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Enid didn’t think herbology was all that interesting. Plants weren’t cool. Nor were the students. It only really got interesting when Wednesday Addams’ name came up.
Ms. Thornhill was droning on about one death-plant to another, not really concerned about the student’s excitement levels. Enid strained her ears to listen to Xavier whispering about something, since it was just about the only other thing occurring in the classroom. That’s when she heard the name of her roommate, the black-clad, sparsely communicating girl who often reminded Enid of various serial killer reports they had seen in the library. Wednesday Addams.
“Did you catch the name?”
“I heard it was Jake.”
“Who the hell is Jake?”
“Ajax, then.”
“How do you confuse Ajax with Jake?” Enid leaned forward in her seat to listen. She didn’t believe everything she heard, mostly. But that didn’t diminish the interesting quality of gossip. Especially since she ran a blog dedicated to it.
“Anyway, Wednesday totally kicked his ass. Heard she was stoned though.”
“Oh, cool.” Enid sat back down as properly as she knew how, resting her hand on her cheek and half-listening to Ms. Thornhill again.
Wednesday could hold her own in any fight. Scarily so, sometimes. Stonings weren’t permanent; Wednesday had probably unfrozen by now if it was a fight, like she thought.
Ajax though. The boy Enid had had a crush on for, ah, two and a half years now? Although, who was counting? Enid was. His every move, his every word, hanging onto it like a lifeline. But who in their right mind would challenge Wednesday Addams? Wednesday was terrifying, and Enid shared a fucking room with her. If you wanted to keep your claws, or in this case, tendril of snakes intact, you would not speak to the girl, let alone fight her. Interesting. Ajax was usually a chill guy. Wonder how that happened.
Ms. Thornhill broke Enid from her internal monologue. “Alright, you all are free to go.” Enid checked the time. Huh. They were. Class had gone by faster then she had expected. Which, granted, was still agonizingly slow. She grabbed her things and left the class, waiting at her usual place for Wednesday. They always met up right before Wednesday fled to their room to write and ignore the world.
She waited for a minute. Then two. Then five. Wednesday didn’t come. She frowned, tapping her foot against the ground before going looking for her friend. If Wednesday only had a damn phone, a million things would be so much easier.
“Hey, Eugene?” She caught the shorter boy by surprise, Eugene throwing a handful of bees at her on instinct. She spluttered, luckily not getting stung. “What the shit?”
“Ah, hey Enid! Sorry about that,” he apologized, the bees disappearing into his shirt. Enid stared for a minute, before blinking and remembering her original task. “Have you seen Wednesday anywhere?”
He frowned, “I thought you, of all people, would know. No one has seen her since after the fight. I assume you know about that.”
She nodded, pursing her lips, “alright, thank you.”
Eugene seemed to realize this was Enid speaking to him, his face taking on a red tone. “Ehhh, it’s nothing. Coolio. Sweet. Good. Awesome.” He rambled the entire thesaurus’ synonyms for “cool” before he cut himself off. “Yeah, okay. Tell her I said hi.”
Enid nodded and walked off, taking a moment to think. If anything had made Wednesday the slightest bit distressed, she was either running around trying to solve a murder, which was unlikely, as she would have bumped into her at that point. Or she was writing at her desk with Thing beside her. She turned in the direction of their room, picking up her pace.
“Wednesday?” She asked, creaking the door open. She didn’t get a response. “Wednesday?” She repeated, taking a step into the room. She was met with a quiet,
“Hello,” from Wednesday’s side of the room. Wednesday was at her desk. Of course. She had one hand hovering over her typewriter, the other hanging limply by her side. Her progress was painfully slow. Enid looked towards the limp hand, frowning at how red and swollen it was. Any splotch of colour stood out against her roommate’s pale skin.
“Well. You don’t seem to be making a ton of progress,” she said, sitting on the edge of Wednesday’s bed and glancing at the typewriter page. Wednesday wrote from 7 to 8, and it was- Enid checked her watch- 7:15. And yet there were only a few lines on the paper, if that. Wednesday looked vaguely in her direction, her eyes settling beside her,
“Progress is subjective.”
“Of course,” Enid nodded. But not really. “So, mind telling me what happened?” She motioned towards the swollen hand, then the air, ambiguously. Wednesday turned back towards the typewriter. “Wednesday.”
“Enid,” came the reply, the blonde girl rolling her eyes,
“You heard me.”
“Yes, and I am choosing to ignore you.”
“But by answering me, you’re not! Checkmate.”
“You are grossly misappropriating chess terms. What do you want?”
“I want to know what happened!” Enid whined.
“I fought Ajax. There is not much else to know.”
“You are such a stick in the mud,” Enid grumbled, folding her hands in her lap. “I meant the juicy details. The drama. The gossip! I need something for my blog!” Wednesday fixed her eyes on her in a way that made Enid aware she was about to be given a thinly veiled death threat.
“I formulated 567 ways to kill someone with a simple pencil when I was eight years old,” Wednesday said, picking up one of the pencils on her desk and staring at it.
“That’s great, Willa. Info. Now.” Wednesday stared at her with an intense look before continuing to try and type, laying her limp wrist against the desk. Enid caught the slightest of winces she gave as she set it down. She also caught the way Wednesday just barely managed to move her fingers. That probably wasn’t good. But it was also Wednesday. “Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday . We share a room. You can’t escape me. I want details.”
“I fought Ajax. Those are the details,” Wednesday said, “I am focusing on my writing now. You do not exist.”
“I’m still sitting here.”
“I was speaking of the future if you do not quiet yourself,” Wednesday said, a genuine sharp edge to her voice. Enid continued to smile at her. She knew it was only from pain.
“So, should I assume you lost? Your wrist doesn’t really look good.”
“Even the victors still emerge with wounds,” Wednesday muttered.
“Oh, cool. So you won and I still exist.”
“Your boy-crush was not hard to beat,” said the black-haired girl, a tinge of disgust to her voice at the replacement for Ajax’s name, “he just managed to stone me.”
Enid blinked, “What the shit.”
“Language, please.”
“What the fuck?”
“That is not much better.”
“I don’t care, Wednesday. Point is, that wrist looks broken.”
“And so does your face. However, you seem to be functioning infuriatingly well.”
“Thanks. I am taking that as a ‘please help me dear roommate, as I am unable to care for myself.” Wednesday’s eyes widened in visible anger,
“You dare not mock me, Sinclair.” Enid grinned,
“Uh huh?”
“Yes.”
“And what are you going to do about i-”
Wednesday had a knife halfway to her throat, before doubling over and stifling a groan in pain.
“Wednesday,” Enid reached out slowly and steadied her. They’d gotten to a point where physical touch wasn’t off limits anymore. Though Enid had yet to outright hug her, doing her best to respect her boundaries. It was hard sometimes. All of Enid’s affection came from her friends. Her home was cold and lonely.
“That never happened. You are hallucinating,” Wednesday said, shifting the knife to her other hand, “probably because your disgustingly bright stuffed animals staring into your soul overwhelmed your senses.”
“Oh my god. Be quiet,” Enid said, shifting her hands to Wednesday’s shoulders once the flash of pain seemed to have ebbed. Something about touching the other girl’s waist felt wrong. And right, all at the same time. Ajax, her mind whispered, programmed by herself for years to bring him up whenever things got… abnormal. “I literally saw that and steadied you. Sit down.” Wednesday did so. Huh.
“It is still my allotted writing time,” Wednesday said, her eyes shifting to the typewriter.
“And?”
“I am going to write.”
“Willa. Woman,” Enid started, Wednesday’s eyes widening slightly, betraying the slightest hint of emotion, “oh, God, that sounded wrong. You can barely type. You’re like- like a snail with one hand.”
“Snails do not have hands.”
“That’s not what I meant. Stop being daft.”
“I think your blondeness is affecting your brain, Sinclair. Snails do not have hands.” Enid narrowed her eyes,
“How many knives do you have on your person, at the moment?”
“As my father used to say, ‘never enough.’ Now make yourself gone before I do it for you.”
“Whatever. We hafta’ go to the nurse.”
“Impudent wench.” Enid stifled a laugh. It was always humorous when Wednesday pulled out the misogynistic-70-year-old-man lingo. “Very funny, Willa. Nurse time.”
“Over my dead body. And I have died three times.”
“Shut up. Let’s go.”
Enid was halfway considering writing her will with the glare Wednesday gave her, and was pleasantly surprised when the shorter girl gingerly stood up instead. She walked down with her, ignoring the odd looks other students gave them. They were both notorious at Nevermore, for vastly different reasons. Wednesday seemed to enjoy that fact slightly more than she did. They cut across a hall, thick rain beating down against the windows. Wednesday looked increasingly more pale every time Enid looked over at her.
“Almost there!” She said, keeping her usual smile on her face. Wednesday didn’t reply, going to cross her arms to her chest, quickly stopping and flinching in pain. Enid hesitantly reached out to her non-injured hand. Wednesday stared at her for a moment, then took it.
“Tell no one,” she started, squinting her eyes in disgust, “or…” She trailed off, a tremor running down her body. She was quiet after that. Enid felt Wednesday’s hand give a small squeeze, which she returned.
“Tada, here we are! That only took ten minutes. ‘Would have taken five if you hadn’t insisted your way was faster.”
“It is,” Wednesday said, letting go of her hand and walking inside. Enid paused for a moment, not sure if she should follow or not. She probably should, for the nurse’s safety. But she sat down outside of the room, for Wednesday’s comfort.
The whole process probably only took about ten minutes, but Enid was wild with anxiety. Between Wednesday being, well, Wednesday, and the shrieks that kept coming from the room, (Enid was never really sure if it was Wednesday’s or the nurse’s-) she kept fidgeting. She started counting the cracks on the floor, deciding to avoid doing her homework. If there was one thing Enid liked better than Wednesday writing her blog, it was procrastination. Instead, she opened her phone and started scrolling through the school chatroom, blinking at the occasional gossip. Eugene had gone after a normie boy with his bees after said normie boy wouldn’t leave him alone, the mayor’s son had broken up with a cheerleader- all boring drama. Where was the real stuff?
Enid heard footsteps, and her heart jumped into her throat. One was placed carefully, and the shoes were always squeaking from lake water. Bianca Barclay, of course. And the other. Heel, then toe, as if the placer was set in stone. That, partnered with the light hissing emanating, like steam being let out of a kettle, made Enid aware it was her - as Wednesday put it - “boycrush” , Ajax. She lifted her gaze to see the two, noting the potent black eye and bandages on Ajax’s front.
Enid lifted her hand in a tentative wave, deciding to ignore the way her claws threatened to extend.
“Oh, hey Enid,” Ajax said, his eyes drifting in her direction. The smile plastered on her face grew brighter. And faker.
“You look rough. Guess Wednesday really did win,” she said with an awkward wave of her arm - what the hell. Her mind operated differently when she was around boys. Particularly Ajax. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the often panicked and involuntary actions.
“What, the fight?” Ajax asked, Enid nodding and looking away. A more genuine smile crept onto her face. Of course Wednesday won. She was the most fucking awesome person Enid knew. In her own, unique way, of course. She tried to push down the pride in her chest,
“Yeah. She was weirdly defensive when I- never mind.” Ajax huffed, putting his gauzed-covered hands in his pocket. Bianca glanced at Enid, who gave a tiny wave back.
“Speaking of which,” Enid broke the silence. “How did the whole thing like, even start? She won’t tell me.”
Ajax laughed bitterly, “not like she ever tells anyone anything. It was nothing. Petty squabble, and she swung and it- yeah.” He made nervous eye contact with Bianca, who frowned pointedly. A snake crept out of his beanie, giving Enid a look.
Enid shrugged, “now I’m just waiting for-” - cue a scream from the nurse - “her.” She gave a tight-lipped smile and almost grinned at the horrified look on Bianca’s face, who muttered,
“Uh, cool.”
Ajax fiddled with his uniform edges, opening his mouth to say something. “Hey, Enid, would you-”
He was cut off by a shadow looming over the seated girl’s face. The nurse was standing by the shadow - Wednesday, Enid thought, and she did not like the way her heart jumped. “Hello, classmates.” Wednesday said, her voice sounding…darker than usual.
“Addams,” Bianca practically snarled back. Tensions had been very high since the Poe Cup.
Ajax suddenly became very interested in his shoes, deciding to not finish whatever he was asking. Enid felt a flare of anxiety, what if he was going to ask her out? And sighed. “Hello, Wednesday.”
The nurse gave a pursed-lipped smile. “Broken wrist. She’ll be fine in a month or so, they seem to heal faster.” She was clearly referring to the Addams, and Enid didn’t miss the malice-filled upwards quirk of Wednesday’s mouth,
“Yes, they have an uncanny talent for absorbing pain and projecting it on whoever lives in their ill-will,” Wednesday said, looking at Bianca and Ajax for a solid second, then the nurse, who quickly hurried off.
“So, we can go back now?” Enid asked, jumping up from her seat. Wednesday gave her a short nod, already halfway down the hall. She ran in her direction, but not before hearing a quiet,
“ Aw, the serial killer has a little guard dog. ” She bit her lip and hurried after Wednesday,
“Slow down! You’re practically running.”
“I still have a portion left in my allotted writing time,” Wednesday said, turning her gaze to the walls they passed critically, like she was searching for any little error, “and… other things to take care of.”
“You better not be talking about the monster in the woods.” Enid was met with silence. Wednesday was absolutely talking about the monster in the woods. They made their way to their room, Wednesday sitting at her desk once they were there and having a quiet conversation with Thing. Enid left her alone, noticing the glossiness of her normally sharp eyes. Wednesday was very close to zoning out and leaving the world behind her.
Enid lifted up one of her stuffed animals and held it to her chest, looking out the window. Guard dog. She was more than a guard dog. She was Wednesday’s friend, right? Right. She looked back over at the other girl, who was trying to type once more. For someone so brilliant, she really should have just given up at that point and realized how futile her efforts were. But Wednesday climbed the brick wall others stopped at, continuing to make agonizingly slow progress.
Enid groaned, flopping back onto her bed, “I’m bored now. You won’t tell me anything interesting.”
“My most sincere apologies,” Wednesday said without looking over, “I can go find someone and scalp them if that would entertain you. Or gouge out someone’s eyes with a fork. I have been researching the process and find it very possible. I have been absolutely dying to try it.”
“Wednesday, no. I meant-” Enid swallowed, why am I so concerned about her? I’m not even this concerned about Ajax. Wait. What? “I meant- what really happened? Please?”
She fixed Wednesday with some pleading puppy eyes, and scowled at herself internally. Maybe I am just a stupid little dog.
Wednesday chewed her lip, then sighed and rolled her eyes, “I will tell you what happened if you-” She looked frustratedly at her typewriter. “...assist me in my writing.”
Enid snorted, “Wednesday Addams, asking for help? Am I dead or dreaming?” Before Wednesday could get any smart ideas, she continued, “that was not an offer, by the way.”
“Fine.”
Enid laughed, “just say the word, Wednesday. You know I’d do anything for you.” The last sentence was said softly, as Enid held her gaze. And there was that whisper again, Ajax. Ajax. Ajax. Enid swallowed, averting her eyes, while Wednesday was somehow stunned into silence. There was a first time for everything.
“Alright…” Wednesday said after a second, narrowing her eyes as she thought. Three sentences into the writing, Enid was vividly reminded of why she never read anything Wednesday wrote. She pressed a hand to her mouth and swallowed,
“Willa, is that really necessary? I don’t think human bodies can do that.”
“Oh, they absolutely can, do not worry,” Wednesday said, waving her hand vaguely from her position on the corner of the bed. “My uncle gave me a collection of pictures for my fourth birthday of strange ways the human body can look after murder,” her mouth quirked up slightly, “I still have them hanging up in my room at home.”
“Oh. That’s great,” Enid said, staring at the typewriter, somewhat aware that she was touching where Wednesday’s small fingers touched a million times a month. What the hell, brain? Stupid, hormonal, abnormal teenage brain.
“Enid? Were you listening?” Wednesday asked.
“Yep, one hundred percent.”
“I’ll repeat what I said anyway. Just in case you were not,” Wednesday cleared her throat, “the head was found feet away from the body, a single tendril of flesh noting that there was once a connection. The bruises on it had faded with the skin tone, a rat crawling through what was once the neck. She -” Wednesday paused, “Enid, are you alright? You are gagging over a trash bin.”
“I’m well aware!” Enid exclaimed.
“This is not even the best part. Why are you assisting me in my magnificence if you are too weak to stomach this?” Wednesday looked confusedly at Thing, who responded in sign.
She’s your right hand man now, literally. You’re so whipped.
Wednesday scoffed, not even dignifying that with a response. Enid caught that last part, and then pretended she needed to hurl again to cover up the burning feeling in her cheeks. What? Why was she feeling that? Stop. She shook her head, frowning, before coming up again. Wednesday did not look impressed, “I did not ask to see your breakfast croissant, Enid. Why do you insist on showing it to me?”
“Fuck you, Wednesday!” Came the response.
“No, thank you. Now please continue assisting me. Our hour is almost over.”
Enid grimaced, standing up. “Fine.”
Wednesday directed her on the goriest ways to write murder, and Enid had d.i.y.ed quite a few new swear words by the time the clock hit 8pm. Wednesday looked grumpily at the paper. “This is terrible. I usually have three thousand words per hour. You are so slow, honestly, Enid- only one thousand? I have seen you text, how can you be so slow on a typewriter?”
Enid began to zone out as her roommate berated her, as she did when her mother lashed out. Wednesday frowned, squinting at Enid. Wednesday had studied people before. Studied psychology. These were textbook signs of someone who was used to being talked down to. “Enid?”
Her name was enough to snap the blonde out of her thoughts, “yeah?”
“It’s 8. You may go watch your Tic Tac videos.”
“That’s not- whatever.” While normally, Enid would have quite literally leaped at the opportunity to immerse herself in said media, she sat on Wednesday’s bed instead, studying the window. The split down the middle, showering her side of the room in color, and Wednesday’s in the cool blue of the night.
And Wednesday spoke softly, “It was you.”
Enid blinked, shifting her gaze over to Wednesday. She had always found Enid’s eyes a little bit creepy. They were so blue, when they widened and her pupils contracted, it looked similar to a cat looking at its prey.
It was mesmerizing.
“Hm?” Enid tilted her head, internally scolding herself for the puppy-like action.
“Bianca made an…unsavory comment about you, and your position in the Poe Cup. And Ajax did nothing but look mildly uncomfortable. So I told him it was similar to his lack of participation in The Nightshades.”
Enid’s eyes widened, “he’s in the- huh?”
Wednesday continued, “he insulted me back, saying something along the lines of ‘you can’t even look the wrong way at someone without Addams intervening and messing everything up.’ Now, usually, I would not be affected by flattery directed towards my person, but…” The words were left unspoken. It was you.
Enid found herself at a loss for words, in turn. Then she chuckled, tilting her head. “Maybe I just have really bad taste in men.” The voice, determined to screw everything up, whispered, because you don’t want him. You want h- Enid shook her head quickly, clearing all thoughts away. She gave a weak smile, “you…did that for me?”
Wednesday scoffed, resting her hands in her lap. “I did it because he insulted me.”
“Yeah, but also for me.” Enid’s tone was teasing, and Wednesday huffed.
“Take the win, Enid. Do not make me say it.”
Enid giggled, snapping her fingers in happiness. Wednesday watched. It was something Enid always did, snapping her fingers, wringing her wrists, flapping her hands and- why did she know that. Because Wednesday liked to catalog everyone’s behaviors. For research purposes. Yes.
Wednesday turned back to the typewriter, trying to pick it up with her gauze-wrapped hand. The action sent a sting of pain through her, and she shuddered. Not in delight, which pain usually brought her. She tried again, again, again, and the pain only increased each time, until Wednesday just sat there, extremely frustrated.
Enid’s eyes widened, and she hurried over, “here, let me h-”
She was cut off by a rough shove, “get back to your side of the room, Sinclair. I do not need your help.” Enid, who would have typically slunk back to her rainbow-infested side, instead sighed and slid out the typewriter compartment anyways, putting the paper in Wednesday’s writing box.
“There, you stubborn girl. You’ve been up a long time, I know. You were playing the cello at four fucking am this morning. We really need to talk about the timing of that thing, by the way.” Wednesday fixed her with a severe look, “or not, okay. Anyway, we literally have nothing else to do, go to bed or something.” Wednesday fixed her with an even more severe look. Enid was undeterred.
“My aware presence is necessary for everyone’s fate until at least 12,” Wednesday said, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Oh, of course, your majesty,” Enid said sarcastically, reaching out and pressing a hand against her shoulder. Wednesday tensed for a moment, seeming to decide whether or not Thing needed Enid’s dismembered forearm as a roommate, but then relaxed her body.
“I am serious. I could sleep, of course. But the blood would be on your hands. Dripping down your arms and pooling on the floor for Thing to bathe in.” Enid snapped her head towards Thing, who waved in response.
“What the fuck.”
“Everyone has some weird comfort,” Wednesday shrugged, “Thing’s is bathing in blood.”
“Okay, now you absolutely need to sleep. For everyone’s fates, especially mine.” Enid looked out the window. The sun had just begun to set, the sky painted a light pink and orange. She thought it looked lovely. Wednesday gave it a pointed glare of disgust. “Willa, you look exhausted.” Wednesday looked away,
“Exhaustion is one step closer to death,” she said, her voice quiet, “my family reveres it.”
“Well, at least you got the first part right.” Wednesday continued to sit on the edge of her bed, not moving an inch. She could sit still for hours without being bored. Enid couldn’t even go a minute. Her hands were currently doing things her brain had definitely not instructed them to do, such as twiddling with her shirt hem and tapping on her own thigh. “What if I lay beside you?”
“What?” Wednesday’s stoic expression wavered for a moment.
“I can lay beside you until you fall asleep. Like a sleepover.”
“Enid, we share a room,” Wednesday relaxed down on top of her blankets, “every night is practically a sleepover.”
“I know, it’s amazing!” She flopped down beside her, Wednesday sucking in a quick breath and staring at the ceiling. She could feel the other girl’s warmth. Uncomfortably so. Enid’s fingers brushing against her arm brought an unusual heat to her face. She crossed her arms against her chest, like she normally slept. Enid’s hand made its way to her shoulder while they laid.
She didn’t push it away. Or snap. Or make a death threat. Or commit an actual murder. She just closed her eyes and let it be, taking a few deep breaths and enjoying the feeling of a hand against her skin.
This was agony.
Enid was currently running around in circles internally, suddenly aware of their proximity. Of Wednesday’s surprisingly stable heartbeat. Of her breathing, of her lips, of her eyes. Wednesday Addams was mesmerizing in a way Ajax had never been. The frustrated showcase from Wednesday earlier had left her braids uncharacteristically messy. Strands of hair littered the pillow, bed top, and Wednesday’s pale face. Enid was tempted to brush the hairs away, but she valued her fingers, and did not do so.
She spoke sparsely, shyly making eye contact with her roommate as Wednesday opened an eye, staring straight at her. That gaze was everything and nothing all at once.
“You’re really pretty, Wednesday.”
“I’d say you are an interesting judge of physical appearance, then,” Wednesday said, her fingers brushing Enid’s side, “you are beautiful, though. Subjectively and objectively.”
“Thanks, I think,” Enid’s eyes slid over to Wednesday’s hand. She moved a few inches away. Ajax. She’d had a crush on Ajax for years. She closed her eyes, trying to picture his face. Wednesday’s dark eyes were the only thing that appeared in her mind.
Damn it. Wednesday had invaded every part of her being.
“Are you alright?” Wednesday asked, “you look very pale. And not pleasantly so.”
“Just… thinking,” Enid said, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest, rubbing a thumb over her other hand, “Ajax,” she muttered to herself.
“What about him?” Wednesday asked sharply.
“Nothing. Just go to sleep. It’s almost dark.” Wednesday actually closed her eyes, her breathing slowing after a few minutes. Enid bit her lip, staring out the window, then back at her roommate. Friend. Best friend. She tugged at her hair and growled. Why couldn’t she just think of Ajax?
She knew why she couldn’t, deep inside her mind. Wednesday had opened a door that couldn’t be shut anymore.
And Enid was terrified of what laid on the other side.
Wednesday’s quiet thoughts were flickering, contrasting to her roommate’s inner turmoil. The girl was awake, just quiet. She usually resembled the dead when asleep, so it was no wonder she didn’t look conscious.
Enid was warm. Enid was joyful. Enid was the sun, the light, and all of the stars. Enid Sinclair was what she saw when she closed her eyes, what she saw when she opened them. Enid was in her morning black coffee as her hand hovered over the sugar accidentally. Enid was in her notes as she highlighted every lycanthrope fact she came across, writing it in her personal notebook for future use. Enid was in the sky as a rainbow split it open, while Wednesday grimaced, there was a vision of a bubbly smile at the back of her mind.
Enid had invaded every part of her being.
Wednesday thought of the fifty-five ‘Willa!’s she received a day. How Enid seemed relentlessly determined to become her friend, how Wednesday constantly turned her away and was still met with kindness. How Enid had insisted she should go to the nurse, and nearly forced her out of the door. How Enid was so good, so so good , in a way Wednesday should have been repulsed by, because that good was something she could never be. Something her being could never take.
Her mind shifted to the gorgon boy Enid had been obsessed with since she had met her. Ajax. The boy who didn’t say anything after this girl who very clearly liked him was openly accused of cheating in something she had been training months for. The boy who cared more about what people thought of him than anything, and not in an Enid way. The boy who Enid was infatuated with, the boy Wednesday Addams wished would just crumble and break into stone, as she had nearly done hours earlier.
She thought a thought, bitterly, that thought that she had dared not think. Ajax is not good enough for her.
And almost immediately, her mind countered. And who is?
You?
Wednesday sharply inhaled, eyelids fluttering open, before settling back down. It was enough to catch the taller girl’s attention, though.
This was not good. This was not good at all. Enid rolled over to face her, reaching out and brushing her hair from her face. Wednesday stared at Enid’s fingers, watching the thin nails trace the side of her face. Enid gazed gently at Wednesday, feeling like she could extend her claws and break something so perfect, so still, so quickly. But she didn’t want to. Her claws never threatened to extend when she was with Wednesday. Not like they did with Ajax.
“Go to sleep, Willa,” she whispered. Wednesday closed her eyes again, Enid’s fingers not moving from her forehead. Ajax. Wednesday thought bitterly, mirroring the plaguing thoughts Enid was dealing with. Enid rolled closer to her, before finally flopping down completely on top of her. Just Enid being Enid. Nothing that could be seen as anything different than friendship, surely.
“Enid, I cannot breathe. I did not plan to die tonight, let me edit my will, please. I need to make sure Thing is taken out.” She glared pointedly at the disembodied hand, clearly not over the antics from earlier.
“Sorry,” Enid said, rolling off of her. Their faces were inches from each other. Wednesday took a moment to curse her own hormones, closing her eyes again and trying to sleep for the upteenth time. And yet Enid’s face kept flashing behind her eyes. God damnit.
She was in love with Enid Sinclair, she finally realized. She loved her roommate. The girl laying inches away from her. The girl who was infatuated with- Ajax. Wow. That was really annoying.
“You asleep, Wednesday?” Enid asked after a few minutes. Wednesday curled in on herself slightly, not responding, despite the fact that she was still awake. “Okay,” Enid said quietly, lightly poking her to confirm it. When Wednesday didn’t bite her she climbed out of the bed, looking down at the smaller girl. And then she kissed her cheek.
Enid jolted back, and her world came crashing down.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
Enid Sinclair was in love with Wednesday Addams. Enid Sinclair was in love with a girl, and that girl was Wednesday fucking Addams. Enid Sinclair didn’t like Ajax. Enid Sinclair didn’t. Like. Boys. Enid Sinclair was a lesb-. She clapped her hand over her mouth, as if she could silence the thought, eyes widening. She stumbled, sliding down against her bed and hurriedly wiping her mouth, as that could erase the kiss, erase her mistake, erase her sin from the world.
Enid felt tears, hot and electric, gather at her eyes, and threaten to fall. But she didn’t, in fear of waking her roommate- if she could even call her that anymore, to her sorrow. To wake her to her misery, to wake her to Enid’s sin and make both of their worlds reshape.
So she bit her hand, and didn’t let the tears escape and sting her cheeks. Just sat there, and gazed miserably at the girl who was so still she looked dead. Quiet sniffles escaped her, yet Wednesday heard every one.
This was not good at all. Wednesday’s eyes shot open. Enid swallowed a shriek,
“Wednesday. You’re supposed to be asleep. Did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” she wiped away any stray tears.
“You are crying.”
“Yeah,” Enid let out a quiet laugh, “almost. Because I’m upset.” Wednesday looked down at her hands, clasping them together and staring at her shoes.
“Because it was a mistake?”
“What?”
“Because you kissed my cheek and you realized you do not like me like that. You like Ajax. Of course you do, I have heard you ramble about him for hours. 3 hours and 45 minutes once, I timed it. 36 seconds.”
“No,” Enid stumbled over and took her hands, gently squeezing them. “It wasn’t a mistake. That’s why I’m crying. It’s.. terrifying.”
“Why?” Wednesday pulled her hands away after a second, wrapping her arms around herself. Enid sat beside her on the bed,
“I don’t know, because of people. My family.”
“I do not care what people think.”
“I know you don’t,” Enid said, “but I do. A lot. I just want everything to be perfect and this -” she gestured frantically between the two- “is… not perfect in some people’s eyes.”
“You want everything to be perfect ?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Thing crawled under the bed, not before flipping them both the middle finger from pure exasperation. “That is a fairly unreachable goal. Love is not perfect. It’s better that way. More…exciting. That’s what my father always says, anyway.” Enid bit her lip. Wednesday’s father, right. Wednesday had grown up in a home with more love then Enid could even dream of.
“I know. I know all of this. Things have just been embedded into my brain since I was small. A lot of things. It feels wrong, touching you and kissing your cheek. Especially because I like it.” Enid swallowed as her cheeks flushed, having just admitted to…liking that. Liking her . “But it feels really good too.”
Wednesday nodded, going quiet for a moment, before finally saying,
“Alright, that is enough talking,” and leaning over, grabbing Enid’s chin and tilting her head up, kissing her cheek in turn with a satisfactory upturn of her mouth.
Enid spluttered for a minute, her face burning. She quickly raised a hand, starting, “Willa-”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Can…I…?” She gestured vaguely at Wednesday’s bed.
Wednesday nodded carefully, crawling onto her bed and crossing her arms over her chest for the fifth time that night.
Enid walked over, then slid in beside her, closing her eyes. This was scary.
Love was scary.
But that’s okay, she thought as her breathing slowed.
Wednesday Addams was scary. But that was exactly how Enid liked her.
And that was better than perfect.