sapphiclover05
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Wednesday’s excused herself to head to the bathroom thrice in the past hour, scrubbing her hands raw in an attempt to placate the tremors.
Dreadful, as it is already.
What doesn’t help matters are the sad, pitying looks that Yoko has been shooting Wednesday all day.
Wednesday has never formally revealed anything to the vampire, but surely it must be written plain on her face. And has been for a long time, by the deepset intensity of Yoko’s look.
It all makes Wednesday want to exhume the contents of her stomach.
Because Enid is getting married.
But not to her.
No, not to her. Because Wednesday was too late.
or,
It takes seven years for Wednesday to come to terms with her feelings for Enid. It takes another seven for her to do something about them.
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Three shots ring out.
Steve hears them before he feels them; a warm, wet pain burning in his torso, intolerably excruciating.
There’s a bundle of squawks and screams, outbursts of panic and anger, and it’s only when Hopper falls forwards to take Steve up into a slightly rough, protective hold, does he realize that two of those shots have lodged themselves in his own flesh and bone. (Realizes that he’d moved, instinctively, to shield El, despite never having spoken to her, who’d the gun had been so precisely pointed at, aimed for.)
Steve Harrington watches his own blood pool and trickle over a series of hands pressed against him, small and large, soft and rugged, and for a moment, wants to stay like this. He can’t.
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There’s a pause, and then Wednesday speaks again. “I admit that I do have one ulterior motive in asking you to visit for the holidays.”
Enid laughs, unsurprised; there’s the Wednesday she knows, even a phone line and a coast away. “Yeah? What is it?”
“I told my parents that I’m in a relationship,” Wednesday says, offhand, like it’s just another sentence and not a lightning strike to Enid’s heart. "With you, specifically."
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Bookmarked by sapphiclover05
12 Sep 2025
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“Tell me about your new book. The one where Viper finally tells Evelyn she loves her.”
“She doesn’t,” Wednesday replied, then felt the faint frown on Enid’s lips before she saw it. “Not yet. The manuscript is only two-thirds complete.”
She didn’t say that since graduation day—since Enid’s collapse on the stage—fiction had turned to sand slipping through her fingers. She only promised, softly, that the chapter would exist.
And that she would read it to her one day.
Even if the audience was only a memory.
· · ─ · ⏾ · ─ · ·
After graduation, Enid Sinclair learns she is dying, and Wednesday refuses to leave her girlfriend’s side for the months that remain.
Surrounded by faith and false hopes, Wednesday realizes that love is the only fable and fact she will ever believe in.
(Based on the song ‘Fable’ by Gigi Perez)
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The quiz is a disaster. Wracking her head for any nuggets of information she can remember from the lecture that week, she can barely piece together what the questions are asking before the time is called.
Her lab partner, on the other hand, is the first to finish, figure moving as smoothly as blades across ice to the front of the room, placing her paper down with a decisive flutter and returning to her seat, hands crossed in front of her as she waits for everyone else to catch up.
It doesn’t annoy Enid, the elegance with which the girl holds herself. It’s more…intrigue, she supposes.
A pebble tapping, deep in the confines of her chest.
or
Enid's just trying to get through her freshman year. Wednesday complicates things, somewhat.
Bookmarked by sapphiclover05
31 Aug 2025