Chapter Text
Eugene wasn't going to slip from his grasp, not now, not ever, not if Pugsley had anything to do with it. Sure, he'd backed down for awhile, but his longing for the other never ceased, never withered, and it never would, not if decades passed them by, not if life on earth ceased to exist-that energy, those feelings, they'd last, they'd linger, because they weren't those of a teenage crush-they were those of a heart that bled black for his love, and black stains much quicker than red. When an Addams loved once, they never loved again, true Addams love couldn't be replaced, not ever, so if Eugene couldn't take the first step, Pugsley would gladly do the first mile. No matter how hard anyone tried to extinguish the flame of Pugsley's feelings, the candle kept on burning, and even when it would eventually melt, the wick would go down with it, never truly alone, even in death. Wax or not, the Addams boy was determined to do something to restart their spark. (Not that it'd ever gone away, not fully, it was just dim, the glow fading, nevertheless it was still there, still forgeable.)
To say that Pugsley felt absolutely horrible and nauseated around Eugene was an understatement, he felt brutally tortured and poisoned-which was a good thing for an Addams, of course. He enjoyed the feeling of sickness, and he'd never felt more lightheaded and fatigued than with Eugene, so he wasn't going to let the other get away from him that easily. Finding Eugene in the late hours of the night wasn't difficult at all, the hard part was getting to him before he could run. Like a wolf stalking a rabbit, one fast and sharp, the other faster yet soft-a match made in heaven and hell, bound to chase eachother for eternity, if only to be caught after all the work was done, if only to fill half a stomach than the desired full meal. Maybe if the two worked together instead of running, they'd both find themselves retiring from the race.
(unfinished)