Damn it. She had overplayed her hand. Pietro would have known better than to blunder ahead, or at least done a better job of seeming impressed by the Capitol in the first place. She didn't like the look of surprise on Loki's face, as neutral as his tone remained. She had gotten too self-congratulatory over her insights into him, not thinking of how her sudden eagerness to stay here permanently might look.
Still, if the Games had taught her anything, it was the pointlessness of panic. She held his gaze calmly, while her mind hurriedly churned up potential responses to this line of inquiry. Fortunately her hair had gotten slightly tangled in the overly-large obsidian necklace her stylist had chosen for her to wear. Quickly freeing the captured locks gave her nervous fingers something to do.
"I know it must seem surprising," she admitted, leaning forward slightly so her voice carried only to him. Let him think she was embarrassed, or better yet, that she wanted to confide in him alone. "It's not that I don't appreciate Three, I do. But... well, my brother and I were always so busy helping out father with his work. We never had any time to make other friends and now he's gone and...everyone will treat my differently. Why wouldn't they? And I don't think living up in the Victors' Village will help with any of that."
Oh dear, was this all getting too maudlin? Wanda wasn't sure how far Loki's sentimental streak extended, or if he even had one to begin with. Perhaps she should dial it back a bit. Giving him what she hoped was a brave, if rueful, smile she shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
"I could never be another Natasha, even if I wanted to be," she agreed, feeling on firmer ground now. "I wouldn't even know where to start. But... something with technology, perhaps. If Mr. Stark were a different sort of man, I might offer my skills to him." She would offer them to him anyway, of course, if she had the opportunity, but Wanda was holding on to their mutual disdain towards that man as one of the things uniting them.