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At an ungodly hour of the night, a certain disembodied appendage frantically tugged at Wednesday's blanket—disturbing her restless slumber. With one swift movement, she jolted upward, spine straight, and smothered the perpetrator underneath her pillow.
Thing desperately struggled beneath the silky fabric to escape captivity, to no avail.
“You pathetic limb,” she said in a hazy voice before removing the pillow from above him. “No excuse, no plea of yours justifies this.”
Thing clenched into a fist as if poised to strike Wednesday square on her face, but he composed himself, instead, gesturing toward her roommate’s side of the room. Her eyes promptly followed, only to find an empty bed—blanket and pillows gone. Enid was missing.
She had other pressing matters to attend to, like her own sleep. And she’d rather let her dream run its course—one where public guillotine executions made a comeback, and she was there to witness it.
She sank back into bed, into the warm comfort of the blanket, ready to drift off. That was, until Thing insisted, tapping her shoulder with urgency. Begrudgingly, she turned on her side, resisting the urge to chuck him across the room into oblivion.
“You are insufferable ,” she muttered. “If her whereabouts matter that much to you, perhaps it falls on you to find her.”
Thing signed in an accusatory manner, pointing fingers at her.
“Running away from me? Please, I haven’t done anything to warrant that. And if I did, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, I suppose.”
Thing’s tapping intensified, signaling the door, urging Wednesday to search for her missing roommate and his manicure buddy.
This is a losing fight. When it came to Enid, Thing would never take ‘no’ for an answer. Their loyalty to each other irked her for reasons she couldn't quite explain. So she relented, “Very well. But the next time the wolf deviates from the pack, she’ll remain a stray.”
With a heavy sigh, she got out of bed and pulled a black robe over her sleepwear. One last glance at Thing, who waved mockingly, knowing he had succeeded in convincing Wednesday Addams to do his bidding. She scowled and then shut the door.
✞—————❖—————✞
The cold outside their dorm reminded her why she should be in bed—not out playing detective for a runaway werewolf. The halls of Nevermore, dreary and woeful as ever, stretched out for what seemed an eternity—her footsteps, the only reprieve in an otherwise eerie silence.
Where does an offensively vibrant teen with a penchant for blind optimism wander off to at three hours past midnight?
The answer eluded her and should hardly have concerned her. Yet her stomach rumbled with a feeling her brain refused to acknowledge.
Wednesday knew it better than anyone; Jericho was not the place to go missing. Missing persons cases often yielded unhappy endings in such a depressing town.
Bearing that in mind, each failed attempt to track her down gradually made her chest tighten.
The quad, desolate and devoid of life. Under different circumstances, a welcome sight, but the empty benches laughed at her tonight.
The library, save for the prying eyes of antique portraits adorning the walls, did not bear a single soul.
The Hummers' shed, Xavier’s studio, both last-ditch efforts, and both lacking Enid.
Wednesday exited Xavier’s studio in haste, her robe doing very little to shield her from the unforgiving chill in the night air, and trudged back to the dorm, seemingly defeated.
She’s gone.
It shouldn't have mattered. It shouldn't have affected her. And yet, a feeling she could only describe as an ‘unsettling sense of responsibility’ crushed her chest. Was Thing right all along? Had Wednesday run Enid off? And would he even have let her return to the dorm without his oh-so-dear Enid? Had something vile happened to Enid?
Her pessimistic pondering came to a halt when, from the surrounding woods, emanated an unmistakable sound—that of Enid Sinclair’s unruly giggle rudely disturbing the serenity of the night.
Relief and confusion washed over her simultaneously. Relief that Enid was indeed alive (and knowing Thing wouldn’t stab her in her sleep), but she was perplexed by Enid’s apparent amusement in such dire surroundings. What was there to laugh about in the middle of the woods?
A second giggle confirmed the location, and with resolve in her step, Wednesday strode toward source. She pushed through the thicket, and surely Enid would have been aware of the crunch of autumn leaves beneath Wednesday’s feet, except her lively voice masked Wednesday’s rummaging. She was conversing, but with whom?
“...stop it!” Enid said in between a fit of giggles.
With her back against an ancient oak, Wednesday stealthily rounded the tree until she could get a glimpse of the unfolding scene.
It was Enid. Unequivocally, Enid, whose pastel-infused abominations of clothing disrupted the monochromatic moonshine.
And beside her, an idiotic, beanie-clad gorgon, grinning stupidly. Ajax Petropolus.
More like Ajax Preposterous .
Why did she feel the need to leave the relative safety of their dorm to entertain this jester in the dead of night?
His lanky arm carelessly draped over Enid’s shoulder, over her roommate’s shoulder. Their gazes locked—mischief and wonder in her eyes, and not a single thought behind his vacant stare. They sat on a blanket—the same one missing from Enid’s bed—on the leafy terrain beneath the cover of the tree.
If Enid truly saw something in him, then perhaps she deserved whatever brutal fate awaited her had she indeed vanished into Jericho’s deadly abyss. But Thing insisted. He dragged Wednesday out of bed for this —for a repugnant display of affection. And for whatever reason, the display was enough to elicit Wednesday biting her lower lip hard, drawing a speck of crimson.
Ajax leaned closer and whispered something—surely some vapid nonsense into Enid’s ear. And Enid giggled, her cheeks flushing. And Wednesday braced for what came next.
His eyelids fluttered closed, lips puckered, poised to meet Enid’s lips— her roommate’s lips. Enid, though, hesitated, her eyes never closing yet ever so slightly gave in to his advances, perhaps not wanting to offend him.
At least, that was her intention.
Wednesday hastily emerged from behind the tree, no longer willing to be a passive onlooker. The snapping of the twigs below and a shadow looming above them announced her presence. With arms crossed and brow furrowed, she stood before them, expectant.
Enid squealed, and in the distance, a lone wolf returned the call. Ajax’s eyelids snapped open, releasing his hold on Enid the instant he met Wednesday’s glare.
“We-Wednesday?!” Enid stammered, scrambling to her feet and brushing leaves off her clothes. “What the fuck are you doing out here?!”
“The very same question I have for you, minus the expletive. People— appendages —are concerned for your wellbeing,” Wednesday said, sternly, her cold gaze locked with Enid’s darting eyes that shifted from Wednesday to Ajax.
“Woah. Were you stalking us?” Ajax mustered as he, too, rose to his feet, towering over the shorter girls.
Wednesday regarded him with disdain in her eyes, leaving his question unanswered. But her eyes conveyed a message to him, loud and clear: “Not another word from you.”
But he was too moronic to heed her warning and opened his mouth again anyway.
“Well, we were just leaving anyway.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Then leave," she ordered, her unblinking glare having the same effect as Medusa’s serpents as the gorgon remained frozen in place.
“Yeah, okay… but she needs someone to walk her back.”
“Yes, me.”
Enid fiddled with her pastel pink sleeve as she watched them. A blush crept onto her cheeks as she recognized the look in Wednesday’s eyes. It was the same one she’d have when Enid toyed around with Wednesday’s possessions. Whether it was her typewriter or her cello, her response never changed: “Mine.”
Ajax shifted his gaze toward Enid, hoping she’d chime in, but she was too caught up gawking at her adorably homicidal roommate.
“Right, yeah, that’s what I meant…” His voice faltered, and he tugged at his beanie. “Catch you later, Enid?”
“Oh!-Uh, s-sure.” Enid snapped out of her trance, not quite sure what the hell she agreed to.
And at long last, the gorgon took his leave, nearly tripping over a tree root in the process. The roommates watched as he faded into obscurity, his footsteps waning, leaving only a deafening silence between them.
“Our dorm mother won’t be too pleased to discover that you’re breaking curfew to indulge in nocturnal escapades.” Wednesday’s snarkiness cut through the quiet.
Enid blinked. “Really? Is that what this is all about?” she asked incredulously. “Thornhill only cares about her damn plants. And besides, it’s for a special occasion. Not gonna happen again, promise.”
“Special occasion?”
“Yeah…”
“Well?”
“Don’t laugh, okay?”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed in a line straighter than her fencing blade.
“I’ll do my best.” she deadpanned.
“My blog just hit 100 followers, can you believe it?!” she eagerly revealed. “I was too excited to sleep, and I wanted someone to celebrate with. I was gonna tell you, but you’re always so… you .”
A snarky reply had already crossed her mind, but when she saw genuine delight and sincerity in Enid’s moonlit eyes, she bit her tongue.
“Well, kudos to you, Enid.”
Enid’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh—thank you, Wednesday! It’s funny, I never really thought—”
“It still doesn't negate the fact that you willingly put yourself in harm’s way by doing this.” Wednesday interrupted.
And Enid’s lip curled into a sly smirk.
“Wait, hold on. First, Thing is worried, then Thornhill’s gonna bitch out, and now I’m in danger? Which one is it, Wens ?”
Wednesday tilted her head, momentarily thrown off by Enid’s boldness.
“All of the above. Just goes to show how much of a careless fool you are when your actions bring several consequences.”
“The only consequence I see is a jealous Wednesday Addams.” Enid teased, taking one step closer to her.
Wednesday averted her gaze for a brief moment, and warmth blossomed on her cheeks. She opened her mouth to refute her claims, but Enid placed a finger on her lips.
“Shhh… Yapping won’t help when your eyes give you away.” Enid said playfully.
Wednesday gently placed her hand on Enid’s wrist, then pulled it away, a droplet of blood from her bitten lip staining Enid’s pale finger.
Enid’s gaze shifted to Wednesday’s crimson-streaked lower lip, and it lingered long enough for Wednesday to meekly run her sleeve along it.
“Well, if you’re done accusing me of heinous crimes, I’d like to get going," Wednesday concluded, turning her back on Enid.
But before she could stride away, Enid no longer hesitated. She grabbed Wednesday’s arm, spun her around, and lunged at her with an impulsive burst of lycanthropic force.
With a thud, their bodies tumbled onto the earth, leaves scattering from the impact. Enid landed atop Wednesday, straddling her, resting her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders.
Wednesday, left breathless, both literally and figuratively by Enid, was ambushed by an onslaught of unfamiliar, yet not entirely unwelcome sensations. The amorous glint in those warm blues that stared back at her intently—piercing. The way blue and pink strands of hair tickled her flushed cheeks as Enid slowly descended—rousing. The warmth of Enid’s breath as she closed the distance between their faces—intoxicating. And her apathetic heart finally found reason to thump fervently for something, for someone .
And she was sentenced for her so-called heinous crimes—sentenced to the gentle pressure of Enid’s lips against her own.
Her body jerked in protest, a natural reaction when confronted with such unsolicited physical affection. Unsolicited, yes. Unwanted? She’d never say. But as the kiss deepened, wide eyes fluttered closed, and clenched fists became trembling hands that reached for the arch of Enid’s back, pulling her closer.
Enid softly moaned into Wednesday’s mouth, never pulling away from the metallic taste of Wednesday’s bitten lip. No one ever said kissing Wednesday Addams would be sweet, but Enid was hooked. Hooked on the possessive way Wednesday claimed her as her own.
Wednesday gripped Enid’s nape, her fingers tangled in blonde locks, refusing to let Enid part first. Her kiss, increasingly rough with every moan Enid released into her mouth. And as the last remnants of oxygen threatened to abandon both their lungs, Enid pulled back, or attempted to. Wednesday tightened her grip, and as a parting gift, she sank her teeth into Enid’s lower lip, staking her claim.
Enid gasped for air—and after escaping Wednesday’s clutches, she brought a hand to her lip, ran a finger along it, and checked for blood. Her finger was stained again, but this time with her own blood.
And Wednesday never averted her gaze; a smirk crept onto her lips, satisfied.
“Okay, ouch ! But also… damn, Addams," Enid said, returning the smirk, their faces still mere inches apart. Chests pressed together, rising and falling steadily.
“You’re mine, Sinclair. Do you understand?” Wednesday asked, but it was more a demand, a claim, than a question.
“Always have been, you freak," Enid smiled and reached down to give Wednesday a quick peck on the lips, unable to resist the urge to taste her again, even if just for a moment.
Silence fell among them again as they rose from the floor, brushing leaves off their clothes. Wednesday regained her composure first, every trace of her flustered state disappearing. But Enid had a now-permanent giddy smile playing on her lips, reaching to touch her still-throbbing lower lip in disbelief, in awe that Wednesday Addams had claimed her so fiercely.
And the comfortable silence as they walked back to the dorm turned into an awkward one, as both girls slowly realized that a judgmental hand awaited them, and they’d have to explain why they both returned with bloody, swollen lips.