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my little panda

Summary:

peggy rarely asks the reason for tears. even less often – about nightmares. and never about childhood.

people who have experienced a tragedy are much more careful about communicating with people who are experiencing it.

Work Text:

peggy wipes the sweaty mix of mascara and cheap eyeliner from pale cheeks. she smiles nervously, pushing tenderness and a desire to kiss deep into her.

"you're my little panda," it comes out anyway.

wanda looks up like an offended animal, frowning. green eyes from tears become even brighter. peg feels her legs, no matter how strong, give way treacherously.

peggy rarely asks the reason for tears. even less often – about nightmares. and never about childhood.

people who have experienced a tragedy are much more careful about communicating with people who are experiencing it.

she leads wanda into the kitchen, pours whiskey into cups with the worn shield emblems, leaving them on the bar counter.

freezes, looking at wanda.

wanda – youth, strength and innate sophistication. she looks out the window, and the setting sun highlights her profile, making her hair almost red.

peggy wants to run her hand to them, kiss the neatly turned-up nose and the wrinkle between the intently knitted eyebrows.

she approaches, stepping softly on the tiled floor. wanda hears everything anyway. the posture changes, the muscles tighten.

"you know I'm always there, right?"

she never asks the reason.

but she always catches me in her arms, hugging and rocking wanda, as their older brother rocked them as a child.

that's why she is surprised, feeling short, barely noticeable kisses on the wet traces at the neck.

wanda freezes. she feels peggy's surprise. her doubt.

peggy, having gathered all her will acquired over the years, pulls away, looking into the green deer eyes. again with black circles around.

and... laughing. bites her lips, still smiling. whispers "my little panda" and "my love" between kisses – on the nose, eyebrows and cheeks.

she presses their foreheads together, feeling wanda's ragged breath.

"captain, don't call me that," whisper on the lips. she smiles.

"are you sure, my soul?"

"don't even think about stopping."

and kisses like a girl sincerely, tenderly.

that's how they stand. bathed in the sunset rays of the sun. beaten by life.

infinitely in love.