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It's the familiar weight of a hand curling around her waist that wakes her, followed by her wife's body molding to hers and the sounds of sheets ruffling as they both rearrange themselves.
"Sorry darling, didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep," the lips now pressed to the back of her neck vibrate with each word.
“It’s quite alright, I shouldn't have fallen asleep so early in the first place," was the response she murmured back, "I'm quite awake now, actually."
Wednesday rolls over, Enid loosening her waist momentarily so Wednesday could position herself in the crook of her wife's neck.
Enid laughs lightly as wisps of raven hair tickle her from chin to neck and makes a move to caress them away from her skin- the hand previously resting on Wednesday's waist now tangles its fingers in soft, dark hair and draws hums from Wednesday once in a while.
She was glad Enid had awoken her. Had she fallen asleep and not seen her, as she had done many times before, she would wake the next day needing extra kisses to make up for the ones lost the evening before.
As she lays head buried between her wife's neck and collarbones- bliss, really- the urge to whisper nonsensical words of love and in between kisses surges to the forefront of her mind.
Her wife's soft skin is just so pliant under her touch. She wants to bury herself in it, ingrain herself in her wife's heart and mind, and have her soul meld with Enid's.
Every moment spent in her wife's arms is never enough. Tonight that feeling is in full effect. She knows Enid feels it as well.
Her wife softly glides her nails on Wednesday's body- her arms pricking with goosebumps. The feel of the polished, retracted claws slightly brushing against her skin where the pads of her wife's hands soon follow, never fails to make her yearn for more.
Giving into the desire of fully embracing her wife is always blissful; the need to sink her face into the heat radiating off of pale skin, and press her lips and teeth to Enid's scarred sternum, while her arms enclose and fingers furl into the light blue cotton shirt - it burns her .
"Beautiful," she whispers. It's said against the junction of Enid's jaw and neck, a hot breath puffed as the word spills unhurriedly from her mouth.
A small intake of breath is what she hears before Enid's slender fingers wrap themselves in her hair, entangling into the strands and pressing her even further against each other.
It’s because of the building pressure in her chest that she knows she’s yearning again.
She doesn’t know what for exactly. To be swallowed whole by the love she feels for her wife perhaps; the all-encompassing infatuation and adoration that she feels building to a boiling point that never tips over.
It’s torture. She loves it.
She’s dazed in a delightful blanket of warmth and their tangled limbs, and wants to press her lips to every dip, and crevice, and scar she finds.
The pressure in her chest tightens further and the feeling travels up to her throat- she can’t breathe for fear of tears forming and staining her wife’s shirt.
It’s so much and so good. Most thoughts fail her in these moments. All she knows is she needs more.
“¿Mi amor?”
“Yes, darling?” comes the reply from atop her head.
“Could you remove your shirt?” The wrinkles in it stop her from feeling her wife completely.
Enid laughs, and Wednesday feels it reverberating through her, “My, my, Wednesday… How forward of you!”
Wednesday is unimpressed. It doesn’t deter Enid from her joking.
“Don’t you know it’s improper to ask that of a lady? I have some dignity, you know.”
“Hilarious, Enid,” she feels cold as Enid pulls away.
A giggle as the shirt is folded and put on the dresser, “I certainly like to think so.”
Fine, she’ll play this game.
“Do you now… Hm. I must unfortunately let you know that you have been misinformed. I lied.”
A sharp gasp is accompanied by a quick jut of her head upward as Enid falls back to the bed, “Wednesday Addams! I thought you were my friend , how could you be so mean ?!”
“Friend… Do you mean wife? Considering the bands on your finger, I would say it holds more accuracy.”
A nonchalant shrug, “Eh, same thing.”
A mischievous smile tugs at her lips, “It seems then, that I must get going. As your friend I feel I have overstayed my welcome. It is getting quite late.”
She goes to remove the covers and get out of bed, but a hand darts outward- pressing into her skin, and dragging her back to the pillows.
“Well, now that just won’t do,” Enid shakes her head above her, hair falling and tickling her face.
Wednesday raises an eyebrow, “Won’t it? And why not?”
“Because on top of being my bestest friend,” a huff at that, “You are my wife. And unfortunately as my wife, you have some wifely duties,” Enid nods solemnly.
Wednesday pulls her a little closer, “What do those entail?”
Enid giggles again as she flops beside Wednesday, raising her hands so as to list off the important jobs. Wednesday stretches her hand across the newly uncovered skin of her wife’s stomach.
“Well, you need to kiss me at least thirty times a day, tell me you love every time you kiss me, read for me… Oh- and back massages. Those are very important.”
“I see… And which would you like first?” Wednesday finds herself curling into Enid again. So warm.
Enid pretends to think, until she swiftly pulls Wednesday even closer into her.
“I’m thinking about starting where we left off.”
“Hm, I don’t remember that being on the list?” Wednesday teases.
Enid puffs her chest, “Well I’m adding it right now.”
“Ah, yes?”
Her eyes fall to Enid’s lips.
“Absolutely.”
A hand slides up her back neck. She’s tugged a little closer.
“Are you sure there isn’t something else you want?” Wednesday asks, feeling dizzy again as Enid’s other hand presses to her face, both of her rings cold against her cheek.
“Mmmm, maybe there is,” her wife says softly against her lips.
“Enid Addams, if you don’t want me to leave the comfort of our bed and start writing, you should tell me what you want.”
Her wife nuzzles into her at that.
“Say it again, please,” she whispers.
Even through her clouded mind, Wednesday knows what she means.
“Enid Addams.”
She feels her wife melt beneath her, and a goofy grin spreads on her face.
“I love it when you call me that.”
That gets a huffed noise of laughter out of Wednesday, “It’s your name.”
“I know. I just like it a lot.”
She knows this. They’ve been married for seven years- eight in November. The amount of times she’s seen Enid swoon at being called her full name is ridiculous at this point but she understands.
“I know you do,” Wednesday says.
Enid mumbles happily to herself, turning her face. Their lips are no longer touching, Enid’s cheek in their place.
Wednesday leans further to kiss it.
“‘Oh, Mrs. Addams, I need to speak with you!’ or ‘Would you happen to be Enid Addams?’ and ‘you’re the coolest Mrs. Addams!’” she continues to mumble to herself, “Every time- every time! I’m reminded I have the best wife ever.”
“That is true.”
It seems that Enid’s in a very humorous mood tonight because she laughs lightly again, “You’re not supposed to agree with me, you’re supposed to tell me that you think I’m the best wife ever.”
She pressed another kiss to Enid’s face, a little closer to her mouth this time, “But I know I’m the best. Why would I lie?”
Enid laughs again, “To indulge me?”
It’s said lightly but Wednesday sobers at that.
Suddenly, her wanting, her needing and yearning comes back in full force and the need to ramble on and on about how wonderful her wife is pressing at the back of her throat- words begging to be said and spilled in lengthy poetic verses. She wants to indulge her wife.
Nothing’s stopping her. She buries herself back into her wife.
“I love you, Enid Addams.”
A kiss pressed to her lips.
“You are my soul, and the air that I breathe.”
She presses another kiss to her neck. Enid’s fingers tangle further in her hair.
“I could not ask for a better person to spend the rest of my life.”
She feels her wife shake slightly against her.
“I could never live without you.”
She’s being smothered against her wife’s pronounced collarbone now. It’s blissful.
“You are beautiful, the source of all the good in this world-”
She kisses her wife’s sternum as her hands gently hold her scarred ribs.
“Wednesday Addams, if you don’t stop this I’m going to cry,” Enid says, clearly affected by her wife’s words.
She can’t stop. The ache in her chest comes back.
“I love you.”
A small sob jolts through Enid as she clings to Wednesday.
“ I love you so much, Enid, ” she says with a kiss to her chest, for fear of her voice not supporting the weight of her words.
Enid understands, it seems, because she pulls Wednesday’s face up to her level and peppers her face with the softest kisses she can muster.
It’s so hard to breathe now, her chest burns, and her pulse races to her fingertips- the blood wanting to reach further and intermingle with her wife’s. She feels everything. The tears on her wife’s cheeks, the hand in her hair and the nails on her back, and the feeling of her wife’s skin under her hands-
-she has everything.