Chapter Text
Despite Enid's best efforts, Agnes' words had burrowed into her brain like maggots in a juicy slab of rotting meat; vivacious, writhing, impossible to ignore. And by God, had she tried to ignore them. But her mind had never been kind to her, and this time was no exception.
Ever since the psychic attack of Agnes’ visit, Enid had found herself recontextualizing her interactions with Wednesday through a tainted lens, on that suggested that maybe — just maybe — the Raven might like her as something more than a best friend. A reassuring glance, a comforting touch on the wrist, one of her backhanded compliments Enid so adored... It all had that extra layer of baggage that the blonde didn't know what to do with. Worse, she had noticed that she actually started subconsciously responding to it. Irritating flutters in her chest became increasingly frequent, a painful twist in her gut at anything and everything Wednesday did or said, all of it reframed beyond nervousness and into anticipation. Everything was now some sort of sign, some signal or hint pointing to something that Enid didn't dare put a name to.
She felt like a total creep, objectively. Disgusting.
It wasn't fair to Wednesday, for Enid to suddenly push all of that onto her, reading into every word, interpreting every gesture. And for what? It wasn't like Enid was into girls herself. What was she even trying to accomplish? Nothing could happen on that front, even if by some twist of the faiths Wednesday was somehow into her.
Agnes' smugness, her absolute certainty that something was brewing between them, started stoking the flames of Enid's rage with the finesse of gasoline. How dare the girl put that kind of idea in her head? To make a mockery of their friendship and force Enid to read into it like some desperate loser? Was that her angle? To tear Wednesday and Enid apart from the inside out so she could take the blonde's place at her side?
Whatever the ginger girl's goal was, it seemed to be working, at least from Enid's perspective.
Wednesday seemed none the wiser, perusing yet another tome she had requested Enid bring her while absentmindedly taking notes like nothing was amiss. It was her final day at the hospital, the doctors having announced that she was due to be discharged the next morning. Enid had been keeping her company most of the time, coming by after school like clockwork and spending the weekend glued to the Raven's side.
It hadn't taken long for the blonde to become aware of the gruesome extent of Wednesday's injuries despite the latter’s misguided attempts at deflection. The brunette hadn't left her bed for the first three days after waking up, wincing in pain any time she had tried. Enid had eventually pried it out of her; a broken rib, lacerations on her sides and one nasty concussion. All in all, not nearly as bad as it could've been, but still debilitating to put it very mildly. Needless to say Enid had appointed herself as the Raven's primary caretaker, one of the very few things her roommate hadn't protested in the slightest, and one Morticia seemed to find particularly amusing. The blonde would smuggle Wednesday books — usually psychic biographies or research papers on visions and psychic fatigue — and help her take notes whenever the concussion headaches or nausea became too unbearable. Wednesday had been exempt from schoolwork until she was well enough to return, a gesture on principal Dort's part that was likely meant to ingratiate him to Morticia, but Enid would nonetheless bring the Raven her notes, something Wednesday would thank her for with the slightest uptick of the mouth that inevitably sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Finally, Enid would update her on anything and everything having to do with Thing and Fester's field search for Tyler. Wednesday's uncle had apparently decided that updating Enid through phone call was better than constantly having to visit the hospital himself. However, it never hurt whenever he did take the time to do so as it seemed to please the Raven a great deal, even if she'd never admit to it.
All in all, it had been a busy week for both of them, even barring the steady increase Enid's internal distress. Wednesday had stayed surprisingly compliant to the doctor's orders, with the notable exception of all the readings she did behind their backs. As a result, she was now on the mend which, by Enid's standards, was an undeniable win. She hadn’t even had to mentally joust with the Raven most days.
So why was she so exhausted?
Wednesday was still scribbling in her notebook, propped up by a mountain of pillows and hunched over the overbed table, no doubt cursing her lower back to insurmountable pain, though Enid doubted she would mind. The blonde, for her part, was slumped into her usual chair, just watching her, taking count of each elegant stroke of her pen, listening to the hypnotic way the thick pages of the volume she was studying turned with a satisfying sound, tracing Wednesday’s delicate profile, stark against the evening light filtering through the wall length windows. The steady repetition of everything, the rhythm Wednesday unconsciously slipped into whenever she got engrossed by her obsession of the moment, it was comforting, hypnotic even. Enid struggled to put into words the feeling of peace that would wash over her in those quiet moments. How she wished it could last beyond a single, fleeting blip in time… but all good things had to come to a cruel end and, without fail, her brain had to remind her that she’d gotten maybe a little too invested in the sight, that Wednesday surely wouldn't appreciate her ogling like a weirdo, that she was being irredeemably disrespectful.
Enid averted her gaze then, clearing her throat as she fidgeted with her fingers, frowning derisively at her chipped nail polish barely clinging on for dear life. She'd have to reapply soon. She made a mental note to bring her beauty bag over the next day before remembering that tomorrow evening would be spent in their dorm room for the first time in half a month. The thought was almost enough to pull a smile from the blonde.
"Would you do mine, too?" Wednesday's voice suddenly pulled Enid's attention right back to her, having the blonde's back straighten in surprise.
"What do you mean?" Enid squeaked, plastering her usual smile on as she scooted forward in her chair.
Wednesday had closed the notebook on the table and dog-eared the thick volume sitting beside it. Apparently she was done for the night, her attention now solely on Enid in a way that made the girl's cheeks warm. Wednesday's elegance, the way she cocked her head slightly so her ear would be the closest it could be to her object of interest, the light upwards curve to her eyebrows denoting interest; they were all trademark signs Enid had identified when Wednesday was trying to participate in a conversation she deemed casual. No confrontation, no manipulation, just a simple back and forth that she usually struggled to relax into. It was cute, really, how intense she was about everything. It would make her scrutiny of Enid in that moment almost flattering if it wasn't so intimidating. The blonde struggled not to break the eye contact as Wednesday answered.
"Your nails. You need to redo them."
"Yeah," Enid acquiesced, using her nails as an excuse to look away. "All my polishes are back at the dorm though."
"Then tomorrow, would you do mine as well?" Wednesday asked again and this time, Enid realized she was actually asking for help. With her nails nonetheless.
"You sure?" Enid countered confusedly, ignoring the way her heart stalled at the thought of being in Wednesday's personal space for more than half a second. "You want me to take care of your nails?"
"That is indeed what I’m implying, yes."
"For real?" Enid asked again, a hint of nervousness seeping into her tone at the intensity of Wednesday's steadiness. "You won't mind the closeness and the physical contact and the long silences and the longer conversations and the-"
"Enid," Wednesday cut off her anxious ramblings, her face impassive as she titled her head closer. "I know what I am asking. Now, do you want to paint my nails or not?"
Enid couldn't believe it.
If she had been told a few months ago that Wednesday would be willing to have a girls’ night with her, Hell, that she would go so far as to ask her to do her nails? Enid would've died, she would've had a stroke then desperately clawed her way out of her own grave so she wouldn't miss it. But now? Now with her twisted perception of reality, the thought of sitting on her bed with Wednesday, holding her hand still while she applied meticulous coats of black polish, feeling the calluses she knew spotted her palms from training with her fencing sabre and a myriad of other weapons... It was too much for her heart to handle. The concerned look Wednesday levelled her with just then wasn't helping. It made her feel sticky and gross, sleazy, like the sports guys she avoided like the plague. Shameful, guilty, disgusting.
"Enid?"
"Sure, Wednesday,” the blonde startled, forcing her face into a twisted smile through the discomfort pulling it downward. “I'd love that."
Wednesday frowned but mercifully didn't press the matter, seemingly understanding that Enid didn't want her to pry. The underlying thoughtfulness only seemed to make Enid feel worse, a ball of nerves settling deep in her gut as her roommate slowly turned away, seemingly mauling over the unusually stilted interaction.
Enid wanted to melt into the floor.
***
They didn't get the chance to paint their nails the next day, much to Enid's relief, though she allowed herself feel the smallest pang of disappointment as well. As it turned out, a long car ride punctuated by a longer family — plus Enid — lunch and the absolute longest climb up the rickety stairs of Ophelia Hall's tower had been a little too much for Wednesday and her freshly scrambled brain as the former still stubbornly refused help all the way back to her bed. By the last few steps, the brunette was visibly panting, her hand discretely clutching at her lacerated ribs underneath her heavy parka and the now familiar haze in her usually sharp eyes clued Enid in to an oncoming migraine.
Needless to say, the Raven had nearly threatened her family out of the room, promising a crystal ball call the next morning, and struggled out of her clothes before slipping into bed. Enid had watched it all in tense silence, ready to pounce if Wednesday lost her balance or needed help at any point, but somehow, the brunette managed without her. Still, she gingerly shuffled to the girl's bedside, digging through her bag on the way for the prescribed pain killers Jessie had handed them on their way out of the hospital.
"You have water?" the blonde asked, popping the cap off of the rattling bottle and pulling two sizeable pills out.
Wednesday didn't answer, simply turning to her with a murderous glare, clearly offended by the worry in Enid's voice. The latter didn't falter, instead leaving the pills on her roommate's nightstand with an eye roll while she went to fetch her water bottle by her own bedside along with one of her emergency granola bars so the brunette had something to chase the meds down with.
"Enid," Wednesday grunted in protest, the name coming out more like a whine as she winced, a sound that undoubtedly brought her great shame.
"You're in pain," the blonde replied simply, nearly pushing the bottle into the other's hands with a cock of the head and a stare. "Don't you dare deny it."
"I'm fine," Wednesday grumbled, but still took the painkillers without much additional protest, only lending credence to Enid's intuition. Though she still refused the granola bar, on principle.
The blonde decided not to call her out on it, instead turning to change out of her own clothes and get into something more comfortable to spend the rest of the evening in. She had absolutely no intention of going anywhere until the end of the weekend forced her back into classes, the final puffs of energy still powering her huffing out of her in a pathetic display as she collapsed on her own bed to extract her PJs from beneath her pillow.
Enid was about to start pulling her shirt over her head, a well practiced gesture, nearly instinctual. Yet this time, she faltered just as she was about to pass it over her chest, her well oiled movements stalling as she became acutely aware of the girl laying on the other side of the room. It was ridiculous really. She'd changed in front of Wednesday a million times, barely giving it a second thought. Why was she hesitant now? It's not like Wednesday cared anyway. She herself had gotten increasingly comfortable with Enid's presence, neither of them having had to ask for privacy in months. So what changed?
Enid's stomach was tying itself into knots and her heart was skipping every other beat as she stood there, frozen, desperately trying to push past this sudden derailment and get it over with. Wednesday wasn’t even looking her way. Why was she so nervous? Nervous? No, that didn't feel right. This was something else entirely.
"Can you..." Enid faltered, a shallow breath catching in the back of her throat. She heard the sheets of her roommates bed ruffle, a silent question hanging in the stuffy air. "Can you close your eyes?"
Enid didn't have to turn around to see Wednesday's confused frown, the silliness of the request making her skin itch uncomfortably. What was she thinking? Now Wednesday was going to know something was up. She was going to know how big of a freak Enid was for bracing, anticipating, expecting something in that moment. The blonde readied herself for questions, maybe even accusations, feeling like her lungs were shrivelled in the cruel grasp of her own ribcage.
None came.
Instead, Wednesday simply grunted affirmatively, clearly too preoccupied by the pain pinching at her every nerve to care much about whatever Enid was going through. The blonde didn't know if this dismissal had her letting out a sigh of relief or hurt. She just knew she had to get a move on one way or the other and so, she finally managed to slip into her PJs at lightning speed. It was embarrassing, truly, how tight she'd managed to tie herself into knots.
Before she could even think to linger on that little incident however, the old door into their room rattled with the force of three heavy knocks. Enid groaned, glancing at Wednesday who might as well have been dead to the world by this point before checking her phone for the time. 4:37 PM. Why did it feel like midnight already?
With one long and heavy sigh, the blonde half-heartedly shuffled to the door, all the while weighing out the pros and cons of pretending to be sick to whoever was on the other side. She took another steadying breath in before opening up. She wasn't entirely sure who she expected to find knocking so late — so early? — but when she spotted the deep brown curls and charming smile, she figured she should have known.
"Oh, Bruno!" Enid squeaked a little too forced, her best attempt at levity no doubt falling flat as the boy's expression faltered. Still, she put on a sweet smile, hoping that the grinding of her molars wasn't too visible as she stepped out and closed the door behind her. "Nice to see you!"
"Yeah," Bruno tried matching her tone, his coming out even more forced, if that was even possible. "I heard you guys got back today."
"Just now," Enid nodded, praying to any kind of deity above that she could get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.
If the blonde's thoughts and feelings about Wednesday had been upsetting as of late, then her thoughts and feelings about Bruno had inextricably compounded the issue.
She felt a churn in her gut whenever the boy came up, whether that be in conversation or when she received his habitual texts checking in on her and Wednesday. She'd been unable to identify the feeling at first, chalking it up to the mild argument they'd had when Bruno had given her a lift back the week prior. However, as its presence became near ubiquitous and increasingly distressing, it pushed the blonde to slowly but surely start avoiding her boyfriend and invest herself fully as Wednesday's best friend, caretaker and occasional errand girl instead. Enid had retroactively justified her eagerness as simple concern for the Raven's wellbeing, but as the days stretched and Bruno's messages dejectedly dried up, the blonde had realized that this churning feeling was awfully similar to how she'd felt about Ajax in the weeks leading up to their inevitable break up. That realization completely blew the lid off of Enid's well rehearsed avoidance techniques and she'd had to confront the new and mortifyingly real possibility that her reframing of Wednesday's actions as maybe, possibly, definitely not beyond platonic had also reframed her own feelings toward her charismatic werewolf boyfriend.
Enid Sinclair was terrible at coping, even Wednesday fricking Addams had realized as much in spite of her relentless cluelessness when it came to anything remotely tangential to emotions. And the thought that she may be losing interest in the literal embodiment of the perfect boyfriend, the very one she'd daydreamed about since the ripe age of 8, was definitely something she needed to cope with. A losing situation all around. And so, as any reasonable teenager would, she did absolutely nothing about it, doubling down on her new, Wednesday-centric lifestyle and in doing so, inadvertently trapped herself in the other maelstrom of thoughts and feelings governing her psyche at the moment. Though this second one, while just as distressing, involved someone that she'd already shared pretty much every single piece of herself with, including a near death experience. There was some trauma bond there that Bruno would never be able to even come close to superseding, regardless of their compatibility.
And so there they finally were, Enid desperately trying not to fidget with the hem of her sleeping shorts while Bruno just stood there with an expectant smile on his lips, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.
"Didn't miss me too much, I hope?" Enid finally said in the ever more deafening silence, the cruelty of the quip not lost on her. She had to bite her cheek not to wince.
"Of course I did," Bruno chuckled incredulously, clearly choosing to interpret her unfortunate choice of words as a poor joke rather than the even poorer slip of the tongue that it was. So kind, so nice.
"Well," Enid trailed off awkwardly, covering it up by taking a step forward in what she hoped would come across slightly better than her repeated stumbles. "Here I am."
"Right," Bruno replied behind a quirked smile, leaning forward in a silent question.
Enid's breath caught in her throat, that uncomfortable churning returning tenfold as she propped herself up on her toes to lay a quick peck on the boys lips. It should have been easy, yet another thing she would've never thought twice about before. Now though, it suddenly sent a chill of unease down her spine and she was two milliseconds away from wiping her lips with the back of her hand before she caught herself, retreating to the door in a panic.
"Hey, I'm kinda really tired from the week," Enid pushed the words out painfully, her throat closing up around them as she scrambled for any suitable excuse to banish Bruno far far away from her thoughts and from herself until she could get a damned grip. "I was gonna turn in for an early night. You think I could catch up with you tomorrow?"
The blonde tried not to focus on the creeping guilt, loud in her brain, as she watched Bruno’s anticipation melt into palpable disappointment. His shoulders sagged as he deflated thoroughly, comically even. He reminded her of an unsuspecting snowman slumping over in the coming summer heat. The levity of the mental image did nothing to soothe Enid’s turmoil. What was there to say when she was so obviously deflecting? She felt trapped, shrinking under the pleading brown eyes of a boy she knew she enjoyed the company of, but who, in the last few days, had taken a backseat to her mounting anxieties and insecurities. It wasn’t fair to him, she knew. What she didn’t know was how to deal with it in any other other way. And so, she waited, the seconds of heavy silence ticking by loudly around them. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
“Yeah,” Bruno eventually sighed, voice cracking pathetically as her squared his shoulders on an inhale. “Yeah, okay.”
He forced out a smile, no doubt for her benefit more than his own, and it did nothing to hide the hurt behind it. Enid felt like a complete asshole, but she couldn’t find it in her to take it back. There was no way she could deal with any of this. Not now.
“I’ll see you around, E,” Bruno added dejectedly before turning away, every single one of his steps down the winding staircase of the dorm chipping at another piece of her already fragile heart.
It took everything in her to hold back a guilt written sob, not wanting to give him any more reasons to linger. And so she waited, frozen with her back to the door, unable to go back inside as she took deep, calming breaths. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.
It took a good long while before Enid finally found the strength to turn away from the staircase and head back into the room. Once the door had closed behind her again, the silence that engulfed her then was far more tolerable. The setting sun shone through the window panes peacefully, orange light spilling on Wednesday's side of the room while hers remained as colourful as ever. The visibility of that dichotomy, of the two of them in that moment felt like too much to bear, the tears she had successfully kept at bay until then finally spilling out behind a loud sniffle. Her feet moved before she could catch up, bringing her not to her own too cold and too plush comforter but to her roommate's side of the room, depositing her besides the seemingly unconscious Raven with an ease that spoke to the looming threat of a full on breakdown.
She could recognize the signs easy enough, could feel it creeping on her. Her own body was an armed bear trap just waiting to clamp down. She couldn't be alone. Not right now.
"Wednesday?" Enid breathed, hating the way her own voice tore through the quiet like a dying trumpet.
Wednesday didn't stir, an overdrawn sigh being the only acknowledgement Enid received and all at once, a self-consciousness she hadn't felt in many months, since they’d first met in fact, suddenly resurfaced, having her swaying from side to side as she reminded herself to breathe.
"I- Could I..." Enid trailed off, letting out something between a growl and a whimper as anger suddenly flared out of a dark chasm she hadn’t realized had been cracked open I her chest.
Why was she angry? Who was she angry at?
There wasn't much in the way of answers in that moment, and the longer the silence stretched, the more unbalanced Enid felt. Nothing made sense, everything was backwards. It was so… confusing. And so she just stood there, mouth opening and closing around words she hated herself for not being able to say, all the while her roommate remained silent as a corpse. This was ridiculous. Wednesday was hurt. She shouldn't have to deal with whatever the fuck that was. It wasn't fair of Enid, much like everything else in the last few weeks.
The blonde sighed through hitching breaths, turning away before she could embarrass herself any further.
She hadn't even taken a step away before pressure around her wrist had her turn back. Blue eyes met dark brown, watery and slightly hazy, but just as cutting as ever. Wednesday still didn't speak, but she didn't have to, pulling Enid down towards her with a grip so weak, it was nearly unfamiliar. Enid went easily, like a marionette cut from her strings as she burrowed herself a little niche under Wednesday's thin blankets. She would've been worried about the cold if it weren't for the fact that she suddenly felt like she was burning inside, her skin coming alive as Wednesday didn't let go until she was settled.
"Wednesday?" Enid managed to squeak out from beneath the lingering hurt and the flustered surprise, watching as the other girl held her gaze with a steadiness she craved.
"You're upset," Wednesday answered simply, mirroring her words from their fight back at the hospital so easily, as though the weight they held was enough to explain away any questions, act as any possible answers.
"Wednesday..." Enid said again helplessly, unable to keep herself together under the weight of such a thoughtful gesture.
And just like that, the tears the blonde was still desperately trying to hold back were allowed to spill freely, dampening the pillow supporting her head and the sheets she tried to use to dampen the sounds of her ever worsening sobs. Wednesday fell silent once again, though she never looked away, giving her the space she needed to break despite her own tenuous relationship with human emotions. It meant infinitely more to Enid than any other type of comfort anyone else could've provided in this moment and so, she cried. Even as Wednesday's breath evened out, even as the last slivers of light finally left the outside world, even as everything grew peacefully somber, she cried, unashamed for the first time in weeks.
In her outpour of emotions, in her mounting relief, Enid let herself acknowledge that she felt good, right there, in Wednesday's bed. She felt safe.
And wasn't that what friends were for after all?
***
Enid felt so light, much lighter than she'd been ever since Wednesday had come crashing through that second story window. It was kind of a stupid realization, but the breakdown she'd finally been allowed to have cleared some of the perpetual fog blinding and confusing her. She still wasn't sure how to decipher her feelings about Bruno or Wednesday or anything else for that matter, but they seemed much less daunting at the very least.
The blonde had started to hang out with the pack again, had started to spend time with Bruno again, though every time she did, it still felt like pulling teeth. Not that the boy knew anything was wrong. If Enid was good at one thing, it was pretending that everything was fine. She'd done so her whole life, honing it as an essential survival mechanism against her mother's constant hovering. Later on, she'd used that particular skill to make friends, to fit in. 'Fake it till you make it' and whatnot. It was second nature to Enid, and although Bruno was probably one of the few people she hadn't felt the need to play pretend for — she’d come to understand that it was probably why she'd chosen him over Ajax — she needed to keep the peace until she'd figured herself out.
And so, she smiled. She laughed. She played silly and started dressing up again. Everything was good again. It was fine.
Wednesday had also stopped pushing Enid away like before. In fact, she seemed even more intent on including the blonde in every possible minute of her day to day life, whether that was on Enid's terms or her own which was surprisingly — and maybe uncharacteristically — indulgent on the Raven’s part. Still, the werewolf had promptly justified this new set of behaviour as a side effect of the murderous Hyde still running amok in the area, and had dismissed the giddiness it brought her even faster. Wednesday certainly said as much anyway, updating Enid with any new piece of information her uncle could scrounge up. It was sweet really, how openly protective she was being. This new attached at the hip dynamic also meant that the Raven was more often than not lurking into the background of whatever social situations Enid found herself attending. This surprisingly included her regular hangouts with the pack. Wednesday would sit in a corner, reading silently while Enid did her best to participate in tussles with the boys or painted her nails with the girls. Sometimes, the blonde could feel dark eyes pressing into her, almost like a touch, scorching and undeniable. She allowed herself to revel in it.
Enid’s pack members, however, were understandably kind of freaked out at first. Wednesday had a presence to her, one that seemed uneasy to anyone who wasn’t a bubbly blonde apparently. Even so, the Raven’s presence soon became a source of entertainment for most, the Werewolves daring each other to approach or betting on who would be the first to get threatened into nothingness by the brunette that day. They'd even started calling Wednesday 'Enid's number one stalker', a fact which had made the Raven's lips twitch upwards the first time she'd heard of it, though she vehemently denied any allusions to it afterwards. Either way, Enid was happy. The two seemingly opposite sides of her life were, at last, beginning to coexist in a somewhat seamless manner. It was nice. Really, really nice.
So yes, everything was fine!
Even as Bruno and Enid sat across from each other that night in the courtyard, making the most of the food truck and quiet company of other students still milling about at this late hour, it was still fine. Her alone time with Bruno was probably one of the only exceptions to Wednesday's persistent tailing, something that should've been a sweet and understanding gesture highlighting healthy boundaries. Somehow though, with the awkwardness between the blonde and her boyfriend and Enid's general willingness to let Wednesday stick around whenever and wherever she so pleased, the Werewolf couldn't help but wish the Raven would be there to silently support her then too. She felt undeniably guilty about it. Hanging out with her boyfriend shouldn't be so damn difficult. He was nice, funny even, and he knew the right words to say at the right moments. So did she! Their script was perfect, rehearsed. It was fine.
Still, Enid wanted Wednesday. And because of that simple and yet undeniably selfish desire, guilt poisoned her every smile, strained her every word, and Bruno remained blissfully ignorant. So kind, so nice.
"You good, E?" the boy asked almost on queue, pulling Enid back to their half-eaten hot dogs of questionable provenance. He had joked earlier that the mystery was part of the fun since they got to guess what might be inside. So far, Enid's only worthwhile guess had been nondescript pork entrails.
Good enough, she thought.
"Sorry," the blonde sighed under her smile. "Just spaced out."
"You've been spacing out a lot," Bruno remarked between bites. "You sure you're sleeping enough?"
Enid tried not to choke on her own food, letting out a startled cough as she grabbed the juice off her tray and washed down the half chewed glob she barely managed to swallow. Bruno reached out to pat her back gently, apologizing for nothing as she tried to catch her breath and think of something to say.
If only he knew just how bad Enid had been sleeping, the light teasing tilt of his mouth as she slowly composed herself would undoubtedly morph into a concerned frown. Ever since their little impromptu sleep over after Enid's breakdown, the two roommates hadn't slept in the same bed again. Which was fine! It was normal, their routine. But somehow, Enid had made it weird yet again by wishing for it to maybe, possibly, hopefully happen again. She had slept the best sleep she ever had, gingerly pressed up against the Raven, snuggling up to her warmth almost as naturally as a puppy seeking shelter. And Wednesday had let her. Even worse, when Enid had woken up the next morning, there was a loose arm draped across her waist protectively, almost like Wednesday had been unconsciously holding her close. Enid would never admit how fast her heart rate had spiked, or how giddy she'd suddenly felt. It was all uncomfortably familiar, far beyond a simple, innocent happiness at getting closer to her best friend. It had sent her scrambling off the bed in seconds. She hated it. Hated that she felt like she did something wrong.
And so, they'd gone about their days, neither of them bringing that night up, though it haunted Enid like a treasured memory. She wanted that closeness again, that safety again, and falling asleep in Bruno's arms after their talk the following day hadn't felt nearly as good, nearly as impactful. It was getting ridiculous, the constant comparisons, the longing, the perpetual signs Enid couldn't let go of.
She was straight for goodness’ sake! Why was this even an issue? She had slept in plenty of girls' beds, snugged up with Yoko or Divina at sleepovers without giving it a second thought. Why was this any different?
Enid thought of Agnes again, of how big an impact her thoughtless words had had on her perception of herself and more importantly, her perception of Wednesday. The ginger girl had made herself scarce since that particular encounter, something that Enid had noticed with troubled acknowledgement but was nonetheless grateful for. She had no desire to deal with Agnes anymore than she absolutely had to. Especially now that she harboured a unique brand of animosity toward the girl. She was glad to keep her peace as long as the little ginger psycho let her.
Still, her words lingered. And still, Enid listened. It was maddening.
"I'm fine, Bruno," Enid finally managed to say after a few long seconds, finishing the last of her juice and reaching for her food again, if only to give her hands something to do.
"Yeah, yeah," Bruno chuckled as he shook his head, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You keep saying that."
"It's true," Enid countered a bit defensively, watching as the boy finished his food and shrugged.
"I didn't say it wasn't."
"Yeah," Enid sighed, feeling the perpetual tension in her shoulders reaching a new high. "I know. I guess I'm just kind of stressed out."
"Yeah?" Bruno asked. "Is it about your roommate?"
"What does this have to do with Wednesday?" Enid asked much too quickly, trying to keep her voice light, trying to change the subject. There was no way she could have a conversation about Wednesday of all people in that moment. Not with Bruno.
"I don't know," Bruno shrugged again, seemingly trying not to pry. It wasn't working. "You've just suddenly started spending every waking moment together. Just seems like something's going on, is all."
"She's been looking out for me," Enid said pointedly, parroting the same excuse she's used to explain Wednesday's presence to whoever started questioning it too much. The same excuse she'd told herself over and over as she lay awake at night, acutely aware of how cold her sheets were.
"’Cause of the Hyde?" Bruno sighed, slumping back in his chair when the blonde nodded. "Enid, you can't tell me that's all this is."
"What do you mean?" Enid asked, a little surprised by the sudden confrontation. Clearly, deviating from the topic wouldn't be an option this time.
"I mean, Wednesday's pretty cool," Bruno elaborated, running his hands through his hair nervously. "I'm glad I've been getting to know her better. I know why you like her so much now."
Enid nodded as he spoke, confusion morphing to a strange sense of dread as the boy kept talking, his eyes sharper than she'd ever seen them.
"But something I've noticed is the way she looks at you."
"The way she looks at me?" Enid repeated slowly, cautiously, that twist in her gut steadily tightening as she tried not to piece together where this might've been going.
"She keeps staring at you when you aren't looking," Bruno said, leaning forward and lowering his voice before adding, "She looks at you like she wants to eat you, E."
Enid didn't know what the appropriate response might be in a situation like this. Confusion, maybe. An awkward laugh, certainly. Something soft and unthreatening, something to deflect the not so subtle implications and borderline accusations. What Enid did know, however, was that shooting up to her feet without a single word and grabbing her bag before fleeing the courtyard was probably the worse possible way she could've handled the, for all intents and purposes, innocent comment. And so, of course she did just that, ignoring Bruno's calls following her until he was well and out of sight as she felt her house of cards toppling around her piece by piece.
No. Not him too. Not him too...
"Your little boyfriend came to check on you earlier, I told him you were with your secret admirer."
"She looks at you like she wants to eat you, E."
Fucked.
Enid Sinclair was completely fucked.