soulthatwanders | [for Bruce]

[for Bruce]

It's only weird if you make it weird. Don't make it weird.

With that thought firmly in mind, Wanda took a deep breath and knocked on Bruce's door, jacket slung carefully over one arm. She'd put the task of returning it off for as long as she could because she'd secretly been hoping that it might disappear with the rest of Manhattan and she'd be off the hook, but it was apparently native. No such luck there.

Not that she wanted to avoid him forever, of course, but she really had no idea how it might go, and as far as she was concerned, New Year's had proved that her judgment was apparently weirdly impaired where he was concerned. Still, as long as she didn't make a big deal out of anything that had gone down (which was pretty much nothing, anyway), she was fairly sure it would be fine. Why wouldn't it?

"Anyone home?"

Not weird.

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"Oh, all sorts of things," Wanda replied without thinking about it, flashing him a rather deliberate, pointed look as she did so. It had been a long week, and she'd had a lot to think about. "But this- this," she finally went on after a pause, gesturing between them, "isn't really something I can... pursue."

He understands, ultimately, why it might not be the best idea for him to pursue this in the long run, but it's that answer coming from her that gives him pause as he blinks over at her.

"You said it yourself, it is a different life here. But - if I asked you why, would you tell me?"

Wanda seemed to think about that for a second, but there was never really any consideration to be done. "Yeah, yes, of course," she said in a rush, shaking her head as if shaking off a distraction. "It's something I probably should have mentioned a while back anyway, I just... didn't really anticipate this either, you know? And it's not like it's some big secret or anything, it's just that I-" She hesitated, struggling to find a way to explain that wouldn't present this all as some ridiculous, awkward bombshell.

"You know, maybe it's better if I show you. Come for a walk with me?"

His brow furrows in thought, a million more questions springing up to the forefront of his mind when she answers. He's about to start heading towards the door when he remembers his state of dress - or half-dress, that is.

"Just - give me a second," he replies, holding up a hand as if to wordlessly plea with her to stick around before he disappears through the sliding door into the bedroom to rummage around for a clean shirt, stripping off his sweaty one in the process.

Wanda nodded, watching him go (she really needed to stop that) and letting out a long exhale once she was in the clear. That was the hard part, right? She was in the home stretch now, and this relationship was completely salvageable, everyone would win?

Right.

Downing half of her glass of water in one go since her mouth had gone incredibly dry somewhere along the line, she set it down and scrubbed her hands briefly over her face. This was fine. Completely fine.

It isn't as though he has time to shower, but he's been in worse states before. In the end, he settles for giving himself another quick toweling off and then pulls on a clean shirt, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to comb somehow.

When he re-emerges, doing up the last buttons, he looks up at her, expectant and with a small twist of his mouth. "Ready when you are."

Wanda's smile was automatic, easy in spite of her tension, and that was at least one small bit of relief she could hang on to. "Great," she said as she made her way to the door, downright eager to get this over with now that they were so far into it. "Don't worry, this shouldn't take long."

"I don't know if I should be relieved or worried to hear it," Bruce mutters, following her at a respectable distance despite the momentary urge that overwhelms him to find a way to get nearer to her, to pull her in close and breathe in the scent of her hair again.

"You're not taking me out into the jungle to kill me, are you?"

Wanda laughed, tipping her back a bit with it now that she was starting to reapproach something resembling being relaxed around him. "No, but don't think I'm not taking it off the table entirely."

"It goes without saying that I'm capable of defending myself - or someone else is capable of defending himself, more accurately," he points out, falling into step beside her.

"Just in case the thought has crossed your mind recently."

"So I'll have to get creative," Wanda deadpanned, shooting him a sideways glance. "No biggie."

He chuckles at that, a quiet sound, but it's the most at ease he's found himself around her today, and for a while, he just listens to the sounds around them, calmly observing their surroundings and trying to figure out where they are in relation to the rest of the island.

"Something told me you were good at improvisation," he replies, offering a similar glance. "Call it a hypothesis potentially worthy of testing."

"It always seems to work out better than when I plan things," Wanda admitted with a shrug. It was a little sobering, as she steered them in the right general direction, to note how familiar the route between his place and hers was to her at that point. "Case in point, I'm just kinda winging it right now."

"I don't know about that," he says, realizing that in all this time he's never attempted to seek her out. He never attempts to seek anyone out, most of the time, but he's always believed it's safer for every involved if he keeps to himself.

"I can think of at least one or two unplanned events that weren't completely disastrous."

"Only somewhat disastrous, then," Wanda countered, laughing under her breath. "It's a sliding scale."

"I just realized - I don't even know where you live," Bruce suddenly confesses, slightly sheepish with the revelation even though he's only just thought it seconds before.

There'd been a time where he thought it would be better if he didn't, but now he's finding he actually wants to know - for what purpose? Peace of mind? He's not exactly sure.

"Well then you're in luck, because we're almost there," Wanda replied with a quick wink, the sort of action that was really just second nature to her at this point.

"Oh, alright." He's finding that he has to purposefully remind himself to look elsewhere despite his unconscious tendency to glance her way and note small details, like the way her hair catches the light streaming through the trees.

Somehow this can't work. She's said as much, and soon he's going to see why, but he can't fight the gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach, the feeling that he'll be making a mistake if he chooses the wrong way.

Her own hut was a little way off of the walkway, so they never actually met up with it, but it was an easy enough trip either way. "Be it ever so humble," she said upon reaching the small clearing that had been her home for years now, slipping her hands into the pockets of her shorts. Just another little hut like all the rest, downright spartan considering the nicer accommodations that had been cropping up more and more often as of late, although the pair of gargoyles on either side of the door at least made it stand out a little. "Fair warning, I don't entertain very often."

"Nice - gargoyles," Bruce replies, smiling crookedly again. It's like the rest of the huts, mostly, but there's something about the structures that he's realized he prefers over the harshness of the Manhattan apartment he'd been stuck in last month. If anything, living out here, away from the beaten path, reminds him of most of the countries he'd lived in prior to joining the Avengers - far removed from most modern conveniences and technology. Then again, if he wants to get a taste of it here, there's always Stark.

"Does it ever look like I do?" he points out, though he's glancing around and momentarily distracted, which means he very nearly walks into her when he turns toward the front of the hut. "Sorry."

"Oh, just get in," Wanda laughed, rolling her eyes at him as she opened the door. Inside was... well, to be fair, it looked a lot like his place, although the wall-to-wall shelving she'd finally had done up helped out substantially with the clutter. "Still up for miserable story time?"

"Hmm?" He only comes off as the slightly absent-minded professor type because he is, on occasion, but it's only because the inside of the hut draws his attention away from her as he lingers at the fringes of the room.

"Oh, right. I guess there's really no avoiding it now, is there."

"You'd be surprised how good I can be at avoiding things," Wanda muttered, haphazardly clearing off part of the dining table that served as a desk more often than not so she could lean against it. For some reason, she felt odd getting too comfortable. "So I've mentioned that I died, right? Totally my fault, really sucked, etcetera," she started in bluntly. She really did want to get this over with.

"The subject might've come up before," he replies wryly, his mouth pinched into a firm line. For lack of a place to lean against that isn't directly next to her, he settles for standing, arms folding over his chest as he listens.

"I'm guessing that's not the end of the story."

"If only," Wanda said humourlessly, sighing. She still wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Even after so long, it wasn't an easy topic. "Well, after the fact, so the story goes -- I obviously wasn't present for any of this -- Shaman, that was my teammate, Mike, did one of his little magic tricks and preserved the body, since he thought they could get me back. Long story short, they did, but my body -- really more of a statue at that point -- got destroyed in the meantime, leaving me... homeless, for lack of a better word. With me so far?"

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