Chapter Text

A low groan escaped Wednesday's lips as she heard her phone ring one too many times. It was still dawn, and seemed utterly absurd for anyone to be calling her at such an early hour, especially when she had yet to be irritated by her own alarm clock. However, she couldn't be surprise at this; after all, she had willingly left Nevermore to pursue her morbid ambition of becoming an author. She would immerse herself in writing, both day and night, meticulously balancing her novels with her academic studies. She would often skim through the novels she had penned during her junior years, and oh Lucifer, how she longed to unleash a torturous retribution upon her past self for crafting such dreadfully lame stories, lacking the vivid and visceral gore that would satisfy an Addams like her. Truly a disappointment.

She sat up, well, she tried to. Wednesday found herself flopping back onto her bed she so adored, her face scrunching up as the intrusive sunlight invaded her eyes. Crude. With a sigh of annoyance, she reached out to grab her phone, searching for it without the motivation to sit up and actually look. After a few seconds of fumbling, she finally found it, only to be greeted by an irritating voice that she almost believed it was a demon she had summoned. The voice cheerfully chimed, "Good morning" and "hello," further aggravating her early drowsiness.

"Barclay, what kind of absurd world do you live in, thinking you can call me and emerge unscathed?" Wednesday's voice seeped with annoyance, a rasp cutting through the line, followed by a cough and sniffle.

"By Gods, Addams, are you sick?" Bianca's response carried a tone of disgust that Wednesday could almost see through the phone. "Whatever, listen. It's been half a year, and your recent book sales are so little, its smaller than you yourself." She exclaimed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "So you better get your shit together and start writing some damn chapters."

"If you intend to criticize my writing, as well as my revenue, spare me your opinion and I’ll spare the world a corpse." Wednesday coldly retorted over the phone. She wanted to write, really, to summon the willpower to rise from her bed and pour her thoughts onto the page. Yet, there was the problem—the emptiness of her mind. Nothing is jammed in her brain, it’s fresh as a dead body at the morgue. Since the launch of her book, she had worked on her laptop day and night to conjure something— literally anything— that she could use as material. But even great writers like her have setbacks. And she acknowledged her lackluster sales. Why do you think she had little to no motivation this time? Only a little more, she would find herself taking to the streets, threatening companies to promote her work, or perhaps even threatening her target market. "If I had something to write, I would have already wrote it, sent it to you for revision, formated it, printed it, and marketed the damn thing," Wednesday scoffed, her mind knocked out from the previous day.

A heavy silence hung over the call as both girls fought the urge to unleash their frustrations on each other. Finally, Bianca broke the silence.

"Try writing romance," she suggested.

"Pardon me?" Wednesday quickly retorted, the message cutting through the ringing in her head. She ought to hang up and fire her.

"Romance? I know it’s an unfamiliar concept to you, but teenagers these days love it. Have you seen the latest book? It sold over 1.5 million copies in a single day," Bianca cautiously explained, trying not to provoke the icy girl on the other end. She didn’t have the money to risk being fired.

"Remind me why I chose you, specifically, to be my editor and publisher, in order to prevent me from unleashing hell's dimensions on Earth," Wednesday exclaimed, her gaze fixed on her phone, her grip tightening on the sheets to resist the urge to throw it out the window.

Bianca scoffed, her patience wearing thin. "Look, Wednesday—"

"I have no interest in targeting a group of idiotic teenagers who believe their lives will be influenced by people who think writing romance inked on pages, will suffice their delusions," Wednesday fired back confidently. The idea was so bad, she could laugh at it. And that was a clear sign of how unbelievably terrible it was.

Bianca sighed on the other end of the line, wishing she could make the other girl give her the benefit of the doubt. "And you think vividly describing gruesome gore and death scenes to a bunch of hormonal teenagers will make them idolize your work?"

"As opposed to making them believe they'll find their 'soulmate' in some contrived work environment or foolish situations? Yes." Wednesday reiterated her stance. She was not one to cater to the 13 to 19 age range; it simply wasn't her forte. Though if there were a group of people enamored with gruesome gore and death scenes, she would make an exception. She was starting to regret going into the world of technology. But she could definetly throw this phone out the window and buy a new one, if only it wasn’t the only phone she had custom made by threatening one of the workers at that horrid Apple shop.

Bianca had given up entirely on persuading Wednesday to write something more butterfly inducing instead of vomit inducing ones. "Whatever, Addams. I'm just saying," she gave up, her efforts being in vain.

Wednesday, on the verge of hanging up the call, couldn't help but be intrigued by the mention of this new author. "Whats… what's the name of the book and the author?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Bianca joked, "Are you planning to dox them and threaten them to take the book down so you can have fans coming your way?” She knew it was a possibility with someone like Wednesday. But still, she was definetly terrified on how her tone changed when asking.

"If you want to prevent me from becoming the headline of every news article and murder podcast, I suggest you refrain from giving me ideas," Wednesday replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. Nevertheless, she wanted the author's name and the book details.

"'Stirred Love' by Enid Sinclair," Bianca shared. "It follows a coffee shop setting and romance continues from there on. It revolves around a women-loving-women relationship so it’s gaining a lot of traction for breaking the norm of heterosexual romance books.” She stated, “Ooh, and by the way," Bianca chimed in, "this book was actually written by an actor. That might explain why it's been gaining so much popularity lately. Ever seen 'A Good Girl's Guide to Murder'? She stars in that one.” Bianca further added.

“Interesting decision to cast an actor who decided to write foolish literature regarding love stories. I appreciate the spared details, I would have broken this phone if you had continued” The name Enid Sinclair struck a chord with her. "Enid Sinclair, huh?" The author mused.

"Do you know about this girl, Addams?" Bianca asked, curious about Wednesday's familiarity with the author. It was unusual for her to know writers from this generation, given the only authors she knew from her heart were classic authors like Edgar Allan Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, And Algernon Blackwood.

"The name seems familiar, but I can not put a face to it. I know nothing about this girl; it is but a vague sense of familiarity," Wednesday admitted. She made a mental note to check out Enid Sinclair's work after stopping by the café she often walked past.

"Well, okay. Just let me know if you—" Bianca began, but before she could finish her sentence, Wednesday hung up, wanting nothing more than to erase her editor/publisher's voice from her mind.

After that dreaded phone call, Wednesday went back to sleep, completely forgetting about the day ahead of her. No worries, though. She could always make coffee from the comfort of her own home. When she finally awoke from her slumber, it was already 5pm, and she was greeted by a barrage of 10 notifications and 5 missed calls from her publisher/editor/a tolerable friend. It made her feel like disappearing into eternal sleep. For a few moments, she stared at the ceiling, wondering where her literature fell short. Was it the gore? No, her descriptions were all so disturbingly detailed, Bianca had nightmares for weeks on end. It was bound to pique curiosity and attract readers. Could it be the characters? Impossible. Wednesday had spent weeks crafting the perfect characters for her book. Maybe it was the genre? But there were already people who adored horror as much as Wednesday. All of her previous books had been more successful than the recent, so why was this one not resonating? With a heavy sigh, she got up from bed and headed for a shower before her thoughts consume her completely.

After taking a shower, she decided to get her head straight by visiting the local library to hopefully, gather some materials for her next novel. Fortunately, the library was a measly 20-minute walk away from her apartment, She chooses to make the most of her time and be productive rather than aimlessly wandering around New York, a place she had previously described as awful after she willingly bought her apartment.

To everyone she had walked pass, couldn't help but exchange glances at her. It wasn't surprising, considering she had an undeniable aura of celebrity around her. With sunglasses shielding her eyes and a naturally graceful posture and walk, she seemed like an embodiment of a star. And in a way, she was a celebrity—an author, to be precise. She had written the renowned "Chronicles of Viper De La Muerte" at the young age of 19. However, like any popular work, the hype surrounding it would occasionally fade over time. Nevertheless, she felt a sense of satisfaction when she reached the library, with a few people approaching her for autographs.

She felt the quietness take over her as she settled at an unoccupied table. Taking a seat, she brought out her laptop and placed it in front of her. It was about time to research the name, Enid Sinclair, a name she had completely forgotten about in the midst of her departure. Opening the laptop, she swiftly navigated to Google, intending to search for both "Enid Sinclair" and "Stirred Love." She couldn't help but grimace at the awful title. Perhaps it was her personal bias, all love stories were destined to crumble eventually, or is that she did not feel a single miniscule of a feeling when she read the summary nor the first few paragraphs of the PDF.

She went back to the Wikipedia page about the actor, and her gaze was drawn to the image of Enid that appeared on the right-hand side. Enid looked like to be a girl with lustrous blonde hair, cascading like molten gold, with vibrant, color-dyed tips. Her smile radiated warmth and brightness, yet an sura of intimidation surrounded her, perhaps it was due to her status as a rising star. Judging by the clothes she wore in the photo, it seemed she had a penchant for eye-catching and headache-inducing fashion choices. Wednesday felt like she was flash-bombed.

According to the website, Enid was in her early twenties and stood at a height of 161 centimeters. Unfortunately for Wednesday, the actor was taller than her. However, the article provided little additional information beyond that, offering little to no description of Enid's character or personality. Truly a disappointment. If it were Wednesday, she could’ve found her family tree and IP address from the getgo.

"Enid Sinclair," she whispered to herself, intending to keep the thought to her own mind. However, it slipped out.

A squeak of a ‘hm?’ was brought to her attention.

She looked up across her to only find, the goddamn actor, Enid Sinclair herself sitting in front of her with phone in hand and earbuds in her ears. 

Oh how the God’s above Wednesday despised her.

Chapter Text

‘A Good Girl's Guide To Murder’ Star Enid Sinclair Unveils Her New Book, "Stirred Love" Featuring a WLW Relationship - Could This Be Related to Her Love Life?

Enid Sinclair, widely recognized for her role as Pip Fitz-Amobi in the popular book series adaptation, "A Good Girls Guide to Murder," has unveiled her new book, "Stirred Love." With its focus on women-loving-women (WLW) relationships, Sinclair's goal in writing this is to present the diverse love stories in literature.

In a recent interview, the star claimed she always had a secret desire to write. "Well... Ever since I was a kid, I kinda wanted to become an author," she confessed in a recent interview. "Obviously, that took a turn, and I'm now an actor! I don't regret it, since I've been paired with and met some wonderful people in this career. But I always wished I had written something to give to the world, and...here it is!"

Fans of Sinclair speculated since the announcement of her new book. Some eagerly claim that "Stirred Love" may provide a glimpse into the actress's personal love life, given that the main character is portrayed and described in a manner close to Sinclair herself. However, during a recent interview with TUDUM, the actress dismissed those theories, saying that the story is purely fictional. Nevertheless, fans continue to believe it was.

The actress herself frowned and maybe was a bit irked at this article. Sure she based the main character off of her, but the girl she paired her with was entirely fictional! Because there was no way a goddess-like girl could exist in real life. She was just feeding her delusions— nothing more! With a sigh, she stepped into the library, phone in hand and earbuds tucked in her ears. Music always made her feel so comfortable, and the playlist mixed with all of her faves always brought her relief, and the soft atmosphere of the library made life feel more peaceful than it truly was.

She greeted the librarian who was used to Sinclair’s daily visits at the library and in fact— they were actually great friends, brought together by the librarian's girlfriend who happened to be Sinclair's personal manager. And they honestly got along due to their shared obsession with Taylor Swift.

“Hey, Divina! Good to see you here again.” The actress exclaimed, gleaming with genuine happiness. Who wouldn’t? This library always took all of her thoughts away whether it was a bad shoot or just a tough day overall. She was thankful she at least had a friend in the library, especially when her fellow actors were busy with their own lives or enjoying quality time with their families. But Enid couldn't blame them for that, she finds it sweet. But considering Enid’s relationship with her family, that probably won’t be happening anytime soon.

“Enid! Glad to see you here too. Tough shoot?” Divina leaned on the table, asking the actor about her day. She didn’t have any shoots scheduled for today, nor did she have a bad day herself. She just wanted to relax. "Nope, not really," Enid admitted. "Just experiencing that feeling when you're both an actor and a newly published author that just released a book that shocked fans over the world.” Enid confessed, it was true. She didn’t know if she shocked the world since her writing was good, or if she shocked the world since her writing was beyond terrible.

“Oh, right. Don’t worry, it’ll go away soon enough.” Divina assured her, offering some comfort. And Enid felt pretty nice afterward. “Thanks, Div. I'm gonna go take a seat over there.” She said, pointing towards a table. But before she could make her way, she suddenly doubled back, remembering something; she wanted to invite Divina to join her and her manager for drinks! "Oh, by the way, wanna join me and Yoko for drinks at the Weathervane? It's on me!" The librarian smiled and nodded in response. "I'll be there, 'Nid! Don't worry." Enid returned the smile and continued on her way to the table, only to find her usual chair occupied. So, she chose the one facing it instead.

Enid took a seat in front of a girl who seemed absorbed in her laptop, she couldn’t see her whole face, but there was something oddly familiar about her. Enid was texting Yoko about the recent articles on her book, that is, until she heard her name being called out by the girl in front of her. “Enid Sinclair,” a chilling voice emerged from the girl behind the laptop that was surrounded by an abundance of books. She felt like she was going to get kidnapped. Nervously, she managed to squeak out a faint "hm?" and turned her gaze towards the girl, who had popped her head up from behind the laptop.

Oh fuck. Enid thought.

Enid was greeted by a girl that had braids that cascaded from the front, with a nicely kept fringe was on top of all of that. Dark, furrowed, tense eyes that can bore onto the very depths of your soul, and the slightest (hottest) slit on her left eyebrow. Skin pale as a decapitated dead body and lips that were coated in black lipstick. Enid appeared more shocked than the girl in front of her. She couldn't help but inspect the girl further, completely forgetting to greet her with a simple "Hi" or "Hello." The girl was dressed in a black turtleneck, and Enid noticed that she had pierced ears. Pretty, Breathtaking, Hot, Just all overall so pretty! Enid felt like she just manifested the love of her life in front of her. Enid felt like she was going to shut down. Enid felt like she was going to fucking die! She just saw the most prettiest, and gorgeous(ious? God, she was even making up words) girl and she felt like she was slowly going up the stairs of heaven.

“Ha.. Hi!” Enid choked on her words, the other girl looked at her weirdly. Well, who wouldn’t? Enid bet on herself she looked constipated at the moment. “You were calling for me?” She managed to say without murmuring swears left and right.

The pale girl stayed silent, making Enid wonder if she said the wrong thing. Did she? The actress was now fidgeting with her phone but her gaze stayed still on the other, horribly skilfully texting Yoko about this situation she’s stuck on.

yoko+manager

Y: so theyre just assuming???

yeah!! i mean i wished i met someone like that but since cupid hates me for whatever reason, i do not!!! :E

Y: nid thats like asking a for a miracle if you wanna meet someone 'terrifyingly attractive'

pls do not use thr words i use in my book  its actually so cringe when i hear it from someone :E

Y: mb 🤷‍♀️ btw you have a shoot on monday

👍:E

hrlp :E

FUCK HOKO HDLP GHETDS THSI ATTARCTIVD GIRL EHOS STARKNG DAVVERS JNTK MY EHES WBAG DK JT DO :E

HELP KM FFLEING LIKE KM  BRING TSKEN BY R LORD :E

YOKO SHE LOKDK LIKR THE GIRL IN MY  OOK I DAESR SHE DORS :E

enid sinclair sent an attatchment

Y: WOAH SLOW DOWN IM TRYNA EAT MAN

SHRS SK SHES SHO SHDS SJO'cnvn!?'!?!?! :E

WIA ISKT THIS THE GIRL :E

Y: enid are you telling me that this attractive girl is a laptop

ISN TTHIS THE GIRL WHO EORT EHAT BOOK :E

Y: ARE YOU FUCKING TYPING WHILE STARING AT HER??

Y: enid its gonna sound shocking but i actuslly need a clear photo of the girl instead of her laptop

The two sat in silence, the braided girl sneaking glances between Enid and her laptop. With each passing moment, the actress grew increasingly nervous. Is she an undercover cop!? Did I accidentally commit a felony!? Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the pale girl broke the silence.

"I presume that you are Enid Sinclair?” she said, her tone unbothered and her face naturally stoic, which was unusual. Usually people would give her weird with a mix of amazement looks, since it was unexpected to encounter actors or famous celebrities in a library. Normally it would be in fancy restaurants, bars, or high-end shopping districts.

Enid stared at her, dumbfounded? Even she doesn’t know. "Uh, yeah... Yeah! I'm Enid Sinclair. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards the side of her laptop, offering a handshake. But the other girl didn't even acknowledge her gesture! Which left Enid feeling somewhat deflated.

"The pleasure is far from mine." The girl remarked dryly, prompting Enid to withdraw her hand. Immediately or the actress felt like she was going to leave this library with a bloody wrist with no hand attatched to it. "You wrote... Stirred Love, Yes?"

Enid, trying her best to brush off the heavy amounts of awkwardness, nodded. The other girl nodded in response. And once again, the two sat in silence. Was Enid always this awkward?

Enid, desperately trying to spark up another conversations for Gods know why, asked, "What's yours?" Perhaps she could make a new friend? The othergirl merely raised an eyebrow and gave her a quick glance. “Your name,” she repeated hersef.

Enid recieved no response and that probably was a sign to just shut up and did rightfully so, not wanting to push it.

yoko+manager

Y: enid its gonna sound shocking but i actuslly need a clear photo of the girl instead of her laptop

no way in hrll am i going to take a picture of her without her permission! :E

she looks like that one author that my brother really likes :E

like REAAALLLY likes :E

he has like shrines of her book everywhere in my house back in san francisco :E

but i forgot the name of the book :E

it was like viper something???? :E

by like adams? like adams sandler or somrthing idk :E

Y: no way you just met THE wednesday addams????

OH OH OH WRDNESDAY ADDAMS THATS IT :E

Y: IS SHE GATHERING MATERIAL FOR HER NEW NOVEL?? IS THAT WHY SHES AT A LIBRARY??

Y: she hasnt released a new one ever since the agonizing journey of Nevermore

Y: enid the world will actually go in shock if you guys were spotted together 

how so??? we're like two different people. and shes like really famous! :E

also i dont even know if this is wednesday addams :E

maybe just a look alike?? :E

Y: enid people are literally spreading rumors and speculating that the girl in your book IS wednesday addams

yoko tanaka sent a link

Y: theres whole ass articles about it!! people are tweeting it too

Y: did you not know that author even existed??

WELL IM SORRY IF IM A COWARD AT HORROR BOOKS AND WILL PROBABLY CRY IF I EVEN SNEAK A PEAK AT HER WORKS :E 

mt brother said thag book literally feels like your investigating a brutal crime scene and i just botled out the room :E

Y: i forgot you were scared out of your mind when i took you to watch scream 5

Y: now that i think about it wednesday looks simillar to that one girl in the movie

is she an actor too??? that will be SO COOL IF SHE WAS :E

Y: idk

Y: anyway

Y: refrain from interacting with her in public, if thats even wednesday addams

why?? i can just turn down the rumors and stuff!! :E

Y: oh enid honey, you went into panic mode as soon you got a glimpse of her

Y: if i didnt know any better, i wouldve thought you have a crush on her

Y: also, people are RELENTLESS when it comes to dating rumors and scandals

Y: aren't you a swiftie? taylor swift gets harassed every now and then because of it. its disgusting to say the least

Y: people that indulge in this kind of stuff can either break you down and pester you for life or hype you up and mind their own business

im guessing the latter is uncommon..? :E

Y: the one smart thing youve said today, congrats!

Y: also the internet already has you on a chokehold because of that stupid PR decision that paired you and that musical dude

Enid nervously whined at Yoko's words. And she knew all too well that people how rudely relentless people are when it comes to taking a guess on who's dating who in the fame industry. She already went through the dating rumours when PR thought it was a good idea to boost her image as a small actor to "date" the A-Lister, Ajax Petropolous. thinking it would generate buzz and publicity. Her management and Enid herself didn’t know it would become a nightmare to digest.

Enid had been bombarded with harassment from Ajax's fanbase. So much so, she experienced intrusive encounters at her front gate and even social media outlets were gossiping about it. It was that part of her career that made her want to die and regret waking up more than ever. It didn't help that Ajax was actually a good friend of hers, and had been since their high school days. They were just meeting because they hadn't seen eachother in a while because of the life they've been living after school. She’s just glad that, that part of her life as an actor hadn't resurfaced, and Ajax remained a supportive friend. Even sharing sentiment towards her, and kept his fans from attacking her.

A chilling voice took out of Enid negative thoughts, “Wednesday Addams.” And Enid was fucking dumbfounded. Her eyes widening, and her mouth forming an 'O' shape as she looked up from her phone.

“You’re… Wednesday Addams!?” She (kind of) screamed and Divina gave her a stern “shh.”

Enid glanced at the librarian, who was waving her phone in the air, realizing that Yoko had shared their entire conversation about Wednesday Addams through a direct message. Oh my God, that fucking girl... Enid thought with frustration, suffering internally at Yoko's actions.

“I believe I am, unless I'm simply an uncanny doppelgänger of the famous author, Wednesday Addams,” Oh she’s a funny one. Enid chuckled at her, “So, are you here for material? Well, on your new book?” Enid asked, the question was more likely influenced by Yoko's earlier conversation with her.

“I am afraid, yes. I have been suggested by my irritating publisher that I should write romance instead of my usual style.” Wednesday sighed, obviously annoyed by the mention of her publisher. “She brought up your book as some sort of reference. But I've read serial killer diaries more coherent than yours," she added, a statement that saddened Enid and made her question whether it was the right choice to publish her work. I mean, the Wednesday Addams thought her work was so gramatically incorrect! She might as well see her book catch up in flames.

"...But it was still an intriguing read. It has the potential to become one of my favorite horror stories," Wednesday continued, did she notice the disappointment on Enid's face and took pity on her?

Enid's face lit up instantly. "But it's not a horror story, it's romance!" she exclaimed.

"It gave me goosebumps and terrified me. I fear it may ruin the pleasure I find in nightmares," Wednesday exclaimed, people actually enjoyed nightmaress? Enid thought to herself

The blonde giggled. “Writing romance is easy. You just need to, like, immerse yourself in romantic relationships and indulge in romantic TV for inspiration!" Enid suggested.

"It is easier said than done. I detest such foolish fantasies as love stories, It is a waste of time and productivity." Wednesday remarked, an eye twitch accompanying her words. “Even more so with relationships.”

Enid looked at Wednesday, a sparkling idea taking hold of her mind, probably forgetting the advice her manager had just given her moments ago.

"You know, I could be your inspiration. Like a cupid.” Enid blurted out without much thought. It only took a couple of seconds that she realized on how silly her suggestion sounded. "Oh... Oh my God, not like that," she quickly clarified, realizing the unintended implication. "I mean, I could help you in getting writing material! Setting up blind dates for you, and whatnot.." She zipped up her mouth before she could say anything that she might regret.

Wednesday looked her weirdly, definitely more than weirdly. But the next moment caught Enid completely shocked.

"We could strike a deal, cupid.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday Addams’ search history:

• how to know if you’re going into an anaphylactic shock
• heart attack symptoms
• is it possible for one to be cursed/poisoned when looking at another human being
• why am I feeling
• Enid Sinclair

That is certainly a search history befitting an author like Wednesday Addams. To recap, Wednesday had encountered, the one and only, Enid Sinclair in a library just across the street on a calm Sunday afternoon. The devil certainly comes in many forms.

Enid Sinclair was undoubtedly an interesting character, without having to insult her entire being, and the actress's decision to loudly scream the Addams' name in a library only made Wednesday deduce her as such. Only a little more, she'll walk out of this library with blood on her hands. However, she couldn't resort to violent means, somehow. Why couldn’t she plan out extensive murders like she always used to when meeting someone? Why couldn't she summon the courage to spew insults at the girl before her? There could only be one explanation: she was cursed. Yes, that must be it. Why else would she feel like she was about to collapse on the hard wooden table and feel like her mouth was dry? It seemed like the only plausible conclusion.

“I believe I am, unless I'm simply an uncanny doppelgänger of the famous author, Wednesday Addams,” Wednesday spoke in her usual unforgiving tone with a hint of darkness, her face remained stoic. She’s one who was known for her sarcastic lines, Bianca had repeatedly warned her that she shouldn’t be threatening her fans then adding a “Just sarcasm,” at the near end so that her image wouldn’t be destroyed. Foolish sayings, in Wednesday’s mind, what was an author to do if not provoke her fans? Clearly, sarcasm had worked in her favor and became her trademark. A word of an angelic cursed voice brought her out of her mind, it was Enid. Of course, it was Enid, she just caught Wednesday off guard. An Addams was never caught off guard— What the hell is going on with her today?

Enid had a flicker of a slight glimmer in her eyes, Wednesday had noticed this part of Enid, her eyes seem to shine when in thought. Only because she only intended to research this girl even further, with the intention of murder of course. Clearly, it isn’t working when she’s currently in a different environment than usual. That’s why she couldn’t do her usual train of thought. "You know, I could be your inspiration. Like a cupid.” Enid blurted out. What is she talking about? "Oh... Oh my God, not like that," she quickly clarified. "I mean, I could help you in getting writing material! Setting up blind dates for you, and whatnot.."

Wednesday could only look at her weirdly. A little more than weirdly, it struck her as incredibly odd that Enid would propose such an idiotic idea. Perhaps Enid was half deaf, considering the Addams had just explained that she absolutely despised romantic relationships and situations.

Alarm bells were going off in her head as she tried to get hold of the situation. Whether she could agree with the idea or not. If she agreed to this idea— she could use Enid to get more revenue on her book, as well as a change of genre. Obviously, it’s going to be a one-time thing. It brought Wednesday to her horrors if she continued her career as a romance writing author.

If she were to agree, she could use Enid's assistance to generate more revenue for her book and venture into a new genre. However, the thought of continuing her career as a romance author filled Wednesday with dread and horror. She contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision, realizing that if she pursued this path, it would just be a one-time thing. Just so that her publisher/editor can get off her ass. But she has to endure this girl infiltrating her daily life.

Reject. Reject the damn idea, Addams. Reject the fucking—!

“We could strike a deal, cupid.”

.

It was then Wednesday Addams realized who was her greatest traitor: herself.

Oh how her ancestors would’ve been laughing in their graves if they saw this shit go down. They knew all too well of the vows the young Addams had made to herself every night, promising her parents that she would not succumb to the Addams Curse—an insidious poison that ran through the veins of every Addams family member. It was a sickness, a dark fate she was expected to embrace. Yet, Wednesday vowed to her parents night after night, that she would not become like them. The thought of showing the same grotesque displays of affection as her parents was revolting to her.

“You… You're up for it!?” Enid's face lit up with an overwhelming amount of excitement, radiating so much expression that Wednesday felt as if she could drown in it. Normally, Wednesday found the idea of drowning fun and exciting, but this was an entirely different level. The sudden jump and impact of the table made Wednesday fear for the living capacity of her laptop. She knew that if it were to fall and break, violence might become a necessary choice.

"Are you deaf?" Wednesday retorted, the implication being that Enid seemed to have selective hearing or just, none at all.

Enid quickly responded, her words overflowing with enthusiasm, "No, no! I'm just shocked. Oh my God, the Wednesday Addams going on a blind date!"

Wednesday scoffed. "It appears you don't understand my character, or perhaps your ears simply refuse to acknowledge the stuff I said earlier, that I despise romance with every fiber of my being. Do you recall?" Romance was not her cup of tea, and it was finally dawning on her: why did she even consider accepting this? Just moments ago, she had been discussing with Bianca how she would prefer death over writing a simple piece of romance fiction. Yet here she was, agreeing with this absurd idea. Influenced by a famous actress who she thinks have the ability to decrease someone’s patience by a lot. Or maybe it was just Wednesday.

Enid looked confused. “Then… How are we supposed to do this?” Her head tilted to the side. Another characteristic Wednesday took notice of. For evil intentions in mind, obviously. Yet, the question also rang in Wednesday's own thoughts. How could Enid's assistance and quote-on-quote "skill" in writing romance be implicated without having Wednesday’s patience run dry, leading to a series of dreadful dates that would undoubtedly turn into crime scenes. She pondered for a moment, silence taking over them. Again. It seemed inevitable. But then Enid spoke up.

"Co-writer," she proposed.

"Excuse me?" Wednesday quickly retorted, immediately dismissing the idea in her mind, although she lacked the courage to voice her opinion out loud, for some inexplicable reason. This only further strengthened her belief that she had been cursed by the actress!

Enid persisted, "I could be your co-writer, your sidekick," she exclaimed, causing Wednesday to grimace at the word. "Imagine, Addams & Sinclair!" Enid waved her hands in the air, attempting to emphasize her point. The audacity of the suggestion surprised Wednesday; she had been told by Bianca that even her readers were afraid to compliment her book and resorted to letters instead of face-to-face confrontations.

Wednesday pondered the proposal, carefully weighing the pros and cons. Teaming up with Enid could potentially attract more readers, but her existing fan base, who enjoyed her trademark horror and gore genre, might assume she was permanently transitioning to romance. Enid could serve as inspiration for writing these foolish romantic situations, given that Enid was idiotic herself. However, it also meant enduring Enid's constant presence even with her busy schedule as an actor. But then again, she can get Bianca off her ass.

"The idea is settled. Consider yourself my worst co-writer yet," Wednesday declared, extending her hand to an already ecstatic Enid Sinclair. It seemed that accepting Enid's request only made her even happier.

Enid grinned, a wide grinned that made her face shine like never before that made the author irk to her core. Wednesday wanted to rip her eyes and her cold black heart out for it. “So you’re finally gonna shake my hand now?” Enid teased Wednesday, “I believe handshakes serve as a form of security, sealing an agreement. Shaking hands during introductions is unnecessary if you're uncertain about forming a bond." Wednesday swore she saw Enid’s grin deflate by a millimeter. But the blonde continued to extend her hand and shake Wednesday’s, succumbing to the gesture.

As Wednesday extended her hand, she glanced at her watch, which displayed the time as 5:12. Had she and Enid been engrossed in conversation for this long? She could have sworn it was only 1:43 when she first arrived. After the handshake, Wednesday swiftly began packing her belongings and placing her books into her bag.

"Leaving already?" Enid inquired, and Wednesday detected a subtle shift in Enid's usual tone. How was it that Wednesday seemed to have Enid's nature memorized and calculated so precisely? They had only met a few hours ago. "No, I suppose I'm just packing my books and tidying the table for the sheer pleasure of it, are you not?” Wednesday retorted, prompting a glare from Enid.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Enid so sarcastically said. Wednesday, even in her best efforts in trying not to show a smile, smiled. But only the sides of her lips went up. Wednesday pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Where is your home, Sinclair?" she asked Enid, who hesitated before responding.

“Uhm… Just down the block on XX Street." Wednesday nodded and then someone answered the call.

“Barclay," Wednesday stated sternly, hoping to conclude the conversation with her publicist as quickly as possible. Sure, she could have called another person, but she preferred to avoid dealing with more people at this time of day. 1 annoying publicist and a somehow tolerable actress was enough for her.

"Addams, any new material yet?" Bianca inquired, a knowing grin evident in her voice.

"We can discuss that later. For now, arrange an Uber for Enid Sinclair to go to XX Street," Wednesday requested. She glanced at Enid, who seemed about to protest the favor Wednesday was extending. But Wednesday held up her palm, effectively silencing the actress.

"...Make a stop and reservation at a classy restaurant," Wednesday added while eyeing the blonde, discreetly placing a few hundred-dollar bills on the table. Then hung up on Bianca as soon she gave her the green light. She questioned her own decision to lend money to a complete stranger, but it seemed she was compelled to do so. She was so goddamned cursed it wasn’t even funny anymore.

"Wednesday!" Enid swiftly stood up and pushed the money back towards the author. "This is like... 200 to 300 dollars! I... I can't accept this," Enid exclaimed. Wednesday felt a wave of confusion wash over her. Isn't money a form of gratitude? she wondered. She hummed in response, "Most people would be pleased to receive as such. I suppose you are not part of the average population." Wednesday sighed, reluctantly adding, "Consider it my... thanks." She grimaced at the word. "But people usually just say 'thank you' and move on!" Enid argued.

Oh. Right. That was the saying. Thank you.

Wednesday wanted to say it, but she couldn't.

"I advise you not to argue with me any further, unless you intend to have a meeting with your creator," Wednesday, finally, remarked. "You should get going. Your uber is here." With that, Wednesday made her way toward the door, leaving Enid astonished and with no choice but to accept the offered money and agree to Wednesday's proposal. As Wednesday reached the door, she heard voices conversing and turned her head slightly to see the librarian in a chat with the actress.

Enid and the librarian appeared to be close friends, it was evident by their friendly interaction. Enid wore an ecstatic smile, seemingly her way of extending friendliness to everyone she encountered. "Enid," Wednesday called out, "do you want the Uber driver to lose their patience as well?" Enid glanced at Wednesday, then back at the librarian, who smiled and bid her farewell, saying something that Wednesday, despite her skill at reading people and lips, couldn't fully decipher. Shame. She would need to sharpen her lip-reading skills once she returned home.

Wednesday allowed Enid to catch up before she swiftly swung the door open in front of her. "Watch out, will you! This is your new co-writer. You should at least make sure I'm alive, or conscious, so I can write!" Enid scoffed, opening the door. "Whether you are alive or not does not change the fact that you will be my co-writer. I've seen the dead communicate and write more clearly in a Ouija board than you.” With that, Wednesday retorted and headed towards the waiting Uber driver.

As the young Addams opened the car door for Enid (mistake number 1), she leaned down and retrieved a business card from her pocket. The card contained all the necessary details, including her alias, address, phone number, and the contact information of someone reliable to reach out to in case she is absent. (Mistake number 2) "I will call you if it means necessary. But do not attempt to call or reach out to me first if you value the significance of your life," Wednesday warned. "The Uber will be making a stop at a restaurant," she added.

In the distance, Wednesday could hear something, but before she could turn her head, Enid spoke up. "Woah— Woah, okay. This is moving too fast," Enid exclaimed, fidgeting with the card in her hand. "Thank you for the card. But why stop at a restaurant? I've already eaten!"

"My publisher informed me that the company mistreats you... let's say, less than adequate. I, on the other hand, enjoy inflicting torture and whatnot, but I despise companies that take advantage of their agents and subordinates. Consider it your salary for being my co-writer," Wednesday explained. She swiftly closed the car door before Enid could respond and watched as the car drove away. (Mistake number 3) From a distance, she could see Enid's face, likely protesting the fact that Wednesday had given her a ton of money and a reservation at a restaurant.

A distant click caught Wednesday's attention, and she swore she saw a bright light flash somewhere in that same direction. She glanced to her left but found nobody there. She thought that perhaps she had attracted spirits on her way to the library, but that didn't seem to be the case. It had been ages since she last communicated with the dead, and she had made it clear to them that any attempts at interaction would result to them taking a trip to an unpleasant second afterlife.

"If you intend to stalk me, that is rather a poor choice of gadget. Even a naked mole rat could detect you from a mile away," Wednesday remarked, slowly walking towards the corner where she had heard the sound. To her disappointment, there was no one there, not even an attempted kidnapping. Shame.

Wednesday walked back to her apartment, and she was immediately bombarded with vibrations from her phone as soon she opened the door, indicating an overwhelming number of notifications. Thinking that it was likely Bianca or a barrage of spam emails, Wednesday, likewise, switched her phone to silent mode and activated Do Not Disturb. She decided to ditch changing into comfortable shorts rather than cargo and simply removed her turtle neck for a sports bra, seeking relief from the itchiness that had built up during her conversation with Enid. She settled back into bed, ignoring her usual writing desk where she would pour her ideas onto her laptop. Letting out a muffled groan into her pillow, she wanted to sleep, but found herself unable to do so. So, it seems she was cursed.

Turning her head to the side, she retrieved her phone from the bedside table, hoping that the notifications were merely spam emails that she could threaten for some entertainment. However, she soon discovered that the phrase "speak of the devil, and it will appear" rang true.

And oh, how it had appeared indeed.

Enid Sinclair

ES: HI WEDNESDAY!!!!

ES: have i ever told tou your name is too long

ES: oh tmg god can i give you a nickanme???

ES: willa is so adorable on you!!

ES: or maybe wends idk your choice

Enid, shouldn't you be at the restaurant I reserved for you? :WA

And do you even know of the term "Do not?" I specifically made a point to not call or reach out to me first. :WA

Your grammar in text messages is somehow worse than what I have read in your book. :WA

I am now contemplating whether we should continue this arrangement of ours. It seems I may have made a mistake in agreeing with you. :WA

And, no. You do not have the permission to give me such dreadful nicknames. :WA

ES: aw shucks

Enid Sinclair has changed your nickname to 'Willa!'

? :W

ES: question mark indeed!

ES: BUT MY GRAMMR IS ACTUALLY PRETTY GOOD I SWESR

ES: also we r already talking dont go all murderous there

ES: as for my reseevation

ES: i kind of jsut bribed them into giving the resevration to another person

Bribery is not something I did not expect from you. You have exceeded my expectations Sinclair. :W

ES: likewise!

ES: also i was hopimg that youll be up for dinner 

ES: i was gona text u about how i wnna treat you st that restaurant

ES: but i was like eh i vslue my life

You are not so impulsive after all, Sinclair. :W

ES: yup snd im gonna go to bed

ES: my manager told me i have a shoot on monday

ES: goodnight willa!!!!!!!

Wednesday left Enid on read. It would have been unwise for her to reply, let alone bid her goodnight back, as she feared she might say something she would later regret. Wednesday couldn't help but wonder how Enid managed to keep all her organs intact while texting her. If her spirit could manifest, it would likely be laughing at her predicament.

Damned that actress.

Chapter Text

Rising Star Enid Sinclair and Famous Author Wednesday Addams Spotted Interacting on a Sunday Night! - Are the Theories About their Romantic Connection True?

This mysterious encounter between the two figures has left fans wondering:

Are they more than friends?

Chapter Text

Wednesday's request seemed to leave Enid shocked, but even Wednesday herself wasn't entirely sure why she was doing this. Seriously, she didn't have a clear understanding of what or why is she doing this. But all for the sake of her book, right? She chose to invite and make this near to intolerable actress her co-writer. Just for her book.

But God, does she need Enid to be quiet for a mere second to gather her thoughts. She planned to combine their skills together, with Wednesday's expertise in the gore aspect and Enid focusing on romance. Though Bianca had insisted that romance should be the main focus of the story, downplaying the insanely detailed gore Wednesday writes. But the author found that notion of a plan, foolish. Her genre in writing was what had earned her the title of a renowned author, and she wasn’t willing to compromise her original style for the sake of a new novel.

“I need you to take me on a date,” Wednesday said to the actress. And to say that Enid was shocked was an understatement—it was as if she had seen a ghost. But Wednesday had planned this interaction and idea carefully. She knew that she wrote best when she experienced things firsthand. It’s how she wrote all of her novels so detailed. Also, what’s the point of threatening those writers to delete those foolish articles if this doesn’t work well in her favor.

Enid was left speechless, only able to utter a maximum of two words, “What. What? Wait, what!?” Wednesday wondered if Enid’s hearing gets more significantly impaired as the days go on. “Must I elaborate any further?” She scoffed.

“No, you mustn’t! It’s just surprising?” Enid’s hands fumbled nervously, making Wednesday believe she might break something within a five-meter radius. The distressed actress cleared her throat and asked, “You want us to, like, fake date?” Wednesday noticed that Enid always seemed to be on the verge of sickness whenever they were to interact, her face always turn red.

Fake date. Of course not. The idea of dating, let alone fake dating, seemed idiotic to Wednesday. Though it was in the spectrum of manipulation, she could get behind that. But it hadn’t crossed her mind when she first devised the plan until she discussed it with Bianca. The young Addams wanted nothing more than a firsthand experience to enhance her writing. There was nothing more beneficial to her than that.

“Having to ‘fake date’ is meant to fool the public into thinking we are in a relationship, this, on the other hand, will be kept between us in private. I am merely asking for a demonstration. I find that I work best when I see or experience my descriptions in real life,” Wednesday explained, her determination evident as she saw this as some sort of challenge. Well, everything is a challenge to her. Just need the right sense of provocation. She made an extensive vow to herself that she would not develop anything for Enid during this time. She would not yearn for her interest, she would not pine for her, she would not miss the warmth of her colorful presence. And she, most definitely, would not fall in love with Enid.

Enid suddenly stood up, “Okay… Alright! I can do that. When is this whole dating thing going to start?” She held up air quotes as she mentioned the word dating, it irked Wednesday how she mentally noted that. But that was another thing that she had trouble with, she had no idea where the story is going to take place. Wednesday normally would have a plan for her stories. A step-by-step agenda and a visual aid on her corkboard. But now, she had none. Zero. In times like these, which ever so rarely comes up, she should be writing as the experiences go by.

“To my demise, there is still no draft nor an idea. So I will be listing down my plan for this as we go on. And it will start tonight,” Wednesday carefully explained. Enid, slightly confused, asked for clarification, “Sorry, wait, go on?” Was she not that clear? “Yes, Sinclair.” Wednesday further reaffirmed. “This… is going to be a long-time thing?” Wednesday found herself puzzled by Enid’s question, honestly, when did she ever not get confused with Enid? Of course, it was going to be a long-term agreement. Writing a book takes time and if it weren’t for Wednesday’s lack of experience in romance and her views in the genre, she could’ve written the novel in less than a year. “Yes, this is a long-term agreement. Is there something wrong?”

Enid’s expression resembled that of someone that peeked through Medusa’s eyes. Did Wednesday say something wrong? Or was it too much for Enid? Though in her short prolonged thoughts, Enid responded. “No, not at all. But isn’t that already fake dating? We’re not in a real relationship, so we don’t really date. It’s just a fake one for you to get the gist of romance.” Enid expressed and Wednesday hummed in thought. She understood that they wouldn’t be engaging in a genuine romantic relationship, even the mere thought made her nauseous. “Plus, I am your co-writer, after all. I could write all the date scenes you want myself!” Enid added, trying to offer a solution.

Enid was right in a sense. Wednesday didn’t even know why she requested that in the first place. But she persisted in the idea for God knows why. “Enid, all of my novels are written based on my experiences,” Wednesday explained, noticing a shiver running down Enid's spine as she spoke. “And so, I insist we should make do with this.” Before Enid could interject, Wednesday continued, "Besides, I want to try my hand at writing romance. It's a challenge I hope to overcome, even if it may feel like a death sentence at times.”

Enid smiled and nodded in agreement. "Alright... So, are we going now?" she asked eagerly while Wednesday made her way to the kitchen, boiling water and grabbing a packet of ground coffee beans, shaking it with a sense of purpose. "Have I mentioned the word 'private'?" Wednesday remarked, retrieving two cups and placing them on the counter. "We will be keeping this a secret. Therefore, we depart at midnight," she explained. The stealthy nature of their arrangement made their ordeal risky. Both of them were well-known figures, and if they were caught engaging in something private or potentially illegal, the consequences could be catastrophic. The whole world will either destroy them or… Well, there’s nothing much than destroy.

Wednesday handed Enid her coffee, along with tons of sugar packets. She heard that Enid preferred her coffee really, really, really, damn sweet. She couldn't fathom how someone could consume that much sugar without visibly recoiling. "Thanks, Wends!" Enid expressed her gratitude, to which Wednesday simply responded with a nonchalant hum, completely ignoring that God-awful nickname. She settled back in a chair across from Enid and began reading a book, while Enid remained in her place. Wednesday glanced at Enid curiously. "If you are waiting for a conversation to arise, you will be disappointed," she warned. Enid chuckled and pulled out her phone, both of them patiently waiting for midnight to arrive.

The clock struck 11:30 PM.

Wednesday rose from her seat and began packing her bags with the necessary items. Of course with her own personal arsenal of knuckles and knives, for personal safety. Enid had excused herself earlier to use the bathroom and Wednesday agreed. And so she found herself making her way to the bathroom door, knocking on it a few minutes later.

She wondered if Enid had managed to escape through a window by using lockpicks as there was no response after the first knock. Though, if the actress did escape, the young Addams would've applauded her. "Enid, I do not plan for our first agenda to be locked in a bathroom," Wednesday called out, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Just as she was contemplating to just barge in after a few minutes, the door suddenly swung open and hit her forehead. Just tolerate this Wednesday and you'll be on your merry way without your publisher dangling from your ass, nagging you every damn second.

"I'm here—!" Enid stopped after she noticed there was no one in her view, then slowly looked behind the door. "Oh God, Wednesday I'm so sorry!" The Addams massaged her forehead, feeling a mix of annoyance and slight pain. "Save it, Enid. Let us... What are you wearing?” In Lucifer’s honest name, what is she wearing.

Enid appeared to be in a "Talk Nerdy to Me" shirt, with an insipid PNG picture of a pair of glasses. Wednesday had to bite her cheek to jam down any giggle that was about to betray her sealed lips. Never her, Never Wednesday fucking Addams. "It's cute, don't you think?" Enid said, striking a slight pose with a smile. "The main character of 'A Good Girl's Guide to Murder', which I happen to play, wears this, and the directors gave it to me!" Enid chuckled, oblivious to Wednesday's internal struggle to keep every word that was flowing through her head down her throat. "Well... Yoko kind of stole it and gave it to me," Enid revealed after s prolonged silence by Wednesday's raised eyebrow.

"Spare me the details, Sinclair. Let's go," Wednesday deadpanned as she put on her coat. "Wait! Can I borrow one of your coats?" Enid requested and Wednesday stopped to look at her, raising yet another brow. "Even if it's really late, I can't risk us being photographed again. So if I borrow your jackets, they won't know it's me!" Silence filled the air as Wednesday contemplated the proposition. She rarely let anyone borrow her clothes, unless it was a corpse she wanted to bury. With a nod, which she was heavily convinced it was the devil tempting her, agreed.

Enid beamed with gratitude and skipped over to the clothes hanger to retrieve the author's coat. Meanwhile, Wednesday reached into her coat pocket, pulled out her car keys, and tossed them to Enid with a quick "Heads up." Enid instinctively caught the keys with both of her hands clasped around it, was it habit or instinct? Wednesday thought.

With a playful grin, Enid looked at Wednesday and teased, "Does the Wednesday Addams not know how to drive?" She playfully commented while putting Wednesday's coat on, looking a bit small on her. Damn her height.

Wednesday met her gaze with a cold, dead stare that could freeze the atmosphere. "Bianca once told me that I drive like a homicidal maniac who left her family to switch to a life of crime, constantly on coke, and plays with death as if it's a children’s daycare." It was true, though she was a driver, a good one at that, she just treated it as if she was handling a getaway car.

"—And so, if you wish to live another day to go to shoots and interviews, I suggest you should drive." Wednesday further added.

Without missing a beat, "Okay, copy that." Enid immediately said then turned around to open the door with Wednesday following her head, locking all doors and turning off lights as they departed.

"Hurry, Enid," Wednesday said, taking the lead and heading towards the elevator. Enid quickly followed, trailing behind. As they stood in the elevator while it closed, Enid asked, "Where are we going for this 'date'?

Wednesday's gaze remained fixed on the elevator indicator, showing the floors passing by. With a hint of mischief in her voice, she replied, "Graveyard."

Wednesday turned to look at Enid, her expression filled with curiosity. "I believe some people these days call it a picnic."

Enid's face contorted in horror, which had a slight look you can only see in horror movies when the killer finally catches the victim and slashes them in half. "And some people these days wouldn't consider interacting with the dead on their first date!" she exclaimed.

Wednesday let out a faint hum, her demeanor seemingly unfazed. "Do not worry, Enid. I've been to this graveyard with my family a couple of times. The dead never disturbed us, unfortunately." She assured, trying to ease Enid's concerns. But Enid still couldn't shake off her unease, audibly swallowing as she anxiously waited for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

The two arrived at the ground floor and walked over to the doors then exited the building and made their way to Wednesday's car, which was obviously, clashed in black with red accents followed. They fastened their seatbelts, and Enid started the car's engine, carefully driving out of the parking lot. "Where is this graveyard exactly?" Enid asked Wednesday, "Keep driving straight until I say stop." She instructed before they were met with silence once again.

The car journey continued in silence, with only the sound of the engine humming in the background. Wanting to lighten the mood, Enid made an enthusiastic suggestion, "You know, we should get matching snoods for our future dates! It'll be fun!”

Wednesday’s gaze was still fixed ahead, the idea of matching accessories didn’t appeal to her. It seemed like an unnecessary gesture that solidified their agreement in a way she found unnecessary. “I have no plans for starting a fire.” Wednesday deadpanned in her usual dead tone. And she believed that it was Enid’s signal to just stay quiet.

After a few minutes of silence then Wednesday finally signaled Enid to stop and park at the front of the graveyard. They unfastened their seatbelts and then got out of the vehicle, Enid locking the car doors. “We’re here!— Oh God, Wednesday we probably shouldn’t be here. This is really creepy.” Enid reluctantly said as she scanned the surroundings of this graveyard. It was filled with fog and eerie dead trees seemed to surround the area, with high fences and gates up front. Just how Wednesday liked it.

"Let's go, Enid," Wednesday led the way to a grave adorned with a scorpion statue, bearing the name "Nero" on the gravestone. A wilted black rose was nestled in the scorpion's tail. Wednesday took a seat in front of the grave and tenderly replaced the faded rose with a fresh one. Enid, murmuring something in a language that sounded like Greek to Wednesday, joined her at the grave. It was a surprise to discover that Enid possessed knowledge of another language. Wednesday had a solemn expression on her face as she directed her gaze toward the grave and then up at the sky.

Wednesday found solace in the concept of death. It held a certain allure, an escape from the complexities and pain of life. And Wednesday found unfamiliarity in the concept of crying, an emotion she had mastered suppressing. Even in the face of heart-wrenching circumstances that could shatter others, she refused to allow her tears to flow freely. Only on rare occasions, when it was a beloved family member being laid to rest, did she allow herself to shed a single tear. It was a testament to the strength she possessed, the ability to chain her heart and reprogram her emotions. This wall she had built occurred long ago, on a cold, snowy Halloween night.

"A family member of yours?" Enid's words pierced through Wednesday's thoughts, causing her to look at the actress that was sitting beside her. Enid looked at her with the purest face that was tinted with care and vulnerability, a crack in her stoic façade. Curse this girl. She paused, carefully choosing her words as she replied, "A dear pet of mine. In a couple of months, it will be his death anniversary." Wednesday masked the fragility in her voice, determined not to show weakness.

“I’m sorry.” Enid sighed, maybe even almost crying for Wednesday. “I’m sorry if I thought this was creepy. I didn’t know.” Wednesday looked at Enid, with the same vulnerable look the actress gave her, “It’s fine.” Enid sat up and opened her arms, offering a hug. Wednesday eyed her skeptically, silently declining the gesture. The last thing she wanted was to be wrapped in someone's embrace as if she were the one in need of comfort. If she accepted it, she would be the one in a grave sooner than later. "Still the same Wednesday Addams, I see," Enid chuckled, recognizing Wednesday's aversion to physical affection. Wednesday nodded in agreement, grateful that Enid understood her boundaries.

Enid turned her attention back to the grave, “I should get flowers for Nero too.” Wednesday bit her lip to prevent her from smiling. "There is no need," she replied, suppressing any hint of amusement. "You will probably get him something flourish or whatnot." Enid laughed, her laughter soothing irritating to Wednesday's ears. "He'll appreciate it," Enid retorted, a glimmer of warmth in her eyes.

The two sat in silence for a moment before Wednesday broke the quietness. "What do people do on dates, exactly? This seems terribly mundane," she remarked, her voice tinged with boredom. Enid adjusted her position to face Wednesday directly. "Well... people usually tell their life stories or ask questions to get to know each other," she explained, waiting for Wednesday to reciprocate the inquiry.

Wednesday nodded, waiting for Enid to ask a question. "You play the cello?" Enid asked, “I noticed you had a stand and there was an instrument case next to it.” Wednesday nodded in confirmation. "I play it occasionally, to silence unwanted thoughts," she replied. "Although, I do receive noise complaints from time to time, given that I tend to play during the late hours of the night." Enid chuckled at the thought, finding amusement in Wednesday's musical habits.

"Have you ever played an instrument, Sinclair?" She asked in return, "I used to play the piano," Enid revealed, her smile overshadowed by a fleeting trace of sadness. "But my mom eventually sold the grand piano we had at home when she wanted me to attend a boarding school." Wednesday detected the longing in Enid's expression, as Enid put her hands to her face. As if wanting it to all go away.

Wednesday stood up and requested Enid to follow her. Enid hesitated but eventually got up and asked where they were going. "I thought this was just a graveyard date!" she exclaimed, confusion evident in her voice. “I want to hear you play the piano.” Wednesday declared as they walked, with Enid being confused by her side. “Wends, I can’t pull a whole piano out of my ass,” Enid said while gesturing with her hands.

"You don’t have to. Do you know any pieces by heart, Sinclair?" Wednesday asked cryptically, retrieving a lock pick from her bag. Enid's eyes widened as she realized what Wednesday intended to do. " Yeah but— Wait, are we breaking into a store?!" she exclaimed, attempting to lower her voice when Wednesday shushed her.

"If you want to maintain your career, I suggest you don't draw attention to us," Wednesday warned, unlocking the door with ease. Inside, Enid noticed the CCTV cameras were all blocked. "Did you plan this?" she asked.

"Someone lent an extra hand," Wednesday replied, snapping her fingers. Suddenly, a mutated appendage emerged and advanced toward them. “This is thing. A member of my family.”

"Woah," Enid whispered, her eyes fixated on the unusual appendage. "Where's the rest of him?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Enid picked up the hand and greeted it as if it were a stray cat, giving it a silent greeting.

“I fear that it is one of the great Addams family mysteries I have yet to solve.” Wednesday observed Enid's lack of fear towards the mutated hand and commented, "You fear going to a graveyard, but yet you show no reaction when faced with a living, breathing mutation." Wednesday said before prepping up the piano and then grabbing another seat for her to sit on. Enid approached Wednesday, still fascinated by the hand. "I've seen some strange prosthetics in my career, this just happens to be alive," she replied with a chuckle, gently placing the hand on the piano as she glided her fingers on the keys.

“Do you want to play, Enid?” Wednesday asked.

Enid hesitated, unsure whether she should play the piano or not. The thought of drawing attention to themselves and the peculiar presence of the mutated hand made her apprehensive. "I... I don't know. People might get curious and come investigate. We'd be caught playing the piano with a literal chopped-off hand," she explained, her gaze fixed on Wednesday.

"It's already 12:11 at midnight, and an eerie piano is playing which just so happens to be next to a graveyard," Wednesday countered, determined to hear Enid play. She wondered if perhaps Enid had been possessed by one of the spirits from the cemetery. "No one would dare venture here, less they have a death wish."

Enid pondered for a moment, considering Wednesday's words. Eventually, she let out a sigh and nodded. "Alright, let's give it a try. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you," she said with a playful smirk and a wink, to which Wednesday responded with her eyes focusing on anywhere but the actress. Enid, with a heavy sigh and closed eyes, placed her hands on the piano keys and began to play a hauntingly beautiful melody, filling the silence of the night with her play.

Wednesday had always held a profound fondness for music, specifically the cello. She recalled the times when she would sit beside Lurch as he played the grand piano for the Addams family, whilst she played with her own instrument, filling the room with a melody that resonated deep within Wednesday's soul. Those were the moments when she was just at peace, without the mention of something dark.

Attending numerous concertos in the past, she was always so captivated by the haunting beauty of its sound, and even more so by the melancholic embrace of the piano. The cello held a special place in Wednesday's memories. She remembered the first time she held it in her hands, the weight of the instrument grounding her as she embraced its somber yet soul-stirring tones. The melodies that flowed from her fingertips seemed to carry the weight of her emotions.

Wednesday recognized the piece Enid was playing, it was “rue des trois frères.” It was a composition she had often accompanied with her own instrument. But now, it was Enid who breathed new life into the notes, making her own interpretation of the piece.

Wednesday noticed that Enid’s hands trembled, her touch uncertain but yet the way she played was filled with raw emotion. Each note seemed to resonate with Enid’s own feelings, a sorrowful cry out as she played throughout the intro.

Enid became more than the image she projected for the media. She wasn’t the actress everyone adored because of her pure shine of happiness. Wednesday saw beyond it, catching a glimpse of the hidden emotion she carried within.

The piece was short, one that carried an overwhelming amount of emotion when Enid played it. After a minute and a few seconds, she reached the end of the melody, but the actress remained seated, her fingers resting on the last note. Wednesday allowed a moment of silence to pass before finding her voice.

“That was…”

Wednesday’s voice trailed off, a compliment was lodged in her throat. She couldn’t find the right words to praise Enid, even if she was truly captured by the beauty of her skill in playing the piano, and how she knew the composition by heart and poured it all over the keys.

Enid turned to her with a bittersweet smile, her eyes betraying a tinge of sadness. "That was...?" Her gaze shifted to the appendage, which was signing compliments with an intensity even Wednesday couldn't match, no matter how hard she tried. And somehow, Enid understood. "Thanks, thing.” she expressed with gratitude as she fist-bumped the hand.

Wednesday was desperately searching for the perfect word to encapsulate her thoughts into one. But even as a writer, she couldn’t find the right goddamn word. “It was—”

"Hello!?" A voice yelled out of the door and both of them turned their attention towards the person shining a light at them. "What the he—”

Reacting swiftly, Wednesday reached for her concealed strap, hiding her assortment of knives. However, Enid, driven by panic, sprang to her feet, taking a nearby guitar by the neck, and whacked the guy in the head, the strings leaving a mark on his face. The guitar, which was horribly broken and cracked in half due to sheer force, slipped from her grasp as she sank to her knees. "Oh God— Oh God, I've killed a man! Wednesday, I'm going to end up in jail, and my acting career is ruined!”

Wednesday scoffed as she approached Enid, she was certainly the surprising girl, “Enid, calm down,” Wednesday reassured Enid, her voice calm and composed even with the given circumstances. Well, she was used to this situation coming up from time to time. "He'll be fine. We have to get out of here before anyone else shows up," Wednesday said urgently as she swiftly put her weapons in check.

As they started to make their way out, Wednesday kicked the body on the ground, ensuring that the intruder wasn't just playing unconscious. But at that moment, another person entered the scene, fuck.

Without hesitation, Wednesday pulled out her shuriken, her fingers expertly handling the sharp projectiles. With precision and agility, she threw them toward the man's feet, targeting the pants that were draping over his shoes. The shuriken embedded themselves into the ground, ensnaring the man's feet and preventing him from pursuing them, “You little shits!—” The man’s voice was cut off when he realized there was something stopping him from running, immediately falling to the ground with a loud thud being followed.

Seizing the opportunity, Wednesday grabbed Enid's hand, their fingers intertwining as they made a dash for an open window. They squeezed through as they landed outside. Heart pounding, Wednesday led the way, their footsteps pounding on the pavement as they ran towards the car.

"Why the hell do you have shuriken!?" Enid exclaimed, struggling to maintain her balance as Wednesday guided her forcefully towards the car. "It's a necessary weapon to have at all times," Wednesday replied, her voice firm and focused.

They reached the car, “The keys, give me the keys Enid! Before he removes the projectiles!” Enid fumbled with the keys and gave it to Wednesday. They swiftly climbed inside, the engine roaring to life as Wednesday pressed the pedal to the floor, speeding away from the scene, while Wednesday accelerates the gas even further, probably making them crash sooner or later. "Wednesday, if I don't wanna get killed by some unknown force, I absolutely do not wanna be killed due to a car crash accident!" Their hearts raced, their breaths heavy with a mix of fear and exhilaration as they left the chaos behind them.

In the rearview mirror, they could see the man chasing after them, yelling profanities. She was glad that she covered the license plate before heading to the music shop. The adrenaline slowly began to subside, leaving them with a sense of relief mixed with tension, even Thing managed to escape with them and is now chilling in the backseat. Wednesday leaned back in her seat, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That was quite an unexpected turn of events," she remarked, a touch of amusement in her voice.

Enid let out a nervous laugh, her hands gripping her hair, "Tell me about it. I never thought a literal fake date with you would involve breaking into a store to play a piano and running off with our tails behind our legs.”

Wednesday slightly smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "You can’t deny it. That was fun.”

Enid chuckled, realizing the potential material they had just gathered for their book. "Oe em gee, We have material now! Looks like the first chapter will be about the two characters breaking the law. Oh God and I have an interview tomorrow!”

"Certainly," Wednesday managed to say between heavy breaths, her adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She had never anticipated that a date could be this exhilarating. She couldn't help but hope that their situation wouldn't end up becoming another article for the world to take in, yet again.

Chapter Text

Late-Night Intrusion at Music Store: Speculation Mounts Over Two Prominent Figures, Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams as the Masked Culprits

A Stretch or A Catch?

Chapter Text

So you're sure you're not in love with Enid?"

Bianca had invited herself in after a few hours of Enid leaving Wednesday's apartment. They usually discussed matters via phone or email, but one manager, under a certain someone's management, decided to talk. Now, here they were, Wednesday and Bianca, face-to-face with Addams death glare in full effect.

"I'm glad we're finally on the same page," Wednesday retorted.

At her answer, Bianca scoffed. "Then tell her that you'll haunt her family's bloodline and curse them for a lifetime or something.” She challenged the author, normally these were one of those pathetic and unnecessary bets they would have from time to time. Wednesday typically turned them down, but her pride was at stake this time.

Wednesday smirked with confidence. "Could have been more challenging, Barclay."

And then Wednesday heard her phone ring, speak of the devil.

She picked it up, only to be greeted with a voice she knew all too well. "Hi Wends! Sorry for calling so early, but are you up for a drink at the Weathervane?"

She wanted to say the remarks that were floating in her head, but she struggled to find her voice. "Unfortunately, I am quite free today. I will make arrangements and pick you up at 5."

A giggle was heard from the other line. "Sounds great! Bye, Willa!" Enid bid her farewell before hanging up.

“Fuck.”

Wednesday found herself seated in a booth inside the Weathervane Enid had suggested they meet. No, this does not mean anything. The lack of wit and remark can Wednesday give the actress didn't necessarily mean she was experiencing romantic feelings for her. But why was she even here? Well-dressed and all.

She felt eyes boring onto her, she doesn’t know where, or who. She feared one made yet another foolish decision to stalk her again. But then a customer entered the shop, the bell ringing almost like an alarm to the Wednesday. It was Enid, in her colorful presence. Enid always seemed there whenever Wednesday had her on her mind. How on cue she was.

Perfect.

Revolting.

The blonde was skipping to her seat, that was quite far off for people to see them, with a bright grin, a grin that Wednesday finds herself sinking into. "Howdy, Willa! Sorry for being," her sentence was cut short to check her apple watch that was on her wrist, "Fiiive… minutes late." She excused herself while taking a seat, "Had to go through a full on recap with Yoko." She chuckled, while Wednesday could only stare at her, finding it difficult for herself to articulate a response.

"Why did you invite me here, Enid?" Wednesday asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Well…" Enid said, her sentence trailing off as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out something that was wrapped in black paper with a little bow on top of it, "Open it!" Enid exclaimed, her eyes brightening with a glow Wednesday only saw through a screen.

The box was placed on the table between them, Wednesday hesitated for a moment before accepting it. She recalled the day Enid brought up the idea of gift giving when they were heading to the cemetery, Wednesday found it all together unnecessary. But now, with it being presented to her as a tangible item, it felt more than unnecessary. With a sigh, she accepted the gift.

Unwrapping it, Wednesday pulled out… an accessory. A head piece, at that. She glanced at Enid, who held possibly the most biggest smile she had ever seen, before looking back at the item in her hands, eyeing it closely. It had her signature colors knitted on, she had to admit that Enid had captured her style quite well.

"Well?" Enid interrupted, her excitement noticeable. "Do you like it?" She asked eagerly.

The question made the author face the actress. Wednesday took a moment to study Enid's expression, the way anticipation existed in her raised eyebrows, and the wide, toothy grin she wore. The actress was practically vibrating with excitement. "What is it exactly?" The author askes, confusion evident in her voice.

"It's a snood, silly!" Enid exclaimed happily. "And, guess what?" She searched in her bag again, then pulled out another snood. This one was in her signature colors of various shades of pink. "I have one too! We can wear them to our dates!" The excitement in Enid's voice was near contagious as she put the snood on. They were matching. Lucifer, please just take me away.

Wednesday looked at Enid, her brows furrowed, "Oh, no. Enid, this is far too unnecessary..." Wednesday started to say, but her words trailed off as she took a moment to look at Enid. There was something about the way Enid looked at her, the way she somehow saw Enid cared for her, it touched a chord inside Wednesday.

"It’s… It is tolerable enough," Wednesday managed to choke out with a slight stutter. Her heart conflicted, how could she allow herself to be vulnerable like this, with someone she had only known for a short time? The bright smile Enid held only made it harder to resist.

Rain was drumming against the windows, and within Wednesday's head, but Enid's voice overpowered that and more. She listened to Enid's words, even when she internally told herself not to.

Wednesday's eyes were locked onto Enid's expressive ones that carried more than emotion, so different from her own void and dead gaze. The restaurant was near from closing, but Wednesday couldn't shake the feeling of… just something. Something stirring in her chest, she just felt something when staring into Enid.

But it was then she felt something other. A feeling she was familiar with. Being watched from afar.

Wednesday hadn't noticed anything peculiar from her perspective since she had chosen to be seated in the farthest booth to avoid drawing attention to herself and Enid, even if customer traffic was rather low at that time.

But she did see a familiar face at the counter, a male barista with light brown curled hair, around 5'10. His face was obscured because was busy fixing the coffee machine when Wednesday had entered.

She noticed him sparing quick glances between her and Enid, but everytime she tried to get a good look at him, he would turn his head away. It wasn't unusual for people to avoid her gaze, Wednesday's glare tend to have that effect on everyone, but this barista’s behavior towards her seemed different, it had more malicious intent and purpose than the average person she would encounter.

But Wednesday turned a blind eye to the barista, thinking him as just that type of guy. But then she heard a familiar sound— a camera shutter going off, accidentally, she could tell due to the murmured curse she had somehow picked up. She knew something was off. She glanced back at the counter and saw the same barista she had placed her suspicions on, holding a camera. Oh hell.

"Acting that scene was tiring! But also really fu—" Enid's sentence was interrupted as she noticed Wednesday wearing the snood she had given her. The wide smile Wednesday had seen when Enid gave her said snood was back, and now it was even wider.

"Oe. Em. Gee, are we going to match tonight!? Right now!?" Enid was practically bouncing with joy, and Wednesday had the feeling of having a stalker on their tail.

"Sinclair, if you do not wish to be splashed in the face with cyanide, I suggest you wear your snood, Now." Wednesday retorted while eyeing the barista, who had his back turned on them, poorly hiding the fact he was fixing his camera.

"Don't need to say it twice, Willa!" She quickly put on her snood, patting it down to get the look she was going for. It matched her outfit perfectly. "Also, cyanide? Do you also carry that every-" Enid's sentence was cut, yet again, when Wednesday took her hand and dashed to the door, exiting in a hurry before the barista could pursue them.

The freezing rain pounded relentlessly, instantly drenching their clothes and a chill transferring between their blood despite the layers they wore.

"WEDNESDAY! What the hell!? Oh gosh, it's so cold!" Enid gasped out, her breathe becoming ragged as she stumbled, trying to keep up with Wednesday's hurried pace while trying not to slip.

Without a word uttered, Wednesday dragged them both into a narrow, dark alleyway with a roof on top. The rain still seeped through the cracks but it was fine.

Enid leaned against the brick wall, her hand going to her knees, her other hand clutching her chest tightly, wheezing and coughing while she desperately tried to regain her breathe. Wednesday pressed against the opposite wall, holding herself while she tried to get a hold of the situation.

"Wednesday— Wednesday, why!?" Enid managed to choke out while hyperventilating. She steadied her breathe and closed her eyes until she found her composure. "Why did you drag us here? What's happening?"

"Paparazzi." Wednesday claimed, "Okay, but that doesn't mean we have to do all of this. We could've just gone outside," Enid said, her voice filled with concern.

"Enid, I know this guy—" Wednesday's words were cut off by a sudden gunshot, followed by thunder and the shout of a name just outside of their hiding spot.

"TYLER! What the fuck did I tell you about using that camera properly!? Here, take this gun.” A man screamed, presumably Tyler's accomplice. Wednesday didn't recognize the voice, and it only added to the tension.

"Wednesday, what was that and who is this guy!?" Enid whimpered when she heard the sound of thunder, her concern turned to fear

"His name is Tyler Galpin. He's... a stalker of mine. But now, it looks like he got downgraded to a paparazzi and a barista," Wednesday said, her expression serious as her words.

Wednesday looked at Enid, her face more paler than hers. "You didn't tell me you have a stalker!?" she exclaimed in a whispered scream.

"I thought you deal with stalkers often due to your celebrity image?" Wednesday replied, not really a question but a confirmation.

"Yeah, but usually they don't carry firearms whenever they see me!?" Enid's voice was a mix of fear and frustration, her eyes widening when she heard another loose gunshot in the distance.

Wednesday's grip tightened on Enid's hand and dragged them further down the alleyway. She cursed herself for not having her usual arsenal with her when she needed them the most. All she had was a concealed dagger in her coat, which wasn’t even sharp to begin with. Useless.

Enid, still trying to catch her breath, her heartbeat going through Wednesday’s head, "Can't we just report it to the police—"

"No," Wednesday responded firmly, her voice slightly breaking with emotion. "The last time I reported him to the police, Thing almost got killed. My hand’s would’ve been tainted with his blood" She opened up, "I would rather it be a stranger's blood than the burden of a loved one," Wednesday admitted, her voice heavy with regret. She hated that she had to expose such vulnerable parts of her memories to Enid, who already had tears welling up in her eyes.

Enid squeezed Wednesday's hand, her eyes swelling with sadness and understanding, as if telling her as if it’s going to be alright. "Okay. Okay, just— just tell me what to do to get rid of this guy." her voice steady despite the situation.

"His camera. We need to steal it, and destroy the hell out of it." Her choice of words were out of character, her mind was running short out of ideas due to the overwhelming mix of sounds she was experiencing.

Enid nodded, her eyes wide still out of fear. "Okay, but how? He's out there with a gun!"

"A spare hand can help," Wednesday snapped both of her fingers, and to Enid's surprise, Thing emerged from one of the dumpsters nearby.

"Does he just teleport out of thin air or what..." Enid's voice was filled with puzzlement as she watched Thing jump to Wednesday's shoulder.

What's up with the matching hoods? Thing signed, if it had a face, it would have been wiggling its eyebrows. Which would’ve made Wednesday pluck them out entirely in one sitting.

"Another sign about this accessory, and I will be willing to chip all of your nails together," Wednesday responded with a cold tone. "I need you to distract Tyler. Yes, he's after us again." If Thing had a mouth, it would have sighed in frustration.

"Can Thing really handle that Tyler guy?" Enid asked, her concern growing more and more.

"He is more capable than he looks. I assure you of it,” Wednesday replied, a hint of pride in her voice. And with that, Enid nodded, Wednesday’s judgement assured her.

"We will split up," Wednesday began, her mind already forming the plan. "I will be the one who will knock him unconscious. Thing will keep him distracted, and you Sinclair, will grab his god-forsaken camera," The scenario already played out vividly in her head.

"Is violence always the go-to response with you?" Enid said, with a smirk on her face, trying to lighten the mood. But Wednesday kept a serious expression and nodded.

Enid and Thing, somehow, nodded in agreement as well, their silent gestures speaking volumes. With their plan set, Thing ventured off to search the area for Tyler.

Wednesday couldn't walk away. She tried to, but when she glanced back, she noticed Enid tugging at her sleeve. She looked at her arm, then at Enid. Fuckfuckfuckwhatishappening. Rain soaked her blonde hair, almost turning it silver. Her eyes held the most caring of intentions, almost as if they begged Wednesday not to venture into danger. The young Addams directed her eyes to Enid's lips which were apart, but she couldn't hear anything from them.

Wednesday had always dismissed the notion of romantic scenes from books and movies, ones where time stood still and music played while the two love interests looked at each other. Obviously, outcomes like those don't manifest in real life. Yet, at this moment, she felt it happening on her own. With someone. Someone who she had only met. Someone who Wednesday already opened up to dearly.

The only difference was that there was no music. Time didn't stop, apart from her heart. There were no special effects, nor did everything stopped in its path. Time continued, rain poured. Her heartbeat, was more understood and heard than ever. She hated it. Her heart hated it. But she would somehow endure it.

She didn't know why she was feeling this. Or what was she feeling. It was all too new, all too confusing. All too overwhelming.

"Be careful, Wednesday,"Enid said, her eyes reflecting more vulnerability than Wednesday could see. "Please."

Wednesday blinked in response, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. Silence was the only message she could deliver at that moment. And yet, after a few seconds, "I'll be careful, Enid." She nodded, her voice making it sound like a promise. With that, they split up, waiting for Thing to distract Tyler.

Tyler was there. Camera in hand, armed with a gun strapped near his belt, and a flashlight in his freehand. Foolish. Everyone knows people should conceal their firearms when stalking someone, or take the offense and have it unsheathed.

Tyler approached a dark alleyway, and Wednesday was right behind him. Her senses were on alert as she readied her dagger out from her coat, rusted, but still would've made damage. But then a stray rock went flying towards his head, it was Thing.

He immediately turned to where the rock came from, only to see a mutilated hand flipping him off amidst the rain. Isn’t that a wonderful sight for an armed man to see. Wednesday had to give it to Thing, it was a humorous tactic of distraction. "Oh shit!—" Tyler stumbled back in shock, releasing his grip on the camera in the process and taking out his gun, firing loose gunshots at the appendage.

Trying to seize the opportunity, Wednesday was lifting up her dagger, point down to his head, already anticipating his blood splattering against the wet ground and against her blade. But she saw Enid in the corner of her eye, making a big X with her arms. Wednesday rolled her eyes and lowered her dagger. No fun, at all.

Enid immediately dashed into scene, “Aaalley-oop!” She exclaimed while scooping up the camera, gripping the strap, and bashing it into Tyler’s head. Even Wednesday flinched at her decision, her heart almost exploding. "I was the one who will knock him out, Sinclair.” Wednesday said, venom laced in her tone. Enid grabbed her hand in the process, "Whatever, we dont have time for that discussion! C’mon!"

"Oh God no, my outfit is so wet!" Enid exclaimed with laughter running through her.

“Is that your only concern!?" Wednesday's voice turned hoarse as they ran towards the nearest bus stop, her voice coming to a scream.

Taking a seat, they both exhaled and caught their breath.

"This is going to be chapter 2 on our book, isn't it?" Enid laughed, it went out as a joke but, Wednesday considered the idea. Even if it wasn't a date, it was rather an improptu one at that, it was still material.

Enid held up the camera, inspecting it in her hands and winced, feeling slightly bad for it.

"Oooh… This is busted," she said, examining the damage.

"Yes, who knew bashing it through someone's skull will deal that much damage," Wednesday sarcastically remarked, taking the camera to inspect it too. It wasn't an expensive one, it was an ordinary camera. But it made their public image be a living hell.

Enid turned to face Wednesday, wearing a big smile despite the recent situation with a stalker who was also a shooter. "I heard violence was always the right answer from a dark and kooky girl."

Wednesday looked at Enid in return.

Wednesday always looked at her eyes first. It was everything to her. It was everything that outshined every feature Enid possessed. It held comfort. It made Wednesday feel loved.

Oh

Oh.

Love.

That was it.

Wednesday Addams had fallen in love with Enid Sinclair.

And Wednesday allowed herself to be.

Shit, Bianca was right. She was in love. Smitten, even.

Wednesday glanced down at Enid's lips for a brief moment then quickly looked back into Enid's eyes, unsure of what to say or do. It was late at night. There was a street light near by, casting a soft glow on their faces. Illuminating every feature Enid had.

But then the world turned to a blur. It twisted into a chaotic mess of colors and static. The walls around seemed to close in, the world was shrinking. Wednesday was drowning, she couldn't do anything about it. Every sound, every breath, every touch, every word, was suddenly overwhelming. This wasn't her. She can't be in love. It was terrifying.

Wednesday felt a pair of arms wrap around her. The world turned back into its form. But it was so much brighter than it was before.

"Oh— Oh, sorry! I forgot you aren’t that into touch," Enid softly apologized and immediately withdrew her arms from Wednesday and held a brief surrender position.

Wednesday still looked, confused. Contradicted. But yet, she welcomed it.

"No, it’s fine." If it’s with you.

Chapter Text

Enid woke up feeling great!

Somewhat.

Her body was cold, and her throat was dry. But luckily, she had all her memories intact this time. She looked out the window and the rain from the previous night was still present, even the feeling of the cold rain was.

But yet, she wasn’t feeling sick, which was a relief! Checking her phone, to her surprise, there wasn’t anything alarming. No articles that were out of the ordinary, the normal good-morning greetings from Yoko, and still no updates for her shoots. It seemed like it was a peaceful day.

OMG, finally!

With excitement, Enid immediately got out of her bed, opened Spotify to play her dance playlist, and skipped to her kitchen. She was humming to one of the shuffled songs, slightly dancing to the beat, while preparing whatever breakfast she found in her fridge.

In the midst of, horribly, trying to flip her pancakes, she heard her phone ringing from the counter. She lowered the heat on the stove, spatula still in hand, and went over to her phone; it was an unknown number.

Enid hesitated for a moment. Wondering if it could be one of those prank callers or wrong numbers. But she picked up regardless of the thought.

"Hi! This is Enid Sinclair, who is this?" She asked cheerfully while having her phone tucked in her ear, her shoulder supporting it, and going back to cooking her breakfast.

"A cheerful mood for such a gloomy day, Sinclair. No wonder Addams likes you." A voice was heard from the line.

She was cheerful, it was a gloomy day because of the rain, it was just so peaceful she couldn’t help but be cheerful. But a certain mention of a name made her heart melt and flutter at the same time.

"Addams? Wednesday Addams?" Enid said, her voice filled with curiosity.

A chuckle was heard from the other, "I’m her manager, Bianca Barclay. Might’ve heard of my name from your manager, Yoko Tanaka."

"Oh— Oh! Hey Bianca! Why’re you calling me? Oh my God, did Wednesday get arrested and we need to bail her out!?" Enid exclaimed, still trying to flip her pancakes by gripping the handle and shuffling the pan.

"No, but she’d wish," Bianca scoffed, Enid heard her voice being lowered followed by the groan in the room, "Your Addams is taking a sick day, she’s been saying 'fetch Enid, get Enid,' every second. Care to take care of her? I think it’s clear she doesn’t want me taking care of her."

That definitely wasn’t the message she was expecting while Shake It Off by Taylor Swift was playing in the background.

Enid’s mouth fell to an ‘O’ while the pancake she half-assed flipped ended up flying on the air, hitting the counter and going to her feet.

"γαμημένη κόλαση!” "(fucking hell!)

So here she was. Standing in front of the very door of the possible love of her life, holding a plastic bag containing all the possible medication Enid can find at the nearest Pharmacy and soup she made in a rush this morning.

If you asked little Enid where she wanted to be in the future, this wasn’t the future she had in mind.

But God, does her heart take big and little leaps when being near Wednesday.

She knocked on the door and entered the room after some seconds of no response. She was expecting a burned-out and sick Wednesday Addams to greet her from the front but she was greeted by.. no one.

Enid knocked on the door again while stepping inside the apartment and to the living room while calling out the author's name, "Wiiilllaaaa!" She yelled out, putting the plastic bag on the coffee table. Looks like Bianca already left even before Enid arrived. "Willa!" She called out, again.

There was still no response.

She went over to Wednesday’s room, whose door was opened slightly. Enid knocked on it, peeking through the cracks. And… Oh god.

Wednesday was there, sure, but it looked like her mind wasn’t physically there. Her upside-down body draped over the bed, her head hanging down with her hands over her face, looking like she was massaging her eyes out of pain.

"Wednesday! Are you okay!?" Enid rushed to her, picking her up in a head-first, bridal style, and carefully positioned her on the bed. Wednesday still looked like a goddess in Enid's eyes, but her tiredness was evident.

"Enid! You’re here. Did that god-awful manager of mine say something? Did she? I heard her say my name, was it even you on the phone? Why are you even here? Don’t tell me that mad woman told you that I am experiencing the blues, because I’m not! I am quite fine and feeling… somehow… Ridiculous isn’t it?" Wednesday’s pitch was higher than her usual voice. And she was smiling.

Smiling. Wednesday. Smiling. Those two words shouldn’t be together if there is no disturbing subject involved!?

This all goes against the laws of life itself!

Wednesday was smiling.

Wednesday was talking more than she usually did, lack of wit and remarks.

Wednesday was more cuter than the Wednesday Enid knew.

Most importantly…

Wednesday has dimples.

To everyone, I apologize for the Enid Sinclair I will be after this.

Enid, doing her dang good best to stay calm, sat next to Wednesday. It took all her willpower to not poke Wednesday's cheeks to make sure the dimples were real and not a figment of her imagination. 

"Okay, first of all, Bianca did call me, aaanddd... she told me you weren't feeling so well." She gave a slight smile. "So, I'm here to take care of you—No, no, put down the knife." Enid gently tapped the knife's point, making a frustrated Wednesday to lower it and put it back.

"I don't need your care, Eni— Achoo!" A sneeze escaped Wednesday, followed by very forceful and painful wet coughs.

"Wednesday! You're gonna sneeze out your organs if you keep that up." Enid hurriedly grabbed the box of tissues from Wednesday's bedside table and handed it to her, who looked more paler than usual.

"As I said, I don’t need your care, Enid. I’m perfectly fine, and I can take care of myself!” Wednesday declared while standing up, lifting her arms up and then bringing them back down to accentuate her point. She then slowly walked over to her desk.

Enid immediately stood up and grabbed her wrist, "Where are you going, Addams?"

"Looks like you’re the sick one, Sinclair. I’m obviously going to my desk to write our book." Wednesday said, her voice nasally as ever.

Goddamit, Wednesday knew Enid was weak when she refers to the book as theirs!

"Okay— No, I’m going to be a good friend and a co-writer and tell you to stay in bed!" She demanded and yanked Wednesday to her.

Enid stumbled, landing back first on the bed and Wednesday immediately followed suit on top of her.

Wrong position, wrong fucking position Enid! Abort, Abort!

But Enid froze, she felt her heart race as she locked eyes with Wednesday who looked back with eyes half-lidded, every feature she had from freckles to her eyelashes was visible to Enid.

Enid, her mind lost somewhere else in the clouds, dropped her eyes to the girl's lips while Wednesday leaned in closer, her eyes slowly blinking, her breath trailing against Enid’s neck. Enid felt her heart was going to explode as Wednesday inched in closer, Oh god— Oh god—!

And then Wednesday fell asleep. Beside and on top of Enid.

Of course.

After a little while of trying to get out of Wednesday’s grasp, she decided to clean her apartment for a bit. Though, it was almost spotless and neat it didn’t have to be. But Enid did learn more about Wednesday a thing or two while snooping around her apartment.

Mental Notes in the Mind of Enid Sinclair:

1. Wednesday loves her family, a little more than she can admit.

Most of the picture frames in her apartment, excluding the mildly disturbing ones, are filled with pictures of her family on different occasions. She had pictures of her and her brother, mother, and father all bunched up together on a sofa. Even more so with the Day of the Dead and Halloween!

Enid noticed, if Wednesday doesn’t talk about anything scary, she talks about her family a lot. It’s a pride she held in the title of an Addams, but mostly it’s just her berating them and how ‘nauseously inducing’ her mother and father were, (Wednesday’s words, not mine! I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Addams are nice parents!) but when you take a look at her apartment, she adores them all deeply even if she didn’t want to admit it. Heck, she even has a cat pillow for Thing.

Which is pretty sweet of her. It makes me fall in love with Wednesday even more.

2. Wednesday has a deep passion for music.

This was clear already when Wednesday asked Enid to play the piano. But it was even more clear when she saw music sheets and books laying near Wednesday’s Cello, she didn’t recognize any of them but they were pretty… experty? was that the word?

She was immediately taken back when she was playing the piano for Wednesday. Enid would be lying if she said she didn’t take small glances to look if Wednesday was enjoying her piece.

She felt her heart playing a symphony of its own when she saw Wednesday’s eyes being captured in her music. The music she was playing. It gave Enid a little hope they’ll be more than what they are now.

3. Wednesday kept the things Enid gave.

Okay, it’s not much but it meant everything to Enid!

She noticed that all fanmail, fanart, whatever that was given by her fans were all kept in a box, or just put away in her closet. Don’t get Enid wrong, they were all in neat condition and perfectly kept; it was as if it was freshly sent. She took care of them very well. But for Enid… They were all on display.

Enid usually gifts Wednesday bracelets, posters, and plushies, in the very little time they have met. She thought that she just discarded them or gave them away to somebody, or even sold it since that was so Wednesday-like.

But here they were. On display for everyone to see. It wasn’t like they were scattered everywhere, but they were placed in specific areas at her apartment, all in neat condition.

Sure, the posters weren’t hung up (Given because Enid gave the most sparkly posters… Like the Barbie movie poster she and Yoko stole.) But they were beside her Cello case, it was as if it was another prized possession of hers. And the bracelets have their own little hanger in every room. The kitchen, her bathroom, her closet, and her bedroom. And the plushies… Okay, all the plushies were discarded or all missing another part of their cotton body— But, but! It was still a point for Enid’s delusional mind.

She noticed everything about Wednesday, even when she didn’t know of it.

Enid's notes can go on, and on until a sudden groan and a creaking door made her flinch. She turned around to find Wednesday walking to the kitchen.

"You feeling good now, Willa?" Enid skipped to Wednesday who was preparing coffee.

Wednesday looked at Enid with the most serious face she can put up while clearly being sick, "Do I look good to you?" She groaned while reaching for a cup.

Enid took one look at Wednesday for her expression to drop, "Whoa, whoa, hey. You're not supposed to be drinking coffee when you're sick!" Enid immediately snatched the mug away and turned off the coffee machine.

Rummaging through the cabinets, she pulled out the medicine she had brought and presented it to Wednesday. "You're supposed to drink this," She waved her hand around it as if she was advertising a product.

Wednesday stared at the bottle and rolled her eyes, "I'd rather wait for hell to freeze over." She grabbed the mug again and started pouring hot water into it.

It was now Enid's turn to wear a serious expression, "I know you have this ‘I can do everything myself and I don’t need anyone's help’ type of thing going on, Wends, but you’re clearly sick." She frowned, "Let me take care of you."

"Your care is unnecessary. I've brought this upon myself, and I will be putting up with it," Wednesday managed to say after pouring the finished coffee into her mug.

Enid remained persistent and immediately snatched the mug out of Wednesday’s hand, moving in awfully close to her.

"Look, Wednesday, I don’t know if you’d rather die than ask for help, but I would rather get hit by a thousand hammers than let you neglect yourself!"

Enid’s hands were clasped onto Wednesday’s shoulders, leaving only mere centimeters between them. Their noses almost touching, Enid could see every freckle and detail there is to Wednesday’s eyes.

Wednesday tried to avert her gaze, but Enid softened her grip and her voice. "Let me take care of you, Wednesday. Just this once."

There was a pause to Wednesday, and Enid noticed her eyes soften up. Not much, but there was a light in between the void of her eyes.

Finally, she sighed and stepped back. "You’re infuriatingly stubborn and persistent, are you aware of it?" She was too sick to fight the smile coming out of her face.

There will never be a time when I’m not in love with you.

Enid smiled back, "Comes with the Enid Sinclair package deal you unwillingly signed!"

Wednesday cracked another smile, and Enid couldn’t stop smiling herself. "Just this once, Sinclair. Another and you’ll be missing a part of your limbs."

Enid chuckled, "Alright, now drink a tablespoon of this medicine I brought."

"No."

"Wednesday Addams."

Wednesday eyed her suspiciously, before rolling her eyes yet again and taking the medicine.

Chapter Text

“Enid… Enid, I hardly think you being on top of me will make me submit to you.”

“Well, you will, if you would just stop moving for a damn minute!”

Vulnerable, exposed, and helpless.

Those were the exact words Wednesday would describe herself. Enid's legs firmly held her in place, leaving her powerless and unable to move. Enid's freehand suspended both of Wednesday's wrists in the air, Wednesday had no choice but to meet Enid's gaze.

"Enid... Enid, I swear to the devils in hell, if you put one more pink shade in my eyes, I'll drag you down there with me!" Wednesday exclaimed, almost breaking free out of Enid's grasp if not for the actress' surprising strength.

"Wednesday— Wednesday, please, just stay still!" Enid urged, moving closer to Wednesday's face. "Okay, the medicine I brought may be expired, but it's not my fault you're too stubborn to wear some pinkish makeup so we can go to the pharmacy unnoticed!"

Wednesday could only glare at her in response, and the makeup Enid roughly added on her wasn’t getting any better by the minute.

“But how is being on top of me going to help you with that process!?” Wednesday yelled, finally breaking out of Enid’s grasp and sitting up, almost bumping into Enid’s head.

She reached for the open cabinet, grabbed dozens of makeup remover wipes, and swiftly wiped it off her face. "Enid, let's just go as ourselves and keep a low profile, for the love of God."

"You think I wouldn't have thought of that?" Enid sarcastically remarked, "People will look at us, wearing sunglasses and a bajillion layers of clothing, and think, 'Yeah, that's just an ordinary human citizen, and definitely not a famous person!'"

Wednesday looked at her, almost bewildered by Enid's response. "You know what? For once, you've outsmarted me."

"Perks of having a clear mind and not being sick," Enid giggled, returning to her giddy self. "But if you don't want to wear makeup, we can just go on the low as you said."

Wednesday thought, thought long and heard in her state, but then came up with a solution, "Why don't you just order the medicine to my apartment? It's easy and efficient."

She saw Enid's face drop, as well as her shoulders, almost trying to come up with a solution or a comeback to Wednesday, "Well, it's not every day I get to go out in public with Wednesday Addams without it being, like, in the middle of the night," she admitted.

Wednesday thought for a while, realizing that getting some fresh air, even in the pouring rain, might do her some good. "Fine. Get changed, Sinclair," she said as she sat up and headed to her wardrobe.

Enid commented, "Wednesday, I didn't bring any clothes. Can't I just wear what I have on now?" She approached Wednesday, who was busy rummaging through her wardrobe.

Not a second later, Wednesday handed Enid a pair of matching black and white outfits for both of them. "Oh. My. God," Enid exclaimed, interrupted by her surprise, "Are you trying to make us matc—"

“Shut it, Enid.”

“Everything good to go, boss.”

Enid pointed towards the pharmacy, signaling with her hand, while swiftly moving around Wednesday, who was trying to gather her thoughts even with the sound of the rain and the bustling crowd of cars behind her.

"Enid, can you please stop moving like you are in some action spy movie?" Wednesday complained, her voice sounding hoarse as she let out a slight groan.

“So you do watch action spy movies,” Wednesday glared at her, hoping it would work on Enid for her to shut up, but it didn’t. Enid was immune, she was immune to everything Wednesday had to throw her. But Wednesday herself wasn’t. She was vulnerable against Enid. She hated how she loved it.

They were wearing the same black and white outfits, their hair styled differently from their usual signature looks, Enid with her hair in a ponytail, and Wednesday with her hair down. They also had hats for good measure. It would have been simpler if Wednesday still had her wigs, but she lost them in some... incident. And so, Enid didn't quite look like the usual Enid, and Wednesday didn't look like her usual self either. For some odd reason.

In the aisle, Wednesday steered the cart while Enid scanned the various options.

"Ibuprofen, definitely," Enid said, tossing a pack into the cart. "Throat lozenges..." She read the package and turned to Wednesday, teasingly using a different name, "Hey, Willa, you need throat lozenges?"

"I do no—" Wednesday's sentence was interrupted by a sneeze followed by several painful coughs. "Not. I do not," she managed to respond with a hoarse voice, giving Enid the answers she needed.

"Looks like your throat will do the talking," Enid playfully remarked, putting the lozenges in the cart. But she quickly realized her mistake and backtracked, "Oh God, nevermind, forget what I just said!" Wednesday was confused, wondering what was so wrong with Enid's comment.

They continued shopping for a while, even letting Enid buy her own stuff to restock her supplies. As they reached the cashier, they were surprised to see that it wasn't a slow day at the pharmacy. Dozens of customers were roaming around, making Wednesday reconsider her decision to come here.

At the checkout, Enid seemed to be practically bouncing with happiness, while Wednesday remained as still as a statue beside her. Same outfits, different energy, as one would say. One would be Enid.

That was until, a kid bump into Enid, making her hat fall off. Wednesday didn’t see it in time, god she wish she had, and Enid helped the kid up from the floor and the lollipop he was holding.

"Be careful there! Here's your—" Enid started to say.

"Thank… Thank you," the kid's sentence trailed off as he glanced at the TV screen displayed on the counter.

He looked back at Enid, and his eyes widened with recognition. "Are… Are you that girl on the TV?" the kid asked, pointing to the screen and leaving the question hanging in the air.

Not even a damn minute later, everyone in the store was recording them, and picturing them together. Wednesday mentally face-palmed herself, wanting to disappear completely from the world.

Enid picked herself up and stayed beside Wednesday with her head down.

“…You should’ve worn the makeup—”

“Shut it, Sinclair.”

Chapter Text

Famous Star, Enid Sinclair, and Famous Author, Wednesday Addams, Caught Standing Together Hand-in-Hand Buying Medicine At A Local Pharmacy:

Just a Coincidence or Something More!?

The internet is buzzing like wildfire after the numerous amounts of viral videos and photos that have swarmed over the internet of the two figures, Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams, who have been sighted together at a local pharmacy. Just like an old married couple, one would say.

But prior to this, fans have already speculated that Sinclair and Addams have been seeing each other on a low profile ever since Enid Sinclair published her new book featuring very similar characteristics of the both of them in the main love interests.

While the pair has yet to make any official statements regarding their relationship, Fans today, love the idea of them being together. Going as far as creating names for the alleged couple. Not even seconds after the breakthrough, people have already thought of names for their particular relationship. One has quickly emerged as the go-to nickname, Wenclair.

"Wenclair!? Oh my God, this is gold!"

Enid could hear the laughter echoing in her mind, and it was driving her crazy!

"Yoko, oh my gooood! This is such a disaster!" Enid yelled. It was the day after yesterday's hectic events and she was chilling from the comfort of her own home and talking to Yoko over the phone. Nope, not even comfy anymore, Wednesday might hate her forever!

"Thought you’d be excited about this! And, everyone is so supportive, you guys should be an actual couple at this point," Yoko said, and she was right. Everyone was supportive. But Wednesday wasn’t everyone, she was everything to Enid, but she wasn’t everyone.

"Wednesday hates me! Like, hate, hates me!" Enid cried, feeling close to a break down.

Yoko asked, "Yeah? How so?"

"I told you, Yoko!" Enid started, "After that whole fiasco of thousands of people storming us, we bucked to some rando’s Uber and sat in silence. For the whole ride!" She explained.

"Yeah, but isn’t that how the Addams is? You know, quiet and mysterious." Yoko countered, and Enid laughed. Thinking about how Wednesday treated… her special. In a way.

"Usually we would have a conversation about our book, but," She paused, letting out a little sigh, "Plain silence, even the way back to her apartment, and when we got there, Wednesday ordered me to leave."

"Oooh… Yikes." Yoko hissed at the phone, and Enid was immediately bummed out. Like super!

"…Well, aside from that. How’s you guys’ book doing?" Her manager asked, trying to distract Enid from the news.

"Great, actually," Enid spoke, she wanted to sound energetic but it all just drowned out. "Nearing the final chapter."

"Final chapter? Didn’t you guys go on like 2 to 3 dates?"

"We’ve been actually going out more often in the past few weeks, and it’s just a draft. But looks like that will end soon. Without me," Enid sighed, kind of dramatic of her from an outsider's standpoint, but this was like realizing her favorite KPOP band will disband soon.

Yoko encouraged her, "Oh girl, stop that woe-is-me thing. You should make it up to her while you can. Or..." Yoko trailed off, and Enid was kinda curious about what kind of absurd idea will her manager go on again.

"Or, you could confess your 'undying love!' to Wednesday Addams. To make those chapters more authentic," Yoko suggested with a mischievous tone. But God, that was possibly the most kind-of-not-absurd idea she had EVER heard from Yoko!

Enid shot up and started to run over to her wardrobe, literally beaming with brightness and expectations. Alright! She’s going to go down to Wednesday’s apartment, say sorry, and probably confess her love, and they will be happily ever after frolicking in paradise and writing their silly lovey-dovey adventures together!

Very, and heavily unrealistic and possibly unhealthy expectation, but she will surely confess.

Surely.

1. Make her a playlist.

Okay, not too over-the-top colored outfit, standing over the love of her life’s apartment ready to knock and have her playlist set ready.

Enid was the most romantic person on earth, she could guarantee that, but actually doing it in real life? You would never catch her doing so.

So, she turned to, goddamn, Wikihow on how to confess. Romantic & Unique Ways to Ask a Girl to Be Your Girlfriend. Yes, just the perfect website she could go to in order to swoon a very scary girl who probably hates her more than anything in the world.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Hoping Wednesday would just greet Enid by the door not sick and perfectly healthy.

One thing about Enid is that when it comes to these situations, she plays the most subtle option there is in the book. Never straightforward, and just drop hints like its random bombs planted on the ground.

Her heart literally took off when she heard a lock on the door, "Intend to interrogate me further and I’ll have your fucking hea—"

"Enid."

Enid heard her tone change. It was soft, and welcoming.

"Wednesday! You look better now."

Enid felt the sudden grip on her shirt, dragging her inside and her back colliding with the wall as Wednesday locked the door. Her heart raced as she processed what the hell was going on.

"What are you doing here, Enid?" Wednesday's voice was firm, cutting through the air.

Enid stumbled over her words, her apology being a big ol' mess than the one she intended. "I—I just have to say I'm sorry. I should've delivered the medicine instead. I really, really get it if you hate me! I get it, but I'm still so sorry. Legitimately sorry. I just—"

"Enid, you're rambling again," Wednesday interrupted, her tone softer but still commanding. There was a brief silence that hung between them.

"I don't... hate you, per se," Wednesday began, her words surprising Enid. "You're one of the few people I tolerate. I was merely overwhelmed. Weak, I am aware."

Enid's smile returned, a small one, but it had that nice Enid Sinclair happiness to it. "No, it's normal."

She took a deep breath and a little support from the voice living inside her mind. "I— I had a playlist set up for the whole forgiving thing. I didn’t know it’d be this fast, but I wouldn’t want a playlist to go to waste!"

"Can I go in?" Enid asked, her voice a mix of nervousness and hope.

Wednesday's response was subtle yet inviting, a gesture with her hand that spoke volumes. Enid stepped inside, the atmosphere shifting as the door closed behind her.

"Sinclair, I've already endured the torturous step of your so-called music taste. I beg of you, do not subject me to another round." Wednesday was already in her kitchen, preparing two coffee for the both of them

"Oh, come on, Willa! It isn't that bad, I promise," Enid said, almost pleadingly. "It's not just NewJeans or Itzy, or Taylor Swift, pinky swear!"

"Fine," Wednesday reluctantly agreed, her cold demeanor softening just a touch. Enid beamed and eagerly opened her Spotify playlist, titled "Enid's Sinclair playlist to successfully woo the hot author!" She desperately hopes the songs could live up to the bold name, if not then that is extremely embarrassing!

The first chords of "Yellow Flowers" by Alfie Templeman filled the room, and Enid's heart raced. This song had played in her mind during her journey to Wednesday's apartment, a soundtrack to the scenario she had planned out. Okay, things were a little too fast with the apology thing, but all that matters is she can play this at maximum volume, right there on top of Wednesday's coffee table.

After all. . .

The lyrics flowed seamlessly, and Enid's eyes shifted to Wednesday, silently hoping she'd catch the underlying message. Wednesday was brilliant, if she chose to be a detective, she would no doubt be the highest-ranked of all. But when it came to Enid's more subtle attempts to convey her romantic feelings, she remained oblivious. Enid doesn’t know if she does it on purpose, or if she wasn’t the smartest when it comes to love.

The world ain't small. . .

Enid mused, her gaze lingering on Wednesday. They had a unique bond, formed by the little things they shared. It was in remembering each other's preferences, recognizing the smallest of features, and Enid even attempting to type 'I love you, Wednesday' onto a document in front of her. The response had been silence, it always had been.

But I’ll still give you a lot of love. . .

Enid longed for Wednesday to see what was right in front of her, to embrace the tenderness that Enid wanted to show, every day and night.

Enid's daze was interrupted by the sound of a cup being placed beside her phone—it was Wednesday. As she settled next to Enid, her mere presence sent ripples through Enid's heart. Outside, the rain had begun to fall softly which harmonized with the music still playing in the background.

After all. . .

"You have... nice music taste, if excluding the immense amounts of headache-inducing songs," Wednesday remarked, taking a sip from her own mug.

We're bound to fall. . .

"You see? You shouldn't underestimate me, Wends!" Enid retorted, a playful glint in her eyes as she held her own cup and blew on the steam.

So give me all your love. . .

"I apologize if I acted harshly the other day." Enid's heart swelled as Wednesday's tone shifted slightly.

I've been gone for such a long time. . .

A smirk formed on Enid's lips as she responded, "Wednesday Addams? Apologizing? In what world am I living in!?"

Wouldn't blame you if you left me. . .

"If you keep that up, I will certainly transport you to another universe where you are unable to speak," Wednesday countered, her deadpan tone maintaining a sense of familiarity between them.

I've been gone for such a long time. . .

Enid couldn't help but giggle, realizing that despite everything, Wednesday was still unmistakably herself. That was the beauty of Wednesday Addams—she remained unapologetically true to who she was, and Enid would never wish for her to change. The song neared its end, and Enid's heart raced. It was now or never. Alright, you can do it, Enid!

Wouldn’t blame you if you left me. . .

Enid's voice wavered slightly as she looked into Wednesday's eyes, her own heart laid bare. "Wednesday, I really, really like y-"

A phone disrupted them. A phone. Isn’t that the most Romcom-esque scenario she has ever been in?

It wasn’t hers, it was Wednesdays. Weirdly enough, she released a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Wednesday stood up, gestured for Enid to wait, and went to a secluded corner.

The playlist shuffled to the next song, Rhythm of the Rain by The Cascades. Wednesday revealed on a previous date The Cascades were a favorite of Wednesday, surprisingly, and it was Enid’s favorite too. It's the reason why she even added it in the first place. It’s a shame they couldn’t listen to it together.

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain . . . 

Enid could still hear Wednesday’s voice. It was the only sound that mattered to her.

Telling me just what a fool I’ve been . . .

She was talking to somebody, a man. She felt her heart sinking by the second, a guttering feeling she always wished to escape. Wednesday had plans to meet up with the guy, despite Enid's presence in her home. It seemed urgent, so Enid should just let it go.

I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain . . .

Wednesday ended the call and approached Enid. "I apologize, Enid. This will have to be cut short. I have to meet up with... someone," she explained, her voice tinged with regret. "You may stay here if you like."

And let me be alone again . . .

Enid can only nod. And Wednesday left abruptly. The song continued to play, and disappointment filled the atmosphere instead of the music she and Wednesday loved.

Chapter Text

Okay, the whole music playlist thing didn’t work in Enid’s favor, very embarrassing and Enid had to delete the playlist and cry until she fell asleep, but this one will definitely work!

2. Say it with a Scavenger Hunt

This seemed to be the most Wednesday Addams-like confession she saw in the article. If she failed this attempt, then there is probably no way for Enid to confess to Wednesday and she would die without ever expressing her love for the girl.

Of course, she could just be straightforward and say it like a normal person, but this was Wednesday! Enid's might result in her receiving an early death certificate if she blurted it out of the blue. Also, she heard the Addams' were very romantic, and if she wasn't, then why would Wednesday even be with her in the first place?

Enid prepared a note, writing down the location of their first-ever fake date: the graveyard. Although it felt a bit like revisiting the scene of a crime after the whole breaking and entering thing.

She even got Bianca into this whole thing, who responded with a knowing wink and a reassuring "I gotchu girl" expression, tinged with relief. And so, it was Bianca who placed the note on Wednesday's desk, and now Enid silently, actually no, desperately pleaded to whoever was up there that Wednesday would not throw it away.

Enid was, once again, inside Wednesday's apartment, Angel sitting on her bed, her eyes tracking Wednesday's movements as she walked over to her desk.

Wednesday sat down and began organizing her desk, then she saw the paper. Enid's heart skipped a beat. She held her breath, barely managing to keep her gaze casual like it was a normal morning.

With bated breath, Enid constantly chanted, "Don't throw it, don't throw it," like it was some sort of cult prayer while the whole situation went down in real time.

Wednesday opened the paper and began to read, her lips mouthing the words.

"Enid, did you write this?"

What.

She cleared her throat, "What, sorry, excuse me, what? No, I didn’t," Enid blinked, “Why would you assume that…?” How in the world did Wednesday know!?

Wednesday's gaze bore into Enid as if she solved a case. "Well," Wednesday began, her voice carrying cold but had an air of amusement, "I haven't uttered a single word regarding the nature of the item in question. Yet, you immediately assumed and denied my meaning without a hint. You would normally ask me what it is like you usually did, but you went straight to the point."

"Furthermore," Wednesday continued, her tone steady. "Your handwriting, particularly in the letters 'g' and 'y,' have a distinctive swoop. It is not a trait I find among those who have access to my apartment."

Shit, Enid forgot.

Wednesday was supposed to be a detective before becoming an author.

"Also you wrote it in magazine papers." A faint, almost imperceptible smile graced Wednesday's lips, Enid wanted to kiss smack it off of her.

Enid looked at Wednesday, who has her eyebrow raised, anticipating Enid’s answer.

She had two choices, deny or accept fate.

“Okay, fine, it was me.” She accepted her fate, gosh! She knew she should’ve used her non-dominant hand instead for the handwriting! “But, but! You should still continue the scavenger hunt. You know, for a little entertainment.”

She tried to persuade Wednesday into giving in, even using her signature puppy eyes yet again, but goddammit she used her special technique too much on Wednesday, she's basically immune!

"The piece of paper stated that there will be someone waiting for me at the end of this hunt, who will deliver a message. And that someone is you, I believe.” Wednesday placed back the paper on to her table. "You are already here, so why not deliver the message to me as of now?"

Enid felt her heart skip a beat, not because she was swooning, but because she was very sure she could have a heart attack right here and now. Wednesday was presenting her an opportunity to confess, right?, so she should just go and do it!

Deep breathe, one, two, three…

"I really like..." Enid began, her voice trailing off as nervousness gripped her, the weight of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her and her eyes came to a flash. If Wednesday were to reject her now, then what?

"...The progress we've made. On the... book!" Enid's sentence stumbled, she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, her palms sweating.

"Publishing it," she added hastily, her voice a touch too high-pitched. "I mean, it just feels like the right time to, you know, share our work with the world!"

"Enid, a scavenger hunt is rather excessive for a such simple message," Wednesday deadpanned. Yet, Enid saw a hint of sadness and disappointment in her eyes, was Wednesday expecting something more?

Wednesday settled into her chair, her posture dropping slightly. Enid picked up on the minute change, the subtle shift in Wednesday's attitude. She could almost hear the soft sigh that escaped Wednesday's lips.

Okay, maybe Enid’s eyes and ears were just playing plain tricks on her since she was a coward and needed some hope that she had the slightest drop of chance that Wednesday might be into her. Or maybe she was just too afraid to be rejected.

She couldn’t. She could, but not at this moment. If she were to get rejected, it should be where it didn’t have a connection to Wednesday and her. Where it was isolated and far away from her character traits so that Enid wouldn’t have to bear recalling the feeling again.

Enid heard Wednesday’s phone ring, it wasn’t a call, but a notification. It was weird. Wednesday usually doesn’t get notifications since she has her DND on, and if she did, it was mostly from Bianca and she would ignore it from time to time. But now, she checks her phone every so often.

Was Wednesday seeing someone?

No, it couldn’t be.

Probably just a friend, yes. Probably someone like Bianca. That was very important… And very humoring. Looks like it.

Why was Wednesday smiling?

She never smiles.

Never for others, only for Enid.

Okay, only for Enid was a stretch and very possessive of her, but she never saw Wednesday smile unless it was about something very dark. Wait— that’s it! Probably just a message or picture of something dark and scary. Yup, definitely not seeing someone because she was turned off by how the media was saying that she and Enid were seeing each other romantically— Oh that got sad really fast.

“Willa, who’re you texting?”

Yes, play it off like you were talking to one of your besties. Just besties, not besties who Enid has been pining over ever since they went on their first date. Just best friends who will tease each other since the other has been texting someone and Enid will definitely NOT find the said someone and put a bounty on their head.

"Someone has offered to showcase their artwork," Wednesday explained, her tone more earnest. "His name is Xavier, some might describe him as a moderately skilled artist, his work tends to be in the macabre and grotesque genre. I believe it will be of use to our novel."

Enid's mind raced with thoughts that probably shouldn't be released into the world unless she wants to be arrested.

"Well, I can paint too!" Enid almost blurted out loud but kept it in her heart. She knows damn well her little brother can draw more nicely than her. Enid was tempted to ask for his full government name. But she fought it off! She should get a pat on the back with that one.

Enid's curiosity got the best of her, and before she could filter her words, the question slipped out. "You have any... interest in him?"

Her heart raced as she awaited Wednesday's response, her mind desperately hoping for a particular answer. Which is a no and a full long prolonged monologue on how Wednesday absolutely despises him and would rather be with Enid. But maybe that's too much to ask.

Wednesday's response was swift and precise, "Enid, please, do not make such foolish jokes or assumptions. Rest assured, there is no such interest on my part."

Now, with a clearer understanding of Wednesday's feelings – or lack thereof – Enid knew she had a chance! Enid can still shoot her shot, and hopefully, her feelings will be returned. Not now, but Enid will be more straightforward.

Just plain, I like you, and hope she doesn’t get rejected.

Or get interrupted.

Chapter Text

Okay— no— this has to work! It should! If not, then the universe is actually plotting against her.

1. And possibly 4, Win her over with baked goods and a love letter

Enid, this time, opted to be straightforward. To the point, leaving no hints behind, and just plain out say it. Via, sticky note placed onto baked goods.

She rushed to the closest bakery, a place she often saw Wednesday visiting, and leaving what Enid hopes to be her favorite menu item. Who knew Wednesday Addams was a sweet tooth?

"Hi! Can I please get one..." Shit, it isn't on the shelves. Are they all sold out!?

Her eyes were frantically scanning the display cases, trying to find that one cheesecake she saw Wednesday bringing back home to her apartment, it couldn’t be sold out right? She doesn’t see people eating it often, or posting it on social media. She knows this! Her mental notes can provide proof!

The cheesecake in question was pure black, even the insides were, and it held the smallest piece of white frosting on top. "I— Uh, sorry, this might be a weird question to ask, but do you guys have that cheesecake where it’s all pure black?"

The cashier looked at her confused, maybe she shouldn’t have asked that. Maybe it was just an illusion? Maybe Wednesday just added some food coloring on top!

She was about to leave, a defeated walk was in place, but then another worker stepped in. "The Addams favorite, eh?"

Enid turned around to see a boy, about average height, his hair seemed to be all ruffled up that dropped down to his nape, and glasses that framed his face. She didn’t know him, but he seemed to know about Wednesday.

"Oh— Yes! Wednesday Addams comes here often, right?" Enid eagerly asked of the man. He seemed too young but also seemed mature. Enid squinted, trying to read the printed name on the pin

Eugene Ottinger.

Eugene politely asked the previous cashier to step back, and was already… spray painting? The cheesecake in question. So it was just a normal cake with food coloring!

"You’re Enid Sinclair? You look even lovelier in person than the drawings I saw Wednesday doing," he exclaimed with a smile as he neatly packed the food into a small plastic container.

"Thank you so much! That's really kind of you to say..." Her voice trailed off, "Drawings? Wednesday? Drawings of Wednesday and me?"

Hold on, Wednesday can draw— Wait no… Wednesday can do a lot of things, of course she can draw! Wednesday drew her!?

"Yup! It was the first time I saw her genuinely light up, Well, if you count a glint in her eye lighting up.” Yes, it was. Enid noticed that ever since she looked into her eyes.

"She never sketches anyone—except morbid and gruesome scenes—but then she comes here drawing a portrait of a celebrity. Pretty strange, if you ask me." Portrait of Enid. Drawing of Enid. Wednesday drew her.

"It was this girl, with blonde hair and dyed tips, and she had this playful grin that seemed to ignite a spark in her very dull eyes," he explained. A smile. Enid had never been so confident in her smile until this moment.

"Of course, you’re a celebrity and all. She could’ve just been drawing you as Enid Sinclair," he continued, gently setting the box on the counter. "But I could see a difference between you I see here and the Enid Sinclair that Wednesday envisioned. Somehow"

Enid can’t speak. Every word and sentence dissolved into nothing.

"Don't tell Wednesday we just spray paint this. She doesn't know." He smirked, "This is on the house, by the way. For being that sunshine of happiness to otherwise a ball of sorrow.” Eugene chuckled, Enid smiled.

Enid snatched the plastic bag with a nod of appreciation and slapped the sticky note on it as fast as possible, she could’ve broke time itself.

Enid couldn’t help the big grin on her face, she didn’t care that everyone was looking at her, she didn’t care if she would walk out of this store with a million paparazzi surrounding her. Only one person mattered. Wednesday Addams.

She opened the door and a huge gust of wind flew by her and never did stop. It was horribly windy, Enid swore she saw an umbrella just flying across her face.

But it’s alright! Literally nothing can stop Enid, even if she were to get hit by a bus, she would actually force her spirit back inside her body just to confess her love to Wednesday.

She preserved across the windy streets of New York, her hand clutching the pastry as hard as she can, and. her other hand on her forehead. Luckily enough, Wednesday’s apartment wasn’t too far from the bakery.

She sprinted, faster than the time she had to beat Yoko in P.E. for a couple of bucks. Some people say she resembled a dog, but Wednesday said otherwise. Wednesday said she resembled more of a werewolf— Okay, not now for flashbacks! Focus! She needed to get this to Wednesday and confess ASAP.

She busted through the doors of Wednesday's apartment building and headed straight first into the elevator. Even seeing Bianca furrowing her eyebrows in confusion when she saw Enid sprinting towards the elevator like she was a dog fetching a stick.

After a very long session of watching the number of floors she was going through while panting heavily, the doors finally opened, and immediately dashed to Wednesday's apartment.

She knocked on the door, no response.

She knocked on the door again, a little harder this time, almost coming to a bang.

No Response.

"Wednesday! Are you the—"

The door swung open after Enid's persistent banging, and there they were, face to face in a proximity that sent a jolt through Enid’s body. Her words tripped over themselves as she suddenly found herself just a centimeter away from Wednesday.

"Enid."

"Wednesday!"

Wednesday's gaze went up and down Enid's figure, a penetrating stare indeed.

"Did a super typhoon happen to hit your area while running a marathon, Enid?" Wednesday asked, the intensity of her stare unbroken as she motioned for Enid to enter her apartment.

"I mean the winds were pretty strong," Enid replied, her voice carrying a hint of unease. She slipped off her shoes, hesitating briefly in the doorway. She couldn't shake the feeling that everything will soon go wrong. Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea?

"Why the unexpected visit, Sinclair? I have a guest arriving shortly," the young author's tone was firm, her question direct.

Enid nervously played with the plastic bag gripped between her fingers. Her gaze was flitting around the room, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Well… I thought I'd drop by and give you these," Enid offered, extending the plastic bag toward Wednesday.

Inside, her heart raced, desperately praying to whoever is up there that somehow, in some way, her feelings would be accepted. Or not. Oh God, what would Enid do if Wednesday were to reject her on the spot!?

There was a few seconds of silence before she felt the plastic being taken from Enid's hands. The background noise seemed to fade into nothingness, the world shrinking down to just the two of them.

"I appreciate the gesture. Sinclair."

What?

Hold on, what?  Was that a rejection, or maybe Wednesday hasn’t read the note yet?

"Uh, yeah—yeah, you're welcome!" Enid responded, her smile laced with confusion.

Wednesday headed to her living room, placing the bag Enid had given her on a surface, and Enid followed suit, still very confused.

Enid was looking at Wednesday, examining her actions and the way her face seems to tense and ease, all while expecting an answer.

"Enid, do you intend to petrify me with your gaze?" Wednesday's question cut through the atmosphere as she picked the pastry box from its bag. And for a fleeting moment, Enid swore to herself she saw Wednesday’s eyes light up. She swears so!

"You got me my favorite one."

Her voice was soft, angelic, and pleasing. It came as if it was a whisper of affection. Not a description that even fitted Wednesday, but it did. Somehow.

"I’ve seen this lying around your desks like hundreds of times, Willa!" Enid chuckled, almost forgetting she has a confession due.

"Please do not remind me of a time," Wednesday responded, already having a spoon full of cheesecake going towards her mouth.

"So… The note."

"What note, exactly?" Wednesday swallowed her food, while Enid swallowed everything she was supposed to say.

What note? What note!? She was internally fighting herself in her mind, did she just hallucinate everything!?

Enid immediately took the bag to rummage it, her fingers fumbling to locate the sticky note she had placed just outside. She couldn't have imagined it all— Her mind was mentally planning this interaction while doing that, there was no way she could forget!

She tossed and turned the bag, probably almost looking like a mad woman to Wednesday, searching for the pink note she attached to the— Oh fuck it flew off in the wind.

Enid deflated and sank onto the sofa. She knows in herself that she looked like that one Shinji character sitting down on a chair looking petrified and depressed.

"You've been rather unusual lately, Enid," Wednesday remarked. And Enid couldn't deny it. But she wouldn’t guess that the reason why she was acting like this was because of Wednesday Addams herself.

"No— Sorry, it's just that... the receipt! I thought I'd misplaced the receipt. You know, trying to keep my finances in check, haha..." Oh God, Enid’s laughter sounded painfully forced and awkward, she could drown it.

But that didn't mean she couldn't confess, right?

She had to do this. Just three simple words. Three simple words and who knows, Enid might get the answer she was looking for.

Summoning her courage, Enid took a deep breath. She had done her own stunts, driven herself off walls and into lakes, even pretend to kill a man with a hammer on camera for goodness sake—surely, confessing to Wednesday Addams was probably the easiest thing she could do goddamnit!

"Wednesday," Enid called.

"Yes, Enid?" Wednesday heard.

"I've been wanting to say this for a while, but it's been hard to find the right words without, like, hinting at it. I really, really like yo—"

The doorbell's sudden chime echoed through the room, accompanied by a loud voice calling out Wednesday's name.

Yup, maybe the universe really is against me.

Enid's spirits sank even further, and her enthusiasm deflated. "Oh, your guest?"

"Excuse me for a moment," Wednesday said, rising from the sofa and heading towards the door. Enid followed, curiosity tugging her forward.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man, easily reaching six feet. He sported baggy clothing and a hoodie, his long hair pulled into a man bun.

"Xavier."

"Wednesday!" His voice grated on Enid's nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Xavier moved as if to embrace Wednesday, causing Enid's instincts to go forward, but she stopped herself when she saw Wednesday pull away.

"Xavier, we are not in public," Wednesday's tone was dry and unwavering.

Xavier's attention shifted to Enid, who couldn't hide the evident gaze of murder, though he managed to extend a hand for a handshake.

"Hi, I'm Xavier. I'm guessing Wednesday's mentioned me? At least I hope so."

Enid took a brief glance at Xavier's eyes, then focused on his outstretched hand, hesitating slightly before shaking it. "You're the artist who offered to collaborate on both my and Wednesday's novel, right?"

"And her boyfriend."

What the FUCK.

"Thorpe, refrain from spreading such false lies," Wednesday interjected, her voice growing sharper. "I do not consider you in that capacity whatsoever."

Enid was actually baffled. Boyfriend? What boyfriend? Why was this boyfriend dude suddenly appearing? How much had Wednesday been hiding from her since that incident at the pharmacy?

"Could you maybe offer some context here?" Enid turned towards Wednesday with an urgency that might have resulted in a sprained neck.

Wednesday sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her annoyance palpable. "It was a PR decision," she explained, a tinge of frustration evident.

Xavier continued her sentence, "Ever since you guys at the pharmacy made its way into the public eye, the PR team decided that Wednesday and I should pretend to date for a while. It was sort of detrimental to both Wednesday's image and yours."

"How!? What-- I, Why didn't I know about this? Why didn't you tell me, Wednesday?" Enid's voice quivered, not yet at the brink of tears, but confused. Alone.

"I assumed Yoko had informed you," Wednesday replied, her voice carrying a hint of apology amidst her monotone expression.

Oh

“Oh.”

Xavier watched the both of them, standing in front of each other. The silence was too tense and too rough.

"Well, um, would anyone like some dessert?" Xavier attempted to lighten the atmosphere, his voice strained with an awkward attempt at normalcy.

But Enid's voice cut through, "I'll... I'll just go home." She began to reach for her coat and shoes, her movements hastened.

The room grew strangely quiet, each sound seeming distant and muted. Enid's senses felt numbed, disconnected from the world around her. A faint voice called her name, a voice that seemed familiar. Probably Wednesday. But it was strangely muted for the first time.

Drowning never felt so simple.

Chapter Text

Enid should’ve given up. From the moment she heard the fact Wednesday and Xavier were dating, it was a single chance, a sign even, of something telling Enid it was a mistake. She was on the brink of giving up, so close to giving up. It wasn’t the end of the world, and it wasn’t going to kill her, but it felt like she was drowning in a depth so deep, that she couldn’t cry for help. Less she sinks deeper.

And so, for one final try, Enid decided to confess her love directly. The world around her seemed to lose the vibrant hues of her usual perspective, now dulled to desaturated shades. Each step she took felt heavier than before.

The feeling of heartbreak. It wasn’t all that special. Enid had experienced heartbreak from others, love just being one of them. The sting would fade away after a few minutes or hours, but it lingered this time. The pain that had visited her before countless times, but never with such crushing weight.

Enid wandered the streets, her grip tight on a bouquet of black flowers. People around her asked for autographs, she signed without a thought, a practiced smile tugging at her lips. The world demanded her attention, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Some of them asked if the flowers were for Wednesday Addams, and some asked her if the Xavier thing was real. She couldn’t say. Even she was struggling to wrap her head around it, even when she knew the whole fiasco was fake.

“I… I bought them for my family." Enid lied, her voice cracking. She knew it was a weak excuse, but she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. Some people nodded, but some still persisted in asking. She then excused herself from the crowd, her phone blaring with notifications from her pocket.

2:31

yoko+manager

enid

yoko+manager

enid holy shit

yoko+manager

wednesday and xaiver r blowing up on twitter

shes doing an interview rn

yoko+manager

i thought you confessed?????

She pressed on, the weight of her phone feeling strangely heavy in her hand as her eyes squinting and adjusting to the brightness of her phone as if she hadn't seen the sun in days. Enid was about to open that hell-spawn of an app. Then she looked up from her phone. 

Wednesday and Xavier.

They were both surrounded by reporters, Enid could hear everything. The sound of cameras, probing microphones, and clamoring voices that assaulted Enid's senses, yet amid this chaotic mess, Wednesday's voice cut through. For a last time.

"Ms. Addams! Is it really true that you and Mr. Thorpe are dating?"

The words hung in the air, a heavy question that echoed in Enid's ears. She watched, her heart in her throat, as Wednesday hesitated, a visible swallow betraying her nerves. It was a good thing she was blending in with the crowd.

"Unfortunately, yes, I would like to admit that..." Wednesday's admission was punctuated by a gulp, "We are in a relationship."

"What about Enid Sinclair? I heard you two have been caught going out together on walks, and even buying medicine together."

Time seemed to stand still as Wednesday paused, the world around Enid fading into silence.

"The sightings were merely rumors," Wednesday's voice rang out, each word piercing Enid's heart like a thousand cuts. "I am not involved, nor romantically involved, with Enid Sinclair. It was a simple coincidence. I know nothing of her personally, and it is idiotic of people to think we are... in love."

The world dimmed. There was no shattering crescendo, no dramatic reveal—just a gradual fading. Enid's reality grew muted, as if someone had slowly turned down the volume on the world around her. 

No, nonononono… No, fuck, this can’t…

It’s okay, Enid, breathe. It’ll be alright, just fine. All is going to be fine. Wednesday is with that guy. She’s okay with it.

She told herself many times, many times, it'll be alright. It's all fake, right? Maybe Wednesday will accept her feelings, maybe then— Fuck why is she grabbing her arm.

"Sinclair—!?" The voice that rang out was different, higher-pitched than the one Enid remembered—different from the cool, collected Wednesday she had seen moments ago.

Enid acted without thinking, her vision going through tunnels and waves of emotions, only by then she realized what she had done when she found herself and Wednesday facing together within the pavement of an abandoned alleyway. The bouquet she was holding was discarded, and her palms were opened.

"Sinclair, what is wrong with you? Your behavior has been strange as of late." Wednesday's firm, but held the most confusion Enid has ever heard from her. It was a question that cut through the air like a blade.

"Wednesday, I..." Enid struggled to collect her thoughts, her emotions swirling within her. "Why did you say all that? About not knowing me personally, about it being idiotic for anyone to think we're in love?" Her brows knitted together, not in anger, but in search of understanding.

"I believe it's an overreach to deduce romantic involvement based solely on a few chance encounters, and our arrangement is supposed to be private," Wednesday replied, her posture composed, arms folded. "Though I must admit, the reasons behind this was—"

"PR!" Enid interjected with frustration, her voice edged with exasperation. "Yes, Wednesday, I get it, for heaven's sake..."

"Why does this affect you so deeply, Enid? This benefits both of us. We can work in secret without the world assuming we have a romantic connection," Wednesday explained, her tone as pragmatic as ever, viewing the situation through the lens of arrangements and benefits.

Chapter Text

Love.

Such a foreign concept, one that held no true meaning. Or, it was what Wednesday Addams would conclude.

Her family showered her with affection. Her family was loyal to their beloved, their other half. Her family showed love in their own unique way, unparalleled to others and profound to them. And yet, she stood apart from her own family.

She built walls, walls she refused to tear down for even one person. She discarded everything that led to the path of love. She focused on her career, her pursuits, her novel. She was everything in the sense of a prodigy, the perfect portrait of a perfectionist. But one canvas remained blank: a portrait of love.

Then came Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday refused to tear down her walls, she really did. Wednesday told herself countless of times to stay undefeated in the tempest of love. But, she couldn’t. Day by day, she saw Enid. Day by day, Wednesday saw how Enid tore down her own walls effortlessly, how Enid would do anything for her.

But did she believe that? Of course not.

"Because I love you Wednesday."

She stood still on the pavement of an alleyway. Her face stoic, her mind hazed. The words echoed through her mind, a phrase that refused to let go of her being. One that consumed her entirely.

Enid left mere seconds ago, yet Wednesday stayed still. Up until now, she was confused. Conflicted about everything, Enid really did love her.

Enid’s cries were fresh in her heart. It lived there now. Forever reminding her of this moment. But this burden was not meant to be carried; it wasn't a memory Wednesday should bear without… Apologizing.

In truth, Wednesday recognized that Enid had attempted to confess her feelings on multiple occasions. This truth had been apparent for the past week, if not longer. Enid wasn’t the best at words when it came to confessions, she knew. But neither was Wednesday.

Wednesday wanted to tell Enid she accepted her, she wanted to in her whole life. Ever since their first fake date, she wanted to tell her she loved her, a sentiment that had blossomed even before she recognized it herself.

But why would Enid even consider loving her in the first place?

A question always rang through in her head, reminding her countless times that she was not one to be made out of love and affection. It was possible for another to love her, yes, but who would?

Wednesday was in a state of a spiral, her gaze fixed on a single crack in the pavement while her thoughts wandered elsewhere. Until that focus was stopped by footsteps, and her name being called out.

"Wednesday! Are you there!?"

Wednesday hoped it was Enid. Wished, believed even, that Enid had a change of heart and turned back to listen to what Wednesday had to say. Maybe Enid would find it in herself to understand her feelings, and just maybe, forgiveness could be possible.

But hope wasn’t always going to come back around you.

"Wednesday!" Gone was Enid’s voice and out came another. It was Xavier, who had evidently gone searching for her after dealing with numerous amounts of questions and crowds pulling up in front of them.

"Wednesday, are you… okay?" Xavier asked of Wednesday, his movements were cautious, as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

Wednesday yearned for those words to come from Enid, to have that little voice in the back of her mind that resembled Enid to replace the irritating voice she hears now.

"Where's Enid? Didn't she bring you here?" Xavier persisted in his inquiries, while Wednesday maintained her silence. As they made their way back to Wednesday's apartment, he kept asking about Enid.

The Addams could only manage a simple nod, though even that wasn't visible to Xavier, who continued questioning her until her gaze pierced through his eyes, enough to silence him.

Scratching his head, he turned to Wednesday before she could bid farewell, "Hey, so, I wanted to talk to you about..." 

"Thorpe, I need you to cease all communication with me, and let that damn PR team get it through their heads that I do not benefit from this situation on any terms. My management has been struggling with their bullshit ever since I gained fame, yet they refuse to intervene because the PR team constantly asserts that they hold higher authority over mine," Wednesday started, her eye contact strong and intense, enough for Xavier to stumble back and his words to falter.

"Wednesday," He scoffed, "You can't just—"

"I possess enough money to bribe a considerable number of people, if not more. Furthermore, the Addams holds and raised highly praised and competent lawyers, such as my brother Pugsley Addams." Her voice was stern, never really stuttering between sentences, like the man she was facing at this moment, "Be assured that there is nothing preventing me from pursuing a court case to this matter," Wednesday, already turning around to enter the complex she lived in, but Xavier just had to interject yet again.

"Then why did you even agree to this in the first place!?" He moved a step closer, emphasizing his actions with forceful stomps and assertive gestures. However, Wednesday opted for silence, refusing to entertain his questions.

Xavier remained motionless for a moment, his scoffing giving way to sudden laughter. "Is this all about Enid Sinclair? The actress who couldn't even deliver a good performance to save her life—"

His words turned into screams as he instinctively grabbed his nape in pain, his palms staining with blood.

"What the fuck!?" His eyes turned into horror as he sensed something digging into his skin even more, one wrong move and it could plunge into his throat.

Wednesday tilted her head slightly to the side, catching a glimpse of Xavier in her peripheral vision. "I suggest keeping Sinclair's name out of your mouth, you deserve no such right to even speak her name in any manner." With a snap of her fingers, she signaled Thing to emerge from hiding.

"Psychobitch..." Xavier muttered to himself while glaring at Wednesday, who had a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips. He felt unusually dizzy like he had been drugged the moment that sharp pang hit his neck.

"Did we just kill a man?" Thing signed.

"I'd prefer to think of it as showing him a trailer of the afterlife, but unfortunately, no. The drug I had you use is mere child's play compared to what my parents use."

"The more you talk, the more concerned I get."

The author stared at the blank page for too long, it was starting to form a headache that was pounding relentlessly in her head. Nothing was getting across to her, and frustration made it worse to translate her thoughts. Every bit of memory she was clinging onto that held Enid seemed to crumble away.

The final chapter held immense importance for the reader; it needed to have an impact, regardless if it was sad or happy. She tried to kill the love interest, both of them, even. But no, it couldn't end like that. It shouldn't end like that. That narrative choice felt inadequate. It felt wrong. Wrong to her, wrong to Enid.

They never got their feelings across each other, they never told each other that they were special enough, never told each other they love them. Not enough, she assumes. 

Wednesday released her thoughts with a groan, figured she could relieve some pressure by stepping outside. The untouchable feeling of light-headedness gripped her very soul out of pure frustration. She wasn't the short-tempered one in her family, but the accumulation of stress can catch to her too, almost unbearably so.

In a swift pull from her chair, Wednesday made her way to her coat hanger, almost dropping her keys in a hurry to get outside. 

She wanted to see Enid at the other side of her door. Wednesday wanted to see Enid with her watered-down wardrobe choices for Wednesday, the ever-present bouquets of flowers wrapped in her arms, the baked goods she always bought within the apartment. 

She wanted to see Enid's smile. A smile that Wednesday longed to see, a smile that held the promise she'd bring comfort and understanding to Wednesday's life, a laugh that sounded like a melody played in a concerto, a person she wanted to have at her side.

She should've never said anything, should've arranged her thoughts, should've dragged Enid towards her and tell what she's been feeling for the past months. How she wanted to complete their book with the words Addams & Sinclair printed on the cover. With Wednesday's signature in pure black, while Enids' with a gradient of pink and yellow shades. They complemented each other, they were perfect for each other.

Funny how Wednesday realized it just now.

Unhappy endings had always appealed to her. But upon meeting Enid, something had shifted. This ending, the one she had initially deemed fitting, now felt out of place. Wednesday wanted a happy ending, she wanted her own happy ending. 

No, she didn't deserve one. Not yet. 

Wednesday took one step out of her apartment complex, her gaze involuntarily lowering down to her feet. Only to discover rain made its presence known.

.

.

.

No, it couldn't be.

The ground remained untouched by rain droplets, and it only fell solely on her shoes. Until a faint sensation was felt on her nose, and something rolling down on her face.

Tears.

Ah,

she was crying.

Wednesday brought a hand to her eye, wiping at the teardrops that continued to form despite her silent commands for it to stop. She held her head high, attempting to bring it all back down. Until a weight constricted her chest, it was as if invisible hands were tightening around her throat, an unexpected and unwelcome path towards demise. But never one she envisioned.

She was about to head on to her apartment, going back to the place she wanted to leave in the beginning to release everything. The last thing she desired was to display her vulnerability in public, to shed tears where others could see. That is until she heard a voice she knew all too well. A voice that always somehow manifested in her own thoughts, a voice that she wanted to hear, a voice that seemed too close to home to forget.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice reached her ears, causing her to freeze in her tracks.

The author and the actress locked eyes. Wednesday didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do, didn't know what she should do. She wanted to run to her, hug her, tell her those 3 words she couldn't say at this very moment. Would that be enough? Would that be enough for Enid to forgive her? Would that be enough for Enid to try to love her once more?

"Enid," Wednesday managed to utter, her voice the one trembling now. She fought back the urge to succumb to tears while standing before the woman who meant so much to her. "What... Why are you here?" she sniffled.

"We, uhm, just got back to shooting." The awkwardness from her felt unfamiliar, she was always the one who asserted the conversation, now, it was as if she was just replying to what Wednesday had to say. Not really participating. "I was just taking in some fresh air—" 

"Sinclair! We're resuming in... 10 minutes, we need you back on set!" The scene directors called her name, obviously in a hurry due to the prolonged delay in their schedule.

The actress glanced over her shoulder to see the directors and her scene partners waiting for her, already positioning themselves on set.

"Well... That's my cue," She shined a smile, one that Wednesday knew she was forcing.

"Wait!" Wednesday called out, attempting to grab her arm, but failed to do so as Enid was too quick to turn back to her place. "I... I have something I wish to say."

"That I'm still not good enough for you?"

Chapter Text

"Enid Sinclair, I love you."

The three words. The three words she longed to hear in her life. Did everything stop in its path? No. Was there any soundtrack playing in the background? No. Were there any special effects? No. Everything was the same, yet so different.

Enid felt her heart stop for moments until she regained consciousness of what was happening. Wednesday was confessing to her, in the most honest and, truthfully, the most romantic confession Enid has ever heard. It was like out of a K-drama for Christ’s sake!

Moments of silence hung between them. Enid didn’t know what to say, but her eyes told a story that she couldn’t admit out loud, her hands itched to pull Wednesday into a hug, and her heart said everything she couldn’t.

"I— I shall take your silence as rejection," Wednesday swallowed, probably every single remaining pride she had left, and started to turn away. But Enid reached for her arm, like always. She always reached out to Wednesday, she always did. Even when Wednesday didn’t reach back, Enid persisted in it. But now, Wednesday reached back. Looked back at her, even.

"Willa, for an author that absolutely hates romance to their core, that is the most romantic fucking thing I’ve ever heard," Enid smiled, chuckled, and even cried.

A tear went down her face as she held her arms outright and pulled Wednesday into a tight embrace. Something that she would’ve done in the first place, something she could’ve dreamed of, something she should’ve loved more than anything.

It was then Wednesday slowly pulled her back, her eyes watering, filled with confusion and hopefulness as if she was afraid she’d wake up from a dream so beautiful. But then her gaze softened, and it was that same spark that flew from their first meeting. Showing the very glint Enid recognized from the start. It was like their love beginning again.

Wednesday guided her back into the hug they shared. It was the moment they knew that, they were made for each other. It was nothing new, but everything changed. Everything was made up of starlight from their perspective, and it was timeless.

It was this holy ground that they both held each other like a delicate piece of glass. Never dropping in the slightest, and it would be treacherous if they did.

Enid couldn’t say anything at the moment. She could say everything, but yet she couldn’t. Everything was seen on her face. She was happy, the one where you couldn’t seek for more. The one where you’re satisfied. Cherished. Loved.

Enid felt Wednesday tighten her grip on her, and she did the same. Enid wanted closure, wanted her feelings for Wednesday to end so she wouldn't suffer the feeling of being haunted by the fact that Wednesday would never come to love her as much as she did. But in the end, she found happiness. Something she would never trade for, not even for peace. As long as Wednesday's love for her wasn't a mere hoax, she was content with her life.

They didn't know how many minutes passed by during that time, and how Enid's director wasn't pestering her to— Oh shit, her shoot!

Enid quickly pulled back from their hug, "Shit, Willa! I'm so sorry, that hug we just did was, like, super great but I literally have a shoot right now," The actress stammered her words, almost forgetting the English language was something she was speaking.

"You homosexuals done making a scene?" Yoko approached the two of them, looking proud at Enid with a smirk and looking at Wednesday with a proud, but still disappointed, look.

"Finally took you long enough, Addams. I thought Bianca was for sure going to force you into confessing to Enid."

"It is astonishing how most people perceive the relationship with my manager to as something close. We are nothing but acquaintances who, coincidentally, have been reconciled through my years of going to that horrid institution."

Yoko tilts her head, her glasses tipping over, "You know what's astonishing? How I've been watching you two terribly crush on each other for MONTHS and I, just now, did a full-on debate with the director in charge to extend Enid's break so that you two can get together." She looked at both of them, fake wiping a tear in her eye, "Honestly, it was beautiful. I'm grateful to be a part of this moment in time. And, yes, you guys are obligated to pick me as the main maid of honor." 

Enid chuckled, playfully punching Yoko's shoulder while Wednesday watched the two with furrowed eyebrows, "Was it really a moment to be grateful to be a part of?"

"Enid, you may not see my face through these expensive sunglasses, but I am currently crying right now because of you gay bitches," She chuckled, almost choking out a cough. "Also don't act like you've been wanting and ranting for this moment to happen like you—"

The blonde immediately slapped Yoko's mouth shut, her nails digging into Yoko's skin as they spoke, "Alllright Yoko, blab another word out and I'll tell Divina you've been spending all your money on Twilight merchandise," Enid chuckled, and Wednesday even let a little grin out. 

"Your threats have been significantly increasing in their level of intimidation, Sinclair. I am impressed." Wednesday nodded, which some would say that's basically a pat on the back and a trophy for her.

Enid lifted her hand away from Yoko's mouth, and out came a gruesome amount of saliva, but hey, at least she got the girl she was pining for the last few months, "Learned from the best, Wends," She smiled.

"Eugh, you guys are so perfect for each other it's disgusting. Looks like Cupid never left you guys alone, huh." Yoko gave them both disgusted looks before chuckling and turning away to go back set, "Enid we actually need you this time so kiss your goth girlfriend goodbye for a tiny second!"

Cupid... Left... Alone... Book... Addams & Sinclair... Holy shit.

Enid almost snatched her neck to look back at Wednesday, if she was wearing a wig right now, it would've flown off, "Wednesday— Oh Em Gee, I am a GENIUS!" She grabbed the Addams' shoulders and started rocking her back and forth, and Wednesday was just tolerating it. Which actually means she loves Enid with all of her heart, she could be exiled from the state of New York but Wednesday would still travel around the world just to find her.

"Enid, please refrain from rocking me back and forth and just get to the point." 

"Okay— Remember what Yoko just said right now?"

"I hardly remember anything that comes out of her mouth, it's almost intolerable."

"I get that you probably hate Yoko to your very soul, even if deep inside you dont—" 

"Do not assume—"

"I get that you're very pretty and everything that comes out of your mouth will be engraved in my will but, shh! Yoko said that Cupid never left us. Us. And, the book we're writing is, I heavily theorize and it's probably correct, that it's based on ourselves—"

"Sinclair, Do not assume that—"

"Oh Wednesday, you're not a great liar when it comes to these things. But anyway, regarding the title of our book, it should be called..." Enid held up her index fingers and started drumming on air for a fake drum roll.

"Oh my Cupid, leave me the hell alone." Enid waved her hands in the air creating a magical scene with her bare hands, "It should be like those covers we see on those romance books! Bold, and just right in your face! With design, of course, and... Our names should be on the opposite sides." The actress smiled, putting her hands behind her back, "You know, we work. We shouldn't but we do. And look at us now."

"Oh my Cupid..." Wednesday said, testing the words on her tongue and how it sounded. She couldn't admit that the characters in their book were projecting them in person, Enid knew, well, just now, but it's safe to say that it was their own way of saying I love you. Looks like they were confessing to each other without even knowing it.

"I'll think about it."

Enid's face lit up and almost jumped up and down out of pure excitement! But come on, who wouldn't?

"Enid Sinclair! We need you on set in 3 minutes!" The casting director called out, can't a girl enjoy a moment with the love of her life?

The blonde in question chuckled and looked at Wednesday, "I'll be back Willa. Just need to shoot a scene where my character just barely gets away with murder, I'll see you later! Wait for me, alright?" Enid dipped down, definitely not because of Wednesday's small height, and kissed her on the cheek.

Enid didn't know what she was doing until she turned back and ran back to the set. Almost tripped over her shoes to look over at Wednesday. Shit, shit, shit! I kissed her too soon! What will she think of me noo.....ww?

Enid turned back to see a flustered Wednesday. With the biggest smile, and with her dimples on her face, not just a small one, but a full-on dimple! At that moment, time stopped. Time actually stopped for Enid. Even when she was assembling in her position, time stopped. Time stopped to observe Wednesday from after. She was enchanted by the sight, and she felt like she was transported to wonderland.

Wednesday looked happy. For once. She looked content, she looked the happiest she had ever been. Enid never saw Wednesday smile that big, unless it was something gruesome of course, but she was smiling. Right now. Because of Enid. Enid made her happy, and she was so gorgeous.

This was the happy ending they were both looking for. They stood apart from each other as if they were night and day. Everything that was opposite from another. In darkness, Wednesday found light. In the warmth blanket of Enid, she found coldness. Some would say it's bad luck, to meet your opposite. Always clashing with each other's personality, opinions, whatever. But these two, they complement each other. They gave their own style of a happy ending. 

Cupid never left them alone, and now, the two opposites became the ones that complemented the other.