The night was quiet, the only sound in the room being the soft hum of the wind outside and Wanda’s steady breathing behind you. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, comforting and familiar, her arm draped lazily over your waist as her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back.

It was a ritual by now—one you needed to fall asleep. Wanda knew this, which was why, despite her own tiredness, she let her fingers move in slow, soothing strokes, her nails dragging lightly against your skin.

But then she stopped.

Her hand stilled, and you felt her shift slightly, rolling her wrist as if shaking off an ache.

The loss of her touch made you stir, a small frown tugging at your lips. Without thinking, you wiggled a little, your body squirming ever so slightly beneath the covers as you nuzzled deeper into your pillow. It was a wordless plea, a quiet request for her to keep going.

Wanda huffed a soft chuckle behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"Really?" she murmured sleepily, amused.