Chapter Text
It was a well-known fact that the Addams family had roots all over the world. Known and unknown. In the 1800s, when outcasts were being hunted for sport in the Americas, what remained of the family fled and established roots in countries that recently gained independence.
People outside of outcast families don’t know this, but Wednesday’s grandfather was born and raised in the Philippines, before stealing a plane and making way for the States during the height of the Cold War.
Besides her Uncle Fester, she would regard her Lolo as one of her favorite people in the world. Crisostomo Addams.
Her grandfather was the one that inspired her to be a writer and was the one that gifted her his old typewriter. He taught her how to appreciate the meaning behind the music, the intention behind every stroke of a brush, the emotions in every line of a poem.
“But poetry is an inane way of writing something, it is too short. The language of the romantics. What other emotions could it portray besides love?” She remembers asking her Lolo one afternoon in the library.
“Poetry seems like it is easy to do. It is the language of the romantics, yes. But would you say that it also allows a person to portray their grief and sadness, their frustration, their nostalgia with a musicality that resonates with the world?” He says as he takes a sip of his wine.
The young Addams pensively looks at the book in her lap. A new appreciation for the literary craft. “When you find the person that your curse yearns for, every line of a song and the beauty of it will make sense.”
If one thought that Gomez and Morticia were the poster children for romance, they were not privy to the serenades Crisostomo performed for Eudora. Harana , he called them. Stood outside the manor, guitar in hand as he sang for his beloved wife.
After hearing him sing songs in his mother tongue, Wednesday grew fond of the language. There were days when Morticia found the young girl entranced by her grandfather’s collection of old Filipino songs that were smuggled into the country by Fester as a 50th birthday gift.
The young Addams was the only one in the family that was exceptional enough to learn an entire language based solely on the lyrics of songs. Her grasp rivaled that of Crisostomo. His pride for his first grandchild reached new heights after their first conversation in Tagalog.
He joined the cold arms of Lady Death when she was thirteen, due to an unfortunate encounter with a bear. Wednesday stayed silent for the entire celebration period. Longing to hear his voice once more. Her grandmother followed him the very next day.
She inherited his guitar, along with his record collection, and the letters that he and her grandmother exchanged while they were courting. While she finds the exchange, as the kids call it ‘cringe,’ she holds them close to her slow beating heart and keeps them in a box in her writing desk under her manuscript.
One of them addressed her, filled with her Lolo’s hopes for her to find the person their heart sings for. To experience that maddening, debilitating bliss as she succumbs to the curse that flows through her veins.
Her Lolo was right about one thing about the curse; it is indeed maddening.
Wednesday refuses to admit that the new sight of her blonde roommate rendered her speechless when term started back up again. Scars on display and a slightly darker wardrobe, she nearly fell on her knees and called Enid beautiful in every language known to man.
Semester break for the young Addams was spent learning the ins and outs of the new phone her parents gifted her—after tossing the one Xavier gifted her out of a moving car. Loathe as she was to admit, the black square in her pocket did have its many uses. Information gathering, stalking, extortion, quick notes, and her favorite use of it all, Spotify.
She used the cursed app to curate her music into categories and used it as an avenue to sharpen her language skills by discovering new music. Wednesday grew partial to the sound of the 2000s alternative bands which helped in updating her lingo in Tagalog. She even spent the rest of the break learning how to play along with them.
Her second semester started off… Boring. Since she chooses to ignore the onslaught of admirers for saving the school (colour her surprised that said admirers were of the fairer sex), the only excitement came from Xavier’s expulsion after a poor attempt at stalking her.
Until last week, at least.
She doesn’t know why she agreed to Bianca and Enid’s pleas to perform at the Bloody Bash after the cover band cancelled suddenly. All she remembers from that interaction was her roommate’s pleading look, the tears welling in her bright blue eyes and the quivering lip that she wanted to run her thumb across. Thing had to stab a pencil into the young Addams’ leg just to snap her out of it.
Which is why she is holed up in the music room with Bianca and Yoko, trying to figure out what song to perform at the school dance. The two Nightshades volunteered to help Wednesday with the last-minute request. Resisting the urge to send the guitar in her lap through the window, Wednesday traces the C.A. etched into the body.
Headmistress Hightower was more lenient than Weems when it came to student-led events, so the student council decided that this year’s theme for the dance should be centered on romance.
Plagued with the thoughts of her colorful roommate, she can’t help but think about all the songs in her ‘yearning 🥀’ playlist. Wednesday hopes that none of the student-body would catch on to the meaning behind the songs.
“ Yeah, I’m still blanking on what to play. How ‘bout you Addams?” Yoko asks from her place behind the drums, balancing a drumstick between her nose and upper lip.
“I have a few ideas. I just wish that the theme was not so general. For my set I was planning on doing three songs. Barclay, would you be comfortable providing background vocals in a different language?”
“Let’s hear the songs, I’ll let you guys know.”
Wednesday ignores the gasps from the two as she plugs her phone into the speaker. The beginning notes of the first song provide a nostalgic melody, from the corner of her eye she sees Tanaka bobbing her head along with the beat. Barclay has her eyes closed, focusing on the lyrics.
Oo nga pala, hindi nga pala tayo
Hanggang dito lang ako, nangangarap na mapasa'yo
Hindi sinasadya na hanapin pa ang lugar ko
'Asan nga ba ako? 'Andiyan pa ba sa iyo?
'Asan ba 'ko sa 'yo? Aasa ba 'ko sa 'yo?
After the first chorus of the song, Wednesday turns her head towards the two Nightshades. Barclay looked pensive, tapping her chin with a manicured finger. Meanwhile, Tanaka’s mouth was agape. Eyes darting between the phone and Wednesday.
“Holy shit, dude. You have it bad for her, huh?”
She snaps her head quickly and snarls at the stunned vampire. “What are you talking about?!”
“Down, girl. I mean c’mon you’re basically professing your love with this song.”
Eyes widening at the implication that Tanaka understood the lyrics took the breath from her lungs, and not in a fun way. She’s fucked, she knows it. Enid’s closest friend of all people figured her out, she will need to remedy this. Maybe Thing will be open to do a bit of espionage and find out Tanaka’s deepest secrets.
“Am I the only one lost in this conversation?”
Silence washes over the trio, Wednesday glares at the vampire. Shutting her down with a mere look that said ‘we’ll discuss this later’.
Yoko clears her throat, “We can play this, no problem. Right, B?”
Suspicious of Yoko and Wednesday, Bianca’s eyes narrow. “I may not understand, but I have a feeling this has something to do with the walking rainbow you call your roommate,” she says as she adjusts the strap of the bass, “But yeah, sounds easy enough. Now, let’s hear the rest of your ideas.”
Well.
As if this day couldn’t get worse for Wednesday.
Taking a deep breath, she walks back over to her case. Producing sheet music that she had prepared the night before. “Speak nothing of this to Enid. Unless you wish to find the carcass of a dead animal in your beds.”
As Enid walks the halls of the campus, her feet lead her down to the hall of the music room. Knowing that Wednesday would be there practicing for the Ball, she wonders if her roomie would play her a little something. She can hear music playing faintly in the distance, but her ears can’t pick up the words being sung.
Was that Wednesday? Her singing voice sounds so good.
Softly smiling to herself, her wolf purrs at the idea of her mate serenading her.
Ok, so she hasn’t told anyone about Wednesday being her mate. But can you blame her?
If word got out that she’s pining for the goth, Wednesday would distance herself even more. She just got her ‘hug Wednesday Addams’ certificate approved, she’s not willing to lose that privilege just yet.
In the three weeks before the term ended, she and Wednesday were inseparable. Some nights, she woke up to her roomie watching over her. When asked why, all Wednesday said was “Nightmare. I had to make sure you were alright.”
The following nights they agreed on a compromise to shift their beds to face each other, in case either of them woke up in the middle of the night.
Enid remembers memorizing each slope and curve of Wednesday’s face illuminated by moonlight. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch. Wondering if her touch would alleviate the constant worry lines on Wednesday’s face. She fell, and thanks to her wolf, she fell hard.
A loud crash from the general direction of the music room makes Enid stutter in her steps. Worry etched in her face, she speeds up and stops as soon as she hears the voices from inside the room.
“Consider that as your last warning, leech.” She hears Wednesday hiss.
“Don’t look at me like that! It was Bianca that messed up the last note!” was Yoko’s exasperated reply. Enid can’t see anything so she assumes that the siren just shrugged at the accusation.
“Regardless! We have to do this perfectly. She deserves nothing but the best. I will not have my reputation as an Addams ruined by a subpar courting ritual.”
She? Courting?
Enid feels her heart crack slightly. Her mind on overdrive. She can feel her wolf rumble and howl at the new information.
Wednesday is trying to court someone? What?
She tries to think about who the lucky person might be. Would that person be the complete opposite of Enid? Is it one of the fangs that hang onto Wednesday’s word like it were gospel?
“Addams trust us, she’ll love it. We literally just started learning the song.”
Wednesday’s voice sounded so small, “I just want her to look at me for once.”
“Trust me when I say this, dude. This thing you’re doing? This will definitely make her swoon. And I think I’d be the authority on what she would think about it.”
Enid has heard enough. Silent and dejected, she trudges back the way she came and starts making her way back to Ophelia Hall.
Tears pricking her eyes and choking back a sob, she throws herself onto her bed. Wishing that the ground swallow her whole. As her face meets the pillow, she lets the dam break. Gasping for air, she buries her head further. The only solace was Wednesday's lingering scent into the fabric of her sheets from their last movie night.
Her wolf whimpers in sync with each hiccup, their mate was in love with someone else.