#lovemethemcoconuts

She liked the silence.

It was not that Wanda preferred to be away from her brother, whose mind is spewing a constant array of emotions and thoughts. At times, the silence terrified her. The first time she was immersed into silence, pure silence, was on the war grounds of Sokovia. As chaotic and turbulent as the world around her was, the twin sister had felt the silence that permeated through her head. And she was terrified.

Though, this was a different type of silence. The training room blocked out the sounds of the outside world and the lack of others’ presences gave her relief from the threads of emotions and thoughts that danced in the world around her. While it would be short-lived, Wanda would take contentment in it for the shortest of minutes.

In front of where she sat, against the cold marble floor, the metal chair danced on a single leg. It spun with a constant motion, devoid of friction and gravity, all except for the faint ribbons of scarlet that lingered at its edges. The brunette watched it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. And in those moments, the magic did not seem to chaotic.

It was not that some information did not exist; only that most people did not know where to look.  Everything leaves a trace as long as it was breathing. “So, tell me, what did he call himself again?” Natasha never forget information. She simply needed to hear it again. “Ant-Man,” The faintest tug at the corner of her lips could be seen as she entered the two words into the database. Nothing. That just meant she needed to search harder.

“Alright,” Her steps were silent as the redhead passed the agent that stood rigidly in the presence of the spy. They always found formality to be necessary when Natasha’s posture implied casualty and even hints of playfulness. “Keep your eyes peeled and your lips sealed, you know the rules.” The man did not relax his posture until the woman was out of the room and the door slammed shut behind her. “Hypocrite,” The faint word was whispered under his breath as he stepped toward the door. After all, he was given an explicit order from the Avenger not to speak of this to the Captain, but at the end of the day, he reported to the spy. Almost all the eyes and ears did.

The door, he regrettably found, was opened with just a crack.

“Oh, and grab me the surveillance tapes for Sectors C6, H3 and E5,” Somewhere in the depths of his guts, he knew the spy had heard the faint insult even when he was met with the apathetic demeanor upon opening the door. If she did, the woman showed no signs of it. When those green eyes rose from the tablet, he found the eerie sensation of being looked through rather than at. “Understood,” That was the last time he was saying anything about Natasha Romanoff.

“Glad we have an understanding,” The agent would not find the faintest hint of amusement that played in her eyes as she stepped away from the room - truly this time. The facility lacked sources of entertainment, so Natasha had to resort to creating her own. Of course, she has a strange and twisted sense of amusement and currently, it was directed at Sam’s pitiful defeat that she was not supposed to know about. Did he expect anything less?

“Looks like you’ve got a nasty insect bite there,” It almost sounded like genuine concern, except that she never once looked up from her tablet. Her voice was as casual as if Natasha was greeting him. She knew precisely where to find the man, but passed it off as if it was a casual encounter. “Might want to get that looked at, ant bites can be painful.” The deadpan sarcasm was familiar in the presence of the Russian assassin.  On the lighted screen of the tablet, the faint beep signalled the arrival of the footages she requested.