Chapter 6
It was close to midday when Wanda finally woke up from her longest night of the week. Lately, she had found herself having trouble with the process of going to sleep as anytime she would close her eyes and do nothing, she would get overwhelmed with negative thoughts. Some of them were about Pietro, or her parents, and it simply hurt more than it ever did. She had never been alone like this, without her twin brother, without an annoying – comforting – presence. Wanda sighed whilst she tried to fall back asleep, hoping to dream again, the only action that felt like she was home.
As she arose from her bed with difficulty, she heard a knock on her door. It was too early for this, even if it was just Steve asking if she wanted to accompy him to the groceries, she didn't have the energy. Nevertheless, it wasn't Steve, a firm voice rang out behind the door confirmed it.
"Maximoff, can I come in ?" Natasha asked, leaning against the wood, already convinced that the witch wouldn't want her to go into her bedroom.
Wanda didn’t like how the spy kept calling her by her last name, it felt impersonal, which was probably the exact reason Natasha used it, instead of her first name. She didn’t want her to think they were friends, she wanted to be as far as possible from her, and yet, she was standing behind her door.
"Why ?" Wanda interrogated, not replying to the spy's question, as she was used to. It kept frustrating the red-haired woman : usually, she could almost read people's mind by a look at their face, but the Sokovian was very different.
“To burn your place down,” she replied, a drop of sarcasm filling up her voice. She missed Wanda's small smile, who stood close from the door, not certain she wanted the spy to enter her very messy room. She was convinced that Natasha was the sort of person to be extremely organised and judge others for their untidiness nature.
Unsure if Wanda hadn't fallen back asleep, the redhead spoke again in an attempt to please her old friend who had requested the witch's visit. “I'm heading to Clint's house and he suggested you'd come too. You could meet little Nathaniel,” she proposed.
Wanda could feel Natasha's smile as the latter pronounced the boy's name, thereby she smiled in return, which the spy couldn't see, and the mysterious nature of the Sokovian was starting to upset her. Wanda didn't feel very zestful, this morning, but she couldn't refuse the offer. Talking to Clint could ease her mind somehow, even if the social activity would exhaust her. “Yes, okay,” she simply replied before sitting back in her bed, gathering the energy to appear a bit more joyful than she was feeling after Natasha ordered her that they would leave in thirty minutes.
When she walked into the garage, she noticed that Natasha was kneeling down her motorcycle, an air pump in her hands. She looked up to see the dark-haired woman who wore a beautiful black skirt with leg warmers. And instead of complimenting her as someone that had just thought something very nice about Wanda would have done, she went for a facetious remark, “You're in time, for once.”
“I wouldn't miss a second that I can spend with you,” Wanda responded, a witty smile on her face. She couldn't stop herself from trying to unsettle the other woman who seemed so in control.
“You know, Maximoff, you're rude sometimes,” the redhead stated in a voice that sounded as smooth as it could get. It felt delicious, according to Wanda.
“Thanks. I will make a list of your flaws later, but I'm afraid we have to leave now if we don't want to be late,” Wanda strongly affirmed, quite satisfied of her reply. It felt really natural to tease the spy, she usually didn't talk much when she didn't have to, but she found herself enjoying this. Her words were quickly followed by a mumble from Natasha, something about dispising Clint's ideas.
As Natasha sat on her motorcycle, Wanda came to the realisation that they wouldn't be borrowing one of Tony's expensive cars, which was perfectly logical, after a bit of reflexion. It was obvious that the spy would love to be in a position in which she had total control whereas Wanda remained at her mercy. Wanda sighed and stared at the redhead, only to spot a hint of contentment on her face. This woman would be the death of her.
Now sitting awfully close to Natasha, she began to regret her decision. Wanda had been naive to think that the spy wouldn't provoke any other strong reactions from her anymore. She gazed around, hoping that someone could save her but before her mind built a plan, Natasha spoke out, “From your state of relaxation, I guess this is your first time.”
“What ?”
“On a motorcyle, Wanda,” she added, softly laughing at the panic of her teammate, “It's gonna be fine, just hold me and it will be over as soon as you open your eyes.”
Surprisingly, her tone felt pretty reassuring, and when the motor started to function, she didn't speed up without a warning. She took her time for Wanda to unwind and adjust herself to this weird sensation.
Nonetheless, even if she felt quite comfortable, the witch never loosened her grip on Natasha's waist – it was probably the only time Wanda could touch this woman without fearing for her life, she couldn't waste this chance. The red-haired woman could perfectly sense how tight Wanda was holding her, but she didn't mind. The feeling of her fingers felt nice, it felt right, even.
Before she could stop her mind from going to different places, Natasha imagined which sensations Wanda fully holding her waist would provoke, and she let her thoughts wander as the Sokovian's fingers were anchored in her shirt.
“You can let go now,” Natasha said with a mocking smile that dissimulated tenderness.