Pure Heroine - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Buzzcut Season

The road was silent. Not the comfortable kind like the hundreds of road trips before it, when you and Wanda were kids and fell asleep in the back seat after playing on the beach all day. No, it was the kind of tense silence, almost enough to make Wanda want to get out of the car and walk all the way across the state.

You sighed softly in the seat, and Wanda gripped the steering wheel, expecting an argument to break out. Instead, more silence came. She risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror and felt her shoulders relax as she realized that you had fallen asleep.

Nobody stays angry after a good nap, her mother used to say.

So Wanda remained quiet, the whole way back to campus she spent rehashing everything that had gone wrong the previous morning, and her guilt about the whole thing didn't let up. It was she who gradually turned all the excitement of a weekend at the beach with her best friend into anger and frustration after a whole semester of not being able to breathe properly outside of assignments and exams.

She was the one who started acting strange from the moment you mentioned the girl who asked for your number in calculus class, who left you alone with the drinks when the bar attendant flirted with you, and who disappeared for a long moment after girls in bikinis tried to get your Instagram back at the sand.

Wanda couldn't explain her peaks of jealousy without exposing her true feelings, and Saturday ended like your patience without an explanation.

Now you were distant and hurt, and she was considering getting out of the car.

When you woke up, the university was already in sight. Wanda didn't blame you for staying quiet when you parked, or for not trying to start any conversation on the way to the dorm, backpacks slung over your shoulders.

Wanda needed a long shower, to relax her muscles and clean the sand properly. But you threw yourself on the bed when the backpack hit the floor, and the figure with a face sunk into the mattress made her close the door to the dormitory you two had shared for the last six months and counting.

"Can we talk?" Wanda risked and waited until the silence turned into a sad laugh.

You turned your face on the bed but didn't adjust your body towards her, remaining lying down. "Are we going to talk, or are you going to shout at me again?"

"I didn't shout..."

It makes you sit up with indignation. "Yes, you did." You interrupted her, your expression serious and hurt. Wanda almost shuddered, she didn't know how to handle this look on you. When did you two ever have a serious fight in all those years of friendship? She honestly couldn't remember. "Not just today, by the way. Last week, with Darcy and Monica, you practically insulted me out of the game. I thought you were being a sore loser, and I let it slide, but now... damn it, this has been going on for a long time, Wanda." You snap. "I don't know what's going on with you. You don't seem to want to be around me anymore. I don't..." You sigh, and Wanda swallows dryly, taking a step forward.

"It's not like that." She mutters, not meeting your gaze, and you sniffle slightly, standing up.

"This is about the dorm, isn't it?" You ask, not giving her time to understand what you mean. "It happened to Steve too, when he and Bucky started sharing a room. It's just, a lot. It's different when you live with your friend, with all the other person's quirks and differences... I understand if you're tired of me. I could ask for a switch."

Wanda immediately shakes her head, confusion turning to indignation. "What the fuck are you talking about? I don't want you to move out."

But you chuckle sadly, wiping a hand across your face. "I honestly don't know what you want any more, Wanda." You retort, upset. "You're distant and mean. You can't seem to stand being around me most of the time, only to climb into my bed at night wanting to cuddle. Then you ignore me the next day. I just... It's exhausting. If you want to tell me to fuck off, give you more space, just do it. Stop this rollercoaster. It hurts me."

Wanda considers your words, unable to detach herself from the truth behind them. The way she has been treating you, and hurting you almost on purpose. That's how selfish she could be - the lack of reciprocity hurt her, and if Wanda couldn't make you feel the same, at least she could hurt you too.

And acknowledging that to herself made her sick.

You sighed at her silence and approached only to go around her and open the door. With your hand still on the doorknob, you looked at her from the shoulder.

"Tell me what you want when you're ready, Wanda." You asked gently. "We're not like Bucky and Steve. We'll make it work. We always do."

Wanda turned around, but you had already left the room.

She'd like to say that she ran after you. Or at least called. That she found you the next day, apologized and you talked for hours in your favorite place.

But she did the opposite of all that.

Wanda called people, but people who didn't get along with you. She got new clothes, new friends, new drugs. She learned how to really party, the kind that puts out anything she wants with alcohol, for as many hours as her body can take.

And every time you tried to reach her, she pushed you away until you got tired of trying.

Her father called her, wanting to find out why she was missing family lunches. He also asked about you.

Wanda lied that everything was fine and stopped answering her phone.

And every time her brain insisted on thinking about you, she found someone to drag the memory away.

Soon, you also stopped viewing her posts.