o. 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖
❛ but if you have a minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know ❜
previously titled cloud nine !
─ in which 𝐬𝐡𝐞 finds herself thrown into the bizarre world of the maximoff family ⋆.ೃ࿔*:...
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─── ❝the final chapter❞ ───
KAMILLE STOOD AT THE PEAK OF THE STAIRCASE, her feet shuffling mindlessly as she gazed around the Maximoff home. Her hands wrapped firmly around two mugs of her homemade hot chocolate and she gently lifted a finger that wrapped around the handle to inspect the small burn from the nights prior.
The dimly lit hallway was of a faint blue hue, muffled voices coming from the twins' bedroom a their parents bid them goodbye.
She almost felt close to tears, thinking about her redhead friend and what this would mean for her future as a hero.
Her grandmother would be with Monica in the town centre, most likely, Ralph probably having taken the first chance to run from the town and his crazy posing wife.
Kamille herself would do the same, of course, resolving to call Cyprien as soon as she got the chance.
There was a shuffle footsteps before tufts of ginger and plates of red were emerging, expressions of grief etched upon the face of the former, the latter laying on her a concerned arm.
Wanda's smile was a sorrow stretch of skin across her face and tears glistened in her eyes as her husband's hand drifted circles across her forearm. Vision spared Kamille a warm glance before removing this gesture and slipping past her, leaving the two women alone in the corridor.
"Of course, dear; and have them brush their teeth after." The redhead signaled lightly to the mugs in the younger woman's grip, inciting a small nod.
"Wanda," Kami muttered as the woman turned. "Call me, okay? Doesn't matter for what, just-" Wanda placed a hand on her arm as she spoke and the younger woman trailed off.
Wanda couldn't seem to find the words; she smiled drifting away without a response.
Kamille swallowed and inhaled sharply before lifting her feet in a small jump; one that had absolutely no purpose whatsoever but she felt as though a movement was required to get her going, and she allowed herself to walk carefully with the mugs into the children's room.
