[nothing comes back for a while. this doesn't strike wanda as odd in any way; the wait and the tension are part of the game that she and homelander play together now, for however that had started to come to pass.
when a message does come back, though, and her eyes flick to the username —
she panics.
it's bob on the other end. bob, who she doesn't have this kind of dynamic with at all, because what they have is gentler. sweeter. she doesn't want to lose that.
but it's out there, isn't it?]
You can? I mean, I know you can, because you've always been good to me.
[oh no, that just makes it worse. which is — a thought she tries not to spiral down, but instead, she breathes, slowly, calmly, as she reads his message again.
[ like, not fully out of line? at least not here, a place in which he arrived dressed in almost nothing except for a dog collar. just out of character, with how they spoke even on voyeur, which makes him use his single braincell to conclude — ]
not meant for me shit i am so sorry wanda i can delete it right now? or delete it in front of you? you and armand can probably even delete it from my brain if you want
[she lingers over his question, one that's still painful to think about in some ways, but in others, it isn't so much. she wants him to know about her life, wants to share it.]
I grew up in Novi Grad, which was the capital city of Sokovia. It was high up in the mountains, so the winters would be very cold. Sometimes even just walking outside in January would make your face feel numb.
[ he smiles down at his phone, jaw cresting his chest. wanda makes a lot of things easier. talking about himself. being brave enough to seek more of her. ]
sunshine state all the way ✌️
[ morbidly funny to think they gave him the power of a million suns or whatever. ]
that makes sense to me is there anything you especially miss from home?
[ so he can know what shape the hole inside her takes. so he can try to find the thing she’s missing, even though he knows these things can never be filled. ]
[she thinks about this for a minute — not because she feels self-conscious (he's seen her practically naked now, after all), but because that's the time it takes to find the way she wants to phrase this.]
I miss when things felt simple, I guess. I know they never really were, because I could always hear what was going on outside our window every night, [the fighting, the protests she'd later become involved in herself, the guns] but Mama and Papa tried.
[and it does feel lighter, with that not being held so tightly in her chest.]
I also miss kajmak. Butter on toast isn't the same.
[ wanting to return to a world of simplicity and safety that might never have been real. it's why he always ends up in the attic.
her melancholy bleeds through the message. words he can hear in the accent she's sanded down. ]
kajmak i'll have to look it up
[ he'll do more than that. next week, at breakfast, one of the staff brings out kajmak for wanda. a special request, from an earnest guest who'd stopped by the prep kitchen after a morning run some days ago. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
done.
[ typing. retyping. brain sticking a little on good. ]
if this is what i get for not being good
i can be very
very
good
no subject
when a message does come back, though, and her eyes flick to the username —
she panics.
it's bob on the other end. bob, who she doesn't have this kind of dynamic with at all, because what they have is gentler. sweeter. she doesn't want to lose that.
but it's out there, isn't it?]
You can? I mean, I know you can, because you've always been good to me.
[oh no, that just makes it worse. which is — a thought she tries not to spiral down, but instead, she breathes, slowly, calmly, as she reads his message again.
and she starts typing.]
That wasn't too much?
no subject
i mean
it was a little whoa
but not like
[ like, not fully out of line? at least not here, a place in which he arrived dressed in almost nothing except for a dog collar. just out of character, with how they spoke even on voyeur, which makes him use his single braincell to conclude — ]
not meant for me
shit
i am so sorry wanda
i can delete it right now? or delete it in front of you? you and armand can probably even delete it from my brain if you want
no subject
It wasn't, but you don't have anything to be sorry for. This wasn't your fault.
[what he offers next just proves her point. sweet, kind, good bob.]
I don't want to go into your mind, either. And you
[her hand slips, and it takes her a moment to get the phone back. she might as well finish the thought, now that it's already been started.]
You don't have to delete it or anything. I trust you.
no subject
i’ll hold onto it
[ which is both sweet and weirdly intimate. ]
i really didn’t mind it, for the record
so maybe i can earn it
not in a horny way
i mean kinda
but i do still owe you that date first
no subject
I'm glad that you didn't mind it, and I'm actually glad that you have it.
[as opposed to... stephen strange? what a nightmare that would've been.
a n y w a y:]
The lake is still frozen, if you're up for trying it. I think ice skating and hot chocolate would be perfect, and from there? We can see what happens.
no subject
after breakfast
[ at her door, like in the movies. he has the sudden thought that he should buy flowers, even in the dead of winter. ]
get our skates on together
see if the avengers' finest can handle a little ice
no subject
Or it was empty. It isn't now.
[just imagine bob penciled in on a little nonexistent calendar.]
Did you find skates that fit? I can always conjure some if you didn't.
no subject
[ since he is apparently in the average height range for male superheroes and also manor guests. ]
was it cold where you grew up?
no subject
[she lingers over his question, one that's still painful to think about in some ways, but in others, it isn't so much. she wants him to know about her life, wants to share it.]
I grew up in Novi Grad, which was the capital city of Sokovia. It was high up in the mountains, so the winters would be very cold. Sometimes even just walking outside in January would make your face feel numb.
no subject
i can’t even imagine that kinda cold
[ but even bob reynolds knows what happened to sokovia. ]
is it hard
being reminded of it, i mean
no subject
Where did you say you were from? Florida?
[a gentle tease, because of course she knows where he's from; bob talks about it.]
It's still hard sometimes. I'm not sure it's something that'll ever stop being hard, but I'd rather be reminded of it than forget it.
no subject
sunshine state all the way ✌️
[ morbidly funny to think they gave him the power of a million suns or whatever. ]
that makes sense to me
is there anything you especially miss from home?
[ so he can know what shape the hole inside her takes. so he can try to find the thing she’s missing, even though he knows these things can never be filled. ]
no subject
I miss when things felt simple, I guess. I know they never really were, because I could always hear what was going on outside our window every night, [the fighting, the protests she'd later become involved in herself, the guns] but Mama and Papa tried.
[and it does feel lighter, with that not being held so tightly in her chest.]
I also miss kajmak. Butter on toast isn't the same.
🎀
[ wanting to return to a world of simplicity and safety that might never have been real. it's why he always ends up in the attic.
her melancholy bleeds through the message. words he can hear in the accent she's sanded down. ]
kajmak
i'll have to look it up
[ he'll do more than that. next week, at breakfast, one of the staff brings out kajmak for wanda. a special request, from an earnest guest who'd stopped by the prep kitchen after a morning run some days ago. ]