Agatha all along one shots

Old Wounds and New Faces

The warm glow of the fireplace flickered through Agatha's study, casting long, dancing shadows along the walls. Teen lounged on the old leather couch, flipping lazily through a book, but his attention wasn't on the words. His gaze kept drifting toward Agatha, who was perched by the window, staring out into the night with a deep frown on her face.

It had been that way for the past few days—ever since Rio had reappeared in their lives. Agatha was more distant, more closed off than usual, if that was even possible. And if Teen knew anything, it was that Agatha wasn't exactly the kind of person who liked to open up about her feelings.

But he wasn't one to let things go, especially when something felt off. And right now, Agatha was radiating a kind of tension that had him on edge.

"So," Teen began, trying to keep his tone casual, "you gonna tell me about her, or do I have to keep guessing?"

Agatha's eyes flicked toward him, sharp as ever, but she didn't respond. She just narrowed her gaze, clearly not in the mood for whatever he was about to bring up.

But Teen wasn't one to be easily deterred. He tossed the book aside and sat up, leaning forward with a smirk. "You know who I'm talking about. The crazy hot lady who showed up last week. Rio, right?"

Agatha's jaw clenched, her fingers gripping the arm of her chair just a little too tightly. Teen knew he was on to something now.

"Come on, Agatha. It's not like I haven't noticed how you freeze up every time her name comes up. Or, you know, how you basically stalked off whenever she tried talking to you."

Agatha's silence was telling, but Teen wasn't one to give up. He leaned back, crossing his arms as he gave her a knowing look. "Look, I get it. I mean, she's got that whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. And she definitely has that vibe of someone you had... a history with. Just saying."

Agatha finally moved, turning slowly to face him. Her eyes were sharp, a warning in their depths, but Teen just raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down.

"I'm not interested in your assumptions, Teen," Agatha said coolly, her voice tight. "You don't know anything about her. Or me."

He grinned. "That's why I'm asking, isn't it? You've got that whole 'closed-off witch with a dark past' thing down, but come on. It's pretty obvious there's something there. The way she looks at you? Yeah, there's a story. And it's gotta be a good one."

Agatha rolled her eyes, turning back toward the window. "Drop it."

Teen let out an exaggerated sigh, stretching his arms over his head. "Fine, fine. I'll drop it. But, I mean, it's not like it's that hard to figure out. Rio seems like the type to leave a trail of broken hearts behind her. Yours included, right?"

Agatha's fingers twitched, and Teen swore he saw a flicker of something—a crack in that icy demeanor. But she still didn't say anything. He was getting closer, though, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

"Okay, okay," Teen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "You don't have to tell me. But I'm just saying, whatever went down between you two? It's eating at you. And you're way too stubborn to admit it."

Agatha's silence stretched on, and for a moment, Teen thought she wasn't going to say anything at all. But then she let out a slow, measured breath, her shoulders tense.

"Rio is... complicated," Agatha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Teen's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected her to actually respond, let alone with something so honest. He sat up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

"Complicated how?" he pressed, though he tried to keep his tone gentle.

Agatha's eyes flicked toward him, guarded but less harsh than before. She didn't answer immediately, as if weighing her words carefully. "We have a past. That's all."

Teen waited for more, but it became clear that was all she was willing to give. Still, it was more than he'd expected, and he wasn't about to push her too hard.

"A past, huh?" He nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. "Guess that explains why you've been acting so weird since she showed up."

Agatha shot him a warning look, but it lacked its usual bite. Teen could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way the weight of her history with Rio seemed to hang over her like a storm cloud.

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, his voice softening. "You know... you don't have to keep everything bottled up, right? I mean, I get that you're the all-powerful, no-nonsense witch and all, but... you're still human. Sort of. You don't have to carry everything alone."

Agatha's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze dropping to the floor. Teen could tell she was fighting some internal battle, struggling with the walls she had spent so many years building around herself.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Teen," she muttered, though there was a weariness to her voice that hadn't been there before.

He shrugged. "Maybe not. But I do know that you're hurting. And I'm guessing Rio has a lot to do with that."

Agatha didn't respond right away, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. She seemed lost in thought, as if debating whether or not to let him in.

Teen decided to take a chance. "Look, I'm not saying you have to spill your guts or anything. But whatever happened between you and Rio? It's still messing with you. And maybe—just maybe—talking about it might help."

Agatha's eyes lifted, meeting his for a brief moment. There was a flicker of something vulnerable there, something raw, but it vanished just as quickly.

"I don't open up to people," she said quietly, her tone almost resigned.

Teen gave her a small, understanding smile. "Yeah, I figured that much. But maybe you should try it. Just this once."

Agatha's gaze lingered on him, the weight of her past pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. She didn't say anything, but the tension in the room seemed to shift, just a little. The walls around her weren't quite as impenetrable as they had been before.

"Maybe," she finally whispered, the word so soft it was barely audible.

Teen leaned back, satisfied that he had at least nudged her in the right direction. He knew better than to push any further right now. Agatha wasn't the type to pour out her soul in one sitting. But maybe, with time, she'd start to let some of that pain go.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd let him in.

For now, though, it was enough to know that she wasn't as invincible as she pretended to be.