ᵉˣⁱᵗ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ▸ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 ✓

nine.

EXIT WOUNDS.
009. | ❛ i hate that name. ❜

THE TEAM HAD NO TIME TO LOSE, AND DEFINITELY NO TIME TO ARGUE WITH MILA ON HER ACCOMPANYING THEM TO WAKANDA. SURELY, HER PROTESTS WERE HEARD BY THE AVENGERS; BUT TONY SAW HER ABILITY AS AN ADVANTAGE TO TAKE DOWN ULTRON BEFORE IT TURNED WORSE. Nervously, she sat next to Steve on the so called Quinjet. Her leg spurted up and down rapidly that it could put some in a trance if looked at for so long. Her eyes were focused on the ground, not for a split second looking somewhere else.

Mila hadn't ever been in a plane with such velocity; correction, she's never actually been on a plane before. A small part of her was happy that she wasn't puking at the given moment. Her hands trembled against her shaking legs, and with some air turbulence that made Mila grab onto the nearest thing that would stabilize her; that being Steve and Bruce who were right next to her. Latching and hooking her hands around them, squeezing them tighter if any other disturbance hit the jet.

"So I can take it that you've never flown before?" Steve asked the trembling girl, who took it upon her to close her eyes until they arrived at their destination. Mila nodded at her response feeling that if she did speak, the only thing that would come out would be puke; and she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of the only people that can help her, because she knew that they would hold it against her.

"Mila, can you loosen your grip on my arm? I'm losing blood circulation in my left arm." Bruce informed her and she quickly let her arm slip out of his. There was a melancholy look on his face at the sign of her withdrawal of human touch. His comment didn't intend for her to detach herself completely. With her arm brushed up against his, not only did she feel safe but he did as well.

"Steve, when are we—" Mila cut herself off at the sign of air turbulence again, this time gripping with all her force on the soldier's arm. Steve simply patted her back, trying to calm her down the best he could; he couldn't turn her away because for a weird feeling, he felt that Mila had a similar story to his and sympathetic in her clause.

"We're almost there, Mila." He brushed her hair back and quietly whispered in her ear, "Don't worry,  you won't be in any danger."

Mila looked into his eyes and saw the truth in his words, but life had taught her that most things didn't go her way. She nodded slightly before turning back to face the one man that had isolated himself once again in the far off corner.

She felt a sudden urge to go to Bruce, a man who had been so welcoming to her and interested and invested in her story. Her fear kept her from taking the steps necessary to reach him, but she remembered where there was fear there was courage. Mila took a deep breath and placing her hand over her heart, before taking off from the adrenaline that was rushing within her. Walking carefully towards him, she looked like Bambi learning to walk for the first time or a trapeze artist on the high line; whatever she looked like, she knew that slow wins the race. With each step towards him, Mila gained more confidence in her walk and for a solid moment she thought that she'd make it.

A small tilt in the plane caused Mila to lose her balance, and she waited for the metal floor to hit her butt yet it never came. She was instead met with a soft cushion of skin, more precisely Bruce's. His hands snaked around her waist, grabbing her tight and keeping her in place. Mila didn't want to say anything for she missed the physical human interaction, and she wish that she could've stayed in that position longer if it wasn't for the eyes that were placed on them.