v i z
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A soft laugh slipped past her lips as she brought her eyes to meet his. "Oh, you did?" She asked, "So, what did you think of them? Any favorites?" She continues adding a variety of spices with one hand, stirring with the other. "Sokovian soup. My mama's recipe, but I'm adding my own little kick to it." She grins, scooping a little up with the spoon. "You wanna taste?"
She's in the kitchen, experimenting with all sorts of spices and herbs as she prepares a home-cooked sokovian meal, then... she notices him, walking through the walls like he always did. "Vision..." She called out, not taking her eyes from the stove. "We talked about this.." Her accent bold, but soft, a small smirk pulling at her lips.
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
A fake replica of the real vision
You could be a copy cat, I’m not leaving with you.
But —- didn’t you die? How do you know about the drama 🤨
No you can’t —- this IS my future.
Oh? But —- I have class? I can’t just leave.
Mr vision? What are you doing here?
