Fire and Smoke - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Chapter 89

Wanda drags Natasha and me onto the porch of the cabin without saying so much as another syllable. She pushes Natasha in front of her, me being dragged behind. My bare feet ache and complain against the cold, hard ground, and my skin feels icy against Wanda's warm touch. I try wrangling my wrist out of her iron grip, but her fingers dig into my skin stronger, surprising me in their strength after I was so certain she must be feeling so frail. There's nothing frail about her now, though. Natasha curses loudly, looking at Wanda with furrowed eyebrows in anger, but something about Wanda makes her not argue. She gives me a look and I shrug, shaking my head with wide eyes. But neither of us can really do much. And so we're hurdled like cattle forward. 

Wanda's hair seems to glisten slightly redder under the overcast sky. As we walk up the stairs onto the porch, Natasha is pushed in front of Wanda (not without a curse first) and I'm dragged behind (also not without a select few curses uttered). Wanda's torso twists slightly as she tries to pull me up the stairs.

Somehow, she wrangles Natasha successfully into the cabin. Natasha turns around in the doorway, opening her mouth. Without Wanda as much as touching the door, it slams shut in Natasha's face.

I'm about to open my mouth to argue again, taken completely aback by this sudden burst of authoritarianism on Wanda's behalf. My wrist certain to bruise in a few hours, and Wanda turns around on her heels, her cardigan flying about like a sort of domestic version of a cape.

"What-" I begin, but Wanda's eyes flash red.

"I don't think-" I start again, finally yanking hard enough for Wanda's fingers to loosen their grip of me. "You have any-"
"Shut the fuck up." Wanda harshly commands, the syllables sounding curt in her mouth and her eyes retain a slight flicker of red within them, something I'm not certain she's even aware of.

"Excuse me?" I gasp, blood rushing to my cheeks as I hold my wrist to my chest, shivering slightly in the cold.

"Shut. Up." Wanda steps forward, eyes flashing and I raise my chin defiantly, not understanding her treatment of me, yet again. She'll go from ignoring me to hating me, to kissing me, to hating me, and to ignoring me again quicker than I can keep up with.

"You can't tell-"
"You can't come here and lie." Wanda says through gritted teeth, cutting me off with a voice that is shaking slightly as she tries to stay quiet enough so the confused guests on the other side of the shut door wouldn't overhear.

"Lie?" I repeat incredulously with a dry laugh, disbelieving my ears, almost forgetting the cold.

Wanda tilts her head, pursing her lips at me. I raise my eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate. She doesn't, instead just stands there with her arms crossed over her chest, cheeks flushed and green eyes flashing daggers. She's as unpredictable as the ocean. Unfortunately for me, I'm not a great swimmer, and faced with her riptides I'm useless and can but splash around, hoping to not drown.

"Wanda, what the fuck are you on about!?" I take a step towards her, my brows furrowed in confusion.

It's her turn to let out a mirthless little laugh, but my approach forces her to look away from me, at least, and I exhale shakily in the respite from her burn. The respite doesn't last long, though, because it's as though she knows her effect on me, and knows exactly how to use it to her advantage. She turns her eyes to me again, and my breath leaves me again. Damn her. She sports a small smile on her rosy lips and I falter. Predictable, Olivia.

Wanda lets out an annoyed groan. "I don't know what you want from me, Olivia!"

Her apparent attempt at sounding angry comes off as mostly scared to me. She blinks quickly, wetting her lips, quickly restoring those walls around her before I fully scale them.