[as billy speaks, and goes on and on about his husband, wanda feels the apples of her cheeks straining as the smile on her face grows and grows. she imagines it all, she imagines this young loveβand how it warms her heart. a boy who was a misfit, an outcast, finding someone who saved him.
wanda shakes her heads and then nods, not wanting to interrupt him, but she agrees. vision had saved her, even if he, too, would have said that she did all that herself.
perhaps it's significant, that broken and hurt people like them, they find strength in someone with swathes of kindness to give. he had wanted to stay with billy, and that'sβ
well.]
He sounds β really nice.
[wanda can't help it, that amidst her smile, there are also tears. because, despite herself, despite trying to hold on to the pieces resembling her reality, she still feels a lot like a cracked mirror; filtering in information, feeding in to lofty daydreams of being a mother who could raise her children and watch them grow. this, what billy tells her, fits into a narrative that lights up in her brain, if just momentary, about how it all clicks, how she could see her billy grow, find love despite adversity, and go into adventures of incredible worldly consequence, because of course he would, as the son of the scarlet witch.
her hand tightens on his, thumb gently caressing over his knuckles, her eyes envisioning this far-off fantasy. but, she knows it's a fantasy, and after a moment, her focus returns, and she slowly pulls her hand back.]
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wanda shakes her heads and then nods, not wanting to interrupt him, but she agrees. vision had saved her, even if he, too, would have said that she did all that herself.
perhaps it's significant, that broken and hurt people like them, they find strength in someone with swathes of kindness to give. he had wanted to stay with billy, and that'sβ
well.]
He sounds β really nice.
[wanda can't help it, that amidst her smile, there are also tears. because, despite herself, despite trying to hold on to the pieces resembling her reality, she still feels a lot like a cracked mirror; filtering in information, feeding in to lofty daydreams of being a mother who could raise her children and watch them grow. this, what billy tells her, fits into a narrative that lights up in her brain, if just momentary, about how it all clicks, how she could see her billy grow, find love despite adversity, and go into adventures of incredible worldly consequence, because of course he would, as the son of the scarlet witch.
her hand tightens on his, thumb gently caressing over his knuckles, her eyes envisioning this far-off fantasy. but, she knows it's a fantasy, and after a moment, her focus returns, and she slowly pulls her hand back.]
Thank you for sharing that with me.