@scxrletsoul | cont.
She was talking in her sleep
That had been his first clue that something wasn’t right. Bucky had turned and found her tossing in her sleep, obviously caught in the midst of a dream. He listened to her mumble, caught a name.
He had known right away it was a nightmare, listened to her talk to a man long dead. He reached for her, but she moved away, and he moved with her, trying to wake her without touching, just in case she lashed out. But, of course, Wanda didn’t need to use her limbs to do such a thing.
A book hit Bucky full in the side of the head, knocking him backwards. The next few things he managed to dodge, eventually managing to get a grip on her wrists, calling her name desperately. He winced at the sound of the mirror breaking, but didn’t turn to look. At least she hadn’t tried to throw him in her sleep, which was a positive in his book.
But then she was awake, and he felt relief, immediately releasing her to cup her face.
“Yeah, Wanda, it’s me,” he whispered, bringing his face close to hers, using his thumbs to wipe her cheeks. “It’s okay, it was just a dream.”
