Trust | Wanda Maximoff

An: Sorry guys I got hit by a car.. well a truck... but heres the next chapter. If none of this make sense... it's the oxy they put me on.

The car hummed softly as it cut through the stillness of the night, the dark road ahead illuminated only by the twin beams of the headlights. Kennedy's hands were steady on the wheel, her gaze fixed on the stretch of empty highway in front of them. She was calm, her posture relaxed, but there was a quiet intensity about her—a focus that Wanda couldn't look away from.

Wanda sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning back against the cushion, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her eyes fluttered closed every so often, but they always reopened, sneaking glances at Kennedy. She wasn't trying to stare, not really, but it was impossible not to.

Four years.

That's how long it had been since Wanda had seen her, really seen her. She let her eyes trace over Kennedy's profile, relearning the sharp angles of her face, the curve of her jawline, the way her lips pressed into a thin line as she concentrated on the road. Her hair was lighter now, the sun having kissed it with a honeyed hue.

Kennedy looked older, more mature. Wanda could see it—how the years had etched themselves into her in subtle ways, ways that only someone who truly knew her could recognize. And it struck Wanda, as she stared out at the road ahead but couldn't stop glancing sideways, just how much could change in four years. Not just in Kennedy, but in herself too.

She caught herself wondering what Kennedy saw when she looked at her. Did she see the same Wanda, or someone completely different? Did she see the cracks, the scars left by everything that had happened?

Kennedy's voice cut through the silence, low and steady. "You should try to sleep" she said, her tone casual but carrying a hint of concern. Her eyes stayed on the road, but there was a softness in her voice that made Wanda's chest tighten.

"I'm fine" Wanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper, though she didn't move to sit up straighter or try to convince Kennedy otherwise. She let the words hang there, her eyes stealing another glance at Kennedy, committing every detail to memory.

And Kennedy, as if sensing Wanda's gaze, let the corner of her mouth twitch into the faintest of smiles. "You're staring" she said lightly, her voice teasing but without accusation.

Wanda looked away quickly, heat rising to her cheeks as she muttered, "No, I'm not."

Kennedy's faint smile lingered as she kept her eyes on the road, her fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. She didn't press Wanda further, letting the moment settle into a familiar silence.

Wanda shifted slightly in her seat, her gaze drifting back to Kennedy's profile. The question had been burning in her chest for miles, and finally, she couldn't hold it back any longer. "Will things..." Wanda hesitated, her voice quiet but steady, "...ever not be awkward between us?" Her words were tinged with frustration, a vulnerability she couldn't entirely hide. "I don't like this. It's... strange, and I hate it."

Kennedy didn't respond right away. She kept her focus on the road, her expression unreadable as the car's headlights sliced through the darkness. After a beat, she let out a soft sigh, her voice calm but thoughtful. "I don't either" she admitted, her tone carrying a weight of its own. She glanced over at Wanda briefly, her eyes meeting hers for just a moment before returning to the road. "But I think... it's just going to take time."

Wanda's lips pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed. "It's just—" she started, but the words faltered, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "It feels like we're walking on eggshells around each other. And I hate that. I hate feeling like I don't know how to talk to you anymore."