( she hears him draw closer. sees him, too, on the reflection of the machine's glass. wanda wants to become so small, because it hurts her so much how much matt means to her and how he just keeps pushing her away. stupid, she had said, but it wasn't calling him stupid; it was calling herself stupid, for loving someone so distanced from her. she's stupid for thinking that their times in the orphanage wouldn't come to an end, for thinking things and people were eternal instead of ephemeral.
stupid for thinking that matt would go to university, meet new people, have intelligent discussions, grow beyond what the orphanage could offer him, what she could offer him, and still think that wanda was worth all that.
she's angry at him, but does not pull nor push away when his hand is on her arm, gently moving her around towards him. she's stupid for being so weak; to be unable to resist when his warm hands take hold of her, bringing her closer, and isn't she just so stupid for feeling loved and wanted and safe with his arms around her? wanda presses her face to his chest so easily, wraps her arms around him, and clutches so tightly at the hoodie.
it has been so long since she's been held like this, since she's been close to him like this. it hurts so much more than she imagined, and it feels inevitable that this will be the last time this will happen.
crying quietly against the spot between his chest and shoulder, wanda keeps her face hidden, not wanting to let go. listens, without understandingβhow could she ever think so differently of him when she loves him so much? when she's always loved him, flaws and all? when even now, when she's this hurt, she feels like an idiot for not finding any reason to hate him. )
You're wrong.
( she manages, throat tight, a quiet sound. courage flourishes amidst the pain, and wanda knows that she ought to be as transparent and honest as possible, even if he hedges on circumstance of deceit around her, of distance and opaque reasonings. )
You'll always be the Matt that I love. I want... to be so mad at you, but I can't. I'll β always choose to love you.
( and isn't that just the biggest truth she's ever tried to keep buried. pietro knew, how wistfully wanda would look at matt; make comments about it, never teasing her, because he knew without having to be told, that his sister's feelings towards the older boy in the orphanage were the truest thing she's felt since they themselves became orphans. you're happy, he'd remark, after a small interaction with matt, and wanda would smile, looking up with a shrug, her heart filled with warmth.
and, because pietro knew, it meant that wanda understood what she felt, couldn't keep it a secret from herself, either. )
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stupid for thinking that matt would go to university, meet new people, have intelligent discussions, grow beyond what the orphanage could offer him, what she could offer him, and still think that wanda was worth all that.
she's angry at him, but does not pull nor push away when his hand is on her arm, gently moving her around towards him. she's stupid for being so weak; to be unable to resist when his warm hands take hold of her, bringing her closer, and isn't she just so stupid for feeling loved and wanted and safe with his arms around her? wanda presses her face to his chest so easily, wraps her arms around him, and clutches so tightly at the hoodie.
it has been so long since she's been held like this, since she's been close to him like this. it hurts so much more than she imagined, and it feels inevitable that this will be the last time this will happen.
crying quietly against the spot between his chest and shoulder, wanda keeps her face hidden, not wanting to let go. listens, without understandingβhow could she ever think so differently of him when she loves him so much? when she's always loved him, flaws and all? when even now, when she's this hurt, she feels like an idiot for not finding any reason to hate him. )
You're wrong.
( she manages, throat tight, a quiet sound. courage flourishes amidst the pain, and wanda knows that she ought to be as transparent and honest as possible, even if he hedges on circumstance of deceit around her, of distance and opaque reasonings. )
You'll always be the Matt that I love. I want... to be so mad at you, but I can't. I'll β always choose to love you.
( and isn't that just the biggest truth she's ever tried to keep buried. pietro knew, how wistfully wanda would look at matt; make comments about it, never teasing her, because he knew without having to be told, that his sister's feelings towards the older boy in the orphanage were the truest thing she's felt since they themselves became orphans. you're happy, he'd remark, after a small interaction with matt, and wanda would smile, looking up with a shrug, her heart filled with warmth.
and, because pietro knew, it meant that wanda understood what she felt, couldn't keep it a secret from herself, either. )