Vices & Virtues ✴ W.Maximoff ✓

⭐ V I V I A N ⭐

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Trade Mistakes | Chapter 16
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Vivian was currently laying on her kitchen floor, exhausted. After Wanda left she had lost it a little. After about an hour of yelling, cussing, and just overall going off on herself, Vivian had sat on the kitchen floor crying. After about another hour of that, she had just leaned over to lay on the floor. She had been like that for a while now and literally could not will herself to move. Even shifting to be more comfortable had felt like moving underneath a stack of bricks. Eventually she ended up laying sprawled out on her back.

Part of Vivian felt like she was overreacting, but the other, louder part says that this was okay. Wanda was the first girl that Vivian had actually cared about in a while. Vivian's romantic past was filled with bad grade school relationships and one night stands; she was glad to slow down and be with Wanda.

All Vivian wanted to do was be good to Wanda and protect her, be like a knight in shining armor. She certainly didn't do that by keeping secrets, and she certainly can't do that now as she lays numb and sweaty on the ground like a gross potato.

Vivian had been selfish, looking back on the argument from hours earlier. She had made it all about justifying her decision and getting defensive instead of explaining to Wanda. She had brushed everything off because she was okay with it, and that probably worried Wanda.

But she really wasn't okay with it. If she was okay with it, she wouldn't be trying to fix her hands. If she was okay with it, she wouldn't have cried when reliving everything. There's really no way to be okay with literally erasing a man from existence without talking about it with someone who understands.

Vivian's stomach growls loudly, and with a sudden burst of energy she gets up, shuffling over to the cabinet to get some cereal. She pours herself a bowl of dry Cheerios and sits at the island to eat.

Before she started dating Wanda, Vivian used have moments when she felt depressed. She knows something's wrong in her head, and she would never call it depression without proper diagnosis, but she felt pretty damn close.

Moving around was hard, being social was hard, even being on her phone was hard. She just felt so tired and angry with herself and the world, and her thoughts weren't exactly all rainbows and unicorns; it was more like semi-trucks and hospitals.

The only thing that she could do was lay in one spot and listen to sad and slightly screamy emo music, which seemed cliche. It didn't improve her mood, but it didn't make it worse either. She just wanted to know that other people were hurting too, not just her.

Those days sucked, but she never told anyone about it except Wanda once. She had told this girl that she was talking to in high school once, trusting that she wouldn't say anything, but the girl ended up telling all of her friends. That was when Vivian learned that girls could be dicks too.

Vivian was in one of those moods now, mindlessly pushing Cheerios into her mouth while tears that will never be shed push at the backs of her eyes. She had taken something beautiful from her life and shit all over it.

She couldn't even call her parents. Seeing them together filled Vivian with a weird mix of guilt, jealousy, and anger that was scary and toxic. While they were sipping wine and doing lord knows what in their bedroom, all Vivian could think about was Michael and how Vivian's father had, in a way, morphed into a weird version of himself and Michael. That was why as soon as she graduated, Vivian moved away from home.

Suddenly Vivian lashed out again, throwing her bowl of cereal across the kitchen. Thinking about her parents filled her with an overwhelming sense of anger because here she was again, being selfish. Her parents could be worried sick about her or even dying, but Vivian would never know because she cut them off to shut out her problems.

Vivian was shouting spells, trying to think of one that would do the most damage, break the most stuff, make something in her house feel as hurt and conflicted as she did. She eventually stopped when she felt sharp stinging in her hands.

Becoming aware of her surrounding, she dropped everything she was doing and checked her hands, fearing the worst. Turns out she was just clenching her fists too tight, and ended up breaking skin with her fingernails.

Not even bothering to clean the blood from her palms, Vivian sits back at the island and lays her head on the cool marble.

"Hoc reficere pulmentum." Vivian mumbles, and with a flick of her hand every broken and misplaced thing fixes itself and goes back to where it belongs.

She grabs her phone and unlocks it and opens up her music app, turning on her playlist and putting on her headphones.

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Vivian couldn't get to sleep. Moving to the bedroom was too much effort, so she dragged herself to the couch. She had closed her eyes an hour ago, but all she could think about was Wanda.

She wanted to believe that Wanda would come back, but she just wasn't sure. She had told Vivian that she needed to get her shit together first, but there was so much wrong. There was only one person who could put up with her and help her, but she was mad at her.

Vivian picked her phone up from the floor and unlocked it. She was originally going to scroll through her social media, but ended up in her contacts. Almost as if she was in autopilot, Vivian called Wanda. She then immediately dropped the phone in shock.

She wasn't supposed to call her. It was one in the morning and she knew that Wanda probably had some Avenger-y stuff to do in a few hours. And besides, Vivian did not have her shit together. If today proved anything, she had gotten worse.

Still... Vivian needed help pulling it together, and Wanda knew how to help her.

She waited as the phone rang once, twice, three times. Eventually it went to voicemail, Wanda's soft voice ringing out. That's when it hit Vivian; Wanda wasn't coming back anytime soon.