@thiscrimsonsoul:
Hours and hours of work and all Wanda could do was sigh and frown. She stood over a very large deep dish pan of lasagna that she’d made herself, staring down at it. It had just come out of the oven, and it smelled wonderful. Oh sure, she’d created some of the ingredients with her magic, like the cheeses and tomatoes and things that she either couldn’t go out to buy or couldn’t make herself, but she’d made a lot of it from scratch. She made the tomato sauce with tomatoes, spices, and mushrooms. She made the dough for the noodles and rolled and cut them herself. She’d been up since very early, deciding to do as much of it from scratch as possible. It passed the time, gave her something to do, and distracted her from her thoughts… but it was also cathartic, considering the person she was making it for.
But that was why Wanda frowned now. America wouldn’t come back to see her. She said she would, but… why would she have said anything different? Placate the evil witch so that she won’t be angry, right? Wanda had merely smiled, not wanting to necessarily encourage America to come back to see her. After all, it was forbidden, and she didn’t want the poor girl getting into trouble on her account. And yet… she did want America to visit again. Wanda was lonely, and she had so much guilt over what she’d done to her. Talking to America had been very healing for her, and she hoped that maybe in time it could become so for America as well.
And so the entire morning she’d been telling herself that she’d make something nice for the teenager, something she’d enjoy. She likes pizza, but they want her to eat healthy, so… lasagna seems like a good choice. It was fun, cooking for someone again. She didn’t have her brother, her husband, or her children anymore, but here was someone who needed a good meal and it felt good to provide it. But she isn’t coming. The intrusive thought dampened Wanda’s happiness. Maybe it should. Maybe you should stop feeling happy and accept that you’re a terrible pers-”
There was a knock at her door, pulling her out of her own head. Wanda looked up from the steaming pan of lasagna with wide eyes, just watching… until she saw the knob turn and… in stepped America. Wanda instantly felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Hi!” she said before she could think better of just calling out to her like that. “You… came back,” she said with no small amount of shock, stepping out of the kitchen nook and smiling at America with such gratitude. “I-I made you lasagna. It just came out of the oven a little while ago, so it’s still really hot, but… yeah,” she said, gesturing to it sitting on the kitchen counter. “You said you liked pizza, but at least they can’t argue that this doesn’t have some nutritional value to it.” She smiled, and although it was shaky, it was happy.
"What's lasagna?"
America can't stop the question from tumbling out of her mouth, doesn't even think of the implication of the question, really doesn't even think at all. She can smell something good - something that smells almost like the pasgeta she'd had...so many universes ago, when she'd been young enough and foolish enough to be thrown into someone else's home and unable to get out. (She doesn't like to think about that universe, but it had good food. Like the pasgeta. It had not, however, felt good to be in someone else's home.)
"And, uh, of course, I came back? I mean, I said I would. I'm not gonna just leave you hanging."
She'd thought about it. America won't lie; she definitely thought about it. Like - why keep tempting fate like this? But if...if Wanda hadn't killed her last time, when she had every opportunity to do so with no one the wiser (because who would think that America had gone into the forbidden wing of Kamar-Taj and decided to spend time with the witch), then...then she probably wouldn't this time either, right?
But America also prepared herself a little better this time, too. She'd left a note, for one thing, tucked into her room, so that if she goes missing for too long, then they'll know she's here. That seemed like a good idea. Puts a bit of a time limit on how long she can stay because she'll need to go get rid of it eventually but. It's something.
She'd also made the foolish mistake of asking Wong if the library had any books on witchcraft. He'd looked at her weird and asked what she needed it for. Nothing. Then he'd patted her back and told her she was safe here (did he know? he had to know. what a liar) and didn’t give her any books on witchcraft. Which was fine because Kevin did, but still.
America shrugs a rainbow unicorn mini-backpack off of her back but keeps it slung over one shoulder. "It's, uh. I'd get lonely if I were stuck in here all day every day and couldn't leave. And really, really bored. So, um. Yeah, I came back." She presses her lips together and looks away, not ashamed but uncomfortable with her own answer. She doesn't want to talk about it. "Anyway. What's lasagna?"
