( it being called a panic attack makes sense. of course wanda knows what it is, in theory, but they never started happening to her until after she had lost her brother. he was like a balm, keeping her from experiencing the worst of the terrors of her ptsd. when it had started, she had felt like she couldn't really talk about it, lest it gave a reason to be removed from the care of the avengers, or to be considered even more of a hazard than what she already was.
she doesn't say anything about how she meant fixing it as a temporary thing, though appreciates the knowledge that it will come back, despite this, but now she just has more control for when it does happen.
his advice feels generous, too, about counting the things around her. which is why she says, in lieu of another 'thanks', )
It doesn't sound dumb.
( but she quiets down too, when he does, when she senses his thoughts straying towards something far away, of people he remembers but doesn't say the names for. jesse is... surprisingly easy to read, she notices, without putting up any walls; why should he expect the person to be sitting next to him to be able to read his mind, anyway?
it's something she stores away, grateful that despite his own pain, he is here, helping her out, a total stranger.
he chuckles, plays it cool.
wanda presses onto this thought, a little nervously, but hoping it lands well. she isn't used to knowing what to say in friendly scenarios, or knowing what exactly would sound like something welcome instead of being presumptuous. so, here goesβ )
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she doesn't say anything about how she meant fixing it as a temporary thing, though appreciates the knowledge that it will come back, despite this, but now she just has more control for when it does happen.
his advice feels generous, too, about counting the things around her. which is why she says, in lieu of another 'thanks', )
It doesn't sound dumb.
( but she quiets down too, when he does, when she senses his thoughts straying towards something far away, of people he remembers but doesn't say the names for. jesse is... surprisingly easy to read, she notices, without putting up any walls; why should he expect the person to be sitting next to him to be able to read his mind, anyway?
it's something she stores away, grateful that despite his own pain, he is here, helping her out, a total stranger.
he chuckles, plays it cool.
wanda presses onto this thought, a little nervously, but hoping it lands well. she isn't used to knowing what to say in friendly scenarios, or knowing what exactly would sound like something welcome instead of being presumptuous. so, here goesβ )
Maybe we can start a band of our own.