only has the sound of the creaking stairs to tell her you are on the move.
“Ah!” She hears the chair drop to the floor, a loud racket of noise echoing around the basement. “Fucking hell, I need more light down here or some glow in the dark stars for these damn fucking steps. Jesus, Mary and Joseph gave myself a fucking heart attack.”
“I wish there was more light too, so I could have seen whatever just happened.” Wanda finds herself smiling, forgetting that just because she can’t see you doesn’t mean you can’t see her since she is under the only light in the basement.
“Stop with your smirking.”
The chair scrapes along the concrete floor, your silhouette starting to stand out in the darkness as you get closer before placing it in front of Wanda and leaning against the back of it. Your hands clench around the top rail, your head tilting as you take Wanda in for a moment who has a hard time hiding her smirk as she sees your chest rising up and down a bit quicker than usual. You click your tongue as you tilt your head taking Wanda in as she looks up at you with a slight smug curiosity.
“For your information my dear, I may or may not have slipped down the last one or two steps of the stairs, and I had a small heart attack thinking I was going to die for a moment.” You chuckle with a shake of your head as you swivel the chair around to sit on it backwards, your arms crossing over and resting on the top rail.
“Damn now I wish I could have seen it.” Wanda smiles slightly as you chuckle, moving your chin to rest on the back of your arms.
“So what do you want?” Wanda’s brow scrunches with a slight head tilt. “The take out choices. What do you want for food?”
“Oh.” Wanda’s lips press together as she looks down at the menus, humming before looking back up at you with a curious look you can’t quite decipher. “I can’t see all the options. Can you?”
“Oh right yeah.”
You use your feet on the ground to stabilise you as you lean forward, the chair tilting onto two legs, your hands reaching out to grab the menus off Wanda’s lap. You push the pile together so you can hold it in one hand, quickly flicking through the menus yourself before setting the chair back on four legs and shuffling it closer to Wanda.
“Okay so we got Chinese.” You lift up the menu with your free hand before placing it in Wanda’s lap. “Then there is Indian, Sushi, Paella, a KFC knockoff, kebab, a mixed Asian cuisine, and finally the American attempt of the great British fish and chips”
“That is a lot of choice indeed.” Wanda looks at the menus that you have placed in her lap, doing your best to ensure she can at least see the different types of food choice.
“It is, and I like all of it so it doesn’t matter what you pick. Just pick what you fancy dear.” You lift up the fish and chip menu before tapping it with the back of your finger. “Fun fact, although it is assumed that fish and chips is the English national dish, it was found to be a Chicken tikka masala. Apparently the English love the adaptive curry they made more than the fish and the chips, which by the way when I say chips I don’t mean from a bag. They call fries chips, and chips crisps. Anyway, what is taking your fancy.”
“Interesting for sure.” You frown at the lack of interest Wanda shows but shake it off as you watch her looking over the menu. “I’m feeling chicken.”
“Great, American fried chicken it is.” You grab all the other menus, putting them under your butt on your seat and open up the menu for the fried chicken for Wanda to skim over as you rest your arms back on the top of the chair. “So tell me about yourself dear.”
“Well you already know me, so what more do you need to know?” Wanda’s brow twitches as her eyes continue to look down at the menu.
“Well I mean I used to know you, then things happened and I never saw you again. It has to be, what, 10 years since we last saw each other. And in that time you got married and probably lots of other stuff. So catch me up on the last 10 years that I missed.”
“Well I got married, that’s it. Not much to have missed.” Wanda sighs as she looks up at you with a slightly saddened smile. “I’ll have the spicy chicken wings, with extra hot sauce and the burner burger. Oh and an extra side of fries and a can of coke.”
“Sure.” You pick up the menu turning it the right way up for you to be able to read, but you catch Wanda’s scrunched eyebrows and confused look before you can look at the writing on the paper. “What’s got your face all bunched up?”
“Oh, uhm, nothing.” Wanda shakes her head giving you a false smile and you fold the menu back up and point it at her as you look at her quizzically.
“Nah somethings up with you. You look confused. So what has got you suddenly confused.” Wanda gives you an ‘are you serious look’ but your encouraging smile pulls her in, in a way, and she sighs with defeat.
“You didn’t question the fact that I want so much to eat.” Now it’s your turn to tilt your head and look at her confused.
“Well you can eat whatever you like. It’s not up to me.” You shrug and Wanda takes a moment to look at the chair she is tied to..
“Well I mean it could be since you have me tied down here.” You kiss your teeth before giving Wanda a soft smile.
“True, but also I’m not going to control what you eat.”
“Apart from when I am asleep for two weeks.” Your smile turns down a little as you hear the vulnerability in her voice.
“I should have woken you up sooner, but I was just enjoying just seeing you so peaceful for once. And so I let you stay peaceful, probably a bit too long, while the crazy shit of the world continues outside of this bubble. And I knew you would need nutrition to stay alive. So a friend at the hospital hooked me up with some shit.”
“Well I guess that makes sense.”
“Right. So why would I comment on what you eat when I’ve been literally feeding you some shit through a tube?”
“It’s just that I ordered a burger and the wings and extra fries. I just thought you’d make a snarky comment like ‘oh someones hungry’.” Wanda shrugs as her eyes drop to her lap.
“I would never. You can have as much chicken as you want my dear, no judgement here. Especially since I am going to get a large burger meal, a large mixed chicken bucket, some chicken bites and a big bottle of coke or something.”
“Mhmm, and I assume you’re gonna try and eat it all in one sitting.” You chuckle as Wanda looks back up at you at the sound, forcing back a smile that wants to grow at how civil this is even with the current situation she finds herself in.
“Anything I don’t eat I will just reheat tomorrow or feed to the dogs.” You shrug like it's no big deal before standing up a little and pulling your shirt up to show off your toned stomach, Wanda’s eyes naturally dropping to it as you hit it playfully. “And I gotta eat enough to keep up this physique without killing myself from hunger during a workout.”
“Hmm, yeah, sure.” Wanda struggles to pull her eyes away from the few abs she can see, the rest hidden by your shirt, and the V line that disappears below your pants and you can’t help the smirk that pulls at the corner of your lips.
“Like what you see?” You ask with a cheekiness that makes the tips of Wanda’s ears go red and her pinks turn pink, her eyes finally leaving your body as she looks back into your eyes as you tuck your shirt back in and sit down.
“A woman can appreciate a nice looking body when she sees one.” You raise your brow with a soft chuckle.
“A woman who is married.”
“But my husband's body does not look like that.” That makes you smile with a smugness that makes Wanda roll her eyes and before you can say anything snarky in return she points her finger towards you. “So are you ordering food or what?”
“Wow bossy.” You hold your hands up in surrender before moving one to your back pocket pulling out your phone, not even using the menu to dial their number.
“Wow you ordered this much from them, they are saved in your phone.” Wanda jests and you wave her off before a moment later you hang up.
“Almost got me.” You tut as you stand from the chair. “You really thought I was going to call them while you were here so you could scream bloody murder? I don’t think so. I’ll be right back.”
Wanda’s heart beats a bit faster than before, the thought having not crossed her mind. Her eyes follow you, walking up the stairs to the basement opening and closing the door as you make your way out. Her eyes dart from left to right, looking at nothing but the darkness ahead of her questioning herself. She would have just let you call and order food, she didn’t even think about using it as an escape mechanism.
Her thoughts travel too quickly for her to keep up but the main voice she can hear is the why.
Why would she have not screamed down the phone? Why would she have just let you call? Why did she feel so relaxed when she was literally tied to a chair? Why was she even here?
Why was it you doing this all to her?
Her eyes are still on the spot in front of her. The spot where she saw two very different pictures of the same woman, the woman who looked like her, where she is sure there are more pictures of more women. You had mentioned how you had hurt many before her, that you had lost count, and she doesn’t want to know how many faces are on that board. She wonders if she’ll end up on that board, pictured before and after, how her demise would look. Would it be quick and painless or would it be like the woman she can’t get out of her mind? Tortured and on display.
New questions start to circle Wanda’s mind, her eyes closing but all she sees is flashes of the dead woman. However, the more it flashes in her mind the less it scares her or makes her feel sick. Instead it makes the fact that you are probably going to kill her finally settle deep within her, the fear and the nausea all but disappear and are replaced with acceptance and an eerie calmness.
Why her? Why murder people? Why murder so many you have lost count? How did you become someone who did this? What went wrong in your life to turn you into someone who kills for pleasure? Could she have stopped you if things were different? Would you be this person if life hadn’t gotten in the way? Is she the reason that you do what you do?
“Food is here!” You say in a sing-song voice as you bounce down the stairs, Wanda is jolted from her thoughts. “Sorry I was gone so long I had to walk Cosmo and Fenris, they have so much energy it's kind of insane.”
“I didn’t even really notice you were gone so long.” Wanda speaks quietly but you catch it as you place the bag of food down on your chair in front of her.
“Yeah time can be a funny thing, especially when you’re in the dark.” You smile sweetly and it's only then Wanda notices a craftsman knife with a sharp serrated blade and her wrists scratch against the rope as she tries to pull her hand away from the blade. “What are you doing?”
“How do you expect to eat if your hands are tied silly?” You chuckle as you start to cut the rope around Wanda’s right wrist.
“Yeah silly me.” She mumbles, her eyes dropping to watch the rope fall away from her wrist, instantly moving her hand towards her chest as she rolls her wrist in relief.
“Now I can’t really give you a knife, since you would then have the opportunity to hurt me again, but it is also food you can eat with your fingers so that’s how you shall eat it.” You inform her as the rope on her right wrist falls to the ground and she moves it so her right hand can rub at the burn left behind. “I’ll get you some ointment for that.”
“Can I have the burger first?”
“Sure thing.” You place the kitchen towel, that's over your shoulder, and place it on Wanda’s lap before reaching for the takeaway box that has her burger in it. “You want the fries to?”
“Please.” Wanda’s mouth waters at the sight of the burger in front of her as you open the box up in her lap and pour the fries in the empty side. “This looks so fucking good. I thought it was going to be some mcdonalds quality shit.”
“Never. Only the best for you. I also got you a bottle of coke instead of a can so it's not so easily to spill as you can put the lid back on it you know.”
“That’s…” Wanda sees your soft smile, your soft eyes, along with the care you have taken to think of just a simple thing and she feels a smile pull at her lips her heart skips in her chest but not from what she has been feeling since she woke up. “That’s really thoughtful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome my dear. Now eat up.” You go to pick something out of the bag but stop just for a second. “Do you mind if I eat with you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well I asked, so yeah you got a choice.”
Yours and Wanda’s eyes meet. Hers moving left to right as she takes in the genuineness of your response in your eyes, the way they don’t show any malice. Her eyes then drop to your smile. A smile that makes her want to smile, a smile that shouldn’t make her feel light, a smile she has missed all the time you have been apart; a smile that is unique to you. You sigh, grabbing your food out of the bag, jerking Wanda from her thoughts, and turn to make your way out of the basement.
“Wait.” Wanda’s pleading voice makes you swivel on your heels, a fry half in your mouth half hanging out, and Wanda leans towards your chair, stretches her arm out waving her hand in a downward motion. “Please sit.”
“You sure?” Wanda nods with a hum. “I need words my dear.”
“I’m sure. You can sit. I don’t want to eat alone.”
“Okay then.”
You lift the bag from the chair, choosing to place it on the floor, and turn the chair around so you can sit on it properly and face Wanda. You sit down softly, placing your burger box in your lap and open it to be able to pour your fries into the empty side. You open up your drink taking a quick swig before leaning down to place it on the floor, and as you sit back up you feel Wanda’s eyes on you. Your eyes meet her quizzical ones and you tilt your head at the look.
“What?” Wanda shakes her head with a soft chuckle.
“Nothing. Just this makes a difference to when I woke up. And you’re eating with gloves on?” Wanda nods towards your still gloved hands and you huff a laugh.
“Didn’t expect to be eating food with me.” Wanda shakes her head hiding her smile by taking a bite of her burger. “And the gloves stay on and we leave it at that.”
“What happens now?”
“Now you eat. Later you sleep.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow I do not know. Just eat now and try not to think about it. That’s what I do.”
“You’re not the one tied to the chair.” You sigh, putting your burger back in the box before getting another bite of it.
“And I am the one trapped in my mind. It’s not like I really wanted to hurt people, it's more of a need … a compulsion.” You take a swing of your drink as Wanda watches you carefully do so. “I can’t tell you what tomorrow will bring, as I myself do not know. Just know the compulsion is different. With you it is different.”
“How so?” You shake your head grabbing a few fries.
“It’s just different. Maybe one day you’ll understand.” You take a bite of the fries in your hand.
“You think I’ll understand this?” Wanda motions to herself with her hands as you swallow your mouthful.
“Can we just leave the what ifs and the unknowns for a moment? I am trying to enjoy my food, as should you.” Wanda’s hands drop slowly, her fingers playing with her fries.
“One more question.” You look back to Wanda, waving your hand for her to continue. “Are you going to kill me?”
“My dear, uhm, Wanda I …” You sigh as you look down at your food for a moment then back to Wanda, your eyes meeting and it's enough for you to continue. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“You don’t?”
“No I don’t.”
“Okay then. Let's eat.” You don’t question the change in subject, instead doing as she suggests. You lift your bottle off the floor tipping it towards her.
“Cheers.”
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