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*
Xavier sat by the table alone, staring.
Bianca had left, her expressions mixed with pity and amusement as if she had seen him through. He didn't like that look, it was worse than her rage. Bianca’s face was a hint that he was probably acting like a fool.
He had always been like a fool anyways, whenever Wednesday Addams was around. She wouldn’t mind it though — she didn’t even care.
Xavier watched Wednesday dancing, or he’d rather say, throwing her arms with intention of punching someone's nose. He low-key hoped that it'd be Galpin's.
But he knew she wouldn't. Not because she liked Galpin. Oh come on, Wednesday Addams didn't like anyone except herself. Thing might be an exception. Maybe Enid also.
Wednesday wouldn't hit Galpin because that guy knew how to keep the balance only too well, just like he was maintaining the distance now on the dance floor. Close enough to behold her, far enough to allow her space to move.
Xavier downed another drink.
He suddenly felt that punch on his left cheek again. Lat outreach day, that innocent-looking Galpin and his friends held Xavier to the ground, his hazel eyes blazing with excitement. Maybe that was what drew her, as they both took pleasure in torturing others.
Wednesday may think of Galpin as some puppy-eyed normie, only that Tyler Galpin was an actor. The "kind" barista pretended that he could tolerate being constantly ignored, being used for whatever functions she improvised. He even faked that he enjoyed being told to come or disappear at her mercy because he'd be satisfied just to see her.
Xavier sneered.
He could have done the same, but he chose not to. At least that was what he told himself. He knew what Galpin was craving. Getting Wednesday's attention. Being looked at with her dark eyes. Leaning into her and listening to the rhythm of her black heart - if she even had one. Probably carved from basalt instead of flesh.
The nice normie looked at her, smiling. His gaze lingered on her, sweet and cloying as honey.
Xavier wanted to look away, but couldn't.
It was difficult to snap the imagination of himself on the dance floor, standing next to her, light pouring down on her, her dark hair and eyes glowing. The scene made him dizzy.
Xavier wondered if Galpin was feeling dizzy.
*
"Get out!"
Xavier stood among the horrifying sketches, his finger pointing to the door.
When she finally moved, he avoided her eyes because he knew what magic her eyes had. She didn't know her influence on people, or she did, but she simply couldn't care less.
Xavier glared at her shadow on the ground, feeling her gaze going over him. His right fist tight, fingers twitching.
Being watched by her obsidian black eyes made one's heart tremble for joy and fear. Joy for being seen by her, fear for losing that attention.
“Get out.”
He repeated, surprised by his own voice as it didn’t give out signs to the turbulence of rage and regret. He knew he’d regret pushing her away. He regretted it already.
Xavier was angry with himself even more than he was with her. He was stupid enough to indulge himself in believing that she actually wanted to invite him. He was even more upset that for one moment, he wished that he really was the Hyde.
She would be more interested in him then.
Wednesday didn’t say a word, taking her steps toward the door.
Confirmation of his deepest fear hidden behind all the shy smiles.
She couldn’t care less.
Xavier resisted the urge to turn and stop her.
Why did everything go wrong when it came to her?
He was used to getting whatever he wanted easily. Deluxe toys when he was young, luxurious mansions, limousines, and yachts when he grew older. But nothing worked for Wednesday Addams, his appearance, his arts, his archery, family wealth, all as unimpressive as fluffy unicorns with pink ribbons.
He didn’t attempt to hide his feelings for her, everyone except Wednesday knew that he would do anything to stay around. If only she could give such a hint, if only she could turn around and look at him occasionally.
But Wednesday Addams never looked back. She moved forward like a flood, sweeping everyone aside without a second thought.
Xavier stood alone in the shed, looking down at the sketch she left on the ground.
*
“Thanks, doc.”
Galpin was smiling, despite the nasty wound on the chest, his voice was soft and low.
Wednesday raised her dark eyes to meet his gaze for a second, then lowered her head to continue.
Xavier looked away, as if the view stung his eyes.
What would it feel like to be touched by her ice-cold fingertips?
As a teenage boy, he had inevitably had some dreams of that sort. Given her taste, Wednesday didn’t quite fit into any of those scenes, so Xavier’s wildest fascination went as far as the touching of lips.
Her alabaster fingers gently danced across Galpin’s bare chest. It was not even close to caressing. Her movements were accurate and efficient like she was holding a scalpel.
Still, he wondered, what if it was his skin that Wednesday’s fingers were touching?
Would he hold her hands and stop her? Or, maybe he would just sit in the armchair and watched her eyelashes flipping like black butterflies. Nothing stopped Wednesday from continuing what she had been determined to do.
The closest he'd ever been to her was that night in the hidden library beneath the statue of Allan Poe statue, when she cracked the riddle.
He volunteered for the job of covering her head with a bag and putting her into a chair, claiming that he was the tallest and could handle any resistance. When offering so, he ignored the exchange of looks among his fellow members.
Surprisingly, Wednesday seemed to enjoy it. She barely moved, allowing him to hold her from the back, his chin right above her head. The scent of her made him want to nuzzle her neck. It almost felt like a hug shared between a couple who knew each other for years and had built a rapport.
Wednesday Addams in his arms.
A dream came true.
His hypothesis about that moment was all quite encouraging. Maybe she was into crimes such as kidnapping as she used to be. Or there could a slight possibility, that she could tell that it was him.
He nestled her in the chair, tied her wrists up, then stepped away reluctantly.
“It’s amateurs like you that have given kidnap a bad name.”
Whatever hypotheses Xavier conjured, they were proved wrong.
The chief of surgery finished her operation. Tyler Galpin smiled at his doctor.
Xavier felt the bitterness in his mouth.
She didn’t care if her words stung him but look at her now. She cared for a wound on Galpin’s chest.
Maybe she even cared about whether that scratch hurt.
*
“What are you doing here?”
As painful as it was to admit, he was half glad to see her walking into the cellar. A horrible view for sore eyes. About as comforting as a visit from Satan.
Wednesday Addams and her moves were always a mystery. Undecipherable. Just like the deadpan.
He had every reason to hold grudges. But he knew the imprisonment wasn’t personal. And that was what he hated about it. She would do the same to anyone, turning her back on them. He was no different.
How would he think that he might be slightly special?
"I saw in the vision when he kissed me."
Her face and voice remained emotionless and steady as usual, but the hesitance gave her away.
The sparks of joy inside him were smothered by squirting venom.
“Xavier, it’s not about us.”
“It’s about you!”
He knew that he was pushing her away even further. He told himself that it was for the best. It was his monologue all along. The trapped one. The blinded one. He was never in the more-than-friend zone, so maybe there was nothing to lose after all.
He watched her walking out of the cellar, her steps fast and stable, his neck and limbs chained to the ground. She was always up to her detective adventures, he would be the one trapped, with or without the chains.
Why did she hesitate?
Like she even cared.
Like he didn’t care.
All he ever wanted was that she could look at him, just for once. At him only.