Chapter Text
she really is perfect, wanda thought.
she was sat cross legged on the carpet, her back against the cool window that looked out on the city from stark tower, her backpack beside her.
she tried to tear her eyes away from the redhead, but the woman just attracted her gaze
she'd slowly been getting used to life in the avengers compound. it wasn't easy, after the battle of sokovia, losing pietro... having to face stark everyday.
it was nice in some ways. she liked peter, he was closest to her age (he was 18, wanda 19), he would cook with her and make her green tea, and provide a shoulder to cry on when her head was too loud and the dreams too real.
she liked clint, his goofy humour and stupid puns, one of the few avengers that she felt wasn't afraid of her.
the others were alright, she was learning to talk to them comfortably
but natasha.
that was a tough subject.
the first time wanda saw the assassin, ultron had commanded her to warp her mind like the others. she didn't really want to, especially considering there was something about the beautiful russian that just.. drew her in.. but she did.
in doing so, she glimpsed the horrors of natasha's past, the misery and the trauma that infected wanda's own nightmares sometimes
she had regretted it instantly, and took out her rage by focusing on stark.
but later, she found that ultron had locked the back widow in a jail cell (fuckin stereotypes) and wanda, unbeknownst to her brother, had snuck in and left her some food and water.
she was gone quickly, not wanting to scare natasha any more.
after it was all over, when vision had saved her and brought her back to the compound, she did her best to become an avenger, to help save people to make up for the damage that she had caused
to avoid her intense grief, she worked hard.
she threw herself into training, favouring getting help from steve more than natasha, not wanting to see the stoic expression upon her face that masked her true feelings towards the witch; undoubtedly hatred and fear, maybe disgust...
but cap insisted the team spend time together for things such as movie nights or group meals to 'bond'
at such times, wanda was a nervous mess.
she was usually okay when one-on-one, but she had never liked crowds, and being near natasha was always... interesting.
wanda loathes the way her heart skips when natasha so much as looks at her, the way her hands tremble when the assassin engages her in conversation.
she told no one, of course, though wanda suspected peter knew something, from the way he grinned at her whenever she was quietly blushing in the corner of the room.
sighing, wanda fiddled with her rings as she watched the avengers mill about the room, bickering good-naturedly.
they were ordering pizza, she gathered, from the way clint was whooping from the couch, twirling an arrow between his fingers.
the team acted kindly towards her, with stark it was a little stiff and awkward, but it was fine.
natasha was always nice, but that was all she ever was.
the two women avoided each other when they could, and the tension just built.
"yo wanda! pepperoni?"
wanda snapped to attention. peter jogged over and sat with her against the window, nudging her slightly. "you okay? you're a bit out of it"
wanda nodded, her face slightly hidden behind her sleek coppery hair.
they were both oblivious to the assassin watching them carefully
"not in the mood for them?" Peter asked, tilting his head towards the others (currently clint was trying to demonstrate how to do a headstand, while a bemused nat, tony, steve, bruce and vision watch)
"i'm fine, pete" wanda said, meeting his eyes.
"why don't you draw?" peter said softly.
that was a good idea. she hadn't drawn in a while, so occupied by her studies and training.
art had always calmed her down, whether it was making pictures in the snow with a stick as a child, or scratching patterns into her HYDRA jail cell wall.
fortunately, wanda had since gotten herself a little black sketchbook, that she took with her wherever she went, often sitting in remote naturey places around the city and sketching the view.
reaching into her bag, she grabbed her pad and leaned back against the window(she was used to sitting on the floor her whole life, it was odd adjusting to furniture)
"why don't we go sit on that sofa?" peter said gently, gesturing to the sofa a little way aways from where the others were goofing around
wanda hesitated, then complied, knowing the boy would be happier nearer the others, and also because she was sat somewhere comfortable
she settled against the side of the chair, pulling her pj-clad legs up, and opened her book.
soon the annoying babble of her teammates became cosy background noise, and she allowed herself to drift into her imagination.
she picked up a light stick of charcoal, and sketched across the page, patterns forming, spirals and dots and lines crossing.
she never knew what it would become.
glancing around for inspiration, her eyes inevitably landed on natasha, who was sat near her, her legs slung over the side of an armchair.
the woman looked fucking fantastic today, if wanda dared think to herself, her red hair was mussed from laughing quietly at clint and tony's antics, she looked hot in sweatpants and a scruffy black tee, her pretty features alight with mirth.
shit, she was staring. she ignored peter's knowing smirk, and looked down at the page, face burning.
she tried to focus on her art, but natasha kept popping back into her head.
fuck it, wanda thought.
she started to gently sketch the outline of natasha's figure, lithe and relaxed upon her chair, face tilted towards clint, who was animatedly re enacting a prank he had played on Tony.
before she knew it, wanda's page was filled with rushed but detailed sketches of the assassin, her from different angles, in biro or fineliner or pencil.
just as she was carefully shading the shirt natasha was wearing, she heard a barely audible giggle.
looking up, she saw natasha looking at her, stifling a laugh.
wanda flushed. did she know? how could she-
"you often do that?" the redhead asked, voice light.
wanda tried not to gape. "d-do what?" she replied, cursing internally at how stupid she sounded
but the woman just smirked. "poke your tongue out like that"
wanda opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to respond.
"relax, scarlet. it's cute" natasha said, her voice a slight purr.
wanda's stomach did a flip, and she looked down at her page, blushing even more.
scarlet?? oh yes, clint had mentioned that the people had started to call her the scarlet witch.
she hastily closed her sketchbook as she saw the woman gracefully rise from her chair and come to sit next to wanda, still laughing quietly
"what were you writing?" natasha asked, mimicking wanda's position on the sofa, facing her
"oh, just-i like to draw sometimes, it like.. it helps in a way, it's calming and it's always been something there that i could do.." wanda rambled, pushing her hair out of her face nervously
she looked at natasha, surprised to see her gazing at her intently.
" may I see? " the woman said, and wanda's heart hammered at the huskiness in her voice. she was so screwed goddammit.
" u-uh.. sure.." wanda stuttered, and shakily flipped to a page earlier in the book, turning it to face natasha.
natasha reached out a slender hand to take the book, and wanda gave it to her with a trembling hand. natasha studied the page wanda had turned to.
it was a sketch in pencil of a park wanda liked to go to in the city, she had had a panic attack and so turned to her art in need of calm. she had used a soft graphite pencil to trace the features of the environment, gentle strokes of grass and little benches dotted around the plains.
wanda liked the soothing atmosphere of the drawing.
she expected natasha to just nod approvingly and pass the pad back to her, like people usually did, but she was again surprised as nat just looked thoughtfully at her work.
wanda barely stifled a yelp as the redhead carefully turned the page.
the next page wanda had drawn portrait, so nat turned the book and hummed thoughtfully
this one wasn't so normal, it was stark tower, but the thick ink lines made it look unsteady and feeble, angry marks decorating the page.
wanda had implemented vines circling the building, threatening to submerge it completely in jagged thorns. wanda had even swirled inky lines into the sky, intending them to be storm clouds, but the end result had them looking much like patterns of fire illuminating the sky and burning the city, setting the tower ablaze
this, coupled with the lightning piercing the top of the building and the smouldering remains of the ST A R K sign on the ground, painted a grim image of the misery that Tony Stark deserved, or had caused.
art meant something different to everyone.
wanda had drawn that right after the avengers had brought her to the compound, she was still filled with rage. her grief of not only losing her parents but having her brother, her other half, ripped away from her only added to the inferno inside the sokovian's heart, and she had ran off in the night to think.
she brought her sketchbook, and sat on the ledge of a diner, and drew furiously for two hours, staring with hatred at the shining tower, twinkling merrily in the darkness
it was probably the most detailed piece she'd ever done, as her going over with a grey fineliner and adding drops of water to create despair in the form of artistic inky blotches had made the art stand out, popping off the page.
wanda held her breath as natasha looked down at the piece, an unreadable expression on her pretty face.
"im guessing you drew this a while ago, no?" natasha murmered to the witch, who was breathing unevenly next to her
wanda nodded, gulping
"i like your style" the older woman said quietly, her green eyes meeting wanda's.
wanda smiled shyly. "thank you"
"it's very.. passionate? i like your use of different materials" natasha continued, still looking at wanda
blushing, wanda twisted her silver rings, unable to look at the other woman for too long
natasha leaned forward slightly, her red curls falling in her face. wanda longed to play with them.
"I wonder..." natasha started, her voice barely above a whisper, when she was cut off by Tony yelling from across the room.
"NAT! YOU ORDERED MUSHROOM RIGHT?"
wanda jumped at the noise, imperceptibly to anyone else, but not to a former spy.
natasha placed her hand on wanda's leg, rubbing it soothingly, before yelling back some obscenities in russian at the engineer holding her pizza.
wanda tried to slow her racing heart, desperately trying to ignore the dizzy feeling that natasha's hand on her leg caused her.
"pizza time" the assassin drawled, and she gently passed wanda back her sketchbook (their fingers brushed for a second, wanda died) before winking at her and joining the others
so.. that happened.. wanda thought dazedly as she shoved her book back in her bag.
thank fuck nat hadn't seen wanda's literal page FILLED WITH DRAWINGS OF HER.
she wondered what the nat was going to say..