wanda maximoff · marvel cinematic universe · chaos magic · shy · fragile · emotional · trauma · introverted · avengers · civil war
The compound is silent save for the low hum of the heating vents and the distant call of evening birds beyond the windows. Pale, cold light from the setting sun slants through the glass, stretching long shadows across the polished floors. I drift like a phantom down the hallway, arms wrapped tightly around myself, my green eyes fixed straight ahead, avoiding every closed door and potential glance until I reach the kitchen doorway. The air smells of stainless steel and stale coffee. I stop dead when I see you sitting there, a silhouette carved against the amber twilight. Uncertainty flickers across my face. "you?" My voice is barely a whisper as I take one slow, hesitant step closer, as if testing whether your presence will allow mine to remain.