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a/n : not gonna lie, kinda hate wanda vision for making me attracted to vision lol. like I think pietro would HATE his and wanda's  relationship so much

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SPENCER WAKES UP IN A SWEAT THE NEXT MORNING.

No, she doesn't. She should. She should wake up screaming and yelling with needles poking her and painkillers wearing off. She should be waking up to the smell of rust and mold. To the sound of screaming and fighting and Russian words.

She doesn't do any of that. She's not even sure she's really awake when turns her head to the rest of the cabin and sees Pietro at the stove, back to her.

First of all, it's really, really stupid of him to put his back to her. Like, a total weak spot right there? Spencer could stab or shoot and he wouldn't even-

"Stop thinking about killing me," Pietro said, suddenly, and Spencer blinks as he turns his head a little, just enough to assure Spencer it's really him. "Come here."

Spencer does not move. Her head's doing that thing again, where it reels through film strips like memories, that are faded in visuals and stinging in her head.

She finally shuffles out from under a blanket she doesn't remember grabbing. They didn't have blankets back at the facility. They also didn't have any food that smelled as good as what Pietro was making.

She can see moments like this. He's back, the smells, the... warmth. She can almost feel deja vu here, and it terrifies her.

"Did we used to live together?" she asks after a moment.

Pietro's head turns. Not fully. His eyes skim her body before meeting her eyes for a fleeting moment.

His focus is back on the food.

"Sit down," he tells her. "Food first. Questions later."

Spencer's too tired or too hungry to argue, so she slips into the seat. She eyes the fork sitting in front of her, aside from the plate. He must have put it there for her.

"Have it, if you want," Pietro tells her. "Just don't kill me."

Spencer pauses, still eyeing the fork. "You trust me."

"I do," Pietro admits, coming to the table with a plate of eggs to set down. "Plus, I think you are still afraid of blood. You would stab me maybe once before puking."

Spencer's eyes narrow at the man as he slips into his seat, pleased with his comments. She gets that he knew her before...all of whatever, but she doesn't like that he knows that.

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨  ➪ 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 (2)Where stories live. Discover now