Safe Place

11: Weird Feelings

Wanda's POV: 

This food is the absolute most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Ever. It's better than paprikash. It's better than birthday cake. 

I turn to Nat to tell her, but she's looking off into the distance. She seems troubled, and her eyes look wet, which is strange. The Black Widow doesn't cry. It must be a trick of the light.

I poke her arm.

"Hmm?" Nat asks distractedly. "What?"

"This is the best food ever," I declare. "The best food in the entire universe."

She smirks. "So I chose well?"

On impulse, I fling my arms around her, ignoring the zing I can't help but feel when I'm touching Nat. She seems surprised, but she returns the hug, gently patting my back. I lean into her. 

My mind is everywhere, like a nervous little jumping bean. But one thing in particular keeps nagging me. It makes my stomach twirl so much that I can't even finish my fries. 

"So, uh," I start, pulling away from her slowly, trying to organize my tangle of thoughts. "Before Todd came - um - "

Nat suddenly stiffens. She resembles a dog with its ears perked up, except she's far too pretty to be a dog. She's pretty enough to be a queen. Not that queens have to be pretty. But Nat should be a queen. And she's pretty. Really, really pretty. She'd be the prettiest queen in the land.

Anyway.

"Yeah?" she asks, tapping her nails on the table nonchalantly. "What about it?"

I recoil the littlest bit. I'm not sure she even notices. 

But right before Todd came over...everything felt strange. The air felt charged, like it was sparking with electricity, like everything was sparkling. I felt short of breath and finally able to fully breathe at the same time. We were so close that I could smell her tropical fruit-scented shampoo. I wanted to keep inhaling that same scent for the rest of my life. 

My eyes kept drifting to her mouth. It's a good mouth, well-shaped, with the little dip at the top like models always have. Her lips are a silken reddish color. They look soft, much softer than my own chapped brownish-pink ones. 

My own chapped brownish-pink ones were tingling.

But maybe that was just me being weird. I mean, I haven't interacted with people very much. It's probably just social anxiety. Or something like that. There has to be an explanation. And Nat's so pretty it's distracting. I'm sure that happens to the guys all the time, you know, they look at her and they forget what they were doing. 

They get lost in her eyes. All they know is how perfect she looks with her windswept red curls, and the way her lips quirk up at the sides. They feel hot and dizzy and like the world is shaking under their feet, threatening to bring them down into a swirling pool of giddy bubbles.

Poor guys. That must be hard. To be so distracted all the time, I mean. 

I guess I'm lucky I'm a girl. I'm a girl that likes guys. And I don't see Nat that way. Sorry, but no.

My hands start to shake. My heart starts to quiver.

"Wanda!"Nat yells. 

I jump so violently I almost spill my drink. "Ahhh! What? What?"

"Girl," she groans. "I've been calling your name for a full minute. You were in your own world!"

I chuckle nervously. It sounds more like a squeak. "Oh. Uh, sorry," I say, fiddling with a fat silver ring on my pointer finger. "I was just tired, I guess. Zoned out."