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Wednesday sat on her bed, stiff. She stared into the inferno of color that was her roommate's side of the room. Enid wasn’t there. She was with Ajax. She was late. Thing scurried over to Wednesday, his fingers adjusting into a look of teasing inquisition.
“Quiet, Thing. I’m thinking.” If Thing had eyes, he’d be rolling them. She had been developing an unexplained whim to kill Ajax. Enid had been coming home crying the past few days. ‘ I think he’s tired of me’, ‘ I feel like doesn’t like me anymore’, ‘kissing him is getting boring!’ . Truthfully, the girl talk made Wednesday want to kill Enid a little bit, too. Why did she care about him so much if he didn’t put in an equal amount of effort in caring about her? Teenage romance was complicated and boring. Wednesday had just walked in on a snogfest between two werewolves the day prior. It was absurd. She considered gauging her own eyes out with Thing’s pointer finger.
Wednesday thought about the potential horrific makeout sessions Enid had with Ajax. It made her nauseous. In the bad way. And then she heard the door open. Enid walked in, crying.
“What?” Wednesday said flatly.
“Ajax dumped me! He said he wasn’t ‘feeling it’! What the hell does that mean?” The werewolf’s words were fast and frantic. Wednesday was quiet for a moment.
“I suppose something about your romantic dalliances didn’t feel right for him. Do you think it felt right for you?” She asked, as if she was giving an interrogation (something she was particularly good at).
“I guess…” the blonde sniffed. “I really liked him… but it just felt dull.” She looked at Wednesday, her eyes reddened by tears. Wednesday had never really looked at Enid’s eyes. There was something so primal about them. They surely were wolf-like. ‘The eyes are the windows to the soul’ was something Morticia would always say, and deep down Enid had the soul of a wolf. “Why doesn’t anyone actually like me?” Enid spoke again before swiping the back of her hand across her tearstained face.
Wednesday considered answering with a sarcastic, cruel remark but stopped herself. She didn’t want Enid’s incessant crying to last any longer than it should. She continued to look at her eyes. She decided to tell the truth.
“I don’t dislike your presence.” The black-haired girl said. Enid sat down beside her, breathing laboriously.
“I thought you hated me…” She sniffed.
“Not necessarily. I hate everyone, but I hate you less than most.” Wednesday studied her roommate, taking note of each mark and detail on her porcelain skin.Thing crawled onto Enid’s shoulder. “You-”
Enid lunged forward, she cradled Wednesday’s face in her hands and paused for a second before kissing her. It was sweet and chaste and surprising. Wednesday always felt that Enid was predictable, she’d memorized all of her little habits and traits. She was never surprised by her. I’m not going to fall in love. She recalled telling her parents and quickly pulled away. Thinking about her parents who were overly infatuated with one another was not something she wanted to think about while kissing someone she… liked. She liked Enid.
“I’m sorry-!” Enid’s voice faltered and more tears began to well in her eyes. Thing was long gone from the girl’s shoulder. She began to stand up, straightening her skirt. Wednesday grabbed her hand. The clouds were parting in her head, revealing the moon. It was full and it was Enid and it had been there hiding all along. Wednesday pulled Enid close and their lips met again, more confidently this time. She’d never wanted anything more. It overwhelmed her, Want. Wednesday’s last words were something she’d lay thinking about, not for any reason. She knew she’d die alone as most people do and would have no need for final words, but she’d decided on what she’d like for them to be. Just one word to escape her lips before her body shut down organ by organ. Just one word to occupy her brain as it slowly died, fading into nothing more than a wrinkled lump of dormant tissue. Enid. She was in love. She was immensely, irrevocably, horrifyingly in love with Enid Sinclair. And it was a dangerous thing. It was lethal and addicting and so, so terrifying. It wasn’t messy and overwrought like she’d expected a kiss to be, it was slow and passionate. Enid’s hands were warm against her face.
“Enid…” Wednesday said, her voice barely audible.
“I- I didn’t think–”
“You were wrong.”
Enid was silent, smiling softly.
“Can I kill Ajax? I have a plan.”
“No!” The werewolf laughed.
“I’m being serious.”
“Don’t kill Ajax. I don’t want you to go to jail!”
“Bold of you to assume I’d get caught. You underestimate me.”
Enid kissed her again.