WinterWitch: Twisted Hearts

Chapter one

always know her, better than anyone else. Pietro has always been so good at taking care of her, and she knows that if she lets him in now that she will tell him everything and she can't do that.

She needs time.

"What did you break? Was it important?"

"Does it matter? It can be fixed." Pietro huffs, irritated. "Please, hurry up, I need—"

"I'm in here." she sighs, forces her eyes open. "So you can't come in, okay?"

But he doesn't walk away yet.

"Wanda, please." Pietro whines. "Do I have to go outside?"

"Pietro, I'm not well. So please, go away."

It's quiet after, the city faraway and her brother silent.

She sounds different, doesn't sound like herself. Her voice is different, strained and quiet. Wanda sighs and waits for the moment to end. She waits for Pietro to walk away but he doesn't. For a moment, just the smallest moment, she thinks about letting him in. She almost does, but she quickly reminds herself that it's 3AM and she's too tired to talk about this. She just wants to clean herself up, crawl into bed, and let herself forget about all of this for a few hours.

"You're not well?" he asks, much softer now. "What's wrong? What can I do?"

"I'm fine, I just don't feel well." Wanda lies, brushing the hair out of her face. "Will you please leave? I'm sure Clint is done now. So please, go."

He still hovers by the door. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Wanda wants to tell him no, she's not okay, everything hurts and she's so tired. She wants to let him in, wants to let him help her clean up. She comes so close, too. She walks right up to the locked bathroom door, rests a hand on the door-handle, and almost twists it open, almost lets him in. She quickly lets go and leans against the door, pressing her damp forehead against it and breathing out quietly.

There's no sound, no creak or noise that lets Pietro know that she's standing there. But somehow, it feels like he knows. She thinks this might be why he waits around, why he doesn't rattle the door again or try to come inside. Pietro doesn't say anything at all, not until she does. She still wants him here but she decides that she has to do this alone and quickly takes a step away from the door.

"Trust me. I'm fine. Please go."

Half a beat passes before he steps away.

"Okay, okay. I'm leaving now." Pietro says, voice still gentle. "I'm in my room if you need me. Goodnight."

Then he walks away and she's alone with her thoughts again. Wanda waits by the door for a minute just to make sure that he's really gone. She can't let him see her like this, so she waits and leans back against the door, wondering if she would have let him in if he'd just stayed a little longer. She knows the truth though, that she would never have let him in tonight. He's gone now anyway and the moment is over so she lets it go.

Wanda's bedroom is dark when she steps out of the bathroom. There's a dim glow cast across the space, seeping in from the city lights and creating shadows on the walls. She moves quickly, locking her bedroom door and swapping her fluffy towel for a green robe behind her door. It's soft against her aching skin and feels nice. She tugs it on and walks to her bed, desperately needing something to calm her nerves.

There's a wooden table by her bed, a lucky find. Rusted and old but still beautiful. She keeps all of her favourite things locked inside it, all the little things she doesn't want anyone else to find. Her room is filled with her things now, but it didn't always feel like home, not at first. It was just a room, something to fill with pieces of her new life in New York. But it's so much more than that now, or it was, and it's not something she can share with many people, not even Pietro sometimes.