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Since the age of six, if anyone asked you who your best friend was, you would proudly respond, “Wanda Maximoff”; she would do the same with your name.
But, you’re not exactly sure when your feelings for her become less friendly .
Maybe it was one of those times she had gone off on a tangent and explained the latest book she read, saying how much you’d “love it if you just listened to her and read the damn book.” You found her passion for stories endearing, perhaps even admirable. Maybe it was Field Day during the seventh grade; the outside air was plagued by blistering heat, but — with her long, brunette hair tied up in a high ponytail — she made sweating look good . Maybe it was the fact that, when you came out to your family last year, she had comforted you afterward; she held your face in her hands, wiped your tears with her two thumbs, and told you any girl would be lucky to have you.
You were sure at this moment that you did not want “any girl,” however, because the only girl you wanted was the one sitting in front of you.
You mistakenly let out a scoff. Of course, you would fall victim to the “lesbian falls for the straight best friend” trope. Wanda, on the other hand, thought the scoff was a response to her; thus, she pulled you into a tight hug, trying to convey how deeply she cares for you.
“I’m serious, Y/N,” she whispered into your ear. “One day, some girl is going to love you for you .”
You didn’t reply.
It was the second to last day of your junior year in high school. Thankfully, you had finished your exams, but the school required everyone to attend until the last day anyway.
It’s not like you could’ve done much for summer anyways; it has been raining all week, and it’s not like you got your license, nor do you even own a car. Additionally, you reasoned there could be far worse places to be in this moment, like home.
As you closed your locker, a mischievous brunette was lingering on the other side.
“Hello, Wanda. What can I do you for on this very fine day?” you said, sarcastically putting emphasis on the “very fine” part of the question.
She chuckled as she shook her head, “Nothing, at least not with that attitude.”
“Fine,” you gave in quickly, in pursuit of the real reason behind this conversation. “Seriously, though, what has Wanda Maximoff in such a chipper mood during school hours?”
Somehow, your question made her smile grow wider. “You’ll never guess what happened this morning,” she began. “Vision asked me out.”
Now, that caught your attention, “What?”
“Yeah, you know Tony, right? He’s that annoying rich kid in our class. Anyways, he’s throwing some sort of party for the end of the year and, since he and Vision are essentially best friends, Vision asked me to go to the party with him.”
You were only able to get one word out: “Wow.”
Noticing your lack of enthusiasm, Wanda turned her body completely towards you, “What? What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for me?”
Truthfully, you were not excited for her. It’s not as if you did not know of Wanda’s infatuation with Vision; in fact, you could probably never forget the number of times she would talk to you about his “beautiful, blonde hair” and “pretty eyes.” Vision was not necessarily a bad kid, but you just hate that she just couldn’t like you like that.
It’s not like you could share this desire with your best friend either; ergo, you opted to put on a brave face and say, “Of course, I’m excited for you.” And, in case she didn’t believe you, you playfully elbowed her side, “If it goes well, I better be the maid of honor.”
You know that had convinced her, for she bit her lip and nodded excitedly.
“Oh,” Wanda started. “One more thing…”
As you looked at the mansion that stood before you, filled to the brim with a plethora of drunk teenagers, you uttered to yourself, “I don’t know why I let her talk me into coming to this. One day, I am going to have to stop agreeing with her on everything.”
You know you wouldn’t — if she wanted something, you’d make sure she’d get it. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from finding situations such as this annoying.
You walked through the front door. Immediately, your senses were overwhelmed by the strong smell of alcohol and the loud music blasting in the atmosphere. You attempted to push through to get through the crowd of people and find the person responsible for your presence. Before you could get much further, you felt another person grab and pull your wrist from behind, forcing you to turn around.
Wanda.
“Y/N, you came!” she tried to yell over the music. You could tell she wasn’t drunk, but she had definitely consumed something alcoholic. You failed to get a word in before she continued to pull you by the hand to venture further into the crowd of people, “Come on, let’s go dance!”
Moments later, you found yourself awkwardly “dancing” with your best friend. Although, she seemed to be having the time of her life. When she noticed your stiffness, she brought you closer to her, allowing you to hear her say, “Don’t worry about everyone else… Just dance with me!”
So, you did. You let go of any apprehensions, allowing yourself to move freely with the music and the girl in front of you.
Meanwhile, Vision stood across the room with a drink in hand. Not really thrilled by what he was seeing occurring between you and Wanda, he decided to end it. Drunkenly strolling over to you two, he pulled her from your grasp and into (in your unbiased opinion) one of the grossest, sloppiest kisses you had ever witnessed.
You weren’t exactly sure how to respond, partly due to the fact that there wasn’t exactly a reason to be envious of him anyways. So, you stood there awkwardly once more, pushing the jealousy down within you.
Wanda, on the other hand, was not thrilled by the action either. She knew he was drunk, tasting the alcohol the minute he forcefully placed his lips on hers. Quickly, she pulled away, “What the fuck , Vision? What was that ?”
With a smirk aimed at you, he replied, “What do you mean?”
She scowled, “You can’t just do that! Why would you ever think that was okay?”
“I should ask you the same thing.”
Now, she was the one in a state of confusion, yet hers was not fake, “What do you mean?”
“Y/N,” his retort made you look down at your old, worn-out sneakers. You weren’t entirely sure what direction this was all going, but you already knew that you did not like it.
“What about her, Vision?”
“She’s obviously into you. I saw how you two were dancing together. My friends saw it, too. How is that supposed to make me feel, Wanda?”
Despite not being able to look up due to the embarrassment, you could feel the anger rolling off of Wanda’s body, “That is so not true, Vision, and you know it! Why are you acting so insecure about it, anyway? She’s my best friend, and I’m not even gay !”
You know she didn’t mean it like that , but something about the way she yelled the last part at the teenage boy came with a sort of venom — as if “gay” was synonymous with “bad.”
“You know what, Wanda? I’m done with this argument. You choose now : me or Y/N.”
That took Wanda aback, “ What? ”
“You heard me.”
“No, Vision,” she began. “That’s not fair, I refuse to choose between you and my best friend.”
“Either you choose me, and we can continue dating, or you choose her .”
A moment passed. In an attempt to not outwardly demonstrate the pain, you clamped your eyes shut. Honestly, you were about to walk away, accept defeat, and simply pretend this night never happened in the first place; you would have let her know later that it was alright, that if she wanted him, she could have him without someone like her standing in her way. Before she could move her feet to leave, however, she heard Wanda finally speak: “Fine, then. I choose her.”
Upon her decision being made, you finally looked up with wide eyes. Vision had the same wide eyes as you, but his face was paling from the initial rageful red that painted it moments earlier. Now, you shared two things with him: your love for Wanda and the visible shock that she chose you over him. It took every fiber of your being to not smile, as you knew now was not the time to celebrate such a victory.
Before another poisonous comment could be passed between the two, Tony stepped through the crowd that had surrounded you three. “Okay, man. That’s enough. Let’s go,” he ushered Vision away from the scene.
The crowd dissipated, leaving your best friend standing there alone. You took their exit as an opportunity to make sure Wanda was alright. You tried to reach out to her, to touch her shoulder. Maybe it was to pull her into one of your two’s infamously tight hugs; maybe it was to just let her know you were just there . You don’t know why you reached for her, but you didn’t really think before acting since it just felt like the most natural thing to do for you. Immediately, your hand was shrugged off by the brunette. Your body began to feel hot, and tears started to form in your eyes. You refused to cry, though, instead choosing to look down at your feet once more and begin your journey back home.
Within minutes you were back in the comfort of your own bed. With a harsh swallow, you continuously replayed the events of tonight over and over again. You laid there, reminiscing on just how utterly humiliated and alone you felt.
Even then in your state of depression and self-pity, you only hoped Wanda was doing okay.
Wanda left the party soon after you did. Similarly, she went home and found herself collapsed in her bed.
She didn’t bother changing out of her clothes, nor did she take off her makeup. Internally, she wishes that the bed would swallow her in order to leave the ramifications of tonight as a “potential” occurrence rather than an “actual.” She just doesn’t understand why : why he would do something like that; why the universe hates her; why she turned you away when she knew you did nothing wrong.
A brief, soft knock at her bedroom door removed her from her cyclical round of thoughts. “Come in,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to carry across the room like it usually does.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing her twin brother standing on the other side. “Hey, сестра,” he began, approaching her bed with caution and sitting beside where her legs laid. “How are you doing?” [sestra | sister]
She doesn’t acquire the information about how exactly he learned about the events of tonight, perhaps from some friends of his that went to the party. Instead, she chuckled humorlessly, “How do you think I feel, Pietro? I think I just lost my best friend and the guy I liked in one night.”
“‘The guy you liked’? You mean, Vision?” he wondered. “Honestly, I didn’t like him anyway. You didn’t lose much on that front. But, what happened with Y/N? You guys never fight.”
“I don’t even know, Pietro. One minute, we’re just dancing and having fun because you know Y/N — she never comes to parties. I wanted to make the most of the night. As we were dancing, though, Vision walked up to us, stole me from her, and just kissed me. Not only was it without my consent and out of spite, but it was just gross .”
The latter statement made the twin brother laugh. She continued, “I pulled away quickly because I was just so angry , you know? Like why did he think he could just do that? So, I asked him, which caused us to have an argument in the middle of the party. In the end, he gave me an ultimatum: him or Y/N. Of course, I chose her because… I don’t know, Y/N is Y/N.”
He sat there next to her, listening intently. He sighed, “Yeah, but what happened between you and Y/N ?”
She closed her eyes, “I don’t know .” The statement wasn’t a lie because she truly did not understand why she reacted the way she did towards you, her best friend . The tears started flowing again, soon turning into a set of sobs that ultimately racked her body. Her brother swiftly leaned down, taking his sister into his arms; she continued to cry into his chest for what felt like hours.
After some time had passed, the sobs slowed down and transformed into sniffles. Pietro looked down at his sister, “What’s wrong?”
She refused to look up, but she knew she had to get this off her chest. “Pietro,” she released in a single breath. He affirmed to her to continue, “I think… I think I’m gay.” There was another beat of silence before she slowly proceeded once more, “I think I like Y/N.”
There it was: the beast of the truth that was unknowingly weighing her down was finally released.
If it was even possible, Pietro pulled her closer in his embrace. Though he was aware that discussions of sexuality were becoming increasingly accepted and treated as an insignificant portion of someone’s life, he also knew that this was a big deal for her . He acknowledged such a fact, “I’m proud of you, Wanda, and I’m glad you told me, especially because I know it must have been difficult for you to realize and go through this on your own — even without Y/N… is this what caused the rift between you two? Did you tell her, and she rejected you?”
She scoffed, “Quite the opposite, actually; Vision accused her of liking me — which she probably doesn’t — but I just stood there, screaming at him that we were ‘just friends’ and that I ‘wasn’t even gay.’ You should’ve seen her when I shrugged her away after, Pietro. She looked so hurt . I hurt her.”
“You want to know how to fix this?” he asked, quickly followed by a confident nod from her. “You have to talk to her. Even if she didn’t like you, this is not something to lose such a close friendship over. For the record, though, she does like you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and that is definitely someone in love.”
Her head snapped up at the accusation, meeting the smirk that was plastered on his face. If he was right, she really messed up. She urgently needed to see you, to tell you once and for all how she truly feels about you; thus, she told her brother that she was going to find you and left him and his smirk behind.
Wanda didn’t have a clue about what she was going to say when she saw you; she didn’t have a script, nor did she have any guidelines to follow. She just knew she had to see you , only then would everything make sense for her.
You were on the verge of sleep when you could feel the vibrations coming from your phone. In a sleepy haze, you picked up the phone. The brightness made you unexpectedly squint your eyes, but the Caller ID was unmistakable: Wanda Maximoff.
You weren’t sure what exactly to do in this situation. On one hand, you knew you could not face another rejection, specifically from her. It would probably break you beyond repair. On the other hand, you could never say no to Wanda, even if it meant answering her calls at the most random times of the day.
So, you shakily tapped the green button and pulled the phone close to your ear.
“Hello? Y/N?” you could hear Wanda ask on the other side of the line.
“Hi,” you responded back. Wanda noted how soft your voice sounded. Normally, she would consider such softness an adorable trait of yours, but she knows the reason behind it. She knows it was her fault that you felt insecure at that moment.
“I’m– Um, I’m outside; can you come downstairs to open the door?” Wanda asked. Now, you were almost completely awake; the question made you raise your eyebrows in astonishment.
Despite your initial surprise, you muttered a quiet approval that you would meet her at the door and made your way downstairs.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. You don’t know what she’s going to say to you. You unlock the door and reach for the handle of the door, slowly turning it and pulling the wooden door towards you until you’re able to see Wanda on your front doorstep. Even with the low amount of yellow light coming from the bulb outside the door and the makeup visibly smeared on her face (probably from crying, you note), all you can think about is just how pretty she looks.
Her eyes look up to meet yours, causing your breath to hitch for a second. You weren’t certain about how to go about this, “Uh, do you want to come in? We’d have to go up to my room quietly because my parents are home.”
She accepted the invite, nodding her head hesitantly. The two of you walked upstairs, through the hall, back to where you had initially been laying in your bed and wallowing in your pity. You got back in your bed and crossed your legs as you sat against the headboard. Wanda, however, did not sit alongside you like she usually does; instead, she paced around your room. It was obvious that she was stuck in a state of stress and anxiety that you had never seen, even when she failed that one test back in sophomore year.
Your eyes trailed back and forth as you observed her pacing; suddenly, she came to a stop in front of the bed. Her body was not facing you, rather it faced the way that she had been walking moments prior. She started to play with the rings littered on her various fingers, which you had learned early on that it was a nervous habit of hers. You chose to remain quiet and to let her speak when she was ready due to the evidently difficult subject matter, but you couldn’t help your own anxiety rising.
Without looking at you, she finally broke the silence: “I need to tell you something, Y/N. I need to tell you a few things, actually. I’m not sure how you’ll react, but I also know that you didn’t deserve what happened to you tonight, to be put in that situation. You deserve more than that; honestly, you deserve everything good, and I’m so sorry that I put you through that. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me or be friends with me anymore, but I would not forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to salvage us .”
You sat silently in shock but continued to let her speak: “I thought I knew myself. In fact, I was so sure I did. Yeah, I may not have known the answer to some stupid math equation in school, but I knew the kind of clothes I preferred to wear, my favorite food to eat when I’m sad or stressed out, my go-to karaoke song. I thought I knew myself , inside and out. But, I don’t, or at least not as well as I thought I did. And, honestly? That’s freaking me the fuck out because, if I don’t know myself , how can I know anything else? I know that probably makes no fucking sense, but… yeah. I’m just really scared right now, but I talked to Pietro, which helped a bit. Um, he was right. Vision was right.”
Your face fell. You thought this was it, she was finally going to reject you and leave you.
In the deafening silence swirling around the two of you in your bedroom, she eventually decided to look at you. She saw the way your body sagged, how utterly defeated you looked; the brunette realized that you took her statement in the wrong way, “No! No! No! I didn’t mean it like that! Fuck ! I’m fucking this up. Okay, no, Vision is not right about anything other than the fact that I don’t like him. I don’t like boys… Truthfully, I’m not sure. I just feel so confused and stupid for not realizing such a big thing sooner. That’s what I meant when I said I thought I knew myself: I thought I knew that I liked boys, which I feel like is something that many people know from the beginning.”
“So, you’re… gay?” you quietly asked. You might be almost as confused as Wanda claimed to be.
You watched as the brunette nodded slowly, “I think so? As I said, I don’t know.”
“Okay,” you bit your lip, concentrating on forming something insightful to say next. “Thank you, Wanda, for telling me. I know how difficult and confusing it all is — believe me. Some people figure it out relatively early; others don’t realize it until they’re married with kids. There’s no timeline to any of it, okay? I know we’re kind of in this weird state right now because of tonight, but no matter what, I’d always support you.”
In a brief moment of confidence, Wanda turned her head to face you. You could see the water in her eyes that threatened to fall, her lip beginning to quiver. You rapidly stood up and walked over to her. With the two of you finally facing each other within a two-foot radius, she threw herself at you, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck. Your arms found their way to her waist, snaking around her and finding placement on her back. Both of you kept holding on tighter and tighter, afraid the other would try to leave. You could feel her chest rising and falling relatively fast as she cried into your neck and shoulder, repeating the phrase “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”
You removed one hand from her back; instead, you placed it on her head. With a trembling hand, you tread your fingers through her long hair. In an attempt to calm her down, you whisper things of assurance like “It’s okay,” “You’re okay,” or “It’s going to be alright.” You’re not confident they worked, but you could feel her breathing begin to slow down again. You moved the hand from her hair to her shoulder and pulled back in order to ensure she was okay enough to continue; shifting from the shoulder to her hand, you grasped it and squeezed.
You moved to sit on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to you. Wanda was noticeably apprehensive, but she sat anyway.
“Are you okay?” you inquired, your eyebrow slightly raised in concern.
“Yeah, I am. At least, I will be eventually,” she trailed off. “There’s one more thing, though… probably the hardest for me to tell you out of all of them.”
Your eyebrows raised slightly as your interest peaked, but you knew to stay quiet again. She proceeded, “I told you that I don’t like men, implying that I do like women, which is true to an extent, I guess. Um, but it’s not ‘women' as in plural. All I know is that I like one, but I’m not sure how she feels about me. I want to tell her so badly so that we could try to be more or something, but I don’t know if she feels the same. I just don’t want to ruin us .”
You nodded your head for her to continue, “Can– Can I ask which lucky girl caught your eye?”
She moved her gaze upwards, resulting in your eyes locking once more. You could tell she was battling with herself internally about whether or not to answer with the truth, for she was harshly biting her lip. Yet, what you didn’t expect was her quiet, albeit one-word, response: “You.”
At this moment, with your eyes locked and her confession having been spoken, you swear your heart skipped a beat. Wanda Maximoff, your best friend and untold love of your life , just admitted she liked you as more than a friend.
Her eyes grew concerned and her face paled since you weren’t responding. “Please, say something… Y/N?” she pleaded.
If there was a time to deal all of your cards on the table, this was it: “I like you, too, Wanda. In fact, I love you. I love you so much, Wanda Maximoff. You don’t have to say it back or whatever; I know tonight has been a lot for you to deal with, but I’ve just wanted to say that to you for so long.”
A toothy grin grew on her face, reaching from ear to ear, “Really?”
“Yes, really. Um, can I kiss you? You don’t have to say ye—“
You were stopped effectively and prematurely when a pair of lips touched yours. Not just any lips, though; they were the softest , purest pair that was owned by your love , Wanda Maximoff. It’s slow at first, neither one of you sure of the other’s boundaries and not wanting to cross wherever they lie. But, as your lips part further allowing her to deepen the kiss, you just think, Wow.
You continue to kiss her for a minute or two before you’re out of breath and need to pull back for air. Before she can pull back completely, you give her a quick peck on her rosy lips that was probably filled with more intimacy and confidence than that initial kiss.
Pulling the brunette closer to you, you lean down and get the two of you comfortable in your bed. You’ve cuddled like this before during past nights where one of you spent the night with the other girl: you as the big spoon and her as the little one. You deeply appreciated nights like these, but you loved them even more so now that they hold a different context.
Your hand finds its spot on her hip, going beneath the shirt she wore. The two of you know it’s nothing sexual in nature, rather it’s a result of your need to just feel her. As you both began to nod off to sleep with your thumb continued to rub circles on her soft skin, you heard her voice call your name softly once more, “Y/N?”
“Yeah, Wands?”
“I love you, too.”