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The dorm room was unusually quiet. Wednesday had gone out for fencing practice, and the relentless clanking of her typewriter wasn’t drilling into Enid’s head. The silence felt strange — almost too heavy, like the room itself was holding its breath in Wednesday’s absence.
That is until the door swung open. Black shoes stepping foot inside. Enid looked up from her phone, her face breaking into a wide smile.
“Howdy roomie!” she greeted brightly, setting her phone aside. She got up from her bed and crossed the room as her eyes lingered on Wednesday, drinking in her presence. Gorgeous as ever.
“How was fencing practice earlier?” Enid asked.
“It was tolerable, I suppose,” Wednesday replied.
“Tolerable,” Enid teased with a chuckle. “Well, I’m glad it was bearable for you. You look exhausted. Was it hard?”
The shorter girl's brows knitted, she huffed at the question. “Hard? Is that how lowly you think of me?”
“Of course not!” Enid shot back quickly, waving her arms around in defense. "'M sorry." The wolf mutters loud enough for her roommate to hear.
Wednesday's expression soften subtly. “To answer your question, no. They haven’t found one strong enough to handle me.”
Enid laughed at the displeasure in Wednesday’s eyes. “Of course they haven’t. No one’s good enough for you, are they?” she said, arms crossing.
“For once, you’ve gotten something right.”
“Hey!" Enid nudges Wednesday playfully, "Rude!” she huffed, though she couldn’t help but smile.
“Consider yourself an exception,” Wednesday added.
Enid felt warmth rise up to her cheeks, loving the tiny cracks in Wednesday’s composure. She always looked adorable when she was annoyed. “You sure are arrogant, huh?”
The goth hummed in approval.
Before Enid could respond, her phone chimed with a notification. She walked over to her bed, picking up her phone from the tangled sheets.
vamps
⤷ 1 new notification.
: yo wolfy, hosting a party 2night, u up?
She glanced at the message, chuckled at Yoko’s text, and looked back up at Wednesday. And as if the vampire could read her mind, another notification lit up her screen.
vamps: u could also bring ur little gay reaper if u wanna
Enid felt her cheeks heat up once again, quickly turning the phone off and tossing it aside as if that could quiet the thoughts buzzing in her head.
Hers? Wednesday Addams didn’t belong to anyone. She was untouchable, untamed. If anything, it was Enid who belonged to her — like a loyal dog straining at the end of a leash.
The truth was, Enid had liked her for some time. After the Hyde incident, something shifted between them; they had grown closer, close enough for Enid’s heart to betray her in silence.
So she kept it hidden. Admiration pressed tight against her chest, a little secret she carried everywhere. To wish, even for a moment, that Wednesday could be hers.
And that, only Yoko knew.
The pastel-clad girl shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath, as if steadying herself against thoughts she could no longer contain.
“Yoko’s throwing a party. She wants us to go...”
“Us?” Wednesday repeated flatly.
“Yeah, us. Both of us. Why? You don’t wanna go?” Enid tilted her head, feigning innocence.
“I don’t engage in stuff like these. You know that.”
Enid frowned. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! You need to unwind a little after practice, you’ve been too uptight lately.”
“No.”
“Wednesday, pleaseee!” Enid whined, lips jutting into a pout. “We never do anything fun! It’s always schoolwork. or murder, or death!”
Wednesday sighs, “Enid.”
“What?”
A beat.
And then —
“You’ll survive on your own.”
Enid scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, of course I will!” she exclaimed. "But I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, Wends.” she added cheekily, she hoped Wednesday would say yes. “Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“Still no.”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” Enid begged, her blue eyes wide and pleading, her wolfish pout on full display.
Those blue eyes — Wednesday would recognize them no matter the distance. The same piercing blues she would fall for, again and again, as if the world had conspired to remind her of her own undoing.
Wednesday’s gaze met hers once more, cold as ever, but Enid’s persistence chipped away at her wall. She sighed in defeat and looked away, annoyed at herself.
“You’re annoying, do you know that?”
Enid grinned. “Does that mean you’re coming?”
Wednesday rolled her eyes, her expression softening against her will. “Only because I don’t want you moping around here like a grumpy old dog.”
“And we’re going home at 1:00 a.m.,” she added firmly.
Enid chuckled. “1:00 a.m.? That’s lame. Where’s your sense of adventure? 2:30 at the earliest.”
“1:00.”
“Wends! That’s so boringg. Just once, can’t you be reckless? 2:00?”
Wednesday sighed again.
“1:30?” Enid pressed. “Please? I’ll be sober by 2:00, I promise. Pleasee?”
“2:00. No buts, no extensions,” Wednesday relented.
Enid’s smile returned. “You drive a hard bargain. But okay. As long as you try and have fun. No sulking in corners,” she teased.
“Just go do your thing and get ready,” Wednesday said dryly.
“So bossy today, huh?” Enid mocked, heading toward her wardrobe. “Fine, I’m going. But you better get changed too!”
“I most certainly will.”
Minutes later, they were dressed and ready. Enid gave herself one last glance in the mirror, pleased with her reflection. A knock drew her attention — Wednesday stood at the door in a darker, more mature version of her usual attire.
“Don’t look so grim, you’re not dressing for your own funeral!” Enid teased.
“I wish I was,” Wednesday muttered.
They began walking towards the door, the raven holding it open for the other to pass through, causing Enid's usual grin tugging at her lips.
“You know,” she began, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually liked spending time with me.”
Wednesday met her gaze. “If I didn’t, you’d know.” she says as she shuts the door behind her.
Enid laughed, leaning a little closer. “Wow. Way to make a girl feel special.”
“You wanted honesty. I gave you honesty,” Wednesday replied, looking ahead, though her pale fingers twitched ever so slightly at her sides.
“Well, maybe sometimes I want… I don’t know, a compliment?” Enid teased, resting her chin in her hands as she gazed at her.
Wednesday finally raised her eyes, dark and sharp. “Your hair is blinding. Your voice is too loud."
"And yet… tolerable.”
Enid blinked, caught off guard, then giggled again, cheeks warming despite herself. “That’s… that’s your version of flirting, isn’t it?”
Wednesday’s brow furrowed. “No. That was my version of telling the truth. If you want someone to string together pretty lies, find anyone else.”
Enid’s grin softened. “But I don’t want anyone else, Wends.”
A pause. Wednesday stared at her, unreadable, before finally muttering:
“Unfortunate.”
Enid’s laugh filled the room, bright and flustered, while Wednesday returned to her book — though the faintest, almost imperceptible curve ghosted at the corner of her lips.
──── 10:36PM ୨୧
After a few minutes of walking, they reached Yoko’s dorm. Outside, students were already spilling across the steps and lawn — smoking, laughing, drinking, the air alive with music and chatter.
Enid’s smile grew despite Wednesday’s frown. “Cheer up, okay? We’re here to have fun.”
Wednesday’s fingers brushed against her sleeve, a tug so small it was almost imperceptible. A sign to Enid.
Wednesday Addams — ever so cold, ever so unreadable — would never bring herself to admit the truth. To admit that she enjoyed Enid’s company would be to hand over a weakness, and weakness was something she could not afford. Yet, there it was: the quiet comfort of her chatter, the way her smile filled a room that Wednesday herself could never bring light to.
She would never say it aloud, not even under threat of torture, but the thought lingered like an unwelcome ghost — Wednesday didn’t want her to leave. Not now. Not ever. And though her face betrayed nothing, her silence was a confession Enid would never hear.
Enid’s heart softened, still understanding what she meant, her grin widening.
Yoko spotted them instantly, weaving through the crowd with two beers in hand. “E! You actually brought The Wednesday Addams?”
“Of course I did,” Enid said proudly. “She may not look like it, but she wanted to come and take a stab at being social.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “Do not be deceived by her words. I did not.”
"Though I do like stabbing."
Enid rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. “Of course you do.”
Yoko laughed and pressed the drinks into their hands. “Good thing I came prepared. Come on!”
Enid smirked, passing one to Wednesday. “Looks like the party’s just getting started. Think we can actually get you tipsy tonight?”
“Who knows?” Wednesday replied flatly, though the corner of her lip threatened to betray her.
Enid grinned, tugging Wednesday’s hand and threading them through the crowd. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”
──── 11:38PM ୨୧
The dorm was alive with chatter, laughter, and the faint thrum of music muffled through the walls. Wednesday sat across from Enid, talking with a handful of other students. It was an unusual sight, one that made Enid’s lips curl into a smile before she even realized it. Seeing Wednesday’s rigid posture softened by conversation, watching her contribute instead of sit in silence — it was almost surreal.
Enid lifted her beer, chuckling quietly to herself. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening Wednesday’s tongue, making her just a little more social than usual. That had to be it. Still, Enid couldn’t deny it was nice. Really nice.
──── Saturday, 12:00AM ୨୧
The party had carried on well past midnight, alcohol weaving its way through everyone in the room. Both Wednesday and Enid had had their fair share, though Enid remained upright, cheeks flushed from drink and laughter. What surprised her most wasn’t her own stamina — it was how easily Wednesday had settled among the noise, engaging with others without her usual icy scowl.
Then Yoko’s voice cut through the chatter. “Yo, guys! Truth, dare, or drink!” She wore a mischievous grin, the kind that promised nothing good.
Enid groaned and laughed all at once. “Really? We’re playing that game?”
Yoko shrugged, clearly pleased with herself. “Rules are simple. Answer the truth, do the dare, or if you won’t, drink!”
Enid rolled her eyes but leaned forward, already caught up in the moment. The bottle spun, rattling against the floor before landing on a student across the circle. Cheers erupted, followed by the first of many embarrassing dares and confessions.
The circle buzzed with laughter as dares grew bolder and truths became more outrageous. Enid, ever the life of the party, laughed along, though her nerves showed in the way she twisted her rings. Wednesday, meanwhile, sat stiff and collected beside her, an island of calm in the chaos, her face as unreadable as ever. Still, Enid noticed the faintest twitch at the corner of those dark lips whenever someone’s ridiculous answer drew roars of amusement.
Then, inevitably, the bottle landed on Enid.
“Enid Sinclair,” Yoko announced with theatrical glee. “Truth, dare, or drink?”
The circle hushed, all eyes turning toward the pastel-haired girl. Enid bit her lip, cheeks already warm from the alcohol. “Truth,” she said carefully.
Yoko smirked. “Do you like anyone here?”
Gasps and giggles rippled through the crowd. Wednesday’s gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Enid laughed nervously, gripping the neck of her beer bottle. “Yes,” she admitted, voice small but steady.
The room erupted. Everyone leaned closer, hungry for more. Yoko pressed, grin widening. “Ooh, and who is it?”
Enid shook her head furiously, hiding her face in her hands. “Nope! Not saying.”
“Then drink!” someone crowed.
She quickly downed what was left in her cup, avoiding Wednesday’s piercing stare. But she felt it — sharp, unwavering — burning into her like a brand.
The game rolled on, the bottle spinning, students laughing, but Wednesday’s mind stuck on Enid’s nervous laughter, on the blush painting her cheeks. Something in her chest twisted in a way she refused to name.
The bottle spun again, the glass scraping faintly against the wooden floor as the circle leaned in with anticipation. Enid, however, found her eyes fixed not on the spinning blur, but on Wednesday. Each time it had landed on her before, she had chosen the simplest escape — lifting her glass and drinking, offering nothing more than her usual curt responses. It almost seemed intentional, as though she were avoiding more than just the questions or dares.
The bottle slowed, the neck wobbling before finally coming to rest — pointed at Wednesday once again.
“Addams! I dare you—”
“I did not get to choose which one I would want.” Her voice cuts sharp through Yoko’s excitement.
The vampire scoffs, tossing her hair back with dramatic flair. "You're no fun!"
"Fine." She grits through her teeth.
She let her gaze travel slowly around the circle, savoring the suspense, until her eyes locked on a certain person. Her smirk widened.
“I dare you to kiss… Sinclair!”
The circle erupted in laughter and cheers, voices rising with playful chants. Enid nearly choked on her drink, coughing violently as her cheeks flamed. Her eyes darted to Wednesday, heart racing in disbelief. Had Yoko really just dared her to kiss her?
“Pardon?” Wednesday’s voice was low, her expression cool as ever, though her eyes narrowed just slightly at Yoko.
“You heard me,” Yoko shot back with a wicked grin. “Kiss Enid.”
The chanting grew louder, a wave of teasing encouragement sweeping through the group. Yet Wednesday remained still, unbothered by the noise. Her gaze shifted to Enid, steady and unyielding, lingering in a way that made the world around them blur.
Enid’s breath caught in her throat. The cheers faded into a dull roar in her ears, her pulse quickening with every second Wednesday kept her eyes locked on her.
“Must I?” Wednesday asked at last, her tone deceptively simple. But the weight behind the words, the possibility, left Enid’s stomach twisting with nerves and hope all at once.
Enid sat frozen, her breath caught in her throat as Wednesday leaned closer. The room around them fell into a blur — laughter, chants, all muffled under the sharp rhythm of her heartbeat. Wednesday’s face was inches away, her dark eyes locked onto Enid’s with unnerving intensity. Enid could feel the faint brush of her breath, warm and steady despite the alcohol.
God, what is happening right now?
Every part of her screamed to close the distance, to let it happen. She wanted it.
Wanted her..
But not like this.
Not when Wednesday wasn’t herself.
Enid chuckled weakly, forcing a smile as she placed a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder and pushed her back gently. “Yeah, really funny,” she said, the sarcasm slipping through despite her best efforts to hide the sting of disappointment.
It wasn’t because she didn’t want the kiss.
She did. Desperately.
Yoko groaned, rolling her eyes as if the two of them were wasting the group’s entertainment. “Dude, just do the damn dare,” she muttered, clearly annoyed.
Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to Enid, her brows drawing together. She looked almost…offended. “What?”
Enid met her stare, steeling herself. “You’re drunk,” she said firmly, voice low but unyielding. “You’re not in control of yourself right now. You’re not in the right state of mind.”
Wednesday’s expression tightened, but she said nothing. Instead, she reached for the bottle, pouring herself another drink with deliberate calm.
“Woah— hey! What are you doing?” Enid tugged lightly at her sleeve, alarm flashing across her face.
"No,” she said firmly, trying to take the glass from her. “No more tonight.”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered, a dangerous glint beneath the haze of alcohol. She pulled her arm free with a scoff. “And who are you to say that?”
Enid’s jaw tightened. “You’ve had way too much already, Wends.” Her tone was sharp, carrying the edge of frustration.
“No, I have not.”
“Yes, you have.” Enid shook her head, trying to keep her patience. It was like arguing with a stubborn child.
“Let’s just go,” she said finally, her voice raised a notch. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m sober.”
“You’re obviously not sober. You’re drunk, Wednesday.”
“Am not.” The words snapped out of Wednesday’s mouth, sharp and defensive, her usual control unraveling beneath the alcohol.
Enid exhaled, fighting the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Even drunk, Wednesday was insufferably defiant. And yet, despite the chaos, Enid couldn’t help but think she had never wanted her more.
──── 1:32AM ୨୧
“Wednesday. Let’s go, please.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Wednesday, please.”
“Let’s go.”
The words tumbled out of Enid’s mouth again and again, but the raven refused to listen. She was being impossible, stubborn to the point of cruelty. What happened to the responsible, composed Wednesday Addams everyone knew? Because this? This version of her was a nightmare to deal with.
“I’m sober. Let go of me,” Wednesday snapped, brushing Enid’s hand off her arm.
“Wednesday, let’s go back to the dorm,” Enid pressed, her patience thinning.
“I said I was sober.”
“And I said let’s go back to our dorm.”
Wednesday let out a low chuckle, dark and humorless. “Why?” she asked, her tone daring.
“Because you’re drunk?” Enid shot back.
“And how does that affect you? I never asked you to drag me back to my dorm.”
“Correction, our dorm. And plus, you didn’t have to,” Enid countered, exasperation slipping into her voice
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re even harder to handle when you’re drunk, God!” Enid whined, tugging lightly at her sleeve again.
“Not drunk.”
“Yes. Yes drunk.”
“I don’t think so.”
Enid’s shoulders slumped. She didn’t know how much longer she could put up with this back-and-forth.
“You’re acting like a little kid, Wednesday.”
Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Me? Acting like a kid? You’re the one acting utterly insane.”
Despite her frustration, Enid couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Even like this, even being a complete pain in the ass — Wednesday was still…adorable.
“I like being with you, y’know?” Enid blurted, her voice softer now, vulnerable in a way that startled even her. “Everyone says you’re hard to be with, but…”
Her words faltered. Wednesday’s dark gaze had shifted, her eyes trained firmly on Enid’s lips.
“But… I- I don’t see it,” Enid stammered, her chest tightening.
“How can you not?” Wednesday’s voice was quieter this time, edged with something unreadable.
“I like you.”
Wednesday’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“As a friend! of-of course—” Enid rushed out, her nerves tripping over themselves. “You know what I mean! I like- like being with you. That’s what I m-meant... Yeah!”
“Ah. I see.”
“Nothing… nothing else.” Enid added quickly, though her own words betrayed her.
Wednesday tilted her head ever so slightly, her stare unrelenting. Enid swallowed, realizing she had just stepped far too close to the edge of something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.
There was a pause. The silence stretched, heavy between them.
Then Wednesday’s eyes flicked down once more, lingering with clinical precision before she said it. Calm, cutting, and entirely unexpected:
“You talk too much. Your lips are symmetrical. Almost distracting.”
Enid’s face flamed instantly, words catching in her throat. “Wh—what?”
The seer only tilted her head, expression unreadable, as if she hadn’t just dropped the verbal equivalent of a dagger straight into Enid’s chest.
And before Enid could stop herself, the words slipped out like a nervous confession:
“Well, maybe you’d stop staring if you just… kissed me already.”
The moment stretched, Enid realizing too late what she’d said. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, eyes wide. “I—I didn’t mean—! That came out wrong, I swear!”
Wednesday stood motionless, dark eyes fixed on her like a hawk circling prey. For a moment, the only sound was the muffled thump of music bleeding in from the other room.
“Interesting,” Wednesday murmured, her voice cool and unreadable.
Enid’s heart was in her throat. She wanted to run, or disappear.
God forbid a girl digs a hole and bury herself alive. “I mean, not that I—uh— I wasn’t suggesting anything! I just—”
Wednesday stepped closer. Just one step, but it was enough to silence her. Enough to make the space between them feel suddenly unbearable.
“You have a habit of saying exactly what you’re thinking,” Wednesday said, almost clinically, as if she were dissecting her. “And yet, right now… I don’t think you’re lying.”
Enid blinked, her voice caught in her throat. “I— Wednesday—”
Wednesday’s gaze lingered at her lips again, deliberate this time. Her head tilted slightly, raven hair shifting with the movement, and Enid swore she could feel the air charge between them.
But then, just as abruptly, Wednesday pulled back. The smallest, faintest curl of amusement touched her mouth.
“You’re flustered. That’s… entertaining.”
Enid gaped at her, heart pounding so hard she thought it might shake the floor. “That’s evil,” she whispered, half mortified, half thrilled.
“Perhaps,” Wednesday replied coolly. “But you make it very easy.”
The wolf’s protests died the second Wednesday leaned in again. Not fast, not rushed — just that unnerving calmness, like she was following a thought only she could hear.
The Addams girl stopped just short of Enid’s lips, close enough that Enid forgot how to breathe. Then, instead of closing the gap, Wednesday’s mouth brushed against the corner of hers, an almost-kiss, deliberate and far too tender for someone who claimed she felt nothing.
Enid froze, every nerve ending set alight. “Wednesday…” she whispered, her voice breaking.
But Wednesday didn’t answer. She lingered there, her dark lashes lowering as she pressed another faint kiss along the line of Enid’s jaw, then just beneath her cheekbone. A soft, dazed pattern of touches, as if she were memorizing Enid’s features one by one.
The air felt too thin. Enid’s hands hovered in the space between them, unsure if she should push her away or pull her closer. She was drunk, she wasn’t herself.
God, but her lips were warm, and her breath smelled faintly of wine and something darker.
When Wednesday finally stopped, her forehead rested lightly against Enid’s temple. She whispered low, barely audible:
“You make it difficult… to pretend.”
Enid’s heart nearly shattered in her chest.
Wednesday’s lips hovered by the corner of Enid’s mouth, brushing there once, twice, as though testing forbidden ground. Enid could barely hold herself still, her breath catching, her heart hammering so loud she was sure Wednesday could hear it.
Then, without warning, Wednesday shifted — slow, deliberate, her mouth finally finding Enid’s.
It wasn’t rushed, not even desperate. Just soft, unsteady, her lips pressing into Enid’s like she was tracing the outline of a secret she had no right to speak. The taste of alcohol lingered between them, bittersweet, clinging to Enid’s skin.
Enid’s eyes went wide, the world narrowing to that single point of contact. She felt every ounce of Wednesday’s drunken haze in the way she kissed — gentle, searching, as if caught between dream and reality.
And yet, for Enid, it felt alarmingly real.
Wednesday’s lips pressed against Enid’s, soft and unsteady, the taste of alcohol hanging heavy between them. For a second, Enid forgot how to breathe, her whole body locked in place, heart thundering so loudly it drowned out the muffled sounds of the party behind them.
But then reality rushed back in.
She felt Wednesday’s dazed weight in the kiss, the slow drag of her lips, and it cut through Enid like glass. Was this Wednesday — her Wednesday — finally showing something real? Or was it just the liquor steering her, a drunk impulse that meant nothing in the morning?
The thought hurt. Badly.
Her hands twitched, restless, unsure where to go. Before she knew it, she was fisting the hem of her shirt tight, knuckles pale, holding onto the fabric like it could anchor her. Her chest felt too tight, like she couldn’t take in enough air.
She wanted so badly to believe it was real — every gentle press of Wednesday’s lips, every uncharacteristic softness. But the doubt swallowed her whole, leaving her dizzy.
“Wednesday…” Enid whispered against her mouth, barely audible, torn between pulling away and sinking deeper.
Wednesday leaned in once more, lips brushing hers again, featherlight. For a moment Enid almost gave in, almost let herself fall, but the ache in her chest screamed louder than her longing.
She turned her head, breaking the kiss with a sharp breath. “Stop,” she murmured, her voice trembling.
Wednesday froze, blinking, dazed and confused. Her dark eyes searched Enid’s face as though trying to piece together why she’d pulled away.
Enid swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I can’t… not like this.” She gestured weakly toward the half-empty cup in Wednesday’s hand. “I don’t even know if this is really you, or just… the drunk you.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Enid hated the way her voice cracked, hated how much it hurt to say the words. Her heart was pleading with her to lean back in, to forget everything, but her head wouldn’t let her.
She looked away, biting down on her lip so hard it stung. “I want it to mean something, Wednesday. I need it to mean something.”
Enid stayed quiet after that, chest rising and falling too fast, her hand still fisted in her shirt. Wednesday didn’t press further. "Let's just go."
The walk back to Ophelia Hall was anything but quiet. Enid’s arm hovered at Wednesday’s side, not quite holding her, but close enough to catch her if she stumbled. Wednesday, of course, would never admit to stumbling.
By the time they reached the heavy oak doors of their dorm, Enid felt like she had aged ten years. She pushed them open with a huff, ushering Wednesday inside.
“Finally,” Enid muttered, flicking on the lamp at her desk. The soft yellow light filled the room, a sharp contrast to the chaos of the party they’d just left. The silence between them stretched, sharp and fragile, until exhaustion finally pulled at Enid’s limbs. She let herself sink back into the bed, not daring to look at Wednesday again as the night blurred.
──── 6:34AM ୨୧
When morning came, the first thing she noticed was the sunlight streaming through the curtains, warm against her skin. Wednesday’s ears were ringing, her vision still hazy, her skull pounding like a drum. She tried to shift in bed only to realize she couldn’t move — there was weight on her chest, warmth pressed into her side, legs tangled with hers, fingers threaded in her own.
Her eyes lowered. Blonde hair streaked with pink and blue, familiar colorful clothes, the scent she’d learned to recognize without effort. Enid Sinclair.
Wednesday’s face warmed instantly. She loathed how much she didn’t hate this.
“Enid.”
The wolf stirred, eyelids fluttering as she let out a groggy hum. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, snuggling closer and burying her face against the crook of Wednesday’s neck.
“Five more minutes?” Wednesday repeated, incredulous.
“Mhm. I’m tired,” Enid moaned, her voice muffled and low.
Wednesday’s deadpan faltered for the briefest of moments. “You’re in my bed.”
That made Enid blink herself more awake. She slowly looked around, confusion flashing into dawning realization. “I am…?” Her voice cracked. “ I am!”
She bolted upright, "Holy sssshit!-" so quickly she had lost her balance and hit the floor with a groan. “Ow…” She rubbed her head, blonde hair a tousled halo around her.
Wednesday sat up, watching her with narrowed eyes she hoped masked how breathless she felt. Even disheveled, Enid looked… distracting.
Enid scrambled to her feet, gaze dropping to the floorboards. “I’m sorry.”
Her words were too quick, too clipped. Wednesday’s gaze sharpened. “I know what you said last night.”
Enid’s head snapped up, panic flashing across her features. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You like me,” Wednesday pressed flatly.
“What—? How do you even—how do you remember that?” Enid sputtered, her hands fidgeting at her sides.
“I told you I was sober.”
“No. Impossible. You were drunk.”
“I have a good memory.”
Enid let out an awkward laugh, avoiding her gaze. “I said I liked you as a friend.” She started edging toward the door, still chuckling under her breath as if that would erase the weight of her words.
Wednesday’s jaw tightened as she watched her. Wednesday rose from the bed with deliberate calm, her dark gaze fixed on Enid like prey cornered in a trap. She crossed the room in slow, measured steps. “I don’t think friends press their lips against one another.”
“That—” Enid faltered, her gaze avoiding Wednesday's, clutching her shirt over her chest as if to hold herself together. “That was… you were—”
Before she could finish, Wednesday leaned in, swift and decisive, pressing her lips against Enid’s. It wasn’t sloppy or drunk, but controlled — intentional. The kiss was brief, firm, and unyielding, as if she were staking her claim not through words but through action.
Enid’s eyes fluttered shut instinctively, her body betraying her confusion, her hand fisting tighter in her shirt as if to ground herself. When Wednesday finally pulled back, her face remained only inches away, her dark eyes boring into Enid’s like a challenge.
“I wasn’t.” Wednesday’s voice was steady, almost too steady, like she was daring Enid to contradict her. “Does that feel like drunken impulse to you?” She asked quietly, her tone flat but heavy with meaning.
Wednesday tilted her head, gaze dragging down briefly to Enid’s lips before returning to her eyes. “On the contrary,” she said quietly, “I’ve never been more certain.”
Enid’s grip on her shirt finally loosened. Her shoulders sagged as though she had been fighting an invisible battle with herself and lost. Slowly, almost helplessly, she leaned forward, her forehead resting against Wednesday’s shoulder. The warmth between them was immediate, a contrast to the icy composure that Wednesday always seemed to carry.
“You’re so irritating,” Enid mumbled, her voice muffled against Wednesday’s dark clothing, her cheeks burning with heat she couldn’t hide. "A pot to the kettle."
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her lips curling at the corner in the faintest trace of victory. “I burn you?”
Enid huffed, her voice shaky but honest. “You melt me.”