Wanda had been standing in the doorway.
The room was dark.
Not pitch black, but a hazy grey.
The only light was what little had managed to seep through the barely open blinds, spilling a pale, fragmented yellow over the floor.
It took every bit of her own resistance to keep from running to Natasha when she fell.
She knew she'd get up.
Every raw breath Natasha took ripped a piece from her heart.
She started hitting the bag again.
Slower, heavier blows.
Wanda silently crossed the room to her, timing the split second to wrap her arms around her so that she wouldn't get hit.
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Nat felt her heart jump into her throat.
She had been mere milliseconds away from pulling a knife on whoever had snuck up on her when a familiar soft giggle broke the devastatingly heavy silence.
She turned around slowly, trying to keep the euphoric feeling down until she knew it was true.
She found herself half a centimeter away from Wanda Maximoff's perfect nose.
A grin spread across her face.
"Wanda!" She threw her arms around her neck and buried her face in the crook.
"Hi Tasha."
"You're back! You're okay! Wait, are you okay? God, I missed you."
She laughed, "I missed you too, Tasha. I- I'm fine. I am now anyway. How about you? Have you been taking care of yourself?"
Nat nodded, "I'm always fine. Are you telling me the truth, Maximoff?"
That garnered a small smile from the other girl, "I told you I am, now anyway. Let me see your hands."
Nat was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that covered all the way up to her palms. She reluctantly surrendered her hands to Wanda, lowering her gaze.
