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I don’t why I keep coming back. It doesn’t really make sense, I could try and pretend it’s because I want to know the minute she wakes up so I can put my plan to kill her and Enid into action, but I know I’d be lying to myself. There’s just something about her that draws me in. I can't help myself, I can feel my clammy skin and feverish chills rack my body. I should be looking for a way to save myself and yet I am waiting for her mother to leave so I can slip inside her room.
Morticia comes and reads to her, hoping the comfort of old childhood horrors like the witch trials, Frankenstein or her current read Macbeth will finally get her to awake from what she and Gomez keep calling her nightmare vacation. Their insistence that she's enjoying herself anger me…or comfort me. I'm really not sure what outcome I'm hoping for at this point because all I can feel is dread and maybe a little despair when I see her like this.
“Come on Tish, visiting hours are over, it's time to head back home,” Gomez said as he came into the room.
“Oh Gomez I'm starting to worry she will never wake up. How is anyone going to be able to pull her way from her perfect nightmare” Morticia replied, closing her book and standing up to follow Gomez out.
“Cara Mia, don't fret so much out little hornets nest will awake when she sees fit. We just have to be here for her when she does”
“I just miss her scathing remarks so much, she's the only one who comes even close to you with her compliments”
I waited a few minutes just to make sure they were gone before I made my way into her room. She looks so relaxed and peaceful. It almost hurt to see her without the calm rage and rigid posture she constantly maintained. I reached out touching her jaw just to make sure I wasn't imagining her. It seemed so unreal. She was cold to the touch only a few degrees warmer than a corpse and it made the tumultuous feelings inside of me ease up just a little bit.
I know she hates me, I've certainly done enough for her to, with attacking Eugene, threatening Enid and hiding what I was from her. I hate her too… or at least I think I do. It all kind of gets muddled in my head. I can never really tell what my feelings are and what my master's are. Even now after I've killed her Marilyn’s feelings are all jumbled up with my own. But sometimes when I look at Wednesday I just feel a fluttering in my chest and a warmth spread across my bones. Even the Hyde underneath my skin seems to settle. In these moments I actually think it's something close to love.
I softly caressed her cheek wishing there weren't so many stitches marring her face. I can't help thinking she might like the new scars she's bound to have, but I hate them. Even more though I hate myself for giving her them. I lean down and kiss her forehead, being unable to help myself anymore. When I pull away I notice her eyes start to flutter like she's trying to open them.
My heart starts beating uncontrollably. Is she waking up? Oh God I can't be seen like this, I look like an addict on the verge of death from withdrawal. This is not how she was supposed to see me after I threw her out a window. I'm supposed to look strong and put together. Someone that will intimidate her so she will take me seriously and no longer see me as some lame joke.
“Tyler, are you okay?” in all my panicking I didn't notice she had actually woken up. She reached up, touching my forehead. “ You're burning up, lay down” she said so matter of factly I was left gaping like a fish. Like this was some normal occurrence and she had ever said something like that to me. “Close your mouth, you are not a fish” and she started pulling me down to the bed. Much stronger than I would ever expect from someone who has been in a coma for the last few weeks.
“Are you okay” I couldn't help asking even though of course she wasn't.
“Of course I am” she said like I was the weird one. Then she pulled me even closer to her, bringing my head down to lay on her chest.
“Wednesday you just woke up from a coma and are choosing to cuddle me, there's no way you're doing okay” I feel like maybe I have finally lost my mind and am slowly dying on the floor while my brain creates a nice illusion to distract me from it.
“I guess I just missed you.” I drew in a gasping breath at that. I must be dying, there is no other logical explanation. She missed me? Me? No one misses me. My dad didn't even miss me. He may have visited me once but that was due to some parental obligation to make sure the killer he just caught remained in custody. For Wednesday to feel something as mundane as missing someone let alone the someone being me feels unreal. I think the shock of it may have even stopped my fever. I feel warm for the first time since killing Marilyn. I thought I never would again. That I would die before I ever found a way to free myself from the freezing cold brought on by the fever of a dying man.
“No you don’t” why did I say that? “You hate me, why would you miss me?” Why did I say that?
“Just sleep Tyler, I don't have the energy for your insecurities today. Maybe tomorrow when we both feel better you can be insecure but not today. I already told you I like you” what does she mean like me? Why is she acting so normal, like we haven't been at each other's throats the last time we were near each other. Before I could ask her anything I felt her body relax and fall into a deep slumber. I slowly inched my way out of her grasp trying not to wake her so I could leave before she changed her mind about killing me.
I grabbed the stash of flowers I had hidden away for when she woke up and left them on the side table with a note saying ‘I miss you too. Until we meet again -T’.