AN: Enjoy!
Vision followed Wanda back to bed, and didn't argue when she pulled him down to lay beside her. However, she seemed nervous to move closer, as though she was afraid of something, possibly hurting him again. Vision, however, was not afraid, not at all. He moved closer without her having to ask, wrapped both his arms and his wings around her, as he always did when she invited him into bed. After a moment, she curled closer to him, her fingers reaching up to gently touch the bandage on his forehead.
"Why are you still so nice to me even when I hurt you?" She murmured.
"You didn't hurt me on purpose" Vision reminded her. "You were having a nightmare, it was an accident."
"I still did it" Wanda frowned, her now green eyes cast downward so that he could not see the tears pooling in them. "I'm a demon. Hurt is what I do. It's what I am. It's all I'm here for, and you'll be much better off when.."
"That is one way to look at things, I suppose" Vision cut her off. "But.. it is not necessarily the only way."
"What do you mean?"
"Well.. The day we met. Why did you save me from Mysterio?"
"I.. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time. I didn't think you deserved to die."
"And I am grateful for that."
"I'm sure you are, Inger" Once she was sure no tears were going to fall, Wanda looked up at him again, slightly puzzled. "What's your point?"
"You are a demon" said Vision, "But it was not something you chose. When you did have a choice, between right and wrong, you chose to do what you believed was the right thing."
"And..?"
"I have been thinking.. Maybe.. That What you are does not matter as much as Who you are. Whatever else you may be, Wanda, I believe that you are a good person."
For the first time in she could hardly remember how long, Wanda felt herself blush, the tiniest smile tugging at her lips.
"It's nice that you think so.. You should be sleeping, you have to go spend another day with a bunch of hormonal teenagers in a few hours."
As if on cue, Vision yawned.
"That is true.. Will you be alright?"
"I'm fine, Vision. Sleep. You don't have to worry about me.."
"I'm afraid I cannot help it.."
Soon after, Vision drifted off to sleep.
Unable to sleep herself for fear of another nightmare, Wanda watched Vision's face as he slept, so relaxed, perfect and peaceful. Wanda didn't even remember what it felt like to sleep so peacefully.
She continued to watch him, and she thought about him. How he'd saved her life and nursed her wounds. How kind and sweet and gentle Vision was when he held her, when he touched her. How he truly let her teach him, and actually listened to what Wanda wanted. The way he looked at Wanda like she was beautiful, and how she knew he wanted to tell her so, except that she wouldn't let him.
She thought of how he had parked himself outside the Bathroom door, just so Wanda knew that she was not alone. Of how he had kissed her, without wanting anything more. That was entirely new to Wanda, having someone kiss her without expecting more from her.
Wanda found herself studying Vision's face, and running her fingers through his soft golden hair, gently enough not to wake him, although he did sigh contentedly. Suddenly wanting to remember every perfect detail of him, of the Angel who saw her as so much more than what she was, or ever believed she could be. The Angel who somehow cared about her in spite of the monster she was.
Wanda found herself wondering what it might have been like to have lost her virginity to him, to someone who actually cared, rather than having it taken roughly against a wall in a dirty alleyway, part of a bargain she'd made to get Pietro out of trouble.
She had never let Pietro know about that, of course, but the event had probably coloured her whole perspective of what sex was, including, until recently, her current arrangement with Vision. Their lessons were just supposed to be a way for Wanda to pay him back for letting her stay, and maybe get her rocks off a few times in the process.
Instead, the damn Inger had challenged her entire fucking world view in a month.
But why? Why the hell did Wanda believe Vision would be so much different than any other man?
He was an Angel, sure, but he was still a man, and be they angel, demon, or human, men were all the same. They only wanted one thing, Wanda knew that well enough. Under his perfect angel exterior, Vision was no different. He was probably only making her think she was because of all the time that the two of them had spent together.
Wanda was most likely imagining the tenderness in his blue eyes when he looked at her.
Imagining that how he held her was the way a person would hold something special, something precious.
Imagining how safe he made her feel.
And even if she wasn't imagining any of it, even if it was all true, it didn't matter. She couldn't let it matter.
Wanda would hurt him. She wouldn't want to, and maybe it wouldn't even be her directly, but she would.
Vision was an angel, and Wanda was a demon.
What she was mattered, even if Vision would like to think otherwise.
If Wanda were to let herself believe that all the things she imagined were true, if she were to let herself love Vision, and someone like Mysterio, or Rumlow, or Killmonger were to find out about it, or even to find out that Wanda was alive..
They would hurt him.
Worse, they would kill him.
Wanda would come home one day to find Vision bloodied and broken, just as she had found her brother. Or else they would kill him in front of her, just for the sick, twisted demonic pleasure of hearing her scream.
For his own good, Wanda couldn't love Vision.
So, she absolutely could not let on that maybe she already did.
Wanda took a shaky breath, burying her face against Vision's chest, and grateful he was sleeping, so that he could not see the tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
