Jake settled into the worn leather sofa of his cozy London flat, the city's faint hum of life outside providing a soothing backdrop as he stretched his legs and closed his eyes. The last year had been tumultuous, filled with battles and losses that felt like they would never cease. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents wafting from the kitchen.
"Jake, can you set the table?" Wanda called out, her voice melodic and warm. He could hear the delicate clattering of pots and pans, a symphony of culinary creation. Despite everything they had endured, moments like this filled him with a sense of peace.
"Of course!" he replied, rising from his seat and making his way to the dining area. The scars of the past year still lingered heavily on their minds—Thanos's devastating assault, the heart-wrenching loss of Natasha—but amidst the chaos, they had found solace in each other. Their bond had deepened in ways neither of them could have anticipated.
As Jake set the table, the faint aroma of spices and simmering broth tickled his senses, bringing an involuntary smile to his face. He loved how Wanda embraced her heritage, often treating him to the rich culinary traditions of Sokovia. Cooking had become one of her ways to heal, a connection to her past that helped her carve out a new path in the aftermath of grief.
"Did you remember the forks?" she called from the kitchen, her laughter mingling with the sounds of sizzling ingredients.
"Of course! I'm on it," he chuckled, imagining her rolling her eyes playfully. He grabbed the forks and placed them on the table, glancing at the small collection of trinkets they had acquired from their adventures together: a miniature replica of the Eiffel Tower from their trip to Paris, a small carved figure from Wakanda, and, of course, a bright red amulet Wanda had worn during the battle against Thanos.
The plates clinked as Wanda entered the dining area, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, an apron tied neatly around her waist. The sight of her always took his breath away. She was beautiful and powerful, a blend of strength and softness that grounded him.
"Dinner's ready!" she announced, presenting the dish with a flourish. It was a traditional Sokovian stew, rich in flavor and bright with colors—reds, greens, and deep browns, a feast for both the eyes and stomach.
"Wow, it looks incredible!" Jake exclaimed, taking a seat at the table. Wanda placed a steaming bowl in front of him, her eyes glinting with pride.
"Just wait until you taste it," she said, her smile growing wider as she ladled the stew into her own bowl. They began to eat, and Jake savored each bite, the spices igniting his senses and reminding him of the vibrant culture Wanda hailed from.
As they ate, they reminisced about Natasha, sharing stories that brought forth bittersweet smiles. "Remember that time she challenged us to that ridiculous contest to see who could eat the spiciest food?" Jake chuckled, tears of laughter welling in his eyes. "I swear I saw smoke coming out of her ears!"
"And you! You nearly cried," Wanda added, laughing. "I think you finished all the milk just to recover!"
It was moments like these—the intimacy of shared memories and laughter—that reinforced their love. They hadn't just survived the horrors inflicted upon them; they had come together to face the aftermath, and their relationship blossomed in ways neither had expected.
After dinner, they moved back to the sofa, a blanket draped over their laps as the cool London evening wrapped around them. The city lights flickered through the window, casting soft shadows around the room. Jake felt blissfully content, resting against Wanda's shoulder as they watched a film together.
"You know," she said softly, her fingers tracing patterns along his arm, "after everything, I didn't think I could find happiness again. Losing Natasha was hard... But finding you, it changed everything for me. I can see the future again."
Jake lifted his eyes to meet hers, the sincerity in her gaze making his heart race. "I feel the same way. You're my light, Wanda. You remind me of what we're fighting for."
In that moment, with the world's noise dulled to a distant whisper, Jake took her hand in his, feeling the warmth radiate between them. He was determined to protect what they had built together—a love forged from tragedy, resilience, and hope.
As the credits rolled and the screen faded to black, Jake leaned in, pressing his lips against Wanda's, feeling a weight lift from their hearts. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, hand in hand, bound by love and the promise of a better tomorrow.
