marvel oneshots

maximoff | endlessly ( a )

summary - you'll learn to like your coffee black, if it means forgetting the way her blood stained your hands.

word count - 0.6k

Everything was sticky. The checkered patterned floor, the marble table, the mahogany colored booth bench with deep rips in the stiff fabric. Everything reminded you of her.

It almost felt like blood between your fingers. The sticky residue brings you right back to that night on the battlefield with Wanda bleeding out in your arms. The single stream of crimson blood that dried a shade so similar to mahogany dripping from the side of her lips, the only color left on her ghostly white face. Her last words are a skipping record in your head, 'I love you endlessly'. Turns out, endlessly was only a short couple of years.

"Hey," A warm hand found yours across the table, startling you from your nightmare. Your endless nightmare. Always the same one. "You with me, Y/N?" Natasha asked kindly, worry pooling in her eyes and in the pull of her lips as she frowned over a paper menu. All she could do was watch you wither away before her, just like you had watched Wanda.

You nodded, swiping your sticky, shaky, sweaty palms over your thighs to rid them of the feeling of her blood caked into the soft indentations of your hands. Wanda loved tracing every groove in your skin, kissing every imperfection, every blemish and scar, loving on you at your complete rawest. You'd never be able to love every part of yourself as earnestly as she had. "Fine."

Natasha's eyes softened, her frown deepened, her heart clenched, but she didn't press. You'd only shut down more if she pressed, and you were already a shell of yourself in her presence.

"Sorry about the wait, we're busy today. Saturdays are crazy. Can I get you anything?" Your eyes settled on the coffee pot in her hands, and the world became silent around you. The feeling of hot blood escaped your consciousness, replaced with a feeling you'd give anything to have back.

"That's your fifth packet." Her accent was fading the longer she spent time in the city, attached to your side in fear of losing you like she had Pietro. In fear of losing herself in this new world. Her nose scrunched as she watched you tear open another, shaking the sugar packet until the last granular fell in. Your lips pulled into a grin, an expression of adoration in the soft blush on your cheeks.

"I like it sweet." You shrugged bashfully, hiding behind a strand of hair that fell into your face. Wanda watched you fondly, following your slow strokes of the spoon combining the sugar packets and creamer with the coffee.

For a second, you think she might come back at you with a pickup line, you love how those infiltrate her comebacks anytime the pair of you squabble, but today, she must be feeling secure in the sanctuary the two of you have built from ruins. "That's disgusting."

Your lips drop open, shock swimming in your eyes, you freeze before a laugh bubbles up in your chest and falls from your lips like a symphony. Wanda laughs along with you, the songs of your joy blending together so perfectly, it was in that moment you couldn't imagine another night without her.

With trembling hands, you picked up the cup of coffee, not a sugar packet or shot of creamer combined. Nothing but the coffee as itself. Nothing but bitter, almost watery, taste. If you couldn't be back with her, if you couldn't look across the table and watch her eyes crease in delight as you assembled a mountain of sugar packets, you didn't want it. You'd learn to like it back. You'd learn to erase yourself from her.