Chapter Text
Enid paced around her bedroom. Well, not her bedroom. It was her older brothers’—she didn’t have her own room. Right now, though, the others were wolfing-out in their family’s signature forest. Her pack had been using that forest for decades, all the trees viciously gnarled with branches and twigs sprawling out dangerously from the ferocious clawing. Enid had only gone to the forest three times when she was a kid, and they were to watch her older brothers. All she remembered were the roars and howls, but the memories of the forest itself were dim.
Every now and then she glanced out the bedroom window, the full, beautiful moon that hung in the sea of black catching her eye. Her parents were somewhere downstairs, as usual. Enid thought about how unwise it was to let a bunch of unruly, teenage, werewolf boys wolf-out alone in the forest. Every morning after the full moon they come home, their new set of clothes tattered, dried blood peeling off their hair, skin plastered with sweat, with ragtag grins on their faces. Enid’s parents encouraged the behavior and just told them to wash up. It made some sense, though, considering the boys never sustain any major injuries, being werewolves and all. Maybe she was just bitter that she wasn’t able to do the same growing up.
None of that mattered now, though. Wednesday was going to call her at 10:30. She checked the clock on her phone. 10:29. She bounced up and down and shook her arms to calm her nerves. It was going to be perfectly fine. She was a social butterfly, she thrived on verbal interaction. What made this so different? It was just Wednesday.
The same Wednesday that indirectly said she missed her when she left. The same Wednesday that she finally wolfed-out for when finding out she was in danger. The same Wednesday that embraced her tightly in front of the student body, the both of them clinging onto each other like they were the last thing on Earth. The same Wednesday that—
Ring! Ring!
“Shit!” Enid rushed to the phone laying on the bed, frantically found the green ‘Accept’ button, and swiftly brought the phone up to her ear.
“Hell—hey, hey! Uh, hi.” She screamed at herself internally. What the hell was that?
“Hello, Enid.”
“Hey,” she said again. Conversational skills on, please. “Wednesday! So, how have you been?”
“I’m doing exceptionally better, now that I’m talking with you.” Enid’s heart leaped out of her chest. She didn’t think Wednesday understood the impact and underlying meaning of that statement to the average person.
Straightening her posture, she asked, “Uh, does that mean you were doing bad before?”
“Not ‘bad’, necessarily, just…overwhelmed, I suppose.”
“I can understand that,” Enid huffed, crawling onto her bed. With everything that happened back at Nevermore, she’d be alarmed if it wasn’t affecting Wednesday negatively. Not even Wednesday Addams can move on from that within a month.
“How have you been managing?” Wednesday asked.
Enid sighed and slumped into her own arms. “I dunno. I’m…managing.”
The other end of the line was silent.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” she added quietly, twirling a strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Enid didn’t know where she was hoping the conversation would go, or why she said that at all, but it was true.
“Have you?” Wednesday replied.
Enid grinned. “Mhm.”
“And why is that?”
Enid scoffed and clicked her tongue. “‘Cause I miss you, silly. Why else?”
The line was silent for two excruciating seconds before Wednesday muttered, “Perhaps you were cooking up a murderous scheme directed towards me.”
Enid turned on her back and restrained a squeal. God, she didn’t realize how much she actually missed her. Just hearing the familiar monotone drawl of the other girl’s voice made her stomach nearly explode. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Another silence. “Maybe I would. But I’ve come to the conclusion that you don’t seem the type to ponder murder in your free time.”
“Yeah, I’ve, uh—I’ve got other things on my mind,” Enid laughed.
“Such as?”
“Well,” she said. “I just told you the main one.”
“What exactly is it about me that you ‘miss’?” Wednesday pushed flatly.
“I—” Enid’s mouth closed. Everything, she realized, I miss everything about her. “I mean…I miss seeing you. Your face, and everything.”
She threw her phone on her pillow and hid her face in her hands. Her face? Her eyebrows furrowed and she pinched her nose tightly. Her face. What was wrong with her?
“My face,” Wednesday’s voice repeated. It was slightly lower than her normal pitch, something she did when she found something amusing or was mocking something. Enid immediately noticed. She snapped her head to the phone and snatched it.
“Well, like—seeing your face, y’know? Everyday—waking up, walking to classes, during classes, going to sleep. It was a familiar routine, like—y’know, I had gotten super used to it. And—I mean, I dunno, it wasn’t a bad thing to have to go through. You have a good—” Do not say she has a good face, she practically shouted mentally, Do not. “Uh, yeah. That’s—yeah.” Her face twisted painfully. How did it manage to get worse with every word? She clutched her fuzzy blanket in anticipation and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Well, that’s something to think about,” Wednesday said finally. Enid’s eyes shot open. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and shatter into a thousand pieces.
Wednesday seemed to pick up on Enid’s embarrassment due to the silence and added, “If it helps you in any way, you have crossed my mind, also, during this break.”
Enid’s head perked up. “Really?”
“I told you I would think of you, did I not?” she reminded.
Enid recalled the heart-to-heart they had when Wednesday was packing up to leave Nevermore, before everything happened, and smirked. “Sure, but how many nausea-inducing rainbows and ear-bleed-inducing pop songs have you encountered?”
Wednesday audibly sighed, and Enid kicked her feet rapidly with a stupid grin on her face. “Believe it or not, I have encountered none of either. I just…thought of you, from time to time.”
Now it was Enid’s turn. “And what exactly was it about me that you thought of?” she asked, pressing her phone to her cheek.
The other end went dead silent. Then, a brief exhale. “That is a simple question that comes with a complex answer,” she said. “Just know that you are not alone in your longing.”
Longing. That was the word. Of course Wednesday would be able to pin it down exactly, precise language being of high value to her and all. Enid longed to walk down hallways with her and graze shoulders once more. She longed to exchange fleeting glances in their dorm while sitting in their respective beds. She longed to look down at her when conversing and giggle at their height difference.
And most prominently, she longed to be close to her. To touch her, physically. To intertwine her fingers with hers. To rest her arms around her neck casually. To latch onto her arm. To have their legs touch when they sat down next to each other. To rest her head on her shoulder. To envelop her in a warm, tight hug.
She wanted so badly to be in close proximity with the girl, it had quickly started to gnaw at her over break. Wednesday invaded her mind more and more, and she started daydreaming about running up and hugging her, or rubbing her thumb against the other girl’s hand assuringly, or even cuddling together. She grew more and more irritated each day, becoming more agonizingly aware of the fact that these things could never happen. Will never happen.
Despite all of this, she still, for some reason, opened her mouth. “Wednesday, I really wish I could come and see you. Like, really bad.”
“Come see me, then.”
Enid froze. Maybe she didn’t hear her right. “What?”
“You know I don’t like repeating myself.”
Enid sat up quickly. “Wait, no, did you say to…come over there? Like—”
“Yes, come,” Wednesday confirmed. “What’s so unbelievable about that?”
“Wednesday, I—” Enid barked out a dry laugh. “You know I can’t, that…that would mean…” She looked at the bedroom door uneasily.
She can’t just leave the house. The idea of actually going through with escaping was incomprehensible, it had always been reiterated to her that when she was here, she was to stay here. She barely considered this hellhole a home, but rather a prison where she slouched in her cell all day long and only came out for meal breaks. She can’t deny, though, that she hadn’t thought about escaping a multitude of times. As a child, she came up with elaborate plans in her head about how she’d do it, but was too afraid to act on them. And now, nothing had changed. As she stared at the door, a dark pit of fear welled up inside her stomach. She hadn’t even done anything and she was practically quivering like a wet puppy in the rain.
“But you’ve thought about it,” Wednesday pointed out. “Look, I already have it figured out. On your word, Lurch and I will drive over and enact our plan.”
“I can’t, Wednesday, I can’t,” Enid insisted, huddled over her phone. “You don’t know my family, they’d—no, we can’t, Wednesday. As much as I’d like that, we can’t.”
“So you do want to come,” Wednesday said.
“Of course I want to come!” Enid whisper-yelled. “Do you think I like it here?”
“Clearly not, so come here,” Wednesday argued. “It’s the obvious solution. We get to be together, and you get to be free of that poor excuse of a mother’s grasp.”
Enid paused briefly at the wording of ‘we get to be together’, but shook her head and continued. “They’d find us.”
“Your family doesn’t know about us having relations, correct? It’s the last place they’d suspect you, my house.” There was a silence as Enid struggled to find her voice, then Wednesday added stiffly, “Let me do this for you. I owe you.”
Enid’s jaw went slack. Wednesday felt guilty, she realized. “Wednesday…”
“Spare me, please.” Enid could basically hear the eye roll from the other end.
A sudden, overwhelming amount of compassion surged through her and she found her eyes stinging. She bit back tears. “What…what are you gonna do?”
“Leave that to me. Is this you agreeing?”
“Wednesday, I—” Enid looked to the ceiling. “Thank you. Seriously, just…thank you.”
Wednesday went quiet, then mumbled, “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Be awake at 3.”
Enid glanced at the time on her phone. 10:34, it read. She looked out her single window and into the pitch-black darkness. “Okay. Um…”
“What is it?”
“Goodnight, Wednesday,” she murmured. “Love you.”
“...Goodnight, Enid. Horrific nightmares.”
Click.