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Wednesday Addams had never understood humanity’s obsession with seasonal celebration.
Decorating a dying tree and pretending it brought festive joy seemed, to her, like the peak of collective delusion.
Yet here she was—standing in the middle of Jericho’s Christmas tree lot, surrounded by the scent of pine and poor decision-making—because Tyler Galpin had said please with puppy eyes.
(And somehow, that had been enough.)
So here she was, standing tense and awkward in what looked like a giant tree cemetery.
Tyler, for his part, looked like he was in heaven—bouncing from tree to tree but never actually choosing one (that would be too easy), talking in a high-pitched voice like an excited child.
She was considering just leaving, doubting he’d even notice, when:
“What about this one?” he shouted from a few meters away, pointing at a tree that looked exactly like every other tree here.
She exhaled through her nose.
“I prefer this one,” she said, indicating a completely dead tree.
He looked at it. “But it’s dead.”
“Tyler, all of them are dead.”
He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m going to take the one I wanted to take.”
That could have been the end of the tree saga—except Tyler spotted another tree that was apparently even better. (She couldn't tell the difference, but whatever.)
“Wens, seriously—isn’t this one wayyy better?” he asked, eyeing both trees like it was a matter of national importance.
She honestly just wanted to leave, so she gave in.
“Yes. It is.”
She was not particularly proud of herself for that.
He finally paid a ridiculous amount of money for the dead tree and somehow managed to fit it into his car.
She sat in the passenger seat, more than ready to leave this place full of holiday cheer and far too many smiling people.
But he stopped before they reached his house.
“Why are you stopping?” she asked, already dreading the answer.
“I need new decorations for the tree,” he replied, getting out of the car and opening her door.
She stepped out, glaring at him with daggers in her eyes. He just smiled.
She stepped into the shop, which was, in her opinion, the very definition of hell: too many people and way too much color.
Her eyes widened in horror. Tyler looked down at her, grinning, and gently pushed her further inside with a hand on the small of her back, his smile devilish.
“You’re going to pay for this,” she warned.
“Can’t wait,” he teased, wandering off toward a display of hideous Christmas baubles.
He wasn’t even a little scared of her anymore, and that might’ve been the saddest thing about today.
When he was finally done picking out his decorations, she added a tiny guillotine to the pile. He paid for it with suspicious enthusiasm.
Back in the car, he started to drive.
“Want me to put on some Christmas music?” he asked, clearly teasing.
“Do that, and we may have an
unfortunate accident,” she replied flatly.
He just laughed, which made her half furious.. and half weirdly content.
“Aww, Wens, sorry. I know today wasn’t exactly your vibe. I’ll make you a quad when we get back,” he said, glancing at her with a soft smile.
He reached out and took her hand, the other still on the wheel. She let him—used to his clinginess by now—and allowed his warmth to settle in her palm.
The weird contentment won.
By the time they reached his house, snow had started falling harder, covering Jericho in a soft white blanket.
Tyler managed to drag the tree into the living room while she dropped the bag of decorations and followed him into the kitchen for her quad.
“This is disgusting,” she remarked, eyeing his hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows.
“No it’s not—you should try it,” he said, laughing and nudging the mug toward her.
“Absolutely not,” she answered, sipping her quad.
“Coward,” he teased, grinning.
She pinched him through his sweater—hard.
She kept sipping her coffee, sitting stiffly on his couch, while he decorated the tree with a lot of heart but not much skill.
Night fell early. The warmth of the room and his laughter as they talked slowly made her relax without realizing it.
He broke two ornaments and nearly fell by tripping on a tinsel garland, which was exactly the kind of chaos she liked to see.
When he finished, he handed her the tiny guillotine so she could place it herself.
She decided to put it on top of the tree where his father would be sure to notice.
“You can put it on the top,” she told him.
“Oh no, you’re supposed to do it—wait.” And suddenly his hands were on her waist, lifting her up.
She decided to kill him later and placed the guillotine.
When he set her down, she tried to pinch him hard enough to leave a lasting mark, but he dodged, laughing and backing away.
She grabbed a cushion and launched it at him—it missed. He dodged that too.
“Ha! You can’t hit me anymore—I know you too well!” he bragged, dodging another.
This day was so disrespectful.
He threw a cushion back at her, but his aim was tragic—it hit a lamp, which crashed to the ground and broke.
“Oh yes, clearly, you’re the superior one,” she said dryly.
Then, taking advantage of his shock, she threw the final cushion directly at him.
He ended up cleaning the mess hoping his dad wouldn’t notice. But, of course, he cut his finger during the cleanup and had to slap a bandage on.
She casually returned the cushions to the couch and sat down, watching him as he went back to his beloved tree.
“Get ready to be amazed,” he announced, plugging in the lights.
The tree lit up, warm and bright. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him, proud and glowing. The lights made his eyes brighter, his smile softer.
Warmth spread through her stomach before she could stop it.
“So?” he asked, turning to her.
“It’s not… as… awful as expected,” she muttered, looking away.
She hated herself right now.
He laughed and sat beside her, stretching his arms and yawning.
She leaned back too bumping his arm. What a weird thing to do.
She was mid-analysis of her own bizarre behavior when he took her hand again, playing with her fingers while still admiring the tree.
She looked up at him. He felt her gaze and looked back down, smiling—and leaned in to kiss her gently.
She instinctively moved her hand to his jaw. He smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss.
The tree was forgotten as he shifted slightly to pull her closer, one hand on her back. Everything faded away for a few moments.
He was completely high on her.
And she was quite fine ?
Until the door swung open and Donovan entered with Elvis.
Tyler jumped to his feet. Wednesday stood slowly, arms crossed.
“Geez. Don’t you have a room at that fancy school of yours?” the sheriff asked, clearly tired of finding her here again.
“Dad, did you see the tree we decorated?” Tyler jumped in, hoping to save her from saying something that would get her banned from his house forever.
“I did not decorate such a warm and happy tree,” she clarified.
The sheriff blinked at the sudden change of topic but looked at the tree anyway.
“Yeah, it’s nice. Is that a little Wednesday touch on top?” he asked, pointing at the guillotine.
“…Yes,” she muttered, ashamed.
The sheriff laughed—which was so out of character that Tyler stared at him worrying for his health, while Wednesday looked horrified.
“This kid always surprises me,” Donovan said, heading into the kitchen still chuckling.
Wednesday was deeply insulted.
“Aww, it’s okay. Come on, I’ll drive you back to Nevermore,” Tyler offered, trying not to laugh.
She glared at him but agreed.
Except..
“Tyler, why is the table lamp in a garbage bag?”
Tyler grimaced and tried to blame it on Elvis.
“Elvis was with me today,” the sheriff replied. “So you’re staying here and making dinner while I take Wednesday home.”
Tyler nodded, annoyed at the stupid punishment.
But she kissed him goodbye while his dad wasn’t looking, then walked to the car through the snow and he was fine.
He staid outside watching the car disappear down the street. He sighed contentedly, looking at the tree.
He knew he’d miss her in approximately five minutes,but for now, her scent lingered in the room,and he was still a little high on her.
Snow was still falling outside.
He smiled to himself as he started making dinner.