Chapter Text
“Alright,” Yoko said. “Spill.”
Enid laughed nervously. “What?”
Yoko looked deeply unimpressed over her sunglasses.
“Was it the laugh?” Enid asked, resigned already.
“Definitely the laugh,” Yoko said. “Not that I wouldn’t know already. I’ve never seen you late to class before.”
Enid’s face went very warm. She figured it was better to not say anything at all, but it was surely painted all over her face based on the way Yoko got a lecherous grin that had Enid rolling her eyes despite her embarrassment.
“Oh, wow,” Yoko said, drawing it out a little too long. They finished packing their things and walked out of the classroom to lunch together. “So, that creepy little roommate of yours finally made her move, huh?”
“Don’t call her creepy,” Enid defended automatically, though there was no malice in Yoko’s voice. On the contrary, Yoko, more than most of their friends, seemed to really enjoy Wednesday’s strangeness. Creatures of the night, Enid supposed, even more than herself. “And even if that were true, how do you know I wouldn’t have made the first move?”
Yoko shot her such an openly doubtful look that Enid spluttered automatically. “First of all,” Yoko said, “she specifically told me to call her spooky. And second, you’d sooner pitch yourself off the roof than make your little goth even in the realm of uncomfortable. I was convinced we’d all wait a decade for anything to finally happen.”
“We?” Enid squawks indignantly.
“And what are you getting all defensive for anyway, huh?” Yoko pushed, her fangs peeking out of her grin. “Gay ass.”
“Shut up!” Enid snapped, heat filling her face even more, shoving at her friend. “God, you are so…”
“Charming,” Yoko finished. Enid thought she saw her incisors actually twinkle in the light like a cartoon.
Enid blew all the air out of her nose. Yoko, aside from Wednesday, was her best friend, and despite her teasing, Enid knew that Yoko really was trying to help her open up. It seemed Enid was perhaps the only student in the school who knew how to openly discuss things, and everyone else took strange, roundabout ways of hinting at them.
“Just,” Enid sighed, and Yoko already looked victorious. “We haven’t, like… talked about a lot of stuff yet. We didn’t have time.”
Yoko raised an eyebrow, a roguish grin on her face.
“Not like,” Enid started with a splutter, and shoved her again. “Cut it out!”
“Okay, okay,” Yoko laughed. “Seriously, what’s up?”
Enid pursed her lips. “Fine, just–this is between us.”
“Of course,” Yoko said immediately, and Enid smiled. She’d assembled quite the little family at school. She couldn’t imagine talking to any of her blood relations with so much support and surety.
“Well, we, um,” Enid began falteringly. She wanted to share, actually she was kind of bursting at the seams to, but she didn’t want to mention Wednesday’s issues even to Yoko. It felt quiet and sacred, the way Wednesday had whispered to her, nudged their fingers together, rested her forehead against Enid’s. That wasn’t even touching the heart-wrenching confession about Wednesday’s self-inflicted touch-starvation that Enid still was astonished she’d survived.
“We talked last night,” she said finally. “About some things she’s been, like, going through.”
Yoko just nodded silently in acknowledgement. Wednesday’s unwellness, as it were, had been noticeable to pretty much anyone even passingly familiar with her.
“So, yeah, we talked and we, um, went to sleep,” Enid said quickly, hoping to brush by it, but Yoko pounced immediately.
“You slept together?” she pressed, her eyebrows going up. How she’d even managed to deduce that from Enid’s words was anyone’s guess. Enid pointedly did not think about how hot her face felt.
“Don’t say it like that,” she hissed, glancing around the corridor. No one was paying attention to them, the raucous herd of teenagers all wandering the campus for lunch. “We just–slept.”
Yoko hummed consideringly. “All night?”
“Almost,” Enid muttered. She recalled disentangling herself from Wednesday when her bladder demanded it in the small hours of the morning, and the sight she’d encountered when she’d returned. Wednesday had been twisted in her sheets, writhing and panting out something like whimpers out that made Enid’s hackles raise as she dove to the bed to wake her. “We woke up for a bit and, um, talked some more.”
“Talked,” Yoko repeated amusedly. “I’ll bet you did.”
“We did!” Enid insisted.
“Sure,” Yoko consoled. “About what?”
Enid felt the grin creep up on her face helplessly, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. “Did you know her full name is Wednesday Friday Addams?”
Yoko actually looked thrown by that before a similarly gleeful look appeared on her face. “Are you serious?”
Enid nodded as she giggled. She couldn’t help it. The whole thing just tickled her so much.
“But that’s literally so cute,” Yoko said, laughing now as well. “And she’s so…”
“I know!” Enid agreed. “I know. She told me that and I just–I mean what was I supposed to do?”
“So she told you her absurdly adorable name, and you kissed her?” Yoko demanded. Again, how she managed to pull so much from Enid’s deliberately sparse recollection was ridiculous.
“No,” Enid replied almost dreamily. She’d thought she blew it, the heady urge to lean in overwhelming and making her brush much too close to Wednesday, deeply intimate without warning and overwhelming poor Wednesday, who’d seemed to flinch out of instinct more than anything. Enid was more than willing to help that instinct fade. Especially as she’d watched as Wednesday had seemed to gather herself and her courage and peek up at Enid through her lashes, teeth worrying at her lip, and then step back into that closeness. “She kissed me.”
She’d almost had the absurd thought that she was dreaming as it happened. If Wednesday hadn’t already clawed at her hand (and looked so troublingly regretful after), Enid would have assumed that she was in some fantasy conjured by her mind. Wednesday, the faintest pink on her cheeks, eyes closed, seeming to savor every sensation when Enid had opened her eyes after.
“Finally,” Yoko said with a drawn out, dramatic sigh, though she sounded genuinely pleased. “And you got her to actually sleep?”
Enid nodded, trying to wrench her mind from the memory of Wednesday’s lips on hers to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, like, twelve hours total.”
“Good,” Yoko said firmly. “Because I’m gonna be real with you, I can sense the vitality of people and Wednesday was, like, dying or something.”
Enid flinched hard, then gaped at her friend. “What?”
“Yeah,” Yoko shrugged. “Her life force was getting super weak.”
Enid stared, her ears starting to ring. “And you weren’t going to, I don’t know, say something?”
Yoko got an offended look on her face. “I literally gave you to her whenever I could, did I not?
Enid opened her mouth to reply and then suddenly had a film-style montage play in her head of every time in the past few weeks Yoko had seemingly shoved Enid at Wednesday when their paths crossed. Enid always grew so acutely worried for the lifeless Wednesday that she seemed to have never actually asked why Yoko kept literally manhandling her around their friend.
“Why,” Enid managed finally, “would you not simply use your words, Yoko.”
Yoko threw up her hands, looking only playfully offended. “Well, it obviously worked, didn’t it?”
Enid couldn’t even bring herself to be mad, an incredulous sort of laughter bubbling out of her as she recalled the sensation of lying in bed, Wednesday curled up in her arms. “Yeah. I guess it did.”
“You’re welcome,” Yoko chimed, looking very pleased with herself. It made Enid giggle harder, especially when Yoko joined in.
“Next time,” Enid said when she could catch her breath, “if someone is dying, please just say that out loud to someone.”
“Fine,” Yoko dragged out. “Only because you said please.”
Yoko peeled off a moment later to the blood bank to get her lunch after making Enid swear they’d talk more about it (the kiss ) later, and Enid continued on to meet with Wednesday for lunch.
Wednesday.
Just thinking about her made Enid’s stomach swoop and her heart flutter in her chest. The sensations weren’t unfamiliar, but they’d taken on new life since last night. Now, it was all too easy for Enid’s mind to supply details about the way the muscles in Wednesday’s stomach clenched when Enid brushed them, and how Wednesday’s breathing shuddered so quietly that Enid felt it under her hands more than she heard it, and how Wednesday had dimples , oh, don’t even get Enid started on the dimples . She was deeply obsessed with the dimples.
She could picture them even now every time she blinked. She could imagine walking right up to Wednesday, a hand brushing her cheek, Wednesday’s tiny, barely there grin she got when she leaned in to kiss Enid, wrapping her arms around her to block out the whole world for them–
But. They weren’t in the sanctity of their dorm room. They were very much in public now. And Enid hadn’t thought, hadn’t considered that… Well, the last thing they'd said after waking up almost late to class was a hasty farewell, where Wednesday grabbed Enid's face and kissed her soundly for just a few moments before dashing down the hallway to school.
(It was why Enid was late to class. She’d stood stock still in their doorway for too long.)
But still, no discussion of their relationship or Wednesday’s feelings about PDA. Truthfully, Wednesday could barely seem to withstand Enid’s restrained touch in the privacy of their dorm, which was completely understandable after so much time deprived of it. Additionally, Wednesday was a very private person, Enid knew this very well, and she probably wouldn't want Enid to walk right up to her and lay one on her.
So, should she act normal? But she didn’t want to discourage Wednesday from reaching out, not when she was still so tentative and any setback could hurt her even further. Enid wasn’t willing to risk that. Wednesday seemed to view her need for affection as a problem or a failure, something that Enid felt woefully out of her depth handling. She figured that the best she could offer was open, vehement support any time Wednesday reached out.
So, should she wait for Wednesday to make a move? She had no idea when that would be. Maybe not ever–which didn’t upset her! If Wednesday felt that she could only be vulnerable when it was the two of them alone, well, that was only more heartwarming to Enid. That Wednesday trusted her so much. Enid didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that trust.
So wrapped in this concern, Enid was, that she didn’t know who was grasping at her arm until she turned her distracted gaze over and realized that Wednesday had appeared and had slipped her hand into the crook of Enid’s elbow. In that instant, it was as though Enid was a dashing prince and Wednesday was the beautiful princess daintily holding onto a proffered, chivalrous arm. Her frantic, rambling thoughts seemed to crash like a wave against a shore, and she just stared stupidly at Wednesday.
Wednesday did not let that deter her, tugging Enid along to the courtyard they always had lunch in, seeming unconcerned about the sudden, pointed murmuring heard from behind them. Enid thought her brain was melting out of her ears entirely.
“Let me guess,” Wednesday drawled in that distressingly pleasant sounding way she did when she was teasing. “Buh?”
Enid nodded, though her face was splitting into a blinding grin. She couldn’t help it. Not when Wednesday’s hand squeezed just a little firmer on the inside of her arm and Enid realized that all she had to do was tilt her chin down a little and she would be able to kiss Wednesday if Wednesday met her halfway.
Wednesday’s mouthed curled just a bit at the corner. “Wipe that stupid look off your face,” she said quietly.
Enid laughed, pleased when Wednesday’s cheeks just barely pinked.
They got to the table they always used at lunch, occupying the same bench as they always did.
(It probably should have been her first clue, honestly. Why would Wednesday tolerate Enid sitting so close to her every day if she wasn’t longing for it?)
Enid watched Wednesday pull out her lunch–packed by Thing, who also packed Enid’s–and finally managed to spit out some of her tangled thoughts.
“I just wasn’t sure. Um, if you would want other people to know.”
Wednesday raised a single eyebrow. For some reason, it reminded Enid of Bianca. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Enid was honestly more surprised with how Wednesday didn’t try and dodge the unasked question rather than her very unhelpful answer. Though for any other person, that would be a cagey reply, Wednesday would only ask if she really sought clarity.
Enid couldn’t stop grinning, even as her stomach twisted nervously. “We just didn't, um, talk about it. PDA and stuff.”
Wednesday’s mouth twitched again, but in the wrong direction this time, a faintly displeased slant to her mouth. “I see. I’ve made you uncomfortable with such a public display.”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Enid said quickly. “I totally don’t care, and everyone already knows that I’m, like, the affectionate one and you just tolerate me.”
Wednesday’s posture somehow went stiffer. She turned her head to look right at Enid’s face. “Enid,” she said, and waited until Enid turned to meet her eyes directly. She felt her stomach flutter looking at those dark eyes. “I don’t kiss people that I just tolerate. Okay?”
The last word hung like a sort of peace offering between them, as though Wednesday had done something wrong, as though Enid’s higher processing function hadn’t completely shut down and she could only let the last few seconds of their conversation replay in her head.
“You like me,” Enid said dumbly.
Wednesday backed up a little, looking like she thought Enid was being very strange. “I’m sure we’ve established that by now.”
Enid grinned again, feeling a bubbly sort of giddiness well up in her. “Oh my god, you like me!”
Wednesday didn’t look particularly moved. “I feel like I’ve made myself clear.”
Enid felt starry-eyed. She shifted her weight, bumping shoulders with Wednesday so they rocked together a moment. “I just hadn’t thought about it like that yet. Wow.” A thought struck Enid like a bolt of lightning. “Does that mean that we’re…?”
Wednesday tilted her chin back towards Enid, blinking up at her through her eyelashes. “We’re what, Sinclair?”
Flirting, Enid thought, feeling dizzy at the realization. Wednesday was flirting with her. Enid felt her cheeks go hot and her stomach lurch and her heart squeeze in a painfully good way.
“I really, really like you, Wednesday,” she said in a rush, the words tumbling over each other like she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “And I really, really want to be your girlfriend.”
Wednesday’s face pinked again, almost invisible unless you were as close as Enid, and though she fought it, there was no mistaking the pleased little smile that crept onto her face. Enid adored those little smiles. She thought she could embarrass herself endlessly if it would keep making that look appear on Wednesday’s face.
“Alright,” Wednesday conceded, her voice level. “Since you begged.”
Enid laughed and leaned forward to press a clumsy kiss against the side of Wednesday’s head, just above her ear. Wednesday jolted and Enid wondered if she’d just misstepped, but Wednesday settled a moment later, her face placid, though her eyes darted up to meet Enid’s with a shiny sort of softness.
“That was okay?” Enid asked softly, glancing around to see if anyone was looking at them. They had a somewhat secluded corner and no one seemed concerned with their quiet conversation. Still, she really didn’t want to push Wednesday too hard too fast.
“Your concern is touching,” Wednesday deadpanned, though she bumped her foot against Enid’s next to it, leaving the toes of their shoes connected.
“I don’t know why I even try to be nice to you,” Enid griped good naturedly, bumping their shoulders again.
“You know, the definition of insanity is trying something over and over and expecting a different result,” Wednesday said, her eyes glinting with a kind of humor Enid recognized. Laughing at herself, because they both knew that Enid seemingly had only needed to keep working at Wednesday’s friendship before it settled to become ironclad between them.
“Aren’t you the crazy one, or something?” Enid teased back.
“We prefer kooky,” Wednesday said. How she managed even that with a straight face, Enid didn’t know.
Bianca stalked through the courtyard and somehow clocked Wednesday and Enid in record time. Her eyes flicked between them as she approached rapidly, coming to stand next to their table, beside Wednesday. She seemed intent on something and Enid knew she was about to bear witness to another one of their spats they both seemed to weirdly enjoy.
“Addams,” Bianca greeted sharply. “Seems you’re chipper today.”
“What do you want?” Wednesday demanded, though she didn’t lean back out of Bianca’s space, seemingly content to let Bianca loom over her.
Bianca raised her eyebrow at the acidic tone, though Enid wasn’t sure why. It was how the two of them always spoke to each other: hostile and belligerent even in mundanity. “Wow,” she drawled. “It’s like I can’t even check on a friend.” Enid can’t really tell if Bianca is being truly malicious or truly playful, and she’s starting to think, watching her and Wednesday’s very strange friendship (though neither would ever call it that), that they might be the same thing to Bianca.
Wednesday, in response, got that snobby upturn of her nose that all three of them knew drove Bianca absolutely insane. “If you must know, I slept a respectable twelve hours last night, you harpy.” That she actually answered Bianca’s question in the end was almost cute. They could be as terse as they’d like, but there was no hiding their care for each other.
The thought was only compounded by how Bianca seemed almost pleased by the answer. Though she did question, “Harpy?”
“What else should I call you?” Wednesday drawled. “What with the way you’re hovering?”
Bianca’s face slid into a truly mean looking smile that made Enid’s spine go a little stiffer, the idea to step between them springing into her mind so urgently that she stood up before she could think. She knew for sure that Wednesday and Bianca were friends who cared for each other, and she also knew that they liked to fight, even physically, very often. Wednesday was a little better today, but a single night's sleep couldn’t fix all the effects of long term fatigue.
Thankfully, Bianca didn’t blink at the movement, not taking any physically aggressive stance. “Well, glad to see you so peachy, Addams,” she said, sounding cheerful in an odd way. She raised her arm and thumped it with a surprisingly playful roughness off of Wednesday’s shoulder before strutting off.
Wednesday rattled with the movement, jarred at the surprising touch, before the look on her face shifted to openly, deeply, obviously annoyed in a way she seldom was.
Enid was so struck by the scene that she started laughing hard enough to make her buckle forward, hands resting on her knees. She spluttered through them, trying to muffle them if only for the sake of Wednesday’s feelings, but she could barely manage to raise her head again. When she did, she saw that the incredulous look had been turned onto her and started laughing even harder, knees buckling until she sat a little too hard on the bench behind her, almost hacking out the laughter.
“I’m so glad to see you entertaining yourself,” Wednesday said flatly, her face returning to her usual neutrality. Enid didn’t think she’d forget about the truly mutinous look on Wednesday’s face when Bianca smacked her hard on the back like a father awkwardly clapping his grown son on the shoulder.
“Your face,” Enid tried to explain through her stringy giggles. “Wednesday, your face .”
Wednesday’s face twitched then, but it wasn’t that same, absurdly annoyed look. It was something else, something Enid had never seen, something that made her hiccuping laughter trail off. It was gone in an instant, of course. It always was.
Wednesday cleared her throat and Enid felt her stomach drop.
“Whoa, hey,” she said, feeling suddenly nervous. “I’m really sorry, Wednesday, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t,” Wednesday said quickly. “I don’t even have any.”
Enid couldn’t bring herself to even chuckle, feeling uneasy. She knew she hurt Wednesday’s feelings. That look on her face, the one Enid hadn’t recognized but made her heart squeeze, it wasn’t nothing. It couldn’t be. It hurt too much to see.
Wednesday, perhaps seeing Enid’s unease, shuffled closer again, their ankles hooking together under the table. The feeling didn’t fully fade, but it certainly subsided as Wednesday intentionally pressed them together, getting that shy, avoidant look as she initiated contact with Enid. Their hands sat on the table in front of them and Enid chanced sliding her hand over until just her pinky bumped Wednesday’s. Her heart bloomed warm when Wednesday slid her pinky to cover Enid’s.
“You didn’t,” Wednesday said again, her voice just a shade warmer. “You just reminded me of something. You wouldn’t have known.”
“Oh,” Enid said quietly. “Well, could you,” she started, then stopped.
Wednesday canted her head a little closer, prompting Enid to go on.
Enid swallowed nervously. Getting Wednesday to open up required a very delicate dance, a careful weighing of Wednesday’s feelings that were not quick or easy to read. Again, the worst thing she could do is scare Wednesday into retreating into herself once more. But Wednesday, she reminded herself, was more courageous than anyone Enid had met, facing down monsters and her own twisted emotions with a set jaw of determination.
“Could you tell me about it? What I reminded you of?” Enid asked quietly. The courtyard was full of noise around them and she checked again to ensure no one was paying them any mind. When Wednesday didn’t reply right away, Enid turned back to her, quickly adding, “Just so I don’t do it again! Remind you, I mean.”
Wednesday, thankfully, only looked faintly pensive, eyes cutting back to Enid. “You’re already aware of most of the story.”
Wednesday might as well have handed her two pieces of a thousand piece jigsaw and asked her to describe the picture. Still, she tried to reverse engineer her answer. Her face, Enid kept saying, and Wednesday had seemed… upset in some specific way Enid couldn’t pinpoint. She wished Wednesday would just say it so she could fix it— but Wednesday was not a broken thing to be fixed, and if she just said her feelings outright, she wouldn’t be the Wednesday Enid cared for so much.
“I know I’ve been,” Wednesday went on, pausing there for a moment, and adding a withering sounding, “ unlike myself lately.”
Enid prayed hard that the derision was aimed at her sleep deprivation and not her slowly blooming affection towards Enid. She was reassured slightly by their still connected pinkies.
“My control,” Wednesday stressed delicately, “has been slipping.”
Enid blinked. “Control over, um, what, exactly?”
Wednesday only looked up at her, any emotion scrubbed from her face. Her gaze was still heavy, though, even if Enid couldn’t read it. She felt like she was missing something obvious, though the idea that Wednesday’s feelings could be obvious was almost absurd, even if she had marginally opened up lately.
“Oh,” Enid said, the thought flipping a switch in her brain.
“Yes,” Wednesday said, averting her eyes again. Her chin didn’t drop and her mouth didn’t twitch, but Enid could still tell she felt embarrassed and resisted the urge to panic. She couldn’t handle scaring Wednesday off, not now, after everything.
But Wednesday was her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. She’d said yes. She agreed. Enid felt gooey about it. She tried to beat back her own fear, reassuring herself by thinking about how brave and decisive Wednesday was. Bolstered by that, she leaned closer again, shoulders curling so she could hunker next to Wednesday, her bowed shoulders forming something like a barrier around them.
“The sleep helped,” Wednesday admitted. “And… you.”
Enid couldn’t help her smile, then, her heart fluttering up to sit at the back of her throat.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Wednesday muttered. Despite her words, she leaned closer, her chin nearly brushing Enid’s shoulder.
“Like what?” Enid pressed, though she knew what Wednesday meant. She was sure she had the biggest heart-eyes ever, her cheeks warm and aching with a grin.
Wednesday’s eyes flickered to Enid’s mouth and back up to her eyes. “Just stop it,” she ordered unconvincingly.
“I can’t help it,” Enid laughed, feeling giddy when one corner of Wednesday’s mouth twitched up just barely. “I just like you so much.”
Wednesday straightened a little, meeting Enid’s eyes more directly. “You’re not helping anymore.”
It took Enid a moment to retrace their conversation, too swept up in the bliss Wednesday seemed to elicit with increasing frequency. Not helping Wednesday keep control of herself, she assumed, her eyes finding the little crook of Wednesday’s mouth again.
“Maybe you needed an outlet,” Enid suggested teasingly.
Wednesday’s eyes went a little darker and heat pooled in Enid’s stomach suddenly. “Perhaps,” she conceded, her voice low.
Enid, suddenly flustered, squeaked out, “Glad to help!”
Wednesday blew that amused puff of air out of her nose that made Enid stupidly happy. She averted her eyes again and swallowed noticeably (though it was really only noticeable to Enid, who had focused every iota of her perception on Wednesday). “You have been… patient with me, Enid. I’m very grateful. I assure you I will not always be so trying.”
“Whoa,” Enid protested before she could even think. “Wednesday, no, you haven’t been trying .”
Wednesday’s eyebrow twitched doubtfully, her mouth only just turning down at the corners. Enid still doesn’t like the frown. “I’ve humiliated myself considerably this week, Enid, and I would appreciate it if you would let me get out this apology.”
“No,” Enid said firmly, watching Wednesday rear back a little.
“No?” Wednesday repeated, almost befuddled at the notion.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Enid insisted, remembering the way Wednesday had woken from a nightmare and immediately tried to apologize for letting Enid take care of her. Her heart had twisted then and it twisted now. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Wednesday didn’t look convinced. “You had to coddle me like an infant last night.”
“Wednesday,” Enid said quietly, her heart wrenching harder. She shifted, swinging a leg over the bench so she could face Wednesday fully. She flipped her hand over on the table in offering, hoping that Wednesday would snatch it with the eagerness she’d displayed every time Enid had offered so far, which she did. It ached, somehow, seeing how desperately she clung to the affection despite how disparagingly she talked about needing it. “I told you, didn’t I? I want to take care of you.”
Wednesday’s eyes flashed up to meet hers. She twisted slightly to face Enid better, and Enid wondered if it tugged at the scar on her stomach. “I don’t need taking care of,” she muttered, sounding so forlorn that Enid couldn’t feel rejected if she tried.
“Well, I do,” Enid said. “I need to take care of you. It makes me happy.”
Wednesday balked a little at that, looking stunned, as though she hadn’t even considered how happy she made Enid. Like getting to hold her hadn’t been the foremost thing on Enid’s mind for weeks now.
“I just don’t want to be too much,” Wednesday confessed quietly, sounding very small. “I know I–my desires, they can be a lot, and the last thing I would want is to… cling.”
Enid could feel her heart crack a little in her chest at the admission, and the reassurance came easily. “Wednesday, I literally always want to be touching you. If I had it my way, we would be touching every moment we were together.”
Wednesday seemed to consider that. “Alright.”
Enid blinked. “Alright, what?”
“If you so desire,” Wednesday said.
The implication hit and Enid felt almost bewildered at the realization that her girlfriend ( her girlfriend!) just gave her blanket permission to hang onto her at every opportunity. Wednesday added quickly, “But you must tell me the moment you’ve had enough. The instant .”
“That will absolutely not be a problem,” Enid replied, her head fuzzy.
“Promise me, anyway,” Wednesday demanded gently, the quiet steel in her voice making Enid’s spine straighten out without thought, her chin dipping as she agreed to what Wednesday wanted. Whatever Wednesday wanted.
“Sometimes, you’re so agreeable,” Wednesday remarked, sounding pleased by it, and then equally pleased as she added, “And sometimes, you’re not.”
Enid shrugged. “I only disagree when you’re hurting yourself.”
Wednesday blinked, something like confusion in her eyes. “Why do people keep talking about me hurting myself? I don’t.”
Enid connected the dots to Bianca’s unusual hovering , as Wednesday described and tried not to laugh suddenly. “It was hurting you not to touch anyone,” she pointed out, though she thought it was quite obvious. Wednesday was practically flogging herself for it at every turn, even as she gave in and seemed to revel in Enid’s affection.
“I’m uninjured,” Wednesday replied, and for a moment Enid was truly mystified and trying to figure out if Wednesday was messing with her or if she truly didn’t see how miserable and unwell the deprivation made her, especially in the wake of an acute trauma like, oh, getting stabbed and shot and bludgeoned by the ghost of a white supremacist .
“You don’t have to punish yourself,” Enid finally decided on, bypassing the need to bring all of that up.
Wednesday regarded her then, her face so placid that she must’ve been thinking hard about something. Finally, she wet her lips and said, “I don’t know how else to be.”
Enid’s heart fell into her stomach, and she blinked quickly to fend off the faint burn in her eyes and squeezed Wednesday’s hand a little harder. “Well,” she said. “We can figure it out. If you want.”
Wednesday stared at her a little longer. The silence stretched and Enid’s feet started tapping quickly, her nerves making her normal jitters even worse. Finally, Wednesday said, “I suppose.”
Though she’d been antsy and waiting for the answer, it still took a moment to register, and when it did, Enid grinned so hard that she thought it might tear her face in two.
“I said wipe that stupid look off your face, didn’t I?” Wednesday muttered, cheeks pinking.
“Uh-huh,” Enid agreed cheerfully. “And I told you I can’t help it. I like you so much it feels like I’m gonna explode.”
Wednesday smiled just enough for those damned dimples to faintly appear and Enid felt absolutely dizzy at the mere sight of them.
“You should eat,” Wednesday advised. “Lunch is almost over.”
Enid couldn’t help her face falling, realizing that her brief time with Wednesday was nearly over. They’d be separated until after their last class of the day.
Wedesday reached up and set a cool few fingertips against Enid’s cheek, her thumb brushing over Enid’s bottom lip and making Enid’s heart suddenly triple in tempo.
“Don’t pout,” Wednesday chastised, seeming amused. “We’ll have plenty of time to see each other. You’re my girlfriend, after all.”
Enid bloomed under the warmth of Wednesday’s words and touch, fondness filling her up until it was hard to breathe. “I’m your girlfriend,” she agreed, almost hiccuping on the words around the joy in her lungs.
“Wouldn’t want my girlfriend to be late to class,” Wednesday said– teased , even. Her hands slid down from Enid’s face to sit on the junction of Enid’s neck and shoulder, feeling almost hot to Enid’s skin despite how Wednesday’s hands were always cool. “Again.”
“It was your fault,” Enid protested with a whine. “You kissed me again and I couldn’t even think for a few minutes.”
“Then I’d best keep my lips to myself,” Wednesday said quietly, leaning in so the words floated intimately between them. “Or you’ll forget to eat your lunch and go to class.”
She leaned back quickly, turned away, and started to eat her lunch; even without the kiss, Enid still felt like she wavered in place stupidly for a moment. “You’re very mean, Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s mouth quirked and she took another bite.
When their lunch period did end only a few minutes later, Enid hoped that Wednesday would allow a hug before they were separated for a dreadful three more hours. As they stood in the corridor where they would split up, they turned towards each other, but before Enid could even open her mouth to ask, Wednesday reached up and gripped at the lapels of Enid’s blazer. She tugged, just gently, but Enid went pliant basically any time Wednesday touched her, and shifted up slightly on her toes so that she could press her lips to Enid’s.
Later, Enid would hear about the actual gasps a few people let out, how people had been stunned at Wednesday reaching up to kiss anyone, let alone someone as bright and perky as Enid, and how their friends were relieved to learn that Wednesday was seemingly getting better.
Now, though, all that registered was the warmth of Wednesday’s lips on hers, fists resting gently on Enid’s chest, and the way the end of Wednesday’s nose brushed hers just briefly as she pulled back.
“Better hurry, Sinclair,” Wednesday said, voice throaty enough that Enid could at least be relieved she wasn’t the only one so dazed by their kisses. “Or you’ll be late to class again.”
She turned and walked down the hall and Yoko, who’d apparently been only a few feet away, laughed so hard that even Wednesday glanced backwards with a smirk.
As she watched her girlfriend walk down the hall, Enid could only think about how eager she was to be standing next to her again.
And, as Yoko had to drag her down the corridor, that if Wednesday was really going to kiss her every time they separated, well, Enid was going to have to start giving herself extra time to get places.