Vermilion [Wanda Maximoff Imagines]

A Fool (Her Fool)

Words : ±4.1k

Summary : Wanda went to isolate herself, you showed up, and she decided to take another chance for herself to open up to the world.

Warning (s) : some sad, blood, near-death.

A/N : I liked this one better than the first LOL anyways Wanda deserves everything in the world :(<3

Part 2 of Easy Pretense.

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Wanda bought a house. It was far away from Westview, away from the people she'd done wrong, away from her mistakes, her past. She'd done well with staying away from people - they weren't the best to be around, as she discovered some of them could be a real bitch. Her place was 10 minutes away from the nearest town, and though people were sceptical and curious at first glance, they dropped the suspicions after two weeks. She accepted no visitors, except the occasional stray cats that wandered too far into the forest, the mailman who insisted on biking far to reach her, and.. well- and you.

The first visit, Wanda had completely shut down, cursing her neglect on keeping the lists in mind of ways you could find her. But after the fourth time you dropped by, she'd started to think that maybe she wanted to be found. It wasn't as bad as she thought; first, you didn't dive headfirst into listing her mistakes, didn't yell or accuse her of murders (which was the truth, her nightmares proved them so), didn't resort to violence physically, mentally or verbally. Of course, it would be unlike you to do otherwise, but Wanda couldn't find it in herself to expect anything better than your cold, hostile behavior.

You casually mentioned the Darkhold's destruction one day - failing to mention how you'd almost died - leaving her frozen like a deer in headlights, not nearly close enough in her healing (if you could call it that) to accept the loss so wholeheartedly. That would explain the fading of her blackened fingertips, the lessening of her headaches and horrific nightmares. She'd never talked about them, keeping them stacked away at the very bottom of her brain, along with your presence that had certainly helped with keeping her mind occupied and distracted. It was a wonder how you could bear to be near her, remembering the way she'd attacked you without second thoughts, advancing against you with intent as clear as the water in the lake on her front lawn - to kill. You were a mystery, one she'd had a pleasure of figuring out but now, she wasn't so sure she still did.

Weeks ago, both of you were putting up a front, ignoring the past that led to her downfall - both of your downfall, if your broken souls were of any indication. The aggravating itch of burying your feelings towards the other had burned away in a short time, and neither were daring enough to question it. Even though words exchanged were short, you knew there were no walls anymore; if one was to ask, the other would answer with utmost honesty.

You moved with ease around her house like it was your own, throwing remarks about things she should get from town; groceries, a tiny rack for knives, a vase of flowers, chocolates - they varied from important housewares to things you'd like to add yourself. Wanda didn't mind. It felt like you were almost back to the way it was before, sharing a home - you were leaving your prints behind, as if claiming the house to be yours as well - there was nothing the witch had wanted more, as it almost felt like everything was okay and she hadn't carried out a mass slaughter. Almost.

She owns a garden now, grew vegetables and fruits she thought you'd like - it ought to keep her occupied when you weren't around, and you liked to think the sun is good for her health. On weekends, you'd come extra early and drag her outside for a run that lasted two hours, making Wanda second guess her decision to agree with it. You brought her books every three days, asking for her thoughts throughout the week and recommended her more books in the process. Without the world at stake, Wanda found life to be more fun than she'd imagined; even without her imaginary family, it wasn't so bad. (She knew it was for your presence, but she wasn't going to admit it to you as easily. Or to herself.)