"Your memory feels like home to me. So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you." - Ranata Suzuki
Movement 18: Halo
Later that evening Stephen found himself on the third floor of the Sanctum, standing in front of the building's trademark circular window adorned with the Seal of Vishanti*. It was an impressive feature that rivaled the resplendence of the rose windows built into old European cathedrals, but more importantly, it doubled as a protective mechanism that kept the spiritual residence safe from harm. For the sorcerer at this moment, though, the window provided a tranquil ambiance as the setting sun poured dramatically through the aperture and illuminated his surroundings.
Strange often visited this space when he had a heaviness on his mind. This time he was there mulling over Christine's texts from earlier that morning. She had elaborated in a few more unanswered messages that the former surgeon was invited to join her and some of their old colleagues for a drink. The group was apparently getting together at a new bar that recently opened up down the street.
He was heavily considering attending as he clutched at the busted watch he was currently holding in his hands. The torn-up accessory was a gift from his ex-lover; a relic from a time they were engaged. He'd wear that piece of shit every day like some sort of masochist, frequently indulging himself in torture sessions as he read and re-read the engraving on the back of the watch face.
Time will tell how much I love you. ~ Christine
Yeah, it sure did, didn't it?
Stephen asked himself if he really wanted to see Christine. His honest answer was an astounding yes and with every ounce of his being. But he had to consider - was it a good idea to see her? And in his heart, he knew, it absolutely was not. If anything, seeing her would lull him back into a false sense of hope for any sort of future with her, though he acknowledged that such a notion was deluded. Still, that's how his weak, love-sick mind functioned.
Having been so wrapped up in his thoughts, Strange hardly noticed soft footsteps approaching him from behind; that is until a sweet voice pulled him out of the depths of dark recollection.
"Hey, haven't really seen you much today. I just wanted to check in on you."
The voice belonged to Wanda, who stepped up next to the sulking sorcerer in her bedtime attire consisting of black sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. While she felt a bit underdressed in his presence, she couldn't help but be concerned that he remained in full uniform. It was getting late.
Stephen kept his gaze down on the watch he had been toying with, a bit ashamed to be found in such a state. "I'm fine, thanks. How are the twins?"
"They're doing well," Wanda smiled at his question but could sense that the man was deflecting. While she was worried for him, she didn't want to come off too aggressively. "Honestly, I don't think they've had this much fun in a while."
Perhaps it was due to the amount of time they spent together over the past couple of weeks or the trust forming between them as a consequence of that time, but regardless Strange felt the desire to open up to the displaced mother. While he wasn't great at talking through his feelings, he needed to lay his inner turmoil bare for someone else to see. Until now, Wong was the only one clued in on his history with Christine, and even he only knew so much of it.
After a few moments of silence passed, Stephen mustered up the courage to speak.
"Hey, can I ask you a weird question?"
"Sure," Wanda responded with a curious tilt of her head, making sure to intently listen to her host's next words as she anticipated their importance.
"Does it ever get easier … " the sorcerer asked awkwardly, " … living without him?"
"Vision?" the redhead clarified, wondering why Strange would be asking about her late husband while remaining non-judgemental.
"Yeah," the sullen man affirmed and kept his eyes glued to the watch he had been toying with.
Wanda shifted a bit uncomfortably at the question before answering truthfully, "Well, I wish I could say it does - but it doesn't. And it probably won't."
"I was afraid you'd say that," Stephen admitted defeatedly and slowly lifted his head to peer out the window in front of him. He wasn't trying to be rude by not looking over at his guest, but he likely wouldn't be able to carry on this heavy conversation otherwise.
As he grew silent, Wanda studied the dejected man, internally assessing his situation. Natural light spilled on the sorcerer perfectly, shading his profile in a way that reminded her of alluring paintings she'd seen in museums. Her empathetic nature signaled to her that something was off with her host, and as such, she wanted to make it known that she was happy to lend him an ear.
"I'm not great at advice, but I like to think of myself as a good listener. What's on your mind?"
Stephen let out a heavy sigh before responding but appreciated her willingness to hear him out. "Well, she isn't dead - but, I did think I was going to spend the rest of my life with her."
"Who?" the redhead asked, treading carefully as they conversed so as to not say something that would make his situation worse.
"Her name is Christine. She … chose someone else," Strange admitted, feeling a bit pathetic about the whole ordeal.
Wanda took a small pause to digest Stephen's words and to consider her own. She started by reaching out and placing a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
"Unrequited love isn't my forte, but I do know that she's the one missing out."
Stephen felt somewhat disarmed by her touch and finally allowed himself to turn towards his companion for the remainder of the conversation. Their eyes soon locked, causing Strange's heart to skip a beat as he lost himself in those glistening emerald irises for the first time. In his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but notice how the filtered sunlight painted Wanda's hair alluring shades of amber as they framed her pale complexion. While Strange thought he'd only ever be graced by the presence of one angel, he now felt the revelation that there'd be two.
Time did seem to cease for the sorcerer as found himself unexpectedly dismantled by Wanda's kind words, he did his best to keep his composure so as to not give himself away.
"I don't know about that. I'm not exactly prince charming."
Wanda assured his self-doubt, though, "You don't have to be. You're a good person. Whoever you end up with will be lucky to have you."
It was hard for Strange to hear those words, let alone accept them as truth, but something about the way Wanda said them silenced the storm brewing in his head.
In the background, the distant sound of children fighting disrupted their serene moment. Giving the heartbroken a squeeze of reassurance on the shoulder, Wanda took back her hand and excused herself. "That's my cue. Goodnight, Stephen. It's going to be alright."
As she turned to head back down the flight of stairs, Strange watched as butterflies aggressively swarmed his insides. If there was God in the traditional sense, he sure had a sick sense of humor.
Pulling out his phone, he finally had his answer for Christine -
Sorry, I won't be there.
*"The Vishanti are a trio of supernatural, god-like entities who act as patrons for the Sorcerer Supreme and defenders of the Earth realm ... The Seal of the Vishanti is predominantly featured in the Sanctum Sanctorum's window."
Information pulled from: wiki/Vishanti_(Earth-616)