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Silence is something Wednesday enjoys. It gives her a chance to explore her thoughts, plan any murders, and just have a moment of peace. It's never bothered her in the slightest, it's like an old friend, it's comforting and safe. She's never understood those who just can't sit with the silence, she supposes they don't want to hear their own thoughts bouncing around.
Her roommate does not do silence.
Every, single, day, Wednesday has had to endure some kind of pop music blaring from Enid’s laptop. If not music, the girl is constantly talking. She drones on and on about the most mundane and mindless subjects that Wednesday can feel her IQ drop.
And yet, her voice has grown on Wednesday, like an infection. It's grown enough that Wednesday likes her talking and Wednesday even listens to what she has to say. And even more terrible, Wednesday remembers everything Enid has told her.
How nauseating on Wednesday's part.
Wednesday does appreciate that the girl has a knack for knowing everything about everyone. It has steadily come in handy with their–NO, Wednesday's investigation. Only hers. Definitely not both of them. Enid is not a part of this. No, Enid just simply cannot be helping Wednesday. She would just distract her.
Much like she's doing now.
But, this distraction is…different. Wednesday's ears aren't ringing with some Pop song. She hasn't had to zone out that wretched cell phone, always blasting with random noises. She doesn't even recall Enid greeting her this morning, which alone had sent Wednesday on high alert.
Enid is quiet. Abnormally quiet. So quiet in fact, Wednesday can hear the small and controlled breaths Enid takes.
Breathe in. 1, 2, 3, 4. Breathe out. 1, 2, 3, 4.
Wednesday slows on her typewriter, trying her best to fade out the clicks. She's dissatisfied to find that she didn't write anything grand at all, just her inner thoughts and she sees one too many "Enid’s" throughout it.
She clenches her jaw as she smooths out her skirt. She would rather smash her face in a bear trap than admit most of her writings seem to be influenced by a certain Lycan these days. She's just more irritated that she actually put her name on paper this time.
She tries to be discreet as she slips out from her chair and takes a glance over at Enid.
Enid stands stoic in front of her mirror, not a centimeter of her moves in the slightest. Her breaths are so shallow, Wednesday can't see her chest rise and fall. She almost believes that she's been turned to stone.
But, Wednesday takes note that her bright blue eyes appear to be dull. They don't twinkle like normal, they don't have that sparkle filled with curiosity and mischief. No, they just look so incredibly plain, normal, and boring.
Something's wrong and Wednesday isn't getting satisfaction from it. Her stomach aches while her throat tightens and she doesn't want to admit it, but she's worried.
How horrible.
She controls her own facial features and slips on a neutral mask. Wednesday can not be concerned with Enid today, no, she has too much to think about with her family coming today–
Family Day. Oh god, how could Wednesday forget! She's a fool.
Her strides are deliberate as she makes her way to Enid’s side. Wednesday won't dwell on how her own eyes have gone soft for the Lycan. She despises her own reflection. It isn't Wednesday Addams. The doppelganger looking back at her is someone more human, filled with emotions that she doesn't want to sort through. And she won't– can't admit that the Wednesday she sees is one that is reserved for only one person.
Enid Sinclair.
"Enid." She wants to cut her own tongue out by how tender she sounds. Her veins begin to heat up and a wildfire starts in her chest. The scent of strawberries is strong on Enid today and Wednesday can't shake it out of her nose. She notes that the garbage disposal of a human didn't eat any junk last night. Not a single odor of some kind of Hostess snack wafts from her. The strawberries are lovely and Wednesday prefers it but– fuck, if she doesn't miss the stale Twinkie smell.
She despises Enid for making her feel this way.
Wednesday clears her throat and it snaps Enid out of the intense trance she was under. Those mesmerizing eyes lock with Wednesday and Wednesday knows she's done for.
She ignores the way her heart rams itself in her chest, begging to be heard, and yearns for the blonde. She'll also disregard the urge to wrap Enid in her arms as she sees the pure sadness swimming in her perfect blue eyes.
Through all of the hours of Enid’s voice filling their space, she has told Wednesday a good chunk about her life. And with some coaxing, Wednesday has told Enid about her own life. And with those hours, the topic of family came up, and well,
The Sinclairs are horrible people and Wednesday means that in a derogatory way.
Her heart had torn itself to shreds, leaving only a raw outline as Enid told Wednesday of her mother and father. She had said it all so casually as if it wasn't a despicable display of parenting.
"Yeah, then she called me a disappointment since I couldn't shift–again." Her usual infectious laughter was forced and just…not right. She had felt her forehead crinkle, felt the way her breathing came to a screeching halt, and she could just feel the rage burning and building within her. She had to readjust her position in Enid’s bed. She had to vacate her spot and sit up, leaving Enid laying on her side. Wednesday had to move or else she would have gone mad with anger. Enid was a million things but ‘a disappointment’ was not one of them.
She shakes the memory and focuses back on the issue at hand. Enid is now fully facing Wednesday and watches her patiently. Wednesday can't stand that her lips are turned down, no hidden smirk or a ghost of a smile, just defeat.
Wednesday would burn down this school to fix it all.
"We could run away." She rushes out before her nerves actually get her. "Students go missing daily, no one would care if we weren't here today." Her voice is entirely too soft, too caring, but she can't seem to correct herself. "I did find a cave tucked away and Uncle Fester is a lovely home decorator." Humor. A great distraction from how utterly pathetic Wednesday's tone is.
A small smile graces Enid’s face and Wednesday would break her back to make Enid break that smile again.
An airy giggle slips out from Enid as she shies her gaze away. Wednesday starts to chase after her eyes but she scolds herself and forces the mask back on.
"Thanks, Addams. But my parents would definitely notice." She shakes her head before walking away and towards her backpack by the door. "Besides, I am their legacy. I am a Sinclair after all." She bites out that last sentence, a toxin laced within her tone.
It's very attractive but Wednesday cannot be focused on that right now.
"I'll see ya later, Addams." Words fill her throat and fight each other to escape and find the right combination to make Enid run away with her.
"And thanks for caring."
The door shuts and Wednesday can sense that cloud of dread falling over Nevermore.
This should be interesting.
————
"Morticia and Gomez! How wonderful to see you two!"
Wednesday uses the moment to slip away from her family, they'll be understanding of her absence. Besides, they had been far more focused on reminiscing their own past adventures at this hell hole. And if Wednesday has to hear another "Ah yes, this is where I told your mother I loved her for the 245th time" she will actually murder someone.
Her footsteps are quick and quiet as she disappears around the stone corner. She's thankful that her father had always taught her the importance of stealth. It has come in handy more times than not lately.
The breeze slightly picks up and Wednesday can feel her fingers beginning to lock up, her bones aching from the chill. The gray skies collect thick clouds that hang lowly, a telltale of possible snow coming.
Wednesday grimaces thinking of their already bone-chilling dorm room, the cold night coming will surely send her into hypothermia. Perhaps Enid wouldn't be opposed to sharing her bed…again.
Her chest heats up and electricity flows through her veins. Her mind recalls the night a few days ago and her skin lights up as a ghost of Enid’s arms around her comes back to her. The Lycan is a personal space heater, Wednesday's personal space heater. You would have to waterboard her to get her to admit that she has spent most nights intertwined with the cotton-haired girl. Her embrace is burned into Wednesday's memory, her scent clings to every piece of her clothing, and her quiet voice echoes in her head.
Wednesday is covered in every aspect of Enid.
Her feet carry her around the grounds aimlessly or so Wednesday assumes. She passes by her classmates with their own families, showing them around, laughing with them, and introducing them to the friends they've made. Wednesday hates that she gives a short head nod to Yoko as she walks by, but the girl has slowly wormed her way into Wednesday. Not near as deep as Enid but it's almost nice to have another friend.
Enid …
Somehow it always leads to this, Wednesday seeking out Enid in crowds and events. Even without conscious thought, her body just knew where she was and located her like an aloof bloodhound.
Her body hums once more and her emotions softly talk in her chest as she gazes at Enid. Waves of underlying affection call out to her Addams' side and beg to be next to the rainbow disaster. Her feet shuffle along and her mind tries to formulate some sort of an excuse in case Enid questions it.
But, her eyes catch two figures standing in front of Enid and Wednesday makes a sudden halt. The haze lifts from her mind and she finally notices how Enid does not look like Enid.
She looks lifeless. Her eyes appear sunken in and her eye bags look deepened. There's no spark emitting from her vibrant eyes, no entrancing smile that causes swarms in Wednesday's stomach, no laughter carrying out through the courtyard that pulls everyone in.
No, she looks colorless. A poorly drawn sketch of the girl who runs rampant in Wednesday's mind. This is not her Enid.
Esther and Murray Sinclair both stand tall, chests out and noses upturned. Wednesday glares as she watches them sneer at other families walking by. Her gaze hardens as she notes how Enid’s shoulders drop in embarrassment and she curls into herself.
For the short months, Wednesday has known Enid, she has seen her progress into a very confident woman. She hasn't been the punching bag anymore, no, instead she snaps back at people, makes demands and she has slowly stopped caring about what other people think. All in all, Wednesday has actually been pretty proud of Enid.
And just in a few short hours, her parents managed to tear her down completely. Well, that simply will not do.
She narrows her vision and makes a beeline over to the Sinclairs. The wind picks up more and stings her cheeks, she also takes note that Enid visibly shivers. Wednesday stops short, hiding back behind Enid. Close enough to eavesdrop but, hopefully, far enough that Enid’s trained nose doesn’t pick up on her scent.
“Enid, really.” Esther’s voice cuts through the air and stabs into Wednesday’s ears. “You can’t transform, you can’t find a mate, and now you can’t even regulate your temperature.” Her blood turns to lava as she watches Esther roll her eyes. “Honestly, at this point, you’re just becoming pathetic.”
Emotions have never come easy to Wednesday. They confuse her endlessly, make her head spin, and overwhelm her at times. She feels each emotion so deeply that it all becomes too much and she has to retreat and hide away.
But, anger? Wednesday is practically married to it.
Her blood pumps scorching fire, burning everything in its path. Her heart squeezes and twists in the most unpleasant way and crawls up her chest.
“Έχει δίκιο η μητέρα σου, αγαπητέ . ” Murray starts, his own eyebrows furrowed. “You have to be good at something. Your little claws are a sorry excuse for a party trick and we Sinclairs are no party trick.” He huffs out, adding acid to the wound.
“I just wish you would’ve been like your cousin, Cassandra.” Esther sighs. Enid folds even more into herself.
“Yes, a good and strong Sinclair. She transformed at the age of 6! What did you do at 6? Oh yeah, failed at howling, that’s right.” They both laugh, loudly. They have the nerve to just degrade the most incredible girl publicly. Wednesday observes the people passing by and she glares daggers at each one, daring someone to laugh along with them.
The emotions in her are all screaming to be set free; feelings of hurt, rage, and sorrow, all beat inside her and it’s starting to cloud her rationalization. The deadly Addams’ impulsiveness is creeping up her throat and locking into her mind. Wednesday tries to school herself to bring it all backdown. She is calculated, cunning, and above all else, very calm. She never lets her emotions dictate any aspect of her life. She will never be known as someone who lets them control her, she just won’t submit to them.
That is until the most radiant Lycan alive entered her dark world.
Wednesday can tell she’s losing control as her vision begins to shrink down. The edges fade out and all she can see are Esther and Murray’s disgusting faces. Her hearing has gone out, only the rushing of her blood and the pounding of her heart can be heard. Her final straw is shredded as Enid bows her head and tries to discreetly wipe a tear away.
Wednesday surges forward and positions herself in front of Enid, blocking the Sinclairs from her. Wednesday curls her lip as she watches the Sinclairs slip back on a façade. If there is anything that she cannot stand are pretenders.
“Oh! Well, hello, uhh,” Esther pauses as she gives Wednesday a look over. “Dearie.” She chokes out the word. “From all that black, I take it you’re an Addams.”
“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid whispers and Wednesday can feel her insides crumble hearing the pain hidden in Enid’s tone.
“You two are a sorry excuse for parents and deserve to have your tongues mangled and sewn to the back of your throats.”
Everything stops. The wind dies out, the chatter of the courtyard disappears, and her own breathing comes to a halt. The tension is thick and fragile and it just builds excitement in the raven-haired girl.
Murray is the first to shake off the shock. A red flush fills his sickly pale skin. “How dare you–”
“How does it feel to be your prehistoric age and feel the need to bully your own child?” She snaps back with ease and no hesitation. A spark of satisfaction lights up her chest seeing how distraught the two adults are.
"Wed-" Enid’s soft voice begins, but a harpy of a woman dares to interject.
"Prehistoric?!" Esther screeches. "Do you have any idea who you are talking to?!"
Wednesday sets her unblinking stare into Esther's eyes. Her eyes have always been a great asset, the rich dark color leaves most uncomfortable to lock their gazes with Wednesday. They pierce through fake walls and rip away truthful words in most Normies and Wednesday will be dammed if some werewolf will avoid it.
“You both are bullies. Do you want to know what I did to the last set of bullies? I made sure they could never reproduce again. Alas, it was only...attempted murder but with all your wrinkles and balding, I'm sure I could easily get the job done.” Each word slices through with precision and Wednesday relishes the reactions she gets.
Murray’s skin has been stained with a red tint, and his eyes have switched to a toxin yellow, his own beast laying just under the surface. Esther’s face is contorted in the most distasteful way as she clutches at her chest.
Wednesday takes a challenging step forward, invading their space and owning it as her own. She doesn’t miss the way, Esther takes a small step back. What a coward.
“Never, talk to Enid like that again.” She says evenly, each word having a warning to it. “She's intelligent, witty, courageous, and the most loyal person I have ever met. She's far from a disappointment and she deserves better than you two.”
“Listen here you, freak.” Murray steps up with his fangs poking out. “We are the Sinclairs. The most prestigious Wolf Family there is.” His tone drips with arrogance and he talks to Wednesday as if she’s beneath him. “Despite our half-a-wolf, disappointment of a daughter–”
Her breath catches and her system ignites in explosions of rage and destruction. Her mind goes blank, her vision clouds with a tint of maroon, and she’s suddenly all too aware of Enid grasping her left arm. Wednesday knows Murray is droning on and on, believing that he is actually winning this fight. She can see the way his lips curl and the specks of saliva flying from his mouth. She understands that time truly did not pause for her, but this roaring hostility within her begs to differ.
It comes in snapshots to Wednesday’s eyes, like an old-time claymation. She can see most of what just happened, but some details are lost in the film.
What she does know, is her right knuckle throbbing in pain. She looks to see her skin busted open on her ring and pinkie knuckles. She also notes that Murray is no longer in her space, instead he stumbles back and collides with Esther.
It isn’t until Enid’s warm hands enclose Wednesday’s injured one that her mind slows and returns to normal speed.
“I–Wednesday, what–I,” Enid fumbles over every word. Her eyes run laps around Wednesday’s face with something that looks like admiration shining in the deep blues. Pure electricity tingles her right hand as Enid’s thumb rubs soft circles over her knuckles. Her mouth flays open in shock and Wednesday notices that she has bitten her bottom lip raw.
Of course, she would notice that. She notices everything about the Lycan. She notices that Enid is an anxious person; she bites at her nails on test days, she twirls her hair in crowds, and her leg constantly bounces in classes. She notices that when she’s stressed she won’t eat, and refuses even the smallest bites from Wednesday’s own food. She also knows that Enid is a loud and energetic person and that she doesn’t enjoy the silence, but tolerates it for Wednesday. Wednesday knows all of this and yet–
She just left Enid to fend for herself today. She had shown every single quirk that something was wrong, that Enid did not feel secure, and that she needed help. Sure, Wednesday attempted to help, but she should’ve tried harder. She should’ve just stolen Enid away and kidnapped her. At the very least, Wednesday should have gone with her, been by her side for the day. Maybe then, this series of events might have played out differently.
“Ρε γαμημένο σκατά! You ugly, wretched, sorry excuse for a freakshow!” Murray’s voice booms and if there wasn’t a crowd before, there’s definitely one now. “I will have your head for this! You pathetic human–”
“Don’t talk to her like that!” Enid roars as a low growl emits from her. “I don’t give a fuck if you belittle me and make me feel worthless but,” her vice grip releases from Wednesday’s hand. This time she stands tall in front of Wednesday, her own colorful claws out on display. “Never talk to ΦΕΓΓΑΡΙ μου like that again.”
A new emotion takes up in Wednesday’s chest. It burns like her anger, but this feels more…comforting? It doesn’t stab at her, but it makes her bones buzz to life and it pools deep within her stomach. And it grows more and more as she stares at Enid.
Esther gasps loudly and pushes past Murray, her own claws out. “How dare you raise your voice at us! We are your FAMILY!”
"And Wednesday has been more accepting of me than you two have ever been!” She takes a confident step forward, standing toe-to-toe with Esther. “Sure she can be rough around the edges, but she's smart and brave and funny and actually really, really fucking kind, under it all! And she’s right, I do deserve better than the two of you.”
“Είσαι νεκρός για εμάς.” Esther growls through her teeth.
“Ας είναι.” Enid snaps back, venom dripping from her words. With that, she spins on her heel and grabs Wednesday’s wrist.
Enid hurries through the crowd and Wednesday does her best at glaring at everyone. There are already thousands of whispers and everyone staring at them as they bulldoze past. This will surely be the talk of the school for at least a week and Wednesday can handle all of the gossip when it comes to herself. But Enid?
They continue to cut through the school grounds and the blast of warm air from inside stings Wednesday’s eyes. Her face begins to melt and she hadn’t realized how freezing it was outside.
Enid hurries them inside their room and Wednesday already feels more at ease. No more prying eyes, it’s just the two of them now.
That need starts up again. The tortuous need to embrace Enid and comfort her. She knows that Enid needs it as well. What just happened out there, she’ll be in shambles within minutes.
Wordlessly, Enid guides Wednesday to her bed and gestures for her to sit. For once, Wednesday obeys and Enid disappears to their bathroom.
The solitude gives Wednesday a chance to collect herself and ground her mind down. Her emotions have been in full force and it all has exhausted her, completely sucked the life from her. It sounds wonderful in theory, but as of right now, Wednesday could do without it. Her body aches and she desires to retire to her bed and sleep away the rest of the day. A dull headache forms just as her right hand begins to stiffen.
It’s bruised but thankfully nothing appears to be broken or fractured. How embarrassing would that have been? Punching someone just to break your own hand, sounds pathetic.
The soft closing of the door catches her attention and Enid shuffles over to her, first aid kit in her hands.
She opens her mouth to protest, but Enid gives her pleading eyes, and she caves in.
God, this girl has so much power over her.
They sit in silence, normally it would be comforting but Wednesday can feel how suffocating the air is. Unspoken words collide in both their minds and Wednesday can’t seem to formulate the right ones to say. She’s far too distracted by the Lycan.
She traces every inch of Enid’s face. The slope of her nose, symmetrical cheekbones, and the sharp edge of her jawline make all of Praxiteles’ sculptures look bleak. Her eyes avoid Wednesday’s gaze and stay locked onto her bleeding hand. She’s delicate as she cleans the area, feather-like touches leave goosebumps all along Wednesday’s arms. All of the soft brushes with her fingers make Wednesday crave to latch onto her instead. She almost can’t stand it. Her heart stutters as Enid’s eyes glance at her own.
Black may be her favorite color, but blue is becoming a close second.
She needs to gain control again or else the feeling clawing up her throat will spill out. “I punched correctly.” Her voice is far too quiet and it cracks slightly. “I’m a bit insulted that you assume I did it wrong and broke something.” She adds a faint smile at the end, hoping to get a lighthearted response.
Enid stares for a moment and Wednesday can tell a million thoughts and words speed through her head. So much had unfolded and Wednesday will be patient for her. Enid deserves that at least.
Small explosions start as Enid rubs her thumb over her knuckles. Her arm tingles and surges of euphoria flood the back of her head. Her movements are slow and scattered, pausing every so often and each spot burns Wednesday in a pleasant way.
"Addams, you punched a werewolf, specifically an old-time pack leader like my father." She starts and her tone is filled with amazement and confusion. "Of course, your hand could be broken." Her voice has a bit of a bite and Wednesday knows Enid hates it when she puts herself in danger.
"I've known the correct form of how to throw a punch since I was 3. It's not broken."
Enid huffs and rolls her eyes. "It doesn't matter. Werewolves have stronger bones than humans." Her voice fades as she resumes putting band-aids on Wednesday's open wounds.
Something gnaws at Wednesday's gut, a deep intuition. The way that Enid said ‘werewolves’ was like she was referring to a separate species and not including herself. Wednesday could tell because she knows Enid's voice, her tone, the inflection, the slightest accent, she knows it all.
"Why did you say it like that?" She whispers out with far too much interest in her own tone.
"What, Addams?" She mumbles and finishes up, avoiding eye contact. She keeps her own hands on Wednesday’s injured one, caressing it. Her head swarms with loud emotions and she feels unwanted confessions climbing up, desperate to slip out her mouth. Her thoughts become hazy and, again, she feels herself lose control.
Her hand shifts on its own and intertwines their fingers together. Her chest rumbles and her lips turn up at hearing Enid suck in a small breath. She’s tense for a moment before she relaxes her hand into Wednesday’s. Her hand is warm and strong and something that feels…safe. She marvels at how nicely Enid’s hand compliments her own. Their contrast in skin tone, the different colors of their nails, her smooth perfect skin, and Wednesday’s hand covered in old scars. It’s all so aesthetic and she wonders how she hasn’t noticed before.
“How you referred to werewolves. Like you aren’t one.” Enid finally meets her eyes and Wednesday wouldn’t mind drowning in them.
“Didn’t you hear? I’m half-a-wolf. The best I can do is claws.” Her eyes drift down in embarrassment and a flush fills her face. She tries to slip her hand away, but the thought of Enid’s hand not in Wednesday’s makes her stomach twist and her heart crumble.
She tightens her grip and tugs Enid’s hand. It draws her attention back, looking up at Wednesday through her lashes. Something deadlier than butterflies plague her stomach and she has to restrain herself from saying something far too affectionate.
“And with those claws, you can still rip throats apart and skin a man alive. You can cause chaos and destruction.”
How attractive. She ushers the thought out for the time being.
Enid raises an eyebrow, but it still causes a smile to spread across her face. Her heart is above her head by now and her veins pump blood far too quickly for it to be normal.
“Wow, was that a compliment from THE Wednesday Addams? I must simply be dreaming.” She mocks a swoon and if it doesn’t make Wednesday want to kiss her.
Oh.
“You aren’t half-a-wolf. You are a Lycan. The bravest and most gorgeous Lycan I have ever seen. Don’t ever let them take that title from you again.”
Enid’s smile falters slightly and Wednesday catches something streaking across her eyes. But, it comes and goes far too quickly for Wednesday to process what it possibly could be. Her blue eyes examine her face and it feels far too intimate. Something about her eyes, how they slowly drag over Wednesday’s face, makes her feel exposed. Like her skin has been peeled back and Enid is handling her organs.
Maybe not the best analogy.
She hums. “So, you also think I’m gorgeous?” She teases as her giggles start and Wednesday can feel her face heat up. She internally scolds herself for letting that slip.
“I loathe you, Sinclair.”
Her laughter fades out as she shrugs her shoulder. “Don’t think I’m much of a Sinclair anymore.”
Wednesday nods thoughtfully. No of course not, it wouldn’t make sense for her to call Enid by that name anymore. Although, Wednesday will miss it. It was a part of the dance they did daily. But perhaps, a new step could be added.
"You should just be Enid Addams." The thought escapes before Wednesday has time to even process it fully. She’s just thankful Enid can be dense sometimes.
She awes and pulls their still joined hands into her chest. “Is that your way of proposing to me, Addams?” She smirks and Wednesday can’t tell if she wants to stab her or kiss her.
"No of course not.” She rolls her eyes at the joke but hates to admit that a grin of hers wants to appear. “It is, however–” her mouth becomes dry and her words stall in her throat.
For once in her life, she did not fully think this through. She did not plan ahead and meticulously think out each word. She didn’t carefully craft out each thought and make backup plans for any response Enid would give.
Her mouth hangs slightly open as she freezes in place. Enid senses the internal struggle and she drops her snarky mask in favor of caring eyes and an encouraging smile.
“However, what?” Now, both her thumbs rub over Wednesday’s hand, creating mindless patterns and leaving a trail of goosebumps. She tilts her head slightly, a few strands of her hair fall over her cheekbone, and Wednesday is fully convinced that her heart lies in Enid’s hands.
“It’s an opening to my proposition for a date." She rushes out clearly and confidently.
Enid’s entire body snaps up straight. Her hands drop from Wednesday’s and her eyes double in size. She looks every bit like a deer caught in headlights and Wednesday finds it,
Cute. Sickly cute. God, she’s nauseated with herself.
“Is this a joke? Did I mishear you and ‘date’ means another night hunting the monster?”
Her own eyebrows furrow. She thought she was pretty clear with her words. “Why would I joke about my interest in wanting you romantically? And I have also never referred to our investigation as a ‘date.’” She clarifies even more.
But, Enid continues to stare intently, her eyes shifting back and forth between Wednesday’s left and right eye. She allows the staring and examination, Wednesday understands that perhaps Enid may be shocked and confused, but have there not been signs? Have they not been courting one another? Granted, it did take Wednesday until a few minutes ago to see it. But, she would assume that Enid had known. Sure, Wednesday’s dry remarks and her ‘loathing’ attitude may be taken out of context, but she was sure that Enid possibly liked her this entire time.
Wednesday has always enjoyed the silence, but this silence is deafening. A lump forms in her throat and suddenly she feels like a 7-year-old who just did something embarrassing and recognizes it is embarrassing.
She clears her throat and swallows her pride. “I do apologize if I have interpreted everything wrong. Your silence is enough and I can have myself transferred to another–”
Enid quickly, but gently, grabs Wednesday’s face. Her hand is clammy and slightly shaking, but it doesn’t stop the butterflies in Wednesday's stomach. A slow smile creeps up on Enid’s face and her eyes are finally grounded back, staring deeply into Wednesday’s own.
Her hand begins to caress her face, her nails scratching lightly. “You would want to date some sunshine Lycan?” Her voice is barely a whisper, more of a question to herself.
“σε λατρεύω.” Wednesday whispers back, praising herself for getting the pronunciation right. She certainly knows she’s correct as Enid's hand comes to a standstill, her breath catching as well.
“Y-you know Greek ?” She squeaks out, a red blush crawling up her neck.
“I started learning the night you told me you were half Greek.” Her voice is coated in affection and she tries to compose herself. Enid hasn’t even agreed to a date yet. “I always wanted another language under my belt.” She adds, her voice more steady.
Enid's breathing stutters and each breath washes over Wednesday’s face. Their close proximity is almost startling. She hadn’t noticed it at all, she had been too enchanted by Enid. The air around them seems to shrink and drain Wednesday of her oxygen. She takes longer, deeper breaths, and is Enid doing the same?
Has she always had green in her eyes? So fascinating.
Enid grows bold and guides Wednesday’s jaw towards her. Her fingers gently gripping her face and Wednesday has never felt more devoted to someone. She stops short, her lips just barely brushing over Wednesday’s.
“And…what else do you know?”
“Anything you want, αγάπη μου.” That’s all it takes and Enid closes the gap. A pyromaniac could not possibly make bigger explosions than what Wednesday is experiencing now. Her heart squeezes painfully and threatens to explode inside her chest. Chills colder than hypothermia assault down her spine and reach out to every inch of her body, but it morphs and turns into an addictive warmth. Her lungs start to burn and Wednesday isn’t too sure when to pull away and–
Enid is smiling as she kisses Wednesday. Oh, wow.
It’s so infectious and before she can stop herself, Wednesday’s own smile forms–her real smile. The smile she only reserves for her family, the one that no one here at this hell hole has experienced.
Except, now, Enid.
Wednesday is the first to pull away and open her eyes. What an honor it is to see Enid’s eyes flutter open, a slightly dazed look in her eyes.
It only takes a second for her eyes to clear and lock onto the new feature on Wednesday’s face.
"Oh my god, you have a dimple." Wonderment is wrapped in her voice and Wednesday wishes she would’ve shown Enid her smile sooner. Her thumb affectionately strokes the dimple as her eyes drift across Wednesday’s face. “Who would've guessed, Wednesday Addams full of sparkles,” she says as her thumb glides across the bridge of her nose, “and dimples.”
The tiniest of chuckles leaves Wednesday. “Sparkles?”
“Your freckles.” She gushes. “I have always loved them. Now, I get to see them up close.” Her fingers trace over each one and Wednesday wonders if Enid is mentally counting them.
Fire and electricity pop across her face. The tender, loving touches are almost too much for her, her emotions running through her like rockets. So many are all going at once and Wednesday curses them for being so hard to decipher. Her eyes sting with unshed tears and she feels the need to run and lock herself away. To calm herself down and sort through her emotions until she can go back to feeling nothing. To turn her emotions back down, so she can no longer hear them and they can just be on subtitles. But, each gentle pass of Enid’s fingers just makes Wednesday melt further and further into her touch. It makes her want to stay, to just let her emotions control her if it means she can just be right here. It almost feels overstimulating but she craves any contact with Enid right now, and she knows she’ll yearn for her once they pull away.
Almost as if Enid read her mind, her other hand comes up and cups Wednesday’s face lovingly, both thumbs now wiping at her cheeks and–
Oh, Wednesday is crying. When did that happen?
Her fight or flight starts to kick in and she needs to isolate herself. She knew it was all too much, she should’ve listened to her brain instead of her nuisance of a heart. Now, she just looks so utterly pathetic. Crying in front of Enid. What will she think? How could she ever say yes? She couldn’t possibly want to be with an Addams that cries over simple affection. Wednesday should just–
“Sorry, I should've asked if you were okay, but you were still smiling and your eyes seemed so far away. I just figured you needed a second to register that you were crying.” She says with care, not a single tone of judgment in her voice. Only understanding and patience.
Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow and she slowly tries to process the right words to say. She knows why she's crying, but how can she convey it to Enid? How can she begin to convey that being touched in any way sends her body into a frenzy of sorts? That she loves affection, but it floods her entire being to the point that her emotions collide and crash with each other. That her body goes through a Great War and she can’t contain it and it flows out through her eyes.
"I get it you’re touch starved.” She sums it up so simply. Of course, she would know, she’s a clever girl after all.
"It can be overwhelming and it can bring up a lot of big and confusing emotions, yeah?" The way she says it, the soft tone, the understanding, it makes Wednesday’s chest tighten and throat close up. Another wave of tears pushes into her head and inches their way out of her eyes. The stone in her throat prevents her from speaking and even if she could, she wouldn’t have anything to say. She only nods.
Enid nods back and guides Wednesday forward until their foreheads are resting together. Her hands slide down and Wednesday feels desperate to keep Enid close. Her own hands jump out and capture Enid’s hands. Her heart rumbles as Enid eagerly laces their fingers together before their tangled hands rest between them.
"Well lucky for you, touch is my main love language." Her warm breath still smells of toothpaste and Wednesday worries she hasn’t eaten yet. Bizarre considering Enid eats about 50 3-course meals a day.
Wednesday lets out a content sigh as she nods, their noses brushing at the action. "Mine as well, despite my hostility." Enid giggles before pulling back, her eyes twinkling with magic all her own.
"Awe, has Addams gone soft for little ol’ me?" Her smirk is full of teasing and mirth and Wednesday knows the next step in this dance. She retorts back with some snark and Enid delivers another one and then Wednesday makes a half-hearted threat. She can easily think of a thousand different sarcastic comebacks, but with all these new revelations, she knows something better to say.
She cocks an eyebrow and tilts her head slightly. “I absolutely have. This is all only for you, mi amor. ”
Enid's eyes widen in shock and her face lights up scarlet. “Geez, so this is what it’s going to be like, dating an Addams?”
“Yes. We, Addams, are very affectionate, despite me trying to reject it.” She chokes down her pride for this next part. “I suppose my father has always been right. It’s just programmed into us to be like this for our partner.” She pauses a moment and tilts her head the other way. “Although, you never clarified if you would let me take you on a date.”
Enid deadpans. “Seriously, Addams. I kissed you.”
“Still not a verbal confirmation.”
“I feel like it was pretty obvious.”
“Then you’ll have no problem saying it, won’t you?”
“You just want to hear me tell you I wanna be yours don’t you?”
Wednesday shrugs a shoulder. “Oh no, you found out my plan. Whatever shall I do?” Comes her sarcastic remark. Enid narrows her eyes before bringing Wednesday’s bandage hand up. She places a soft kiss on her knuckles and, yup, Wednesday just lost this dance.
“I would be honored to go on a date with you, Wednesday.” Her smirk is idiotic and Wednesday should hate it, she did hate it, but it just makes Enid more endearing now.
“Can I still call you Addams? Or are we gonna be this nauseating all the time?”
“Of course, you can call me that or whichever affectionate name you desire. I was assuming we would still be snarky and witty in public.” Enid nods in agreement, smile still in place. “But, I do request that we could, perhaps, be like this when it's just us. I would love that.” Her voice fades out quickly at her last sentence. She feels a bit shy about the request, but she has no reason to be. If it was possible, Enid’s eyes melt and her smile turns to a dopey expression.
She leans forward and places a kiss on Wednesday’s forehead. “Of course, ΦΕΓΓΑΡΙ μου. Whatever you want as well.”
ΦΕΓΓΑΡΙ μου. Wednesday is still a novice to Greek and she desires to ask Enid what that word means. But, she’ll stow it away for now. She would rather figure it out on her own, make it a little surprise for herself.
“If I could transform, my ears would be popped up and my tail would be a waggin’.” Enid gushes.
Wednesday smirks, this was almost too easy. Maybe a little teasing would be fine.
“Hmm, you really are a, what was that word Yoko used again?” Wednesday takes a dramatic pause and pretends to mull it over. Enid can sense the lie and she has her eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes, a furry?”
And just like that, Enid all but rips herself away from Wednesday and storms out of their room. A loud “I'm not a fucking furry!” Is heard echoing down the hall with a faint, “Yoko!” following behind.
Wednesday laughs to herself and calmly stands, her knees slightly buckle. She takes a moment to compose herself and makes her own way after Enid’s voice. She definitely doesn’t want to miss the violence that’s about to ensue.