Chapter 6
With the apartment to herself for the night, Wanda paints. She pulls out a canvas and easel, and sets out her paint and supplies on an old blue bed-sheet by one of the windows near the kitchen. It's over in the space outside of Wanda's room, the area that's never really used for much else, except sometimes drying clothes by the window. She moves a few little things out of the way, like Pietro's shoes she's been asking him to move for days now, and a basket of fruit she picked up on the way home. Wanda moves all of these things out of the way, then drags the bed-sheet over. It's a pale shade of blue, and is already covered with all of her old paint stains. She spreads it out on the floor, then sets out her paper, brushes, and paint.
Wanda turns on the stereo in the kitchen and leaves the music playing, while she pours herself a glass of wine, picks up her packet of cigarettes, and finds a hairclip to pull all of her long curls up into. Then she returns to the canvas and easel, putting the wine on the floor with the cigarettes, and standing up to pull her hair back. She twists it up and ties most of it back, leaving only a few, curly strands hanging out. Wanda takes a sip of wine next, then places herself in front of the canvas and waits.
It takes a moment, it always does. Then it comes to her. It's a quiet, dull image in her head. She sees something, and soon finds herself longing to paint it on the canvas. It begins as something dark, and small, while she blends the paint together. She mixes colors, and searches, until she finds the shade she's looking for. It's a faded, heavy gray. Wanda curves her brush over the canvas and starts, as the music continues around her. It's loud, and to some it might be distracting, but it helps to have such loud noise around her, while her mind is quiet. It works. She takes her time, moving gently, and steadily, while the silhouette starts to take shape on the canvas. It's a shadow; it's a man.
It's faint, and faraway, and for the moment it's only a silhouette, but she already knows where she's going to fill in little specks of color around it. Around the man, she'll paint a city. It will be faded, and close to him, and there will be little sparks of color in it, but he will stay the same. She already sees how it will look, how it will end. She sees the city in light shades of brown and heavy reds, nothing bright, not with him. For now he'll stay faded, he'll stay gray, until she finds the right colors to add. She mixes in other colors around him, filling the world in, and it isn't a world of color but she finds something beautiful in it. Wanda feels lost in it. She works slowly, and tries to imagine that she's there with him. It's strange, the way it starts to come together like something she's seen before. It's somewhere she's been before. It's this afternoon, in the alley. It's the shadow of a man, disappearing on to the horizon. It's still on her mind now. He's still there. It makes sense why she paints it, and why it looks like the silhouette is running to the horizon.
She doesn't paint him, it's more like the shadow of a man. It looks airy, and thin. There's such little detail to the city around him, that it's not really about the city, but it doesn't feel like it's about the man either. There's a blur to everything. It's almost a layer of uncertainty. Wanda likes it that way. She keeps painting, and filling in the world around him. She's not sure why she looks at it like he's a shadow, slipping away, but she likes the way it looks. She stops for a minute, to finish her wine, refill the glass, and then to light a cigarette. Wanda takes it over to the window, away from the canvas. She stays there for a while, then finishes up and returns to the painting.
It's just as Wanda picks up her brush that her phone rings, and she considers leaving it, until she thinks it could be Pietro. It turns out it isn't Pietro, she realizes soon. It's Steve. She doesn't know why, but she feels herself frowning as she stares at his name on her phone. Wanda leaves the phone to ring out, and it's not really even something she does intentionally, she just leaves it ringing too long and then it's gone. Steve ends the call, and a minute later the (1) missed call notification appears on her screen, followed by the (1) new voicemail. Wanda's fingers hover over the phone for half a second, before she clicks to play Steve's message.
"Hi Wanda, this is Steve. We spoke earlier. You called me about the training.. I'm just calling to see if that's something you're still interested in, since I never heard back from you after I sent you our schedule. I'm only calling because Clint got in touch today, he was curious if we'd started yet, or if you changed your mind. So just give me a call back or text whenever you're free and we'll sort it out. Talk soon."
It falls quiet after the message finishes playing. It's almost quiet, anyway. There's a new song playing on the stereo, another one of Pietro's loud, heavy beats. Wanda stares at the phone and finds herself waiting while she considers it. She's not sure why she's left his messaged unanswered, or why she let the call ring out. He's free most mornings and afternoons she is, and their schedule works. She's thankful that he worked it out, so she doesn't really know why she left it unanswered. Or that's what she tells herself, while she drinks a little more wine and tries not to think about it.
She knows why she's avoiding his calls and their schedule for the training. It's the dreams she's been having lately. It's not Sokovia, it's the man. In her dreams he stabs her and takes everything, and she's left bleeding, and her brother's left alone. It's after the dreams that she wakes, sweating, and breathing too heavy—and it's just too much. She's not afraid, but she's concerned of how she'll be when the training starts. She knows it's only something she'll figure out once it happens, and she knows it needs to happen, and that's why she picks up the phone.
It only rings a second before Steve picks up.
"Hey, Wanda?" his voice echoes over the line. "How are you doing? I wasn't sure I'd hear from you tonight."
Wanda sighs, taking a seat at the table. "Hi, yes. I know, and I'm sorry I didn't answer your call or messages. I was busy, but I'm here now. Did you want to discuss the schedule you sent over?"
"Yeah, I did. Look I only called you because Clint asked me about it today. He wanted to know how it was going. When I told him we hadn't started, he thought you might have changed your mind. And so did I. And if you did, that's totally fine. Just let me know what you're doing, so I know what I'm doing. That's all. No pressure."
She pauses, fingers curled lightly around the end of her wine glass. "No, it's fine. I'm good. I've just been busy. I have looked over the plan, and it's fine. Thank you for taking the time to work it out. I appreciate it. The last thing I would want to be is a bother, or an inconvenience."
Steve doesn't hesitate, not even for a second.
"Oh, of course not, Wanda. You're not one, not at all. I used to do training all the time, but life got in the way. It's out of the way now, and I've got the time. I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you feel the same."
"I am, too." Wanda says, between sips of wine. "How is tomorrow morning for you? I have not looked at our schedule tonight. But I have a busy week. Tomorrow morning I am free."
It seems to catch him by surprise, but only for a few seconds.
"Yeah, sure. Tomorrow's fine. It's great, and it works for me. I can come to you, if you want? We can start with the basic stuff, like stretches, running, and building up stamina. Then we'll see where it takes us from there. Sound good?"
"It does. I will text you where to meet, if that's okay?"
"Of course. I'm looking forward to it."
She hums a quiet reply, then finishes off the rest of her wine. Wanda's up on her feet, filling her glass up again, when a thought pops into her mind and she can't get it out.
"Can I ask you something, Steve? Before you go.. It isn't about the training."
Steve barely hesitates again.
"Sure. What's up, Wanda?"
"Do you ever have a feeling like there's something you want to do.. But at the same time, you think you shouldn't. You know which one will be worse, if you don't choose it. But you still can't make up your mind. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, of course. I think we all have those kind of feelings through our lives." he says, stopping briefly. "That's how you feel about the training? You want to, but at the same time you don't?"
"Mm. Yes. Something like this."
"Speaking from my own, personal experience..When I get a feeling like I know I need to do something, and I know it will improve things for me, but at the same time I feel like I shouldn't do it—well that's how I know it's something I have to do."
There's another pause. Wanda drinks a lot more wine, and before she can answer Steve's speaking again.
"We can wait, if you're not sure. You shouldn't do it if you're not ready. And I'm fine to wait, I mean that. We can start whenever you're up for it."
"I'll text you soon about where we can meet up for tomorrow." she answers, decided. "Thank you, for this. And for the talk. I'm sorry for interrupting your night again."
"It's fine. I'm happy to do it. And trust me, you didn't. I don't mind. I called you first, remember?" Steve says, and it almost sounds like he's smiling. "And I'm glad I heard from you. Thanks for the call, Wanda. Talk soon. Night."
Once the call ends, Wanda finds herself in the kitchen, staring at her half-empty glass of wine. She finishes the rest in a few sips, then leaves it in the sink and returns to her canvas. There, she picks up the brush and stares at it for a while, only moving when she feels something pull her to paint a little light somewhere, or deepen the shadow somewhere else on the canvas. It feels better now somehow, it feels like it all flows easier. She adds in little pieces of color, and it feels like there's a better balance now then there was before. Steve's words stay with her while she paints, and it's because there's a truth to his words that she can't let go of, even if she wishes she could. She's glad that she can't let it go, but she decides to leave those thoughts alone and paint for a while.
It works, until it doesn't. It all works, until the apartment above theirs starts to play their loud, heavy music again, and Wanda tells herself that's why it's not working, even if she knows it's really because the thoughts aren't leaving her alone like she wishes they would. She steps back from the canvas, brush in her hand, and waits for it to pass, or for a feeling to keep going to hit her. It doesn't. It sounds like there's a party going on upstairs, and Wanda really doesn't care how loud it is. She feels finished with the painting for the night anyway, and leaves it to dry in the kitchen, after packing up all of her supplies and retreating into her bedroom with another glass of wine.
She turns on the lights above her bed when she gets into her room. The lights are small silver globes strung out over her bed, with tiny little details and patterns on them. She turns them on, leaving all other lights off, and strips out of her clothes slowly. There's a breeze in the air that seeps in through the windows, bouncing off her skin. Wanda enjoys the way it feels (cold, and distant, and barely there) against her body. She steps into the bathroom slowly, starts to fill the tub up, and then leaves to retrieve a few things. She pulls together her cigarette, glass of wine, phone, headphones, and iPod. Then she returns to the bathroom a minute later, ready to escape for a little while.
Wanda piles all of her hair up on her head when she's in there, clipping it high. Then she steps into the tub, phone and headphones tightly held in her hand. The water's warm enough that it's nice when she gets in. She turns off the tap, slides under the water and bubbles, and pops her iPod on to the playlist she feels like listening to tonight. She puts it off to the side, away from the water, and lets the music distract her. It always distracts her. Wanda sinks deeper into the tub and stays there for a while. She reaches for the glass of wine soon, and then her phone.
It reminds her of the promise she made Steve, to pick a place for their training tomorrow, and to text him about it tonight. Wanda settles into the tub, phone in her hands. She starts to quickly type a message, and it really doesn't take long. She picks one of the parks nearby that she likes going to. It's spacious, and not too busy, and it's familiar. There's lots of room to run, stretch, and train there. Then she picks the time and sends the message, and it's gone, and she realizes it's really happening, and she feels almost happy about it. Wanda places the phone to the side and settles back into the tub, enjoying the music, and the escape from it all. She doesn't know how much time she spends there before her phone lights up with a new message. It's so dark in the bathroom, the only light comes from her phone, or the streetlights outside. Wanda's eyes open slowly and she stretches over, reading it quickly. She feels more relief, knowing that it's done, and that Steve's happy with the time and place. They'll meet at nine, just fifteen minutes from here, at a place she's familiar with. She feels relieved, and like she knows it's the right thing to do.
She doesn't know why she thinks of Bucky again. It's strange, the way he's been hanging around her thoughts in these last few hours. It's even stranger, when she gets out of the tub without really thinking and disappears into her bedroom. She ends up by the stand next to her bed, where she kept his number. Wanda returns to the tub with it, leaving the dampened towel over on the sink. The water's still mostly warm, but she adds a little more, and then she settles in comfortably, slides her headphone in, and holds up the little piece of paper with Bucky's number on it. She still doesn't know why, even when she's staring at his number. She doesn't know why it's staying with her, or why she painted the sunset, the city, and the man fading away into the sky. It's the way he was, the way he smiled. It's the bandage around his hand and the hospital band. It's all of it. She can't get it out of her mind.
Wanda doesn't know how to start the message. She types it up and deletes it at least three times, then she finally settles on it.
[11:13 PM]:
knock over any other pedestrians lately?
There's nothing she can do once it's gone. She doesn't regret it, not really. She just doesn't really know why she sends it. Wanda decides it's just because it's been on her mind, and that's all it is. He's no-one to her, just a stranger, passing by, only she can't really believe that's all it is. She wonders then if it's because she recognized something in him, something she carries herself, and maybe she doesn't know what it is right now, or maybe she does. She forgets about it and sinks deeper into the tub, focusing on how the wine tastes, or how the water feels.
In her own little world, of music, wine, and cigarettes, she feels like she could slip away. She takes her headphones out eventually, when a song she likes starts to play from the apartment upstairs. Wanda puts her phone aside, closes her eyes, and lets herself drift away again. She doesn't fall asleep, she's just not so awake. She only realizes this when a loud, heavy thump against her door wakes her and she jolts forward. The music's still playing in the apartment above theirs, it's just a different song now. She doesn't know how long it's been, and she doesn't know who's knocking on her door. She just knows that when she opens her eyes, her phone is in the tub with her.
Wanda's quick to pull the phone out of the water, but she soon realizes it's been in there for a while. It's in there with her cigarettes and the piece of paper that used to have Bucky's number on it. Now it's all smudged and faded. It's all ruined. She sighs and leans back into the tub, until there's another knock on the door that makes her sit upright.
"Sestra, jesi li unutra?" Pietro calls through the door. "Je li sve u redu?"
Her eyes shut briefly. "Što je? Trebaš li nešto?"
"Dobro sam. Jesi li ti dobro?"
She stills in the water, then moves, pulling her phone out and placing it on the edge of the tub with the soggy cigarettes and the note from Bucky.
"Da, dobro sam." Wanda calls back. "Evo me za minutu."
"Želiš li šalicu caja?" he calls back.
Wanda decides that tea sounds nice, so she agrees, leaning back into the tub with a sigh.
"Da molim. To zvuci lijepo."
Then he's gone off to do that, to make them tea. Wanda empties the water from the tub, steps out of it, and slowly reaches for a towel to wrap herself up in. She carries her things out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, leaving the ruined phone behind. Her bedroom door is shut now, but she can hear the noise on the other side of it. She hears the sounds of Pietro making tea, and maybe even tidying up a few of his things. She decides that he's probably just making tea. Wanda turns away from the noises, and the door, and finds a soft black shirt with long sleeves to pull on. She slides on a pair of black and red pants for bed, and soft brown socks. Once she's all dressed, Wanda pulls her hair up off her face and then returns to the bathroom. There, she sets her phone out, hoping it will dry, even though she knows it probably won't. It's only cheap, but Bucky's number is gone now, and so is Steve's. She knows that she can easily get Steve's number from Clint, it's just that she's not really sure how to get Bucky's number again. She doesn't know why she wants to.
Pietro's in the kitchen making their tea when she joins him. The clock hanging on the wall tells her it's been at least an hour since she went into the tub. She leaves those thoughts behind, and takes a seat at the end of the table. Wanda pulls her feet up into the chair, letting out a quiet sigh. Over by the bench, Pietro throws a look back at her and he glances over her quickly. His hair is messy, she notices, and his shirt is stained. She sees it now. It's a favorite shirt of his. It's white and blue, with little patterns all over it. Now there's a big stain on the front of it, and he doesn't even really seem to care. Wanda gets to her feet, joining him by the sink.
She waits for an explanation, but Pietro just half-smiles.
"A very drunk man spilt a very bright drink on me."
"Ja cu to ocistiti." Wanda insists.
He dismisses her with a wave of his hand. "It is alright. I will clean it up. But don't worry so much. Some things are meant to be ruined." Pietro says. "And before you ask this, Clint was one of the drunk men at the bar, but he was not the one who spilled this. I was a little mad at the time, but I'm not anymore."
"Go, take it off. Put something clean on." Wanda joins him by the bench, to finish making their tea. "Put on something that doesn't smell like whatever it is that smells like. Leave it by the washer and I will clean it and get out this stain later."
Pietro makes a quiet noise, but leaves anyway. He leaves Wanda to finish their tea, and once they're left to sit, she carries them to the table. There's a bag of Pietro's candies on the table, the ones he likes that she picked up on her way home. She pops two into her mouth and chews on them silently until he comes back. Pietro plops down into the seat next to her with a sigh when he returns. He drags his feet up, crossing them, and then he sees the candies and reaches for several.
"So it was a bad night?" Wanda asks curiously. "And where is Clint?"
"Home. He works early." he shrugs. "And it was not so bad. Apart from this, it was fine. What about you?"
"Not so bad. Only I have ruined my phone again."
"What?" Pietro nearly seems amused. "You are joking."
She shakes her head, ignoring the smile growing on his lips.
"We are not made of endless money, remember?" he pushes.
"Yes, I know. But it was a cheap phone, and it was an accident."
Pietro shakes his head a little, then swallows the candies in his mouth so he can speak.
"You are so...What is the word? Clumsy. Yes. You are so clumsy lately."
It's hard to not smile around him sometimes. Wanda raises her eyebrows at him slowly, trying not to smile. She likes the way it feels in her brother's company. It always feels simple, and easy, and like he can make her smile with just a few words. She likes the way it distracts her, to listen to his endless stories, even when she doubts that some of them are true. He's always tried to make her happy, the same way she's always tried to keep him safe.
"I fell asleep in the tub, it fell in. It has nothing to do with me."
"Mm, yes. You say this. But you have broken or lost two phones recently." he points out, pausing to eat more candy. "Me? I have the same phone. I always have the same phone. Why? Because I am careful, and you are clumsy."
"You are a liar. You are always having little accidents, because you are too quick and you never concentrate." Wanda says, leaning in to nudge his shoulder. "I remember last year you broke—"
"Enough about me. Tell me how you spent your night, Sestra." he hums, reaching for the tea. "I saw you have painted something new. It is very good."
Wanda half-smiles. "You looked?"
"It is just out there, in the open. How can you blame me for looking?" Pietro sighs a little. "You know, I think you should sell the paintings again. You know this already, too. They are nice. You should sell them. People would want to see them, and to have them."
She hesitates, then pulls her tea closer. "We are not talking about this again."
"Why not? Because you don't want to?" Pietro moves, propping his elbows up on the table. "I want to talk about it. Why can't we?"
"They aren't yours. You don't get a say, if they should be sold or seen."
Pietro nearly rolls his eyes, but he ends up sighing instead. "I am just saying you are talented, and you could sell them. But we will not talk about it anymore. I was just making a point, but I will leave it now."
"Good. Thank you." Wanda offers him a smile. "What time are you working tomorrow?"
"Early. Too early." he groans a little. "You?"
"I'm not. I'm doing something else, and I wanted to talk to you about it."
Wanda pauses, gripping the cup of tea lightly. She watches as Pietro's gaze flickers to hers curiously, and it's almost as if he senses it's a serious thing, because his face changes a little and he leans in closer.
"What? What's wrong?
"Nothing. Okay? Nothing is wrong. It is just that I'm going to train and run at the park, starting tomorrow. I will do it whenever I can."
Pietro almost seems puzzled at first. "For what? Why?"
"I am just doing it. For exercise. That's all." Wanda explains. "There is a friend of Clint's..He has experience in this, he has offered help."
"What friend?"
"His name is Steve." she tells him. "I have heard good things from Clint about him."
He seems at ease with it all, and smiles a little as he sips on his tea.
"Yes, I have met Steve a few times. He is nice." Pietro says soon. "You know that I could do this with you. I am good. I worked in the gym, remember? It could be fun."
Wanda smiles, stretching to pat his arm. "You are sweet. Thank you. But I am fine."
"Mm, I know." he hums. "I will be there to help if you need."
She nods, then leans back. "I know."
Pietro finishes his tea soon, then gets to his feet. "I am going to shower now, I think. It was not a bad night, but I have had better. I think I will sleep well now." he says, carrying the cup over to the sink. "What time do you leave tomorrow? I start early, so I will probably see you in the night."
"Just before 9."
"Maybe see you before then, maybe not." Pietro returns, hovering nearby. "Tell me how tomorrow goes, yes? I want to know, I am happy for you."
Wanda nods, smiling. "I will."
He stops when he's passing her by, to kiss the top of her head. Then he leaves to his bedroom, to shower and rest. It's quiet after that. Wanda finishes her tea in the silence, carrying it to the sink after she's done. She puts Pietro's cup in the sink next to hers, then walks over to their little laundry room, in the room between theirs. It's small, it's all they need. On one side there's a washer and a small sink, then on the other side there's a long bench to put washing products and clothes on, and the dryer is right near there. There's also a space between for the clothes to air and dry. It only takes her a minute to fix up Pietro's stained shirt and leave it for the night. She goes back to her room after she's done and stretches out on her bed, falling back under the cracks of the moonlight that slip into her room. She stays there for a while, skin wet, bruises still healing, until her memories of home take her away to rest.
* * * *
It's 8:30 when she gets to the park. It's quiet there but it's busy, and once she's there she realizes that she can't really remember the last time she went out for an early run in the morning. Wanda doesn't dwell on it long. She starts by stretching her arms a little, and then her legs, and after that she decides to run a lap around the park before Steve arrives. There's 30 minutes until he arrives, and there's nothing else to do before then. She just needs to be at the green bench near the entrance to the park at 9, because that's where they're meeting. She wonders if she'll even recognize Steve when she sees him, since Clint's description of him (blond, tall, blue eyes, and an unfairly fab body, in his own words) doesn't really narrow it down.
Her eyes scan the park over one more time then she's off, following the pavement around the curves and bends it leads her on. It's a large park, with a lot of green, and a thin path of concrete to follow around the dips and bends. It takes her forward, running straight ahead for a while, until there's less grass and more concrete. She runs until her watch reads 8:41, and she keeps running because there's still time. Wanda doesn't know what it is about today, but she feels like pushing herself, she feels like she's up for it. She pushes herself to a point she hasn't in a while. She pushes herself harder, and harder, until her breathing is heavier and there's sweat building on her forehead. Wanda stops for a minute, drinks a little water and then decides to run for another ten minutes and then turn back. She runs until she hopes it will make the feeling in her stomach go away, but it doesn't, it just make it worse somehow.
It's the part of her that knows she wants to do this, but still doubts it, or fears it. It's like as sure as she is, there's always something in her telling her that it's not what she needs. Wanda wants to fight that feeling, because she can't keep going on like this. She feels on edge. She knows how to defend herself. She's strong, and she knows a little self defence, it's just been a long time, and it feels like this is meant to happen, like she's supposed to do this with Steve. It's just hard to think about it when she starts to think about that night. Her fingers curl together, and it makes her palms ache from the grazing, and then it makes her think of him.
She turns back with five minutes to get back to their meeting place, knowing she's going to be late. Wanda runs fast enough, focused on getting there now and not letting herself be swept up in old thoughts. She's half-way there when a voice calls out to her from behind and she stops, turning to face him. For the briefest moment he looks familiar and she doesn't know why.
"Hey, Wanda. Right?" he offers her a small, uncertain smile. "Clint showed me a picture, so I'd know who to look for. And so I wouldn't walk up to a stranger.. Unless you are a stranger, and you just really look like Wanda."
It's Steve. She knows it in a second, she knows it from his voice, and the way he matches Clint's description. Fab body, she remembers Clint saying, and she can't disagree. Wanda chews down on her lip when she's about to smile and nods a little, taking a step over to where Steve's standing.
"You got a picture?" she asks, glancing him over again. "All I got from Clint was a description."
Steve laughs, a little amused. "What? He just described me to you? What'd he say?"
"Big. Not bulky big. Muscles. Blue eyes. Blond hair."
His smile stays there, warm and wide over his face. "Yeah, I guess that's me."
She hums, casting another look at him. "I feel like—maybe I have seen you before. And I don't know where, but I feel like I have."
The same kind of look crosses over Steve's face and then he nods, smiling, as he folds his arms over his chest. It clicks then. Wanda remembers the meeting, and then Sam, and the man out there with him. She looks away briefly, then turns back to Steve and catches him watching her. She wonders why the universe is doing this to her lately, why it's leading her to run into the same strangers she's never crossed paths with before. She doesn't mind it, and she doesn't want to question it, but she can't really stop herself from wondering if it's all for a reason.
"Yeah, I just realized the same thing." Steve pauses. "I think you were talking to my buddy Sam the other day at the hall. He works there sometimes. And I go there to listen to him, or to help out. I think that's where I saw you, right?"
Wanda smiles a little but it feels tense so she hides it and holds his kind gaze.
"Yes, I remember now. I think as I was leaving, I saw you there."
Steve nods a little. "So you work there, too?"
"No, I don't. I was just passing by, to see someone. That's all."
"Alright, well it's nice to officially meet you." Steve extends a hand, then shakes hers. "I'm glad we're doing this. I hope you're looking forward to it as much as I am."
Wanda shakes his hand, then offers him a small, half-smile. She doesn't know what it is about him, not really, but there's just something there. It's not familiar, but it feels like it is. It's more than that. He's friendly, and kind, and it oozes out of him in a way that almost seeps into her. She imagines it's not hard to smile and laugh with him, and to feel safe and happy in his company. She imagines it's not hard at all.
"I am. Where are we going to start?"
"Stretches. A light jog. Then we'll see where it takes us." he explains. "I thought we could focus on building up a routine. I've got a bunch of exercises we could do. Then we can move on to the self-defence, and anything else you're interested in."
"We can do that here?" she asks.
"Yeah, or I know a guy who owns a gym. There's also this other guy I know, he's got his own gym. Pool. All of that. We could go there, if that's something you're interested in."
She considers it, then turns her gaze to the park. "I think I am fine here now. But when I am interested in that, I will let you know?"
"Sure, sounds great. Want to start with some stretches? Then we can get into it."
Wanda nods again, agreeing. "That sounds good. And thank you again for this."
He throws her a bigger smile, as he leads the way over to the grassy, open area of the park. It's still busy, but there's so much space that it's almost like it's just the two of them here.
"It's fine, really. I'm more than happy to do it. Any friend of Clint's is a friend of mine. Well, not always. But most of them are. And he's told me a lot about you." Steve says, turning to her. "You, and your brother. He talks about your brother all the time."
Wanda smiles, wider this time. "What does he say about him?"
"Only good things. That he's funny, and kind, and a great guy." he says. "And just between the two of us, I've never really heard Clint talk about anyone the way he talks about Pietro."
It warms something in her. It leaves her smiling, even minutes later. She turns to Steve, feeling a little happier.
"That is nice to know. My brother is the same. I have never seen him with anyone the way he is with Clint. So it makes me happy to hear the same thing from you."
Steve smiles, then drops his gym bag on the grass. He settles down there, gesturing for Wanda to join. She leaves her bag next to his and sits down on the grass, following his moves, and stretching out her legs slowly.
"So what does Clint say about me? I am curious."
He looks up again. "Only good things. Like you've been nice to him. And you're a good person, just like your brother."
Wanda glances away, down to the blades of grass. "Did he tell you why I wanted to do this? Did he say why?"
For a while Steve continues stretching until he sighs, stops, and looks back to her.
"No, he didn't. And I didn't ask. Clint just said you were looking for a trainer, and I fit the brief." Steve tells her. "He didn't say. He would never say. But right here and now, I can see that something happened. I can see the bruises and marks on your hands. It looks sore. I won't ask what happened, I wouldn't. But I will ask you if you're up for this?"
She holds his gaze, and is quiet for a while until it starts to come out.
"It was an accident. I've had a few bad weeks, that's all it is. That's all."
He pauses, then smiles a little. "I get it. We can leave it at that." Steve tells her, then starts to stretch again. "So what's Clint told you about me? Or should I take a guess and say he hasn't said much?"
"How did you know that?" Wanda asks, a little curious now. "He has not said that much, if I am honest. But I guess they have not been dating that long, and Clint is not so much of a talker about these things."
Steve nods like he gets it. "Clint's, uh—well, he's got his reasons. I guessed he hadn't really shared much yet because like you said, he's not much of a talker when it comes to himself, or anything personal. He doesn't want to screw things up with your brother, I know that. And I think that he's worried someone else will screw it up, if he rushes things. So that's why, I think. But he has mentioned you to us."
"So far, you don't seem so bad."
He laughs a little, then seems to relax. "Thanks, but I was thinking more in terms of Stark screwing things up. You see, Clint's just guarded. With the divorce, that I'm sure you know about. And that bad-luck he had for a while..This thing with Pietro is special to him. So if he didn't talk about us yet, I know why."
"Clint does talk about things. He talks about places. Memories, and people. He just doesn't always get specific, and I don't always remember the names. But so far I have only heard good things about you."
"Well, that's great. And hey, it's nice to finally meet you, Wanda."
She smiles back slowly. "It is nice to meet you, too."
"Why don't we get started now?