His arms were crossed as he stood by the door, his bright eyes were cold and grey, "And I thought we were at least trying to have some sort of trust between us."
                              
"We are," Wanda walked behind him, his gaze following her as she closed the door.
                              
"Then why did I see quick blue streaks following me around all morning?" Stephen had noticed Pietro Maximoff's trail around the streets, zooming past a few miles away from him as he walked Christine to her car.
                              
Wanda was caught and so were her words in her throat; she struggled to think of what to say, "I wanted to know where you were, I was worried, and...you can imagine my relief when I hear that you've been with Christine Palmer the whole time."
                              
Stephen scoffed, "Are you jealous, Maximoff? I assure you, Christine and I's relationship is solely amicable."     
                              
"Ah, so you give all your friends passionate hugs?" 
                              
"Passionate is an overstatement," Stephen had uncrossed his arms, using them to exaggerate his point, "Can't say the same for you and Vision."
                              
"What about him?" Wanda stared straight into his eyes, she was baffled he even knew, "Vizh and I barely even know each other."
                              
"But you've gotten to, right?" She could spot the smug smile on the edge of his lips, "He likes you."
                              
"Oh come on, we're just friends!" Wanda cried out in frustration, running a hand over her head.   
                              
"You call him Vizh! What is that?" Stephen started to get loud too, the room was mostly filled with their shouts.
                              
"A nickname."
                              
"A nickname? Oh Jesus, Wanda, he's not even a real person!"
                              
"How dare you say that," Wanda knew Vision was a person, he was one of the most decent ones she had ever met, "He is."
                              
"So, you're fucking him then? Is that it?" Stephen spat, only asking in hopes it wasn't true.
                              
"No!" Wanda shook her head, "Of course not!"
                              
"He doesn't even have genitalia..." Stephen raised an eyebrow, "Does he?"
                              
"I..." Wanda tried to think about the logistics of it all, it was probably a definite no. 
                              
"Exactly."
                              
"That doesn't matter."
                              
"What can he offer you that I can't?" Stephen waited for an answer, his heart pounded in his chest, was she seriously considering this?
                              
"Love, support, trust and oh yeah, he's actually here most of the time," Wanda hadn't even thought about these things herself, she didn't even know she had these kinds of feelings for Vision, "And what could you offer me?"
                              
"Well, isn't obvious? Emotional aside..." Stephen was close to her now, she could feel his breath on her face, she forced her eyes not to travel further, forced herself not to tell him to 'shut up,' and just kiss her - she was supposed to be angry, "An actual dick for starters..."
                              
"Relationships don't require you sticking your genitalia in someone to work," Wanda sounded hesitant, almost as if she was convincing herself.
                              
"I know you don't believe that." Wanda felt her heart pound, was he still reading her mind?
                              
"Why would you think that?"
                              
"Because it didn't when you were with me."
                              
"What?" 
                              
"Come on, Maximoff," Stephen groaned, "You were very nearly on begging to sleep with me..."
                              
"Are you serious?" She was angry now, she clenched together her fists, calming the streams of red she felt building up in her palms, "What the hell are you talking about?"
                              
"You wanted to take my pants off in the streets, Maximoff," Stephen was clearly just as enraged as she was, "I think that shows some level of desperation."
                              
"I was half-drunk!" Wanda shouted, "Okay, but you knew that. This isn't about that, this is about you. How you have been lying to me about everything, ever since we met."
                              
"I..." His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, "It's complicated."
                              
"Yeah, tell me about," Wanda said, "I actually thought we were starting to..."
                              
"Starting to what?"
                              
"Never mind..." Wanda held a hand on her head, "You told me when we met that you keep a watch list of threats to this world, right?"
                              
"Yes," Stephen stood in the same place, not wanting to enrage her any further by trying to touch her.
                              
"I found out the reason you came to me in the first place was because you saw me die. So, why shouldn't I believe that the only reason you decided to find me in the first place was to make sure you did the job yourself?" 
                              
Wanda felt her eyes water when he avoided contact with him, he ducked his head, his curls fell down onto his forehead, he let out a long sigh, "I was only trying to help."
                              
"Then how is everything somehow..." Wanda's voice broke, "Worse?"
                              
"I told you...it will get better," Stephen placed a hand on her shoulder, "With time."
                              
"I've waited enough time," Wanda was being stubborn, that was a personality trait usually reserved for Stephen, "I don't see how this can get any better. This an end, I'm done."
                              
"You're done?" Stephen scoffed in disbelief, "That's it? You're just going to throw away everything we've done! All the training we've went through-"
                              
"It doesn't matter, Stephen!" She stood at the doorway, back turned to him, "It doesn't matter..."
                              
"Wanda?" His voice made her stop in her tracks, "Stay safe."
                              
She didn't even turn around, he was left looking at her curled hazel tresses, getting the view of her clothes from behind - a simple black skirt, with long socks and boots. He had memorised every inch of her body. 
                              
He could perceive the noise of her considering answering, maybe even turning back to give him a kiss or a hug, anything at all. 
                              
But she didn't.