explosion | OPEN POST.

[Pietro tries his best to be patient, while Wanda continues clinging and he's trapped between her and the stove, and the partially squished slice of bread drifts through the air so slowly. It settles into the slot finally on the second try, and it's only when the lever clicks and nothing terrible happens than he realises he was waiting for that, focusing so much on what Wanda was doing just in case he had to fix it. He almost issues a compliment for this small success, but he's done enough of that for this morning.]

I want that one.

[He chooses to argue instead, for no reason but to dispel any tension that might be left.]

So don't burn it.

[Reaching over his shoulder with the spatula, Pietro gently taps it against the top of Wanda's head, not entirely oblivious to the fact he's getting bits of egg in her hair.]

Are you going to let go? You're crowding me.

[His hand is still on hers.]

I don't want to.

[ And that's very, very true. Wanda never wants to let go of Pietro. Letting go of him means being alone, and she's had enough of that during their time with HYDRA to last many, many lifetimes.

But she scrunches her nose and reluctantly pulls away, brushing her fingers through her hair and flicking the egg at him. ]

You got egg in my hair.

[ Rather than wander to the loaf of bread to get the other slice out, Wanda stands a little away from him so as not to crowd him and points her finger very much like Sabrina Spellman at the bread. She furrows her brows in concentration as she easily pulls the slice away from the loaf and floats it more confidently through the air. She drops it on the counter beside the toaster.

When it dings, she doesn't move to grab a plate. She does as she had done so before, feeling a burst of confidence because of Pietro's encouragement. She opens the cupboard, telekinetically gently pulls two plates out, and places them on the counter. His squashed bread with burnt tips follows with her placing it on the plate she's designated as his and she slots her slice of bread into the toaster and pushes down on the lever.

She smiles proudly at him. ]

I'm getting better at it. One day I could do all the chores from the couch while I watch television.

Did I?

[There are no forthcoming apologies for the egg, even as she retaliates. Once Wanda moves away to give him more room, Pietro attempts to pay more attention to finishing breakfast, but glances over every few seconds to keep an eye on things, especially once the plates are out of the cupboard, and he's ready to rush over there and catch them should Wanda drop them. She doesn't even fumble, and when she looks so pleased about it, Pietro smiles back awkwardly like he's trying not to but can't help it.]

Don't get ahead of yourself. You got lucky. Tomorrow, you will be breaking dishes all over the floor.

[He waves her off, though he does like hearing her have some kind of ambition, even if it's simply to use her powers for domestic and mundane things. He's well aware it's the kind of life she wants, but he has a hard time considering it an actual possible future, despite having participated in some less-than-ideal form of it for years. His thoughts are just never there, as if their lives are still in some temporary flux and Pietro keeps waiting for something else. Turning off the stove, he takes little care with distributing his cooking to plates she'd set out - it leaves much to be desired, just an entire carton's worth of eggs, the yolks runny in places, fully cooked through in others, and liberally 'sprinkled' with far too much black pepper and turmeric. Wanda gets two of them slid onto her plate, looking sad and barren in comparison when Pietro piles the rest on top of the misshapen toast for himself.]

[ When her toast pops up, she doesn't move to go and retrieve it from the toaster. With a pointed finger, she drops it onto her plate, smiling widely at how seamless that felt. It'd been a touch wobbly, but it hadn't fallen to the floor this time.

Cocking her brow at his plate, she moves to grab it. ] This one is clearly mine.

[ But she tries to steal both of the plates to take to the table, not wanting Pietro to have to burden himself with such a mundane task after the took the time to cook them an assortment of eggs. She's grateful that he's given her at least one runny one—she much prefers to dip her toast into it and frustrate him than to eat the entire egg. ]

Hurry up before I drop your dish all over the floor.

[ Because she wants the chairs pulled out, they pull out themselves. ]

If that's yours, you have to eat it all. After I made it for you, it's only polite.

[Pietro rolls his eyes as she walks away, and makes a show of trailing behind, though it annoys him to do so. Grabbing his chair firmly, he leaves that sluggish display behind to sit quickly, half expecting Wanda to pull it out from under him with one twitch of a finger. He slides her plate towards him, she'd chosen the one she wanted, hadn't she?]

Oh, no.

[ She shakes her head as she chuckles. She cannot eat all of this. There are too many eggs! And there's so much to eat… She pushes his plate toward him and eyes hers, wondering if she can inconspicuously steal it. ]

This is yours. You slaved away over the stove—and it is your birthday. I insist you have it.

[ It's only polite, of course—and that's what Wanda is: polite. She pushes the plate toward him, smiling sweetly. ]

Well, if you insist.

[He'll take that plate back, and for a moment act like he's going to eat that and Wanda's meal too, keeping her plate close to his his and hunching over a bit. Completely ignoring her, he cuts off a large piece of overcooked egg and toast with his fork. Then he looks up, and pushes her plate back towards her like he's offering her scraps as an afterthought, though it's offset by his his foot running up her leg under the table.]

I can part with that much. You should eat something.

[ She scrunches up her nose and makes a face at him as he claims her plate. Grateful that she doesn't have to steal it from right out beneath his nose, she tugs it closer to her in case he has any ideas. He has long arms and he's quick, but she thinks she can defeat him when needed. ]

I eat.

[ Not as much as him, granted. His stomach is a bottomless pit, something she thinks the sceptre had taken into account before he had become faster than a bullet.

She picks up her knife and fork and slices into her egg to make the yolk spill. Tearing into her toast, she dips it and smiles happily. ]

I could eat you beneath the table, but I don't to spare your feelings. I'm quite nice.

[ She considers closing her legs, but Wanda parts them and extends her leg to try and touch his other one. If she responds, he'll win this game—and Wanda doesn't want him to win this particular one. ]

[He snorts, trying to imagine Wanda even attempting to eat the amount of food he does in a day.]

You never did like to show off.

[Not nearly as much as Pietro does, not in the same way, Wanda's theatrics of a far less boisterous and self-important nature. She's issuing some kind of challenge with that drag of her foot over his calf, and he doesn't react for more than a split-second, one small twitch, then continuing on with what he'd started, determined to make her break first.]

There's no room for me to when you show off all the time.

[ She smiles at him, not dropping her gaze to beneath the table. It's no secret that Wanda likes to hide behind Pietro. He's twelve minutes older and taller, and he'd been who she had hid behind when Stark's bomb kept beeping when her television had finally lost power. It's safe in his shadow, but it's also safe being in the wide open in front of him.

When he doesn't react to her foot, she applies a little more pressure as she slides her toes up his lower leg and presses her foot against his knee. Wanda eats her toast, pretending that she's not trying to make him fidget in his seat. ]

[Pietro curls his toes and presses his foot harder against the floor, trying to keep his leg still when Wanda hits one spot at his knee - it's barely any pressure, but it makes him want to jerk his leg back in reflex. He slides his way further up her leg too in retaliation, only reaching higher has his knee hitting the table from the underside. The soft thudding noise goes ignored as Pietro pretends they're doing nothing here but eating.]

Why do you do that? It's disgusting.

[He waves his hand disapprovingly at Wanda dipping her toast in the egg yolk. He's been eating pieces of toast with egg together and it's exactly the same thing, but there's no acknowledgement of it. Starting any sort of argument or complaint is just a distraction for himself.]

[ Wanda smiles and withholds her amused snort. Two can play at this game of pretend, perhaps her better than him considering all the play pretend she has under her belt. ]

Because you don't like it.

[ And she makes it a point to push her next small piece of toast into the egg yolk and eat it with a wide smile. If it's so disgusting, why does it taste so good and why are you eating it the same way? ]

Mm. Deliciously disgusting.

[ Wanda wishes to see him hit his knee again. She pushes her foot past his knee and along his upper thigh, applying some more pressure. Just in case he can't feel it. ]

You are a child.

[He sighs in exasperation after she's admitted she does it solely because she thinks it annoys him, and he admonishes her with that as if he isn't equally as juvenile when it comes to their pointless sniping. Pietro shifts in his chair when her foot reaches his thigh, bringing his other leg back to trap hers between his.]

If you keep this up, you know we're not getting to the park.

[He started it.]

[ You started it, bro.

But Wanda doesn't say as much, fearing that if she does, he'll clam shut and not let her have her fun without an audience. It's so much more fun to tease him when Olga and Alina and all of his friends aren't around. Less time for her to grow quietly sulky and flustered. ]

We will go later.

[ Wanda doesn't look away from him, allowing herself to smile slowly. She wiggles her foot between his, wanting to push further up his thigh to her desired destination. ]

We have all day, Pietro. It is only morning.

[He slides lower in his chair, bringing her foot all that closer, letting go of any subtlety. Though he keeps up a modicum of pretense, not breaking eye contact either and pushing bits of egg around on his plate as if enjoying a leisurely breakfast.]

The park is better in the afternoon.

[Pietro makes it sound like a begrudging concession, but he'd rather stay home too. At least for a while.]

[ She merely hums her agreement.

She rips her toast again and dips what she can into her yolk while watching him. He moves and her foot slides further up his thigh, and Wanda can easily read between the lines of his words without having to skim the surface of his mind.

She extends her foot until her toes brush against his crotch. She doesn't pull back, but keeps the pressure there, wondering if Pietro will shift back or snap or decide that while the park is best enjoyed in the afternoon, errands can be done in the morning. ]

[His thigh twitches and he squirms slightly, but he doesn't pull away from her foot or slide ahead any further. The only other sign of it getting to him is how tightly he clutches his fork and the fact that he's stopped moving it.]

There are things to be done here this morning...

[Not really, and if there were, Pietro could clean the entire apartment in two minutes. The "we have chores to do" ploy is completely nonsensical for him to use. His gaze drifts over to the sun-catcher.]

And you need to find somewhere to hang that before it gets broken. I think maybe the bedroom.

[ he's so still. ]

In a minute. I'm not finished yet.

[ wanda doesn't glance at the sun catcher, keeping her gaze focused on him. she has half a mind to withdraw her foot now and ensure that the sun catcher is safely tucked away, but she knows nothing will harm it. even if it was to fall, her sheer willpower will keep it in one piece.

besides, she's still eating—and wanda wants to ensure she eats the breakfast he had been so kind enough to cook on their shared birthday. she ensures to make a show of taking her time dipping her toast in what's left of the yolk and eats it, pushing her toes more firmly against his crotch. ]

[Pietro manages to deal with it for all of fifteen seconds before giving in and pressing back against her foot. He'd started this and he would like to finish it.]

Oh, come on. It can't take you an hour to eat a piece of toast.

[He taps his thumb rapidly against the table and sighs restlessly like they really have been sitting here for an hour and not under ten minutes.]

Do you want me to try?

[ Wanda doesn't hold back her chuckle, although she's not quite sure if it's in amusement from his spoken exasperation or the fact that he's finally given in and pushed back against her foot. She applies pressure, careful not to hurt him, and continues to eat her toast until she purposefully leaves the crusts and the egg on her plate. Although it's tempting to spend an hour eating her breakfast, she knows Pietro won't sit for that long—and she doesn't wish to waste this day like that.

She sighs long and loud. ]

I think we should find somewhere to hang the sun catcher now.

[ She emphasises that with a press of her foot. ]

[He can't help himself from continuing to moving his hips just a little, rubbing against the pressure of her foot while Wanda finishes all she's going to eat of her breakfast.]

Yes.

[Pietro's agreement is immediate and too-loud the moment she's done speaking and her foot pokes harder against him. Despite how good that feels, he moves in a hurry - pulling out his chair, leaning over the table to grab the crusts of Wanda's toast, gathering the leftover egg between them, and shoving it all in his mouth at once. He snatches the sun-catcher too, only to toss is casually back at Wanda from half-way across the room as he heads for the bedroom. It's fine, he's prepared to run back and catch it himself if she misses, but he has to keep her on her toes.]

[ Wanda laughs, but her laughter's short-lived when he throws her most prized possession carelessly at her.

Thankfully, she catches it gently, relying on her powers to ensure it isn't harmed. She quickly assesses it to ensure there are no cracks, and when she spots none, she's lighter with relief. ]

Pietro!

[ She could kill him for that!

Gently gripping the sun catcher, she storms after him, red-hot anger making her skin burn. She moves quicker than she has before, almost as though she's absorbed some of his speed so she can ensure she catches him. ]

You could have broken it!

[It's difficult for Pietro to stand by his conviction that Wanda would never hurt him when she's looking at him like that. Her eyes reflect anger he doesn't want directed at him, and he knows very well at this point that he'd overstepped with that impulsive notion solely meant to provoke, but not this much. He makes sure there are obstacles in between them as he backs across the room - the bed, some of his shoes, whatever else he'd left on floor over the last couple of days. He contemplates quickly moving the dresser too and his fingers twitch with the urge to slide it over and hide behind it. He doesn't break eye contact, because he'll look at her hands and he doesn't want to know if there are red tendrils floating up from her fingers.

Still, Pietro if nothing is not extremely aggravating at the worst of times, and he can's stop himself from scoffing like she's overreacting, crossing his arms casually despite being completely on edge, and shaking his head dismissively.]

You caught it.

[Everything is justified by the ends.]

[ She purses her lips angrily. That's beside the point! ]

You threw it!

[ Wanda's not the best catcher by any means, her reflexes often slow unless in a situation that requires it. Sometimes she thinks she's slow because she knows Pietro will have her back. He's always there, always looking after her, always so much quicker.

But sometimes he can be so slow. Him not realising how much the sun catcher means to her is another example of how he sometimes moves as slow as a sloth is rumoured to.

Her fingers remain like normal fingers, lacking any red tendrils weaving between them. As angry as she can be, she never directs it toward Pietro. She prefers to petulantly ignore him and huff around the house instead. That's effective most of the time.

So, she does it now, glaring at him for one moment longer before turning her gaze away and walking toward the window. She holds the sun catcher up and eyes it, letting it spin gently to see how it might catch the afternoon light. Unhappy with where she's holding it, she turns slightly to her right and scrutinises that. It deserves the best spot in the room. ]

[It's only after she turns away that Pietro allows himself to outwardly appear anywhere near contrite, and he doesn't apologise. He should, but it wouldn't help, not when he doesn't understand the gravity of things when it comes to Wanda's reactions sometimes. It will click, belatedly, probably the next time he looks at the family photo he's held onto forever, but then it will be too late to bring it back up and properly atone for his mishandling of a new keepsake. It will go ignored and smoothed over, much like any previous insensitive actions on his part. He busies himself picking up his shoes and stray clothes, watching Wanda at the window deciding on where to string up the sun-catcher. Pietro waits as long as he can stand it, which is two minutes and three seconds, before stepping up behind her.]

It looks good there.

[His voice is quieter, but still doesn't hold enough softness in it, and he thinks those words might come across as merely a less demanding version of "just hang it up already," so he tries to fix that.]

If you... like it there.

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