Chapter Text
loving wednesday came to enid like air to lungs, water to fire— a desire to love, not a need.
it would be cruel to deny the addams’ immediate acceptance (or: fondness) for the were’s presence in her life. enid was the first girl wednesday attempted to connect with, aside from her doting mother. but enid didn’t pepper her with kisses and call the seer her little scorpion and affectionately brush out her long black hair for it to be replaited— at least not at first. enid challenged wednesday; forced her to escape the leeching suckers of her comfort zone and do things she didn’t necessarily think were important, until enid did. like attending social gatherings (terminology used loosely. enid would often refer to them as ‘parties’ however wednesday often found there was no need for celebration. but if it made enid smile wide and tremble with excitement, it would suffice) and engage in conversation longer than five minutes— even if it was against her will.
the seer often said she looked back on their days at nevermore rather fondly— another emotion she didn’t come to posses much until the were’s presence in her life. it had often only been preserved for when her father had first taught her fencing as soon as her first steps took place, he had seen her as an equal competitor even when her chubby fingers couldn’t properly clutch the sabre yet. enid wormed her way into wednesday addams’ life for good, whether she wanted it or not.
the soft illit of enid’s voice when she’d call for or talk to the seer, “willa, can you please take care of the maintenance man when he comes? he never takes me as seriously as you.” willa, the sweet sound of it escaping the were’s mouth sent a delicious curl of agony inside of wednesday’s chest every time. regardless of how it was said. the first time enid had called her such wednesday dropped the quill and spilled her ink reserved for editing her novel. “i’ll see you in a bit, willa, don’t miss me too much~” the blonde had cooed, gasping when the ink was abruptly spilled— staining the old oak desk, wednesday’s hands and clothes and most importantly the page of a freshly typed chapter. silence had enveloped ophelia hall, enid watching as wednesday’s jaw ticked, body frozen and gaze downcast as the dark ink seeped and settled into the paper.
enid had panicked, “oh my gosh! wednesday, i’m so sorry!” a hand outstretched to discard the soaking wet paper— the seer snatched it out of her hands rather forcibly, muttering something about getting thing to fix it for her and all but stormed out of the room. leaving enid with the heavy silence of her flustered exit.
(later, when the rest of nevermore was asleep and one of the were’s disgustingly sweet candles had been lit did wednesday creep over to her side of the room and take her hands in her own. enid’s knuckles had been brushed with light kisses. the seer’s face contoured by the flickering flame of the candle as she murmured “i apologise for my outburst earlier, querida, my mind and body were separate. it was most unkind, are you alright?”
and enid would allow the curl of jealousy to seep into her core seeing the addams girl peer at her so intently— so carefully as though enid’s comfort was the be all and end all of her own. her hands so carefully wrapped up in her cold ones, reeling in the intent swirl in wednesday’s dark ones. “of course i am, willa, don’t worry.”
and if enid giggled knowingly when the seer’s face warmed significantly and the hold on her hands became tighter, it was her own little secret.)
or the way that enid would on occasion— rarely, at that— wake up before wednesday and smile sleepily at the mass of raven tickling her face and neck. the seer always fell asleep the same; straight on her back, with hands crossed over her collarbones firmly. yet morning after morning, she would wake with her face smushed in enid’s neck, inhaling the remnants of her disgustingly soft strawberry shampoo, limbs tangled under the duvet. because the seer would often wake up before her, enid rarely got to bask in the beauty of wednesday’s resting face; the quirk in her brow that, at one point, enid thought was permanently there was softened, chest inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling, her heartbeat a faint lull against enid’s own.
(on mornings like that, wednesday could only be woken by claws carding through her hair and the rumble of the were’s voice against the shell of her ear. the seer would turn away from it, attempting to relax back into her terribly comfortable slumber once more with a hand tracing her spine through her sleep shirt.)
since their days at nevermore, wednesday had become a successful cellist. the seer had noticed a calling for a lead cellist to join the new york symphony orchestra and had arrived with a confidence in her step only an addams could configure. thing had set up her cello nicely, unnoticed, as wednesday placed her audition sheet in front of the directors.
“and why— miss addams— should we consider you for this position?” one of the men spoke, his fingers dusted in ash from one of the many cigarettes crumpled in the tray in front of him. her nose twitched. the seer took her place with the cello in between her trousered legs and held the bow, waiting.
“because you will deeply regret it if you do not.” an arrogance so bold that one would assume nothing the raven haired woman could perform would be good enough, but as always— wednesday loved to juxtapose.
within a week of her arrival at the orchestra, most of the ensemble had soaked up her off-putting, cold demeanour and accepted it well. or, as well as one could when the arguably best performer in the entire orchestra didn’t acknowledge anyone outwith necessity. one young man, with large rimmed glasses and curls on his forehead mustered the courage to speak to the raven haired woman at the water fountain.
“uh— wednesday? hi, sorry to disturb,” his hands were trembling, wednesday refrained from letting her lip twitch upwards. “i just wanted to say hi. i play the trombone, in case you didn’t know—“
“i do. your playing is adequate. as adequate as it can in a climate like this.”
“thank you? i think, what do you—“
“i thrive off of the deep rooted jealousy and competition in environments like this. you can almost smell it, eugene, (he squeaked, unsure of how the woman knew his name) it’s thick in the air, and i know most of the ensemble are upset with my confidence. it breeds more, to my advantage.”
eugene nodded messily, hanging onto every murmured word from the seer with intense recognition. he was small, far too meek for his talent, wednesday thought. she would tell enid of his presence, she would like him. oh how terribly she missed enid.
“some of us are heading to that jazz bar down the street after practice, if— if you’d like to—“
“regrettably, i have prior engagements i cannot miss. but your invitation is noted. i think we should return now.” she glanced to the door, watching as some of the ensemble slipped through it.
(wednesday wouldn’t know that when rehearsal was over and she had silently fled somewhat quickly, eugene would spot her outside the building walking almost hurriedly. the cello case followed closely behind her, and he didn’t pry as to how it was behind held up by a decapitated hand.
he watched with an almost morbid fascination as wednesday approached what could only be described as the sun to her moon, a hand snaking around the other’s waist and tugging her down for a kiss like they had been apart for a millennia. the faint murmur of “querida,” and a responding giggle, lips brushing against lips. eugene swallowed— he shouldn’t be seeing this. he brushed a curl from his vision and joined the brass group who were calling for him.)
(enid did eventually meet eugene, and the man was finally able to understand their dynamic from up close. it was after their spring performance, and enid had waved over at him with a sparkle in her eye and the satin in her dress moving with her. he’d been whisked into a hug as the were babbled about how excited she was to meet him, but regrettably all he could focus on was the way wednesday’s lips seemed to curl upward as she watched her lover talk. the seer acknowledged him with a nod and deceptively warm ebony eyes.
there was never a moment where wednesday didn’t have an arm tightly wound around the blonde’s waist, or fingertips skimming along the outline of her spine. too— it was hard to talk to the were without her eyes lingering to the raven haired woman as she spoke to another cellist about their performance. the wide lapel blazer and trousers she wore catching the eye of the trombone player too. enid was only human, and he couldn’t fault her wandering eyes.)
the addams girl never craved success in the same way most would, in return for fame or fortune. she craved recognition from the only few people she allowed herself to long for it from. seeing the were’s sparkling eyes from the best seat in the house, of course, and thunderous applause rivalling the sharp whistles from her father was more than enough for her. to speak into an existence where that wasn’t what awaited her was a nightmare that even her uncle fester wouldn’t face with open arms.
there had only been one time her sweet and caring enid had been truly upset with her.
a year and six months after graduating from nevermore, enid and wednesday had moved in together in an upstate apartment adorned with plant pots and foliage the addams couldn’t even glare at as she stomped up the steps because they had been planted and cared for so lovingly by her beloved. the were had become impatient with the need to see her friends (or as wednesday called them— her acquaintances ) and one afternoon came bustling into the study with a ferocious grin. “willa! clear your schedule for next friday, please, i’m having everyone over!”
her eye twitched. hands coming to rest on the sides of her typewriter as the seer looked up at her excited face. “i’m taking your expectance of me having plans with anyone except you as a compliment, mi soul.”
enid giggled, sitting atop the old oak wood. “don’t be silly. just make sure to remember, ‘kay? yoko said she’s looking forward to seeing you.” the seer huffed out a laugh, brow furrowing. “how strange.”
wednesday addams would like to defend that she did, in a true confession, mean to write it down in her meticulously detailed calendar. she did intend to join enid with her group of friends and listen half-heartedly to their overlapping conversations and muse every once and a while. however, after a tireless search for a publisher the raven had finally found a suitable fit and was met with disgusting enthusiasm for her novel. it filled her with something akin to pride.
the publisher had asked for a rough edit of her novel and admittedly she had been struggling to find a conclude that captured everything suitably. juggling that, along with the orchestra had proved difficult. and unfortunately, (it made her wince thinking about it) inspiration struck two hours before enid’s friends were due to arrive that friday night.
the were had come into the study a little hesitantly, hands holding the door with apprehension. “willa, remember everyone will be here for seven.” the clock ticked just past five, and merely wednesday nodded. then— at ten past seven she appeared again, a drink in her hand, “will i save you a seat?” carelessly, wednesday had murmured without lifting her head, “of course, querida. i won’t be much longer.”
at half ten the raven typed the last letters to conclude the novel. with a satisfied smirk, she dived into organising the pages accordingly with all necessary notes and formation. she was so absorbed in her study she didn’t even hear the boisterous laughter echoing from the living room.
it wasn’t until ten to one in the morning, when the apartment felt suddenly too quiet and the faint click of their bedroom door shutting did wednesday’s body run ice cold. her hands dropped the package she had been wrapping for the publisher. all but running into the bedroom, she found enid gathering her favourite pillow and blanket into her arms. “querida,” she started, moving around the bed to be closer to the were, “i— i apologise. time ran away from me, i had to finish my novel as soon as possible. that is not an excuse, though. i am so—“
“it’s fine, wednesday.” wednesday enid had said. she avoided eye contact, the seer almost felt like falling to her knees. her hand outstretched to hold the blonde, but she jerked away from the movement, sending a thrum of pain through her body. “i’m gonna sleep in my cozy, tonight.” she murmured, not sparing wednesday a glance as she jerkily nodded, “of— of course, mi soul.”
that night, wednesday understood what it felt like when people claimed to be ‘restless’. her body couldn’t stop jerking at any noise or creak of floorboards, mind racing between feeling guilty and conjuring a solution to remedy enid’s sullen state. the seer all but leaped out of bed when she realised what to do. her footsteps were as light as ever as she slipped into the study, searching in the darkness for enid’s laptop. her fingers danced above the keyboard, trying to remember how she had seen enid use it before. eyes glanced wearily to the closed door, addamses weren’t frightened easily— but wednesday knew the look her mother would give her father in certain situations. if enid caught her in the study again, and using her laptop without knowledge she was surely done for.
and when enid entered the kitchen that morning, weariness floating in the air, and asked: “why has everyone received a calendared invitation for brunch tomorrow morning?” wednesday turned away from her coffee mug to face the were with the most nonchalant expression she could muster.
“i realise my mistake from last night. and after a terrible night of deliberation with myself i thought it best for me to truly show you how remorseful i am by making the effort to connect with your— our… friends.”
a glint flickered in the blonde’s eyes, traces of discontent fading rapidly. wednesday felt the tension in her shoulders lower. especially when enid gathered her up into a crushing hug. her own arms came up to card through blonde, “i am so, so terribly sorry, querida. i hope you can forgive me.”
(what enid did not know, though, was that wednesday had reserved brunch at one of the most expensive cafe’s in the city. “mother and father greatly enjoy it here, i thought it fitting considering the circumstances.” the seer had shrugged when enid gaped at the lavish decor and price.
and when their friends arrived, with confused yet happy glances towards the two, wednesday acknowledged them all equally. offering a nod of familiarity to yoko who stared at enid expectantly.
and the were noticed a placard in the seer’s grip under the table, filled with unintelligable bullet points. it wasn’t until she caught that wednesday would look down with a skimming glance to the placard before asking a question or prompting conversation did enid realise that she had prepared conversation. wednesday— the woman who had avoided unnecessary conversation with anyone since first year— was asking divina about the job opportunity enid had mentioned offhandedly weeks ago.
a hand slid under the table to grasp the raven’s cool one. doe eyes stared into blue and enid smiled warmly, mouthing a sweet thank you with a squeeze. wednesday was most proud of herself. morticia would coo when enid would phone home.)
after that, wednesday made more of an effort with people. not only for enid’s sake— though it was sometimes the only way she could get through it, but for her own too. she realised she didn’t mind the company of others as badly as she thought. some mornings eugene would walk into rehearsal, sleep not fully gone from his eyes, when wednesday would thrust a hot coffee into his hand. “caramel latte, with whipped cream and clusters?” her brow raised, watching as eugene smiled gratefully and thanked her. “please, don’t thank me for that abomination. i hope it pleases you.”
more often than not, she could be found in the corner booth of a bar amidst enid and their friends, with eugene sat beside her as a new addition— to her request. the music was often loud, poppy and caused the seer to grit her teeth and take another sip of her red wine, but watching the way enid would usher a friend or two up to dance and sing along when a favourite would play made the pain durable and almost pleasant.
secretly, too— wednesday revelled in the attention enid would give her after roughly three drinks. sometimes only one and a half. the were would coo and pepper kiss after kiss on the highest point of her cheekbone, the tip of her nose and hair covering her forehead. to the untrained eye, it would appear that the seer was upset at the affection; with her tight gaze and clenched jaw. but they knew, most of all enid knew that it was only to rival the maroon dusting over her cheeks and the way her body subconsciously leaned into the touch.
herself, after four glasses of red (because the tolerance of an addams could not be any lower than zero point fourteen percent at her father’s request) would feel a little freer in her movements, reaching to gather enid’s claws in her hold to brush kisses against her skin or a bold hand on her thigh. the blonde would squirm when the hand would creep up further— but wednesday was holding intent conversation with eugene beside her. she’d whack lightly at the seer’s arm to stop, only to be ignored but the hand falling to rest over her warm skin. the faint smirk on wednesday’s face was enough to make her flush pink herself.
during the summer, when they would travel europe and wednesday wouldn’t be caught dead without her black parasol and sunglasses, enid would dote on her constantly. offering water, or a pit stop between sightseeing locations. during their trip to nice, the were sighed as she rested into her sunbed at a beach club. she laid on her side, greedily taking in the sight of wednesday’s caramel skin, darkened slightly more due to the sunlight and wearing a black swimsuit. a book was in her hand, and her hair was kept tidy in her signature braids amidst the summer heat.
(as they got older, wednesday continued to wear the braids, but much less often than before. “i insisted on wearing them because i did not want to be a carbon copy of my mother. but now i don’t feel that so much— and i know you like when my hair is down, too.” she had offered as an explaination when enid had asked one night with a brush in her hand, swimming through the silky dark strands with ease. she’d placed a kiss to the back of her head. “i think you look beautiful no matter what.” she murmured. a hand reached back to hold hers, “and you, querida. thank you.”)
—“did your mother not inform you how rude staring is?” the drawl of wednesday’s voice pulled enid out her daydream. she giggled, leaning closer to grab the spritz that had begun to condensate on the small table between them. “it’s not rude if its my fianceé~ “
ah— that too. ebony eyes flickered over to the small oval ring on the were’s left ring finger. it was a reletively new addition. enid had arrived home from work feeling rather tired and burnt out, only to find a marriage certificate on the coffee table, waiting. it had already been signed by wednesday, the ink aged and stark against the bare right side of the page where her signature would go.
“willa? where are— oh—“ she’d gasped, turning around to see wednesday right behind her with said ring neatly cushioned in a velvet box.
“i was going to kneel, but during practice thing felt it was unnatural. i hope this is okay.” wednesday muttered, warm gazing never leaving her trembling one.
“i love you, enid sinclair.” she had stated, clearly. “i love you more than my typewriter and the monotone of my wardrobe. i love you more than my fondest memories torturing pugsley in the drawing room. i love you more than life, enid.” and the were had burst into tears, grabbing at the raven with a wetly cried yes, yes, yes!
“i suppose.” wednesday hummed, closing her book to sit up and face enid. she quirked her lip before voicing her thought aloud: “are you excited? to get married— i mean.”
and enid had nodded feverishly, diving into all of her little plans and considerations for the big day. babbling about “and i know you’re really fond of collecting crime scene evidence, but could you please not use any of it for table decor?” — but later, when the sun had set and they both stared out to the sea after dinner, when enid turned to speak but the words died down in her throat because wednesday had her eyes peacefully closed: hair blowing slightly with the breeze and a new sprinkle of freckles dusting on her nose, enid swallowed the sight of her whole without a hiccup.
the night sky contoured her face spectacularly, encompassing the shadows of her and her lashes fluttering against her face and enid itched to retrieve her camera and savour the moment. however she feared any movement would disrupt the seer’s peaceful moment, and she merely twisted herself slightly more to stare comfortably at her love.
when wednesday had asked her earlier if she was excited to get married, enid had nervously thrust her first thoughts out. focusing more on the wedding day more than married life. the truth was that enid yearned to be married to wednesday. for much longer than she’d let on. enid couldn’t wait for the mornings that she would wake up and turn in their bed to see wednesday already up and getting ready— seeing her sleepy face and coming closer to brush a kiss to her lips as good morning as a wife.
and so if enid could do it over, go back in time to earlier in the day when wednesday had stared at her with those doe eyes ans asked if she was excited to get married enid would say yes— yes because she was marrying wednesday addams. and loving her came more natural to the were because it was like air to lungs, or fire to water.
because enid woke up every morning and chose to love wednesday, and it never felt like a chore. and she was certain that a ring on her finger would only solidify that more.