Honestly, though he would normally expect gifts on his birthday, seeing no other day grander than the day him and his sister were born, with their current situation, even Pietro had to come to grips with the fact that this year would be a bit more disappointing than usual. It wasn't as if he was expecting miracles from their father either. They would be lucky if he even remembered the date to begin with. But, of course, he didn't expect anything extravagant from Wanda. It was corny and he knew it, but it was a pleasure just being with her and he didn't care what anyone else thought of it.
"Well, perhaps we're just a very young thirty-five then," he agreed with a smirk, not wanting to argue to logistics of age. It was too tender a subject to begin with for the speedster.
Of course, that was what Pietro meant when he thought fondly of their life as gypsys. His better memories end on that horrible night when they lost what they thought was their true parents. As far as they managed to run though, from Europe to the States, they still faced the same hate and criticism no matter what.
"I am glad that you like it, Wanda. I only want for you to be happy," he said pulling his hand away. "I just wish that things were different. That were didn't have to celebrate this day in this place. Especially, with these people."