An Insight to a Similar Mind ~ 8

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Only minutes have elapsed. Tony has positioned Evangeline in what she can only characterize as an interrogation room on the same floor as the conference room. The wall to her left consists entirely of frosted windows for privacy, while the remaining walls are uniformly plain white. Seated on one of the two padded chairs in this room, there lies a reasonably sized table between them. Eva directs her focus to her hand, moving her digits deliberately to assess the pain. She winces only twice, deeming it not too severe in her opinion, as the presence of blood and a couple of cuts exaggerate the extent. Her attention shifts to a silhouette passing by the frosted window and the solitary door of the room. The door swings open, and Peter hurriedly enters, promptly closing it behind him.

"Je suis innocente," Eva pleads her innocence in jest, holding up her unharmed hand in a mock surrender. Peter folds his arms, conveying that this is not a humorous situation, and takes a step forward.

"Eva, stop now. This isn't funny," he reprimands her, to which she rolls her eyes and sinks into the chair with a sigh. "What were you thinking?" His voice is a bit louder this time as he moves towards the other chair, standing behind it with both hands on the back.

"Well, clearly I wasn't," she grumbles, folding her arms in turn, unable to provide a satisfactory answer.

"I don't understand what you were trying to do?" He gestures hastily to her hand, the one resting on top of her arm, not concealing the bloodstains on her skin. Her eyes flicker down, then back up to him. She maintains a stern expression but remains silent.

"Well?" He leans forward, his expression now mirroring hers, as he is determined to extract answers before Tony and the others decide to interrogate her further. Eva edges forward too,

"Peter, casse-toi, avant que je te fasse," she warns, indicating that if he doesn't leave right now, she will make him do so. Peter's brow raises as he doesn't quite understand what she is saying but senses the unpleasant tone in her voice. He begins to argue back just as Wanda walks in, holding a med kit. Peter steps back from the chair, allowing Wanda to take his place as she places the kit on the table. Eva watches on curiously.

"I'll be back after," Peter declares, heading towards the open door that Wanda left ajar as he prepares to leave. Wanda remains silent, taking a seat and opening the kit to get started.

"Please, don't rush," Eva utters sarcastically in response to Peter. His shoulders twitch in the only indication that he heard her. Wanda's eyes quickly flicker to Eva, surprised at her remark, but she keeps focused as Peter lets out an exasperated sigh and exits, closing the door behind him.

Wanda doesn't say a word as she extends her hand for Eva to place her injured one in so that Wanda can clean up the mess. Eva watches her carefully.

"I don't need medical attention. I will sort this once I leave," Eva asserts with a curt smile, to which Wanda huffs a laugh, finally looking directly at Eva.

"I doubt you are leaving any time soon. Not until you explain to us what you did up there," Wanda raises a brow and extends her hand again. This time, Eva gives in and lets Wanda take her injured hand.

As their hands touch, Wanda's eyes widen for the briefest of seconds, and she drops Eva's hand onto the table as if she were shocked herself. Wanda's powers accidentally granted her temporary access to Evangeline's mind. The Sokovian was unable to fully comprehend what she saw, but there was one image that was clear to her—an image she would recognize instantly. Wanda freezes, the fear emanating on her face fading as quickly as it appeared. Eva frowns, confused by this reaction.

"Something wrong?" Eva inquires.

Wanda slowly removes herself from the seat, leaving the unpacked medkit sprawled out on the table. "Wrong? No, nothing is wrong. I just forgot something," she smiles as she rambles on, attempting to head for the exit to inform the others of what she has just seen. Eva catches on and rises to her feet as well.

𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ~ Steve Rogers Where stories live. Discover now