themaximoffxwitchâ:
Wanda wanted to be unbothered by waking up alone, but she couldnât. It bothered her that after everything, after all she had done to keep them safeâwhen they finally had each other again, Quentin had left. If he had asked she would have come, she wouldnât have refused him to see his familyâs home. If her home in Sokovia had survived the bombs sheâd be there too, sheâd want to be in the place that made the most sense. It just hurt he hadnât wanted her to be with him.
It didnât take long for Wanda to find him, she recognised the energy Adrion radiated, even when locked away as Quentin held consciousness. She stepped through the portal Adrion had showed her, and stood behind Que as he took in the devastation of his home. His voice was sad, filled with pain. But Wanda didnât flinch at his tone, didnât so much as blink.
Instead, she looked away and cleared the stiffness of her throat. âIâd find you anywhere.â
His eyes turned down, not wanting to look at the girl when he knows that he did something terrible in leaving her. Basically betraying the one person that remained by his side throughout everything. Even against her own twin, and where was he? Wallowing in self-pity when sheâd been through countless horrors while heâd been living through a fantasy that was built in his own mind. A prison.
His fingers pushed on the rusted gate, letting the awful creaking fill the silence as he took the steps towards his home; stopping just before the porch, his lips pursing as his eyes fell on the dead garden. âThis garden was my mumâs prized possession,â Quentin had muttered. It felt like just yesterday that heâd heard his motherâs laugh, saw her smile; but now he didnât know what was made up and what was real. He took the steps up to the porch, stopping just before the door when he saw the old police tape carried in the wind where it was ripped from time.
Turning the knob to the front door, the creak filled the silence of the house. It was dark, cold, uninviting-- something his mother swore that their home would never be. âThey really are gone,â Quentinâs voice echoed in the space, though he didnât bare to walk further in. He knew what happened in this house. âHe killed them all, and because of us, you lost your family,â Quentin gave a rueful chuckle before his lips fell into a frown, ârather Shakespearian, isnât it.â He looked at Wanda for the first time-- the sadness etched in the weary lines of his face, âI donât know how to fix this, Wanda. I want to fix this-- for you-- but I donât know how.â