Hi, have some amateur Wanda/Vision fluff I can't promise the quality of that I typed up on a whim on my iPhone. Happy Valentine's.
Warning: mention of grief
Because You Love Me
Wanda tore her gaze away from the mirror at the knock on her door. She inhaled deeply, eyes flitting back to her reflection one last time. It's just a dinner date. She wished Nat or Sharon were here to reassure her she looked fine, but the other women were preoccupied with duties or missions. Nat was feeling Bruce's absence about now, anyway; it was probably best she wasn't here, Wanda decided.
Friday piped up, "Vision is at the door, Miss Maximoff. Would you like me to admit him?"
Her cue to stop fiddling. "No, I'll be right there," she said, rising from her vanity. She smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt and strode to the door.
It opened, revealing Vision sporting a heart-shaped box of chocolates and hovering an inch above the floor. He appeared almost sheepish as he lowered to settle on his feet—one of the newer emotions he'd learned. He knew everything in theory, of course. It was the experience he lacked, though Wanda was working on that.
She accepted the box with a smile, setting it inside before joining him in the hallway. "Thank you," she said.
"I thought chocolate would be more appropriate than some of the more extravagant gifts Tony procured for Miss Potts—er, Pepper," admitted Vision. Using first names was also something they were working on, the formality a trait carried over from Jarvis' consciousness.
Wanda took his hand. "You didn't have to give me a gift."
He tightened his grip, testing the strength with which he held her purely human fingers. He'd told her once that he was afraid to touch her, part of why he never initiated the contact between them. She was so fragile to him—so easily breakable compared to his capacity to fluctuate his molecular density. "I wanted to. You've…done so much."
They arrived at the elevator and entered it, Wanda picking her words carefully. "That's not something you have to thank me for."
"Because you love me." It was a statement, not spoken either over-confidently or insecurely, but as a fact.
"Right." Wanda leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Because I love you."
/
He looked down at her as they left the base and headed for the restaurant Rhodes had suggested he take her to. She wore a crimson dress. It may have been his name, but tonight Wanda was the vision. Subconsciously, he altered the color of his tie to match the dress's shade of red.
Later, he looked down at her again, as she drifted off on his shoulder during the ride back home.
Vision couldn't quite define love: all he had were examples and references to use as a basis to try to identify his feelings. She was teaching him, and somehow in the middle of all their lessons, he'd learned that one unintentionally.
"I love you too," he told her as she slipped off to sleep. He didn't understand why those four words always made her eyes glisten—the first time he asked she kissed him and simply replied that she was happy. He understood the significance of that, better than he did expressing his feelings with the phrase "I love you"—she'd said months ago that she felt like she'd never be happy without her brother. It made his chest inexplicably tighten to see her with tears in her eyes, so he waited to say it until she was on the edge of wake and sleep, where she'd likely forget it but close her eyes with warmth in her heart and a smile lingering on her face.
He'd misjudged her though. She was still awake. Sleepily she reached up to cover the place where his heart would be with her palm. "Happy Valentine's Day," she mumbled.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Wanda."