At least he's come back. Every time Pietro leaves, Wanda frets it'll be the last time. And yet—she still tells him to go. She'll be fine; she much prefers her floors to remain intact and not bear holes in them from his restlessness.

"And you did not bring back the deer?"

Tsking, Wanda shakes her head. Despite wanting to feign disappointment, she doesn't wipe her smile from her face. Can't. Pietro is back and she permanently smiles now. She doesn't know how to frown, be sad, or even exist without the pinch to her cheeks.

Approaching the couch, she tapped the toe of his shoes. "For that, feet off the couch."

If he'd brought back the deer, he'd have a hell of a lot more waiting for him. Maybe a drink with an umbrella. A little snack. Instead, all he has is Wanda tapping his shoe and magically playing with his shoelace, turning that into a bit of a knot in itself.