Healing of A Broken Heart

A History Of Almost

Wanda Maximoff was your best friend.

That was that.

It was a friendship built off of years of mutual respect, even if the beginning stages were rocky.

***

Coming back from your mission, you entered the living space of the Stark Tower. To your surprise, the Tower was quiet, not filled with the usual ruckus that accompanied the rowdy group of heroes.

"Hello? Tony? Nat? Clint? Anyone? JARVIS, where is everyone?" You called out, eventually deciding to ask the building's AI. No one responded still. "JARVIS? Did something happen to the Tower?" Again, no one responded.

Having been off grid for the better part of two months, you hadn't kept up with the news. You were unaware of Ultron's attack, or Vision's creation, or the arrival of the Maximoff twins. All you knew was that none of the Avengers were home, so you made your way towards the sleeping quarters, finding them bare as well.

"What is going on?" You asked exasperatedly, throwing your hands up in confusion.

Retracing your way back to the kitchen, a brunette girl in boots was now standing there. The minute she sensed you, her eyes immediately turned red and you were suddenly thrown against the wall with enough force to knock the air out of you before you could even react.

"Oof. What the hell?" You moaned, finding yourself unable to move as red rope like tendrils pinned you against the wall.

Through your blurry tear filled vision, you could see the outlines of a shadow approaching you. "Who are you?" The attacker demanded, words thick with an accent you couldn't immediately identify. You quickly regained your senses, blinking away the daze from being caught off guard and immediately took in your situation. Embarrassingly, the first thing you noticed was how pretty the attacker was, the girl bristling under your intense gaze. Forcibly pushing away that inappropriate thought, you evaluated the threat level of the intruder. Her frame was small, and if it were a test of pure physical prowess, you would have definitely been able to defeat her, unfortunately for you, she seemed to possess magical abilities. Her stance was offensive, but lacked any real substance: it wasn't a stance ready for fighting. Everything, from the way she carried herself to the way she left herself open to attacks indicated that she wasn't a fighter, or at least not a professionally trained one. Yet, you were still the one at the disadvantage and really couldn't see any way you could escape. There was no mobility in your body, and the only exit out of the room was the entrance which was blocked by the girl; simply put, you were definitely screwed.

"At least I'll die at the hands of a pretty girl." You thought to yourself. A faint blush appeared on the girl's cheeks, and you wondered if you had accidentally said your embarrassing thought out loud.

Clint walked through the front door at that exact moment, and upon noticing you restrained against the wall, burst out laughing at seeing you so helpless and overpowered, " HAHAHHA. You're-ahaha-how did this even happen? Let me get a photo. Ahahaha-Wanda, let them go. That's (Y/N), they're one of us. God, I'm making this my lock screen." He said between laughs.

You shot Clint an annoyed look as the red tendrils retreated, taking off one shoe to throw at him the minute you were free, smiling with satisfaction when it hit him square in the face, though the smile fell when he ran off with it, leaving you standing with one shoe.

"(Y/N)." The girl-Wanda- repeated beside you like she was testing out the name, drawing your attention back onto her. You really enjoyed hearing your name in her voice. Her eyes met yours and you noticed that they were a brilliant shade of green, nothing like the bright red from before. They suited her well.