Wanda snorts, scrunching her nose in amusement. She thinks to comment on his line—she's pretty sure she's the one who can realign the stars if she so wished, even though she's unsure of just how far her power even extends in strength—but he seems worried. She doesn't mean to sense it; it niggles at her mind even if he doesn't mean for it to reach her.

She presses her left hand firmly against his and digs the heel of her palm down. No matter how hard she pushes down, he can easily tug his hand free. But she doesn't think he will, not when she's physically noted it's there. The metal's cool on her skin and unnaturally heavy, but she hardly minds.

"If you want to do this, then it's all of you," she says, looking at him from over her shoulder.