( it isn't quite enough, this small show of comfort, and she worries at her bottom lip, hands back to to her lap, wringing around one another.
he wouldn't need to explain how downtime never lasts — oh, does she ever know. even here, or maybe especially, she thinks of when this place will show its teeth. It all does, eventually.
she blinks, watching him rise, and follows to do the same on instinct. steve he says, and there's a pang of distant melancholy catching in her throat — a memory of a friend, no longer within her reach either, separated by time and choice. funny, how much weight a simple name can carry. yet, wanda offers a twist of a smile, small and not unkind, even if it doesn't quite reach her eyes, as she stands up and looks at him again. ) Wanda — ( he's taller than her and it isn't a lot of space to separate them, and certainly not enough to stop her attention from going to the angry welt still across his throat, bruise dark and purpling and its a wonder how she hadn't noticed it before. she is absolutely going to worry about it what the fuck steve??
there is a beat, a blink where her mouth thins and there is a a different sort of understanding in the hard set of her eyes. she looks back to his tear-streaked face. ) Are you okay? ( she asks, more sharply now, more pointedly, hand almost rising back up, before she remembers that she doesn't have any of her powers, before she remembers that despite wanting to, she couldn't even try to help. ) Is that from here, or from your home? ( maybe that's prying, but this is important, if he's hurt. )
gently adopts,,, you're MY son now
he wouldn't need to explain how downtime never lasts — oh, does she ever know. even here, or maybe especially, she thinks of when this place will show its teeth. It all does, eventually.
she blinks, watching him rise, and follows to do the same on instinct. steve he says, and there's a pang of distant melancholy catching in her throat — a memory of a friend, no longer within her reach either, separated by time and choice. funny, how much weight a simple name can carry. yet, wanda offers a twist of a smile, small and not unkind, even if it doesn't quite reach her eyes, as she stands up and looks at him again. ) Wanda — ( he's taller than her and it isn't a lot of space to separate them, and certainly not enough to stop her attention from going to the angry welt still across his throat, bruise dark and purpling and its a wonder how she hadn't noticed it before. she is absolutely going to worry about it what the fuck steve??
there is a beat, a blink where her mouth thins and there is a a different sort of understanding in the hard set of her eyes. she looks back to his tear-streaked face. ) Are you okay? ( she asks, more sharply now, more pointedly, hand almost rising back up, before she remembers that she doesn't have any of her powers, before she remembers that despite wanting to, she couldn't even try to help. ) Is that from here, or from your home? ( maybe that's prying, but this is important, if he's hurt. )