This chapter posed a bit of a challenge for me as I placed the focus on Wanda in the storyline. Since Natasha has a longstanding history with the "reader," having known her for many years since her youth. Consequently, I've chosen to spotlight Wanda for the time being. However, fret not, as Natasha will play a more prominent role in the upcoming chapters.
But remember it's a slow burn, and we have some exciting twists and turns ahead.
"Wake up, sweetheart, rise and shine," Wanda called out briskly as she entered the guest bedroom.
"I shall rise, but I refuse to shine," you grumbled, pulling the covers up over your head.
Wanda tutted, patting your leg through the covers. "None of that. We have a busy schedule today."
Suddenly, it hit you that you had promised her a full day of doing anything she asked, so you quickly got up, earning a chuckle from Wanda. It took you a few minutes to get ready, and she called to you through the bathroom door, letting you know she would be in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and got ready quickly before setting out to find Wanda.
"There you are, sunshine," She cooed softly as you entered the kitchen. You shyly smiled at her.
"So, do you want me to fix breakf—" You stopped mid-sentence as you saw a stack of pancakes, bowls of fruit, and coffee on the counter.
"Don't worry about that. My plans for you today don't involve making food for me," Wanda said, gesturing for you to take a seat, and you followed her lead.
She filled your plate with food, and her doting warmed your heart. You couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked, humming to herself while preparing the meal. You felt a strange urge to snuggle up in her arms; she looked so soft in her green shirt and jeans. It stirred memories of watching your mother in the kitchen, yearning for her attention. However, she never acknowledged your desire for connection. Even attempts at hugs were met with rejection, as she was constantly engrossed in her busy schedule. The pain lingered, and the longing for her affection never waned. Observing Wanda, you couldn't help but wonder if this is why you find yourself gravitating towards Natasha and Wanda. From the start, they've made you feel uniquely valued, a sentiment you never experienced from your mother or anyone else in your life.
"Eat up, sweetheart," she said softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear so she could gaze at you fully. You couldn't help but admire her.
She pointed at your plate with her fork, indicating that you should start eating. You smiled down at your plate and began to dig in, all the while listening to her talk about her plans for the day. Since she had your help, she would focus on a sculpture she had put on hold due to its complicated nature. A comforting warmth enveloped you when she focused entirely on you. Although you knew you should address these emotions at some point, for now, it seemed easier to consider them a problem for tomorrow.
After finishing your meal, she guided you out of the kitchen and into her studio, and you eagerly followed. Each time her hand squeezed yours, your heart soared; sometimes, it even ached with the fear of losing that connection. Leading you towards the back of the studio, she asked for your help in unfolding a pile of clay. Upon closer inspection, it revealed the beginnings of hands and rough shapes of bodies.
"Okay, I need you to fill those basins with water and bring me the tools from the box marked 28," she instructed.
You nodded and quickly got to work, filling the basins and bringing over all the necessary tools. Sweat trickled down your back as you dragged the basin across the floor, making an awful noise. You winced and looked over at Wanda, who was fully immersed in her work.
"Don't worry about it; the floor has seen worse, trust me," she chuckled without lifting her gaze. Her words reassured you, yet you couldn't shake the longing for her eyes to meet yours.
A sigh escaped your lips as you chided yourself for entertaining such thoughts, feeling a bit foolish. Despite this, you continued to drag the basin across the floor. Panting, you finally brought it over to her, a contented smile gracing your face.
"Thank you, darling. You're such a sweetheart," Wanda cooed softly, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she finally gazed at you with her beautiful eyes.
You smiled bashfully as you watched her crouch down to rummage through the different tools and dipping towels in the water.
For the next several hours, though it felt like a wonderful minutes, you followed her every instruction and assisted her wherever needed. The work was physically demanding, and there was a moment when the steel structure seemed unable to support the clay, almost causing the entire piece to collapse. Wanda had offered you a peck on your head as a thank-you for saving her work when it tilted and you used your body to keep it from hitting the ground, even though it resulted in your favorite hoodie getting badly stained.
You headed to one of the counters, shed the hoodie, and returned in your shirt adorned with a dragon munching on a rainbow. Heat crept up your neck to your cheeks when you glanced down at your choice of clothing, but the peck Wanda had given you brushed aside your embarrassment, leaving you yearning for another.
Wanda halted her tasks, seemingly aware of your gaze, and turned to look at you. Her attention fixated on your t-shirt, and you couldn't help but hold your breath as her eyes traced over your body. A softening of her expression and an endearing smile made your heart flutter.
She tilted her head towards the counter and the sound of her voice washed over you. "Be a darling and bring those stacks of paper over."
You scrambled over there quickly craving that addictive praise Wanda would bestow on you when ever you acted on her orders fast enough.
"Thank you my sweet girl." Wanda sounded so pleased as you placed them at the floor were she was kneeling and you felt the pleased flush travel through your body, eager to earn her praise again.
You hovered around Wanda, and she would murmur her demands from time to time. You'd try to bring her tools or other objects she needed while working. It was fascinating and rather mesmerizing watching her work. You weren't even ashamed as you ogled her long, slender fingers as they molded the clay. You couldn't deny that you imagined yourself being the clay instead, but you had to shake your head discreetly when you found yourself glaring at the clay in jealousy. It did cause you to chuckle quietly, which Wanda picked up on. You were extremely proud when you didn't blush in response to her raised eyebrow and questioning eyes scanning your face. Instead, you shot her a shy smile while making an excuse about needing a glass of water.
Time seemed to pass quickly while you were around Wanda, giving you the perfect opportunity to observe her without shame. That must be the reason you were there, right? She didn't ask much from you, so you spent your time soaking up everything that Wanda was. She was brilliant as she created limbs and faces from nothing. You wished you could read her mind, to understand how her brilliant mind worked to create something from nothing. She was magnificent, and you felt honored to witness her work.
"You're so talented," you breathed out in awe as she used her fingers to shape the face of the sculpture.
"It took practice, dear," Wanda murmured, flicking her finger to mark out the cheekbones.
You watched in fascination as she created facial expressions, genuinely impressed by her skill.
"I think you were made to do this," you whispered.
Her eyes left her work swiftly, and she looked at you with a furrowed brow before turning back to the sculpture. She remained silent for so long that you couldn't help but squirm, wondering if an apology was in order. However, you refrained, realizing that your intention was a compliment. Your focus returned to Wanda as she began to speak.
"Would you believe me, my dear, if I told you that ten years ago I never thought I would be doing this? That once up on a time my life was spent preforming on stage, doing what I loved."
Your eyes shifted from her hands to the side of her face. She was frowning, an unusual sight for Wanda. Her usually soft and inviting expression vanished, replaced by a distant look and a clenched jaw with vacant eyes, as if she were somewhere else, remembering a time before you were part of her life.
"On a stage?" you couldn't help but ask, looking at her, waiting and hoping she would open up.
She sighed, almost as if she were returning to herself, coming back from a place she'd rather be than here. With a somber expression, she looked at her work, and your heart twisted. Despite creating something marvelous and possessing an amazing gift, it seemed Wanda couldn't see it herself.
"I never dreamed of hiding away behind closed doors, little one. Can you imagine I was a star once? I was the word on everyone's lips," she said, turning towards you with such intensity that you gasped lightly. "If you believe this to be talent," she continued, waving her hand towards the sculpture with a sneer before locking eyes with you, "then you should have seen me on the stage."
A heavy silence settled between you, and your stomach twisted with the emotions in Wanda's eyes. This was uncharted territory, and you felt a sense of fear. Trying to envision Wanda on a stage made you dizzy; you knew that whatever she did would have been amazing. However, you hesitated to say it, uncertain of what to express. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you wanted to know what happened, what Wanda meant.
"Will you tell me what happened?" you finally dared to ask, clearing your throat awkwardly. "I mean, you don't have to. I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."
She smiled at you fondly before turning her gaze sadly back to the sculpture. You waited nervously, hoping she would open up to you.
"It's not a happy story," she sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Can you forgive me, sweet girl, for being so dramatic? Let's just forget about this, hmm?"
She took your hand, squeezing it softly, and you cursed yourself for waiting too long before asking her. The thought lingered—did your hesitation cause her to retreat, shutting you out? Her thumb caressed your knuckles, and as the light slowly returned to her distant gaze, you decided to let go of the subject. If it meant Wanda wouldn't look so sad, you nodded without saying anything. Of course, you wanted to know what Wanda meant, but for now, you wouldn't push it.
When Wanda let go of your hand and straightened her limbs, deeming her work done for the day, you sprang into action. Anything to escape the clawing questions threatening to burst out of your mouth. You focused on collecting all her tools and bringing them to the sink for cleaning. You wanted Wanda to be happy, and you never wanted to see that shadow fall over her otherwise colorful eyes.
"Aren't you a diligent girl," Wanda murmured fondly. You thought you'd learned to detect the various tones in Wanda's voice, and you were pretty sure she sounded pleased. It sent a pleasurable tingle down your spine.
You cleared your throat, "Just doing what I can."
"Yes, yes, of course, dear. You're doing a marvelous job," Wanda assured you gently. She removed your hands from the water, and you looked at her shyly. She patted your hand before continuing briskly and clearing her throat. "But enough of this. You're not here to be my maid. I believe it's time for you to continue your painting."
You took a deep breath as Wanda wiped your hands with a towel, savoring her gentle touch as she fussed over you.
"All done," she declared and caressed your hand gently. She moved over to the canvases leaning against the wall and removed the one you had started weeks ago with her.
Setting it up on the easel, she turned around, extending her slender fingers, beckoning you closer. "Come to me, my dear."
Your heart raced, and your feet moved instinctively toward her. Her beautiful smile called to you, and you reached out for her warm hand. You cherished the feelings she awakened within you as she guided you to a chair in front of the painting. You weren't sure if she would sit behind you like last time, and you were scared of being disappointed. However, you felt her warmth at your back as she sat down behind you gracefully. You couldn't help but close your eyes as her scent enveloped you. You wished you could stay like this forever.
"Now, what should we create today." Wanda pondered.
You kept your eyes closed, enjoying her low voice and the warm breath traveling across your shoulder and neck as she leaned closer to arrange the colors.
"So, tell me, what colors do you desire this time?" She asked.
You forced yourself to turn your attention to the colors, but your mind felt fuzzy, and you felt no desire to paint. You just wanted to lean back and enjoy the feel of Wanda, happy that she was back to normal.
"All of them," you blurted out when Wanda squeezed your hip in response to your hesitation.
"All of them, you say? Well, isn't that an interesting choice," Wanda chuckled, sounding highly amused by your words. You wanted to groan in misery over your own inability to keep your thoughts clear.
"Well, if we use all the colors and mix them, it would turn brown. But perhaps you want a brown painting," Wanda pondered as she used a brush to flick it over your nose.
You burst out in laughter because a brown painting sounded absolutely horrendous.
"My, my, what a lovely sound," Wanda murmured, her words sending shivers down your spine as she encircled her arm around you and pulled you closer into a hug.
Your laughter turned into giggles as Wanda kept murmuring sweet things against your hair, tickling your skin. You ended up leaning heavily against her as you tried to catch your breath, and Wanda rubbed your stomach soothingly.
"What a giggling girl I have in my studio today. I can't say I mind. Very refreshing indeed." Wanda said fondly as she arranged the colors and you couldn't help but smile.
Wanda kept her arm around you while her warm breath traveled across your neck as she instructed you in how to use different techniques in order for the colors to blend. But even if you put all different colors on the painting it couldn't compare to the colors Wanda brought in to your life. You were relieved that Wanda seemed to be back to her usual self, and it almost felt as if the earlier conversation had never occurred. However, you couldn't shake the lingering presence of her words, as they continued to float around in your mind.
"I believe that will be enough for today, my dear." Wanda's voice was warm as she squeezed you fondly before removing the paintbrush from your hand.
You helped her remove the paint and cleaned the brushes.
"What did I say before, that's enough cleaning." Wanda chuckled.
You smiled shyly and nodded as you used the same towel Wanda had used before secretly wishing she would help you like last time. You couldn't help but watch her as she moved around the studio, her long legs brought her in a brisk pace towards the stairs leading to a loft you hadn't seen yet. But she haven't invited you there so you stayed put waiting for her return.
Wanda's eyes met yours as she came walking down the stairs and you swallowed thickly wondering what would happen now.
"You've been a true delight today, my sweet girl." Wanda reached out her hand to you, beckoning you closer by wiggling her long fingers.
You didn't even hesitate as you walked over to her almost desperate to feel her touch again.
She hummed delighted as she grasped your hand and you enjoyed the warmth of her hand holding yours as she lead you over to a loveseat by the wall.
"I have one more request from you today before I'll let you go." She hummed while gesturing for you to take seat.
"Anything." You blurted out feeling you cheeks heat up.
"Anything? My, my what a bold offer, little one." She murmured with a pleased smile.
You tried to control your breathing as Wanda brought an easel closer and shot you a wink.
"Now I need you to sit still and be pretty for me, can you do that little one?" She asked while moving everything in the order that she wanted before looking up at you.
All you wanted was to spend more time with Wanda so your response was fast and breathy "Oh, yes I suppose."
Wanda hummed again as she sat down and picked up the paintbrush before turning her attention to you.
You tried to sit still but having Wanda's eyes traveling over your body made you fidget. But before she placed her brush on the white canvas she rose gracefully and moved closer to where you were sitting. She was gentle as she moved you in to the pose she wanted you in, which was on the side while laying your head on your hand facing her. You could feel her hand travel over your body moving you and you were pliant under her hands.
"Perfect, yes perfect." She murmured.
You couldn't help but blush at how pleased she sounded as she moved back to the easel. She sat down and begun. At first all you could do was look at her, finding it hard to look away at how she furrowed her brow in concentration or how a stray curl of her hair kept falling in front of her face. She used her wrist at several occasion to remove it but it was stubborn and kept distracting her. You had never felt urge stronger than walking over to her and fold it behind her ear.
But after awhile you started to drift off, you closed your eyes at the sound of her brush making soothing strokes against the canvas and Wanda's melodic hums, it was soothing to hear her and feel her. You wanted nothing more than to spend each day like this, drowning in everything that is Wanda and her passion for the art.
'There's a place for us, a time and place for us.' Wanda sang quietly and melodically, 'Hold my hand and we're halfway there. Hold my hand and I'll take you there.'
You almost gasped as Wanda began to sing softly, having never heard anything as beautiful as this. Wanda's voice was soft as velvet, sweet as honey. It was strong yet carried a controlled fragility. She had a mastery over her voice in a way you had never experienced before. But it wasn't just that. When she sang, it stirred your body, intensifying your heartbeat and causing the hairs on your arms to stand on end. It was as if her voice was calling you to her. Laced with a tragic beauty, her singing captivated you.
'Somehow, Some day, Somewhere!'
You had never heard anything more beautiful than this. Countless questions raced through your mind, but you found yourself unable to articulate a single one. No matter how many times you tried to open your mouth, your voice refused to obey.
The room grew quiet, and the only sound was Wanda's brushstrokes. You wanted to beg her to continue, but a part of you knew she wouldn't.
"That was beautiful," you whispered hoarsely, finally finding the courage to voice your admiration.
"If you say so, darling girl," Wanda replied softly as she moved away from the easel with the painting.
"You should sing all the time," you blurted out, sitting up and looking at her.
She chuckled as she moved around in the backroom.
"Is that what you were doing before? Singing on stage?" you asked excitedly, continuing when you could hear her amusement.
"That's a story for another day." Her voice deepened as she returned, looking tense, and you regretted your questions immediately.
You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you had the chance, Wanda softened her expression. "Do not dare apologize. You have done nothing wrong by being curious. I should never have said anything before, but let's blame the glum weather for my mood and lack of self-restraint around you."
Wanda sounded tired, but her eyes were warm and inviting, so you nodded your head, not wanting to upset her again.
"Are you tired, or would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked, beckoning you to follow her back to the house, and you quickly complied.
"I would love to stay," you said quickly, your heart picking up speed.
Wanda hummed, sounding pleased, and as you entered through the backdoor, you both went to freshen up before meeting up in the kitchen to begin dinner.
Standing in the bathroom, you tried to piece your day together. You had learned so much today, and yet so little at the same time. Wanda confused you even more than before, but you were drawn to her softness and sadness, craving to be near her.
Entering the kitchen, you silently watched her ponder around, taking out ingredients, simply enjoying being part of her life in any way. You could see what must have made Natasha fall in love with her—she was the most interesting person you had met, aside from Natasha.
She turned around, and her eyes found yours. When she smiled, you realized that your thoughts earlier in the day were wrong. Nothing about Wanda's softness and tactile ways served as a substitute for your deprived closeness to your mother. What you wanted and needed from Wanda was deeper than simply wanting her to hold you close and pay attention to you. It both terrified and excited you.