Chapter 17

                                    

                                          
||"I survived, because the fire inside of me burned brighter than the fire around me."||
                          
Everyone had gone off to sleep, and Steve and Wanda walked into her room—silently observing each other, fully aware of the sudden change in the atmosphere. It was past midnight, and her eyes were weary with sleep, but her senses were very much aware of his every move. 
                          
Steve's bag had taken home in her bedroom, and he now had his own drawer, where he kept his sweatpants and shirts. They were going about their regular nightly routine: get undressed, climb into bed, then sleep. But the air between them was somehow different tonight. 
                          
She'd felt it change an hour ago, when everyone was still awake, and when everyone was upstairs, drinking and having a good time. 
                          
Clint was visiting, and Wanda and Pietro bothered him with questions about Laura and the kids, and soon after, Tony began pouring everyone drinks. Her mood from earlier had lifted tremendously, and knowing Tony was feeling better too gave her the reassurance she needed to let herself have a good time. 
                          
Even Pietro took to having a few drinks, which lightened him up as well. Natasha didn't look distracted like she usually did, and instead, she was laughing and smiling, cracking jokes and play fighting with Clint. Steve fumbled around with them too, trying his best to catch Pietro, and winning every arm wrestle contest—though Natasha managed to kill his streak. 
                          
Pietro and Clint bickered; Tony and Wanda tested out her hex against his blaster (they were both equally powerful, but the group agreed on Wanda's magic being the stronger force); Natasha and Clint ran around like children, drinks in hand and laughters filling the room; and Steve sat back, his eyes watching Wanda with so much happiness that Wanda found it unbelievably hard not to notice.
                          
Then, her and Steve had gone into the kitchen to find some snacks, and they were alone, together, hands touching each other, and mouths kissing. It felt so flirtatious and quiet, that her giggles were met with kisses from him. 
                          
They spent the next hour sitting together with everyone, his arm around her shoulder, and her head resting on his chest. One by one, everyone went to their rooms, and Pietro opted for the couch, claiming he was too exhausted to get up and walk to his room. So Steve and Wanda headed down to her room alone, their hands intertwined, and their heads light with fuzzy delight. 
                          
Wanda grabbed her nightgown from her drawer and headed into the bathroom. Usually she opted to change in front of him, but tonight, she locked herself in the bathroom and changed quickly. When she looked into the mirror, she was flushed, her cheeks soft and pink, her lips dark and swollen from all of the kisses Steve gave her. 
                          
She washed up, brushing her teeth and splashing her face with water. When she walked back into her room, Steve was sitting down on her bed, his head hanging low as he unclasped his watch from his wrist. She strode over to him, and he looked up at her, his lips curving up into a smile. 
                          
Her hands came up, twisting in his hair, and he leaned forward, resting his head on her stomach. She could feel his arms coming up, wrapping around her, pulling her forward. He pulled her down, and she sat down on his lap, her thighs resting on either side of him. She kissed his forehead, her lips warm against his cool skin, and his hands came up, rubbing her back gently as their mouths met in the middle. 
                          
She could taste the mixture of her minty breath with his, and she bit down on his lip, tasting him—relishing him. 
                          
His hands pushed her hips down, and her hips moved against his, and to her surprise, a familiar sound slipped past her lips. Wanda sat back, her face aghast with embarrassment. But all he did was laugh quietly, his body moving swiftly, placing her down on the bed. "You mean so much to me," he whispered, his voice slurred, deep, and hot.