The silver-haired speedster had been standing in the same spot for almost an hour. Not because he was paralyzed, no. In fact, it was the opposite. He was fully in control of his own movements, and he was fully focused on giving the woman in the glass cell his infamous death stare.

"What do you want, you freak?" she called out again. It had been like this for the past hour. She was constantly yelling at him, frustrated with his lack of movement and volume.

There was no real harm to what he was doing, unless he had the ability to shoot lasers from his eyes. But she was easily annoyed and this was the perfect setup in pissing her off.

Pietro figured that out the minute he walked into the area opposite her cell.

"If you keep staring at me like that, you're head will be the first one my bullet will travel through when I'm out of here."

"Oh, I'm not worried." His voice was deep, threatening even. But she was way too annoyed to be scared. "You won't be getting out of there any time soon."

"Oh?" She laughed. "Who said anything about getting out?"

"You won't be able to break out either. You're standing in a cell built with Stark Tech. It would be impossible." He remarked with an air of arrogance and satisfaction in the truth of his words.

"Oh, baby." She stood up, moving towards the glass and pressing her palms to it. "With the amount of annoyance I'm in, I might just do the inevitable."

Pietro scoffed, unimpressed. And even if a small part of him was, it was pushed down by his enormous hatred for her that was growing by the second.

"You shot my sister. You'll pay for it." He seethed, speeding to the very front of her cell so he could look her in the eye as he spat out her crime to him.

"Oh, sister?" She threw her hands up in the air as if to say 'gosh-darn-it-that's-a-surprise.' "I should've known. Here I was thinking you just wanted a good view."

He said nothing. He wanted her to feel his wrath. Even though Wanda had made it out alive, that didn't dim his anger for the woman he was standing in front of right now. She shot his sister. She hurt her. And anyone who hurt his sister would automatically be on his murder list.

"Well, can you please hate me quietly? And from a distance? And arms length at least. This eye-to-eye thing isn't really working out for me." She moved away from the glass, going to the very back of her cell to sit down.

"You don't understand, do you?" He sped again, moving so fast that he was a blur to the human eye. "You hurt her. No one is allowed to hurt my sister. I'm going to kill you when I get the chance."

"Kill me?" She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her as she did so. "It didn't seem like it in that bar, eh?"

Pietro's mind immediately took him back to the time he saw her in the bar, brawling with some man that was barely a challenge to her. He remembered feeling a strange sense of protectiveness over her. It was a stark contrast in comparison to what he was feeling right now.

But he couldn't deny it. Even now he was still drawn to her. Not necessarily in a good way, but nonetheless, he was drawn to her. He couldn't get her out of his head.

When he snapped himself out of his train of thought, he saw that he was being watched intensely by the very person he had been eyeing before. He saw a hint of recognition in her eyes—she knew exactly what he was feeling right now.

Or did she? Pietro was bad at reading people.

"I know you wanna murder me, but can you please get me something to eat right now? That way you can kill me by your own hand and not by the wacky starvation method."

He huffed. Of course she didn't know what he was feeling. Was this woman even capable of emotions?

Pietro shrugged as he turned his back to her, making the conscious choice to walk away. "I don't know. Maybe watching you starve to death would be cool."

"Hey!" She called out, but he was already out of her sight. "Come on, you and I both know starvation is overrated!"