A spark of irritation emerged at Natasha's curt appraisal, but Wanda hastily managed to smother it. She knew she needed to suppress this ego of hers, it was dangerous. It made her forget her greater purpose; pride was not going to get her any closer to her goals.
She marveled, impressed despite herself at the lovely smile that illuminated Natasha's face mere seconds after it had seemed she'd been lost in her thoughts--thoughts not of a particularly pleasant variety. Wanda would need to learn that too. Her face now ached from smiling the night away at everyone and everything. But Wanda knew she was not yet the actress her mentor was, she didn't wear easy charm as a second skin.
Caffeine, sex, and fashion, Wanda thought dismissively, but she couldn't summon up the proper wave of condemnation for Natasha, at least not as readily as she could for anyone else. The image of that slight young girl from District 7 still hovered at the edges of her mind. She'd need to watch that impulse too. Natasha was a creature of the Capitol now, at least in all the ways that mattered. No sentimental attachment on Wanda's side would change that.
"I think I can agree to that," she replied with a slight smile, offering her hand for a solemn shake. "You're kind enough to give me a roof over my head, the least I can do is ensure the coffee supplies don't dwindle and not make off with your gowns." She took in the daring dress her mentor was currently sporting for the first time, wondering if she would ever get used to the extremes of Capitol fashion.