Escaping Maximoff

Chiquitita

"You've never watched Mamma Mia?" I practically screamed at the redhead, my mouth hanging open comically as she chewed on a strawberry. Wanda had gotten up earlier than me to go make us breakfast in bed, something I could have only dreamed of having at my house. Mornings at the Barlowe household consisted of missing alarms, rushing to get dressed, and almost always forgetting to grab anything more than an apple or a Pop-Tart for breakfast.

"Nope," she replied, an amused grin on her face.

I huffed and shook my head; Wanda not knowing ABBA was simply unacceptable. At first I thought she might have been joking, but now it was clear that the woman was just uncultured. "And Sam thinks I've been living under a rock."

As soon as my Aunt Julie started taking care of me, she introduced me to the masterpiece that is Mamma Mia. Nothing made me as nostalgic as that film. Even with freezing winds and heavy snowfall battering the glass windows, the musical made it feel like summer had come early.

"What kind of stuff do you like to watch then?" I asked, eying her curiously.

"Mostly sitcoms," she replied nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just admitted to watching the most mind-numbing thing in the world. She was just as bad as old Mrs Edna.

"Are you sure you're not the one who got trapped in the ice?"

Wanda scoffed and stole a piece of fruit from my bowl. "Have you even watched any sitcoms?" She questioned, her tone teasing.

"Well, no. But that's for good reason," I said, defending my unarguably correct opinion.

She chuckled softly, picking up the TV remote. "Then I guess we'll have to change that." She concluded, the mischievous glint in her eyes now unmistakable.

"No way." I shook my head vigorously. "We have to watch Mamma Mia first!"

Wanda seemed reluctant, but after much persuasion, and even an attempted cover of 'Chiquitita' (which resulted in a lot of laughs from Maximoff), she finally agreed. My integrity was hanging by threads after all of the convincing, but it was totally worth it.

Wanda was hooked after the first song, quickly learning why I loved the film so much. We both laughed maniacally every time Julie Walters came on screen, our lips stuck in wide smiles. I even saw the redhead shed a tear during 'Slipping Through My Fingers,' something I teased her incessantly about later on, acting as if I didn't get through whole packets of tissues whenever I watched it alone. As the movie progressed, I shifted closer to Wanda, eventually resting my head in her lap as her fingers gently played with my hair. The warmth of the room contrasted massively with the storm swirling outside, the soft melodies overpowering the relentless thundering of ice against the glass pane.

"Okay, don't let this get to your head, but that was the best film I've ever watched," Wanda admitted. She paused her automatic action of stroking my hair to point a finger in my face, warning me not to make a snarky remark.

A giant grin tugged at my lips, and she poked at my sides when she saw I was going to say something. "Hey, s-stop," I choked out between giggles as I tried to wriggle away from the pokes. "I was just going to say–"

"I know exactly what you were going to say." Wanda raised her eyebrows, a playful hardness in her gaze. I gulped, still not used to the whole 'insanely powerful witch who can read your thoughts' thing. To me, she was just Wanda. I didn't even think about the fact that she could make gods kneel with just a twitch of her fingers as they traced soft shapes on my arm. It was hard to believe she could hurt me, or anyone for that matter. Her touch was so light, it was as if a breeze was grazing my skin.

"Do you think the storm is gonna end soon?" I asked, gazing up into her green orbs. Part of me hoped she'd say no, just so I could live in the bliss of staying with her longer.

"I think it might be slowing down," she replied, leaning forward to peer out the window. My heart dropped slightly at her words, but I tried not to show it.

"Can't you just use your powers to make it stop?"

She peered down at me with a quirked brow. "How exactly do you think my powers work?"

I shrugged. Sam had described them in a way that made my small brain hurt, so he'd always end up calling them wiggly-woos. The truth was, I had no idea what she was capable of, and maybe that was for the best. I knew that everyone else only saw Wanda as her abilities, and I didn't want to be like that.

"You, like, shoot red squiggles out of your hands," I said, laughing slightly at the bemused look on her face. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it pretty quickly, deciding it was better not to.

"Alright Stinky, I think it's time you go take a shower," she remarked, changing the subject as she ripped the covers off the bed and shifted so I was forced to move my head from her lap. I gave her an offended look, my hand coming up to my chest in shock.

"I do not smell!"

The redhead just laughed in response and left me to go get a towel, playfully holding her nose as she walked away. I shook my head, smiling, and turned back to gaze out the window, silently praying to Thor that the storm wouldn't end anytime soon.