paper bags -- a wandanat au

day three: rapunzel

I don't know why she tries anymore. It's only my third day, yes, but this woman is too optimistic. All of them think they will be the first to get something out of me. The mute with the red hands is apparently my name in the Stark psychiatric community. After all this time, I figured these people would learn. I suppose I expect too much. When you are shown perfect understanding and acceptance, you expect it from everyone after that. Even though I think I know she will be the only person that will ever give me that, I cling to this hope that one day everyone will understand. But they never will. Not the way she did. I feel like my thoughts are repetitive, all the same thoughts jumbled into thousands of different words.

"How are you today, Wanda?" She speaks as if she doesn't know I'm not going to respond. I grunt, shrugging my shoulders as I settle into the cushion. I guess one good thing about these sessions is the couch I sit in. It is black and leather, the cushions pull you down letting your hips be completely encompassed in it's warmth. It creaks and bit and squeaks against the competing fabric of my jeans but I can handle that bit of irritation for a world of comfort. "What did you have for dinner last night? I heard you had some time out with that nice man, Steve."

"He took me to a Chinese restaurant." I answer dryly.

"That sounds good!" She says, far too enthusiastically. "I'm glad you're getting out a little." I lick my lips looking towards my usual block of wood that I will be staring at for the next hour and a half.

**

I think I was looking forward to the night that Natasha was to take me away from Stark Industries for a night. She had told me she was taking me someplace that was to be a surprise and that all I had to worry about was wearing something casual yet formal. I was not entirely sure how those two combined in any way, but I chose a pair of black denim pants and a white tank top underneath a red sweater topped off with a couple of silver necklaces and black flats. If I lost the sweater I looked pretty formal, if I kept it I looked incredibly casual. This was the first time in a while I had paid a lick of attention to my outfit. I rummaged around on my dresser for a bracelet of some sort and ended up knocking down a picture frame. I gasped, quickly picking it up and tracing the faces in the photo with the back of my thumb. It was the only family picture I had. Me and Pietro, very young sitting in the living room with my mother and father. Pietro leaning against my mother's leg was on the floor in front of a couch , and I was sitting in my fathers lap gripping the hem of his shirt awkwardly as I attempted not to join my brother on the ground. My eyes focused on Pietro, a youthful smile full of innocence plastered on his freckled face. I couldn't help but smile back at him briefly.

"I'm going out tonight..." I whispered to him through the glass of the frame, "going to have fun like you always told me I should do more often." I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I spoke. "With a woman no less." I added, "You would be envious, she is beautiful." I caressed the side of the frame again before jumping at the sound of knocking on my room door. I composed myself quickly setting the frame down and whipping my already smeared eyeliner with the back of my hand. Carefully I opened the door to the one I was expecting. Natasha. She wore a low cut black tank top underneath a leather jacket along with skinny black pants with rips in the knees revealing the pale skin underneath. On her feet she wore pointed black strap on's that looked like they were already cutting into her circulation. Her eyeliner wasn't smudged, in fact it was so perfectly winged I would have sworn a professional did it.

"Hey." She said leaning against the door frame with calm confidence.

"Hello." I nodded back at her still standing stiffly in the doorway. Her eyes glided over my body, from my eyes, to my neck to my legs all the way to my feet.

"You look good." Her eyes drifted back to my face, I wasn't sure if she was looking at my eyes or not. Her lips were shaded with a dark lipstick that suited her skin tone well, I noticed this because I was not looking at her eyes either. "Ready to roll?" She asked after a moment of comfortable silence.