Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 44

I wake up with a slight jolt, feeling like someone just slapped me awake. It takes a second for me to orient myself, my eyes struggling to gain focus in the shadowy room. Then I remember where I am and I relax. I turn my head to the side. Wanda's sleeping on her side, facing me, her hands lying still in between us. I watch her sleep for a moment, letting my heart rate fall. I wonder what she's dreaming about. Her eyelids move ever so slightly, otherwise, she's completely still, looking totally relaxed. Goddamn it; even this darkness suits her, her porcelain skin smooth in the lack of light, her freckles barely visible. I resist the urge to cuddle up against her and wake her up. She needs her sleep, I remind myself. Instead, I carefully push the suffocating covers off me and silently leave the bed. I turn and look at Wanda to make sure I haven't woken her up. She frowns slightly in her sleep, her right hand twitching slightly, but then she settles and her face goes smooth again. Her lips part and she sighs. I again resist the urge to get as close to her as I possibly can and tiptoe to the door, grabbing the cold handle and opening it with a soft click. I feel steady on my feet, so decide to get down to the kitchen to make some tea, hoping to soothe my throat which feels scratchy. I leave the door to our room slightly ajar, wanting to make the least amount of noise I can.

I easily remember the route to the kitchen from my last visit. The Tower is plunged in darkness and no one is in sight. The floor is cold under my bare feet, but it feels rather nice as I feel like I am burning up. I somehow still manage to shiver, wearing only some oversized shirt and shorts Wanda found in the closet.

The kitchen is bathed in a dim orange glow from the lights of the city outside, the huge window letting the light in nicely. I catch my pale reflection in the mirror, looking away quickly, not wanting to see myself looking most probably awful. Instead, I walk towards the kitchen which I remember always being completely stocked to the brim with anything you could think of. I try to think of some food I could eat, but the thought of it makes me feel slightly ill, so I abandon the thought and instead go to prepare the tea. The water comes to a quick boil in Stark's kettle and I find some honey which I apply a generous amount of into the swiveling water. I grab the mug and walk towards the window, thinking I can at least entertain myself with watching New York. I lean against the cool window, resting my burning forehead against the cool material. I observe the occasional ant-sized car hundreds of meters below me as I absentmindedly lift the teabag from the string up and down.

"None for me?" A low, raspy voice asks and I jump slightly, surprised as a pair of arms sneak themselves around my waist and Wanda rests her head on my shoulder.

I must've been so deep in thought I didn't hear her approach. I look up, watching her reflection in the window. Her eyes meet mine.

"How are you feeling?" She whispers, her breath tickles my neck, making me shiver again.

"I thought you were asleep." I say, ignoring her question, not wanting to lie to her.

"Can't sleep without you, remember?" Her voice is soft and her arms tighten slightly around my waist. Jesus.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Not to me, remember?"

I chuckle softly, my heart feeling like it might burst into a thousand butterflies. I wonder if it's a side effect of whatever's wrong with me. Wanda hums in response, her chest vibrating against my back, making the butterflies go completely mad.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." I agree, looking out at the thousands of twinkling lights in the dark.

We fall into a comfortable silence, Wanda not pleasing me. I'm surprised at her closeness, but I don't comment on it. I instead find myself leaning back against her, my head coming to rest against hers on my shoulder. For once I'm thankful for not feeling great, as it makes my brain feel fuzzy and slow, and it's struggling to start overanalyzing every single little movement I feel Wanda make against me. My heart doesn't seem affected though, as it seems to believe I must be in the middle of running a race, beating furiously against my chest, so loud I am surprised Wanda cannot hear it.