Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 55

The witch's mouth opens in a silent gasp as she's realising what is going on as she's slipping further away from sleep's grasp. The lone droplet of ruby blood slowly trickles down her throat, leaving behind it a rosy trail before coming to rest between her collarbones where it trembles slightly as she breathes shallowly against the sharp blade. Her body has gone completely still, like an antelope that has heard a twig snap but isn't sure if it should flee for its life. Not that she could flee. She's hooked up to her IV drop and the heart monitor if my scalpel pressing against her throat wasn't enough. I just cannot let her use her magic.

Maximoff's eyes are wide, no trace of drowsiness present although she was sleeping soundly just a mere blink of an eye ago. She slowly makes eye contact with me, and I hesitate just the slightest as my eyes meet hers. I expect to be met with orbs of fear, but there's no fear in to be found. Why is there no fear? She should be terrified for her life. Instead, they're calm, and most confusingly, accepting. Accepting of what, exactly, I wonder. Of her fate? Surely not. Of my actions? Again, doubtful.

She doesn't make any indication of moving despite me just having told her so. I bite the inside of my cheek in an anxious tick. I need to get her to move, and quick, before the alarm is raised and they find me gone, or before her doctor or anyone comes to check on her.

"Don't worry. It's just you, and me." She whispers with a croaky voice, emphasizing the words 'you' and 'me'.

"That's exactly why you should worry." I retort, beginning to feel more and more useless with the blade against her throat which she clearly doesn't mind very much.

"I'm not worried, I know you." Her cracked lips raise in a very small smile.

I'm slightly taken aback by her statement which she said so confidently as if she is willing her confidence upon me as well. It doesn't work, as I just feel confused.

Clear your head.

"Shut up." I try to push the tiredness out of my voice and instill it with confidence instead, the Winter Soldier's parting wisdom on my mind. I can instantly read on her face that my charade doesn't quite work and that she is aware of the confusion swirling around in me, whether she needs to use her powers on me or not to tell I don't know.

"Livvy, you can't hurt me." She places her left hand softly on top of my hand which is holding the knife against her throat and her thumb brushes against my skin lightly. She doesn't even try to push my hand away. She just holds it there.

"Look at where I put you." I tell her as if she wasn't aware of lying in a hospital bed.

I try to ignore the slightly uncomfortable feeling at the intimate gesture of her thumb brushing against my hand and the feel of her skin on mine. I don't know if I'm just imagining the feeling of static electricity where her skin meets mine. I just want to pull my hand away, but I can't. My head flashes with memories of the chair and those familiar feelings it instilled in me are bubbling up slowly inside of me, clamoring up my throat, ready to spill.

"That wasn't you." Maximoff tries to convince me, her voice calm and certain.

How she can be so sure of knowing who I am I don't know, when not even I know who I am, not really. I let out a shaky breath, my head pounding as though I am back on the chair. I'm not. I'm not. I still expect the current of blinding electricity to race through me at any second. I don't notice the way my hand has begun to shake slightly under Maximoff's and the way my breathing has become shallower.

"Your name is Olivia. The first time you saw me you shot me." Maximoff tells me softly with that tiny smile playing on her face again as she reminisces about something I don't recognize, which makes me feel even more on the precipice of an anxiety attack.