Looking forward to this moment for years, Wanda Maximoff had many feelings and anticipations regarding her transition to university: nervous, yet excited. Despite spending half of her adolescence dreaming about her time at university, she truly had...
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± warnings: mentions of referenced death & war (nothing is in explicit detail — let me know if I missed any) *please do not read if you believe that you will find these topics troubling — as always, take care of yourself! ±
The two girls remained in a comfortable silence as Wanda finished unpacking. It did not require much time, for she did not carry many things to begin with. On the other side of the room, Natasha quietly sat on her bed with a book in her hands.
She looked up from her book to see Wanda struggling with getting a certain picture frame to stay upright. The frame was obviously old, showing some damage to its exterior. Chuckling to herself, she placed the book beside her on the bed and stood up. She walked over to where Wanda was fumbling, taking the frame from her and fixing it in such a way that allowed it to stand with ease. She glanced back at the brunette, smiling at the girl.
With a newfound blush that covered her cheeks, Wanda replied, "Thank you, Natasha."
To be honest, Natasha found the nerves quite endearing; she also found the way she said her name quite seductive. She could hear the accent that lingered, thus she asked: "So, Wanda, where are you from?"
Natasha did not anticipate this being such a provocative question, but she could see the wheels turning in Wanda's mind nonetheless. The brunette's gaze lowered to the ground. She was conflicted about which answer she was supposed to give the other girl. After a few seconds, she replied quietly with one word: "Washington."
She tilted her head a bit to the side, trying to form a follow-up question. "Well," Natasha began, "I can hear a slight accent in your voice. Eastern bloc, no?"
Wanda's eyes widened a bit; she did not expect someone to pick up on it, especially this soon. "Yes, you are right."
"May I ask where, then?"
Wanda let out a sigh that she did not know she was holding, "Sokovia. I was there for ten years." Normally, if she was required to talk about her past — her home — she would do so with a sort of sadness, a deep-rooted sense of despair. Yet, talking about it now with Natasha was different. In fact, the sense of nostalgia her mention of Sokovia brought was paired with a slight smile.
Wanda was surprised when Natasha grabbed her hand and dragged her to her bed. Natasha climbed on top; then, she patted beside her to invite Wanda to sit on it as well. As the second girl jumped and settled into her position on the other girl's bed, the two found themselves sitting less than a foot away from each other.
"Did you like it there?" The redhead inquired.
Wanda sat with the question for a moment before replying, "Despite the hard parts, I loved every minute."
Her response resulted in a shared smile between the two. With a loaded history of her own, Natasha understood and could sympathize with the sentiment that the Sokovian had expressed. "Why did you move to the States?"
