Escaping Maximoff

Killing Me Softly With His Song

Wanda's scarf felt soft in my hands; the silky material eased my worries as my fingers played with the frayed edges. It smelt like vanilla, a scent I'd learned came with the redhead. I sighed and laid the crimson fabric on the bed beside me. I felt indebted to her, despite Wanda's assurance that the act deserved no kind of repayment. I just wanted her to know how much I appreciated her risking everything for me.

A small part of me resented the fact that I'd started to enjoy her company, especially with the whole Westview incident still playing on my mind, leaving me uncertain about fully trusting her. Still, I knew that she probably wouldn't want to talk about it with me, and I respected her decision to move on, even if her past worried me. Wanda had protected me. When no one else was there to save me, she had. That was something indisputable, a realisation that spurred me to grab my bag and head down to the market. I wanted to get Maximoff a proper thank-you, even if she felt she didn't deserve one.

The walk to her house was brisk, and before I knew it, I was standing outside with a bouquet of flowers in hand. I took a short breath to pump myself up before knocking gently on the faded blue door. It swung open almost instantly; the woman had clearly felt my presence long before I had knocked.

"Hi," I greeted Wanda, holding the gift out. A shy smile appeared on my face as she realised the present was for her. Her expression was aghast, yet her eyes met mine with nothing but appreciation. "Before you say anything, I just want you to know that this isn't me thanking you," I said sarcastically, aware that she might protest if she thought I was being too serious. Wanda chuckled and accepted the mix of red and white flowers, shaking her head slightly at the gesture.

"You didn't have to."

"I know, I wanted to." I assured her, praying my eyes would convey just how grateful I was of her.

She bit her lip and sighed, holding the door open so I could come inside. I muttered a small thanks as I walked past, with her closing the door behind me.

I had grown to like Wanda's house; the more time I spent there, the safer it felt. It radiated a kind of calming aura, thanks to the sunlight streaming through the long windows and the array of plants that were scattered throughout. The welcoming aroma of vanilla and cinnamon that filled the air only made the place more inviting.

I followed Wanda into the kitchen where she put the flowers in a vase on the counter. "Would you like some tea?" She asked, turning to face me once she had arranged the flora to her liking.

I nodded, accepting her offer with a warm smile. "Sure."

As she busied herself with the tea, the room filled with a mixed aroma of sweet petals and earthy brewed leaves, complimented by a hint of citrus. When the drink was ready, she brought two cups over to the table and sat across from me. I wasn't an avid tea drinker but I was definitely a fan of Wanda's; it left a warm feeling in my stomach and an aftertaste of lemon, which I very much enjoyed.

"Y/n," Wanda caught my attention. I placed the cup down and met her eyes, humming to show I was listening. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"Is something wrong?" I asked gently, reaching across the table to touch her hand. She flinched a little at the contact, caught off guard by my action, but it seemed to give her the courage to speak.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Taken aback by the question, I tilted my head in curiosity. It would be wrong to say that Maximoff's enigma wasn't a little bit intimidating, but I definitely wasn't scared of her – not anymore. The pit I had felt in my stomach when I first saw her had turned to hope. She was unlike anyone I had ever met; more worn, more real, but also more caring than people realised. I felt honoured to be among the few who understood that about her, even as she tried to hide behind a strong facade. I was desperate to uncover more about her, to learn who the real Wanda Maximoff was without the lies told by the news.

"I'm not afraid of you, Wanda," I said, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it so she knew I was being honest. Feeling the firm grip of her hand on mine, I realised that it might be the first time someone had touched her in a while. For that reason, I didn't let go. "Besides, I think your powers are pretty cool," I added with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. A sense of achievement blossomed in my chest when a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Witchy. I was just telling the truth," I echoed her words from the day before, a smirk spreading across my face at her raised eyebrows.

"Witchy?" She let go of my hand and crossed her arms, feigning indignation.

"Yep."

Wanda shook her head, letting out a sound that was part laugh, part scoff. In an attempt to avoid stroking my ego, she took a moment to compose herself, thoughtfully sipping her tea.

"I think it's a great nickname," I muttered, bravely catching her gaze, a spark of mischief in my eyes.

"Of course you would," she retorted, kicking my foot under the table.

Feeling a notification from my phone, I glanced at it and let out a sigh when I realised it was Sam asking where I was. I picked up my bag and stood up, signalling that it was time to leave. "I have to go to school," I announced with a groan, ignoring every fibre in my body that screamed at me to stay with the redhead. Wanda nodded in understanding and walked me to the door.

"See you later, Grumpy." She called out with a warm smile. I couldn't help but roll my eyes – grumpy was the last thing I felt when I was around her.