Insatiable Habits

Opening Up

Not a day went by where you didn't think of Natasha. Some days, things were okay. You could chat, hold conversation, sometimes even socialise with the others all at once. You checked up on Tony occasionally, when your emotions could withstand it. Other days you stayed alone, in the outer lounge where you used to sit with Bucky. No one ever came there - you liked it that way. Weeks passed, it had been over a month now and you were still fluctuating between a half witted version of your usual self and the imploded, emotional version of you that Natasha's dusting had left you with. You didn't sleep in Wanda's room anymore - ever. The way she would pull you into her at night reminded you too much of Natasha. Even when you shot up at the grievingly familiar touch, her way of wrapping herself round you in comfort conjured emotions that made your heart ache for your late girlfriend. You couldn't face it anymore.

You hadn't meant to, but your choice to isolate yourself from Wanda had turned out to be somewhat selfish. Perhaps you felt you didn't need her, but she certainly needed you. If only you cared enough to check in. Unfortunately your mind was clouded with one thing only - Natasha. At least some things never change you think.

You're not sure what day it is. Legs up on the coffee table, you're watching a re-run of a show you've seen too many times to count - wrapped in a deep blue blanket that Bucky kept here for movie nights. Your train of thought is interrupted by a faint knock at the door, so distant that you question if had you really heard it.
You pause the television as Wanda opens the door, leaning in, holding the frame.
"Can I come in ?"
You nod and shuffle along the couch, trying to fog your annoyance at her interruption - afraid she may look into your head.

"I didn't mean to interrupt." she stated, taking her place next to you. Clearly it hadn't worked.

There was a moment of quietude in the room as Wanda fidgeted with the many rings she wore. Things had become slightly awkward between you, without denying - you were to blame.
"Is everything okay, Wanda ?"
She stopped to gaze up at you, analysing your expression, looking you up and down.
"I noticed that you're...not coping."
She wasn't wrong, but part of you was embarrassed at how noticeable it was.
"I didn't know how to approach you since you kind of, just, ignored me...but I am here. I told you that from day one."
Immediately, immense culpability overtook you, as you noticed the bags under the witch's eyes ; her nervous fidgeting, the tremble in her lower lip. She needed you and for weeks, you hadn't been there. Your mind was racing with apology and self-reproach.
"I'm here too, Wanda. Well...now I am."
She pressed her lips tightly together, choking back her evident need to cry.
You moved closer to her, unraveling yourself from the blanket and holding out the arm closest to her position.
"Cmon. Get under."
She grinned at you appreciatively, as she slid under your arm pulling the blanket with her. She slid her leg over yours and embedded herself on you.
The position reminded you of Natasha.
"I'm sorry I remind you of her." Wanda speaks up from your chest.
You always forget that she can hear your thoughts.
"It's okay. It's nice, I guess I'm just not used to it."
You bury your cheek into her head for reassurance as she tightens her grip round your stomach. You cling to one another as you press the remote, starting up the television.

Within the hour both Wanda and yourself had succumb to your drowsiness, clearly having reaped the benefits of the comfort in your shared embrace. You woke in the night, only this time not due to fright or a sudden remembrance of Natasha. It was natural - you were just thirsty. Wanda was laid across you still, but with her legs tucked behind her. You realised that neither of you could stay this way the rest of the night, so opted switch to her room.
You were still unable to face your own.
You swivelled on the couch, Wanda now laying between your legs. You lifted her gently, letting the blanket retreat into the couch, falling from her shoulders as you raised her. You were surprised with your ability to lift her, not because she was heavy, but because you had done near no training since being back. Like your room, the training hall was plastered with remnants of Natasha - a truth you were unable to confront as of yet. You pushed your way out the room, backing out the door as you held Wanda's head close to your chest. You took the elevator to her floor, covering her ears when the speaker dinged upon arrival.

You pushed open the door to her room with your foot, sliding through before lowering her onto the bed. Slipping in, you pulled the duvet from beneath her, which ultimately woke her up.
She was confused at first by the setting. You giggled at her perplexed look, moving in next to her.
"Is it morning ?" she questioned.
You smiled at her as she took you in her arms this time. Laid flat on her back, you were glued to her side, head already heavy against her collarbone.
"No, it's dead night. We fell asleep on the couch."
She was already drifting, as were you. Her words tripped up on one another. Finally, you noticed something unique to Wanda that didn't serve as an agonising note to Natasha. When Wanda was tired, she lost her ability to speak. Her words slurred as if she were drunken and she often trailed off her sentences leaving them unfinished.

Once again, you felt your eyes fluttering shut as Wanda's breathing grew heavy. Perhaps you'd be able to sleep the night. Maybe just one without interruption.