Home ¥ Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch

{Ch. 6} Parker

I followed Wanda, copying her when she sat down by the bar. "How long have you been here?" She asked, running a hand through her red hair. I found myself mimicking her actions for whatever reason, feeling completely drawn in by everything she was.

"Only like half an hour." I replied, noticing how light my body felt. The room wasn't quite spinning or anything along those lines, but I felt weightless and confident. Not to mention everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. My dad's serum may have been passed down through my blood, but I was still very much a lightweight.

"And you're already drunk?" She giggled, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. My eyebrows furrowed, a playful smile etched onto my features. God, she's beautiful.

"I am not drunk." I told her, unsure as to whether or not I was actually being honest. I didn't feel necessarily drunk, but I definitely felt something. It could have been anything, really.

"And I'm not a twin." She replied, sarcastically. I laughed at her playfulness, hiccuping mid-giggle and then turning red with embarrassment right after. For whatever reason, the action caused her to smile.

She shook her head, looking towards the bar and ordering herself a drink. She asked if I wanted anything, but I shook my head no. Normal alcohol wouldn't make a difference and it's not like I needed to get anymore tipsy than I already was.

"What took you so long?" I blurted out, sliding my hand up and down the part of my leg that was revealed by the slit in my dress. Her eyes moved down, seeming to train themselves on my hand.

"What do you mean?" She asked, licking her lips and meeting my eyes for a second, only to look back down to my leg. I wondered if I was revealing something by accident and crossed one of my legs over the other. Her eyes snapped up and she gave me an almost apologetic look, though I didn't understand what for.

"We left to get ready at the same time. What took you so long to get here?" I questioned, rather bluntly. I didn't know if I was saying something wrong here, but her face told me it was okay.

"I just got a little nervous." She shrugged, turning to grab her drink and avoiding making eye contact with me. I assumed it was some kind of anxious habit. My eyes squinted slightly, as I watched her.

"What about?" I asked, hoping I wasn't making her uncomfortable with all my questions. I just wanted to get to know her better and I prayed she knew that. The last thing I wanted to do was get on her nerves or make her hate me.

She hesitated, but replied, finally looking up to meet my eyes. "Like I told you before, I don't really fit in here as much as most. I worry a lot." She explained, chuckling at the end of her sentence. Another thing I assumed was a nervous habit. She had a lot of those.

"Are you nervous now?" I found myself asking, realising the alcohol was giving me the confidence to ask all these questions of I'd never dream of blurting out otherwise. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling and unknowingly bringing me comfort.

"I guess." She admitted, pulling her drink into her hands and taking a sip. It seemed she liked distractions when she felt nervous. That was something I could definitely understand.

For a second, I thought about offering to use my abilities to help her feel better. I knew, however, it would probably be overstepping our relationship and I didn't want to push anything. I'd always been taught to keep my gifts to myself unless I needed to.

"You're nervous too." She randomly pointed out, snapping me out of my thoughts and causing me to tilt my head in confusion. "I can feel it." She explained as if that was a sufficient response. In a way, it was.