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They’d taken the steps up from their last class in unison – a tradition that had started easily the year before, a way for Enid to keep tabs on Wednesday without causing suspicion. She glanced at her companion, sour-faced as usual, eyes scanning the masses of students passing them, chatting away about the latest gossip. It was never about studies, Enid knew, and she tried to light-heartedly tease the girl at her side about their last class. Anatomy of Werewolves as a chapter in their biology class felt highly inappropriate, did it not?
“Learning the anatomy of any potential adversary has its advantages.”
“To murder, maim, or otherwise injure. Got it.”
Dark eyes flickered towards her momentarily. The obligatory eyeroll back. The look away as Wednesday went up the steps evenly beside her. Enid bounced naturally, the colors of her hair flapping ever so slightly as she moved. They pushed into their shared space, each drifting towards their own side to strip themselves of the uniforms in favor of more comfortable clothes.
Enid passed a glance at the way Wednesday methodically removed and hung each item, one at a time. Piece for piece. Never exposing more than flash of pale skin before black jogger pants and a black and white striped oversized knitted sweater engulfed her almost entirely. She stood in her undergarments at the edge of her own bed, hands rummaging, mouth twisting, trying to create her ensemble.
Wednesday’s eyes were on her, she could always feel them, a twinge of embarrassment as she turned slowly and saw her focused back on her books, taking them to settle atop her desk. Thing was turned around, settled just underneath the light, tapping his fingers as Enid hurriedly pulled on bright pink sweats and a white T-Shirt, seeing Thing slowly turn back and give her a thumbs up before Wednesday quietly scolded him.
Studying, dinner, a few songs on her cello in the music room, and then her hour of writing her new novel before readying for bed. It was a routine Enid had gotten used to, she planned her night around it. Timed the spaces where she could reach out to interact, or interrupt. She’d once invited herself into the music room to dance to a piece she was playing – something Wednesday seemed both intrigued and distracted by, eventually requesting that Enid… not.
Yoko and Divina had been amused by it all. They hadn’t understood when she’d tried to explain it was simple courtesy, learning where she could fit into Wednesday’s life. They’d laughed and asked to see her notes. Then they’d laughed at her notes. Enid had frowned down at the paper, color coded and neatly written, little doodles and highlighted words.
“And they were roommates,” Yoko had whispered, much to Divina’s satisfaction.
Turning pages, buried in concentration, Wednesday couldn’t see Enid fidgeting at her own desk, mind turning over the words. They’d been said over a year before and yet they continued to plague her with their implication. Enid wanted to be included in her friend’s escapades, but she also wanted to be involved in her everyday life.
They were friends, she told herself.
Best friends.
“Enid, your wolf is so your metaphor,” Divina had told her in a hushed tone, catching her in a daydream during lunch in the new quad, eyes glazed over in Wednesday’s direction where she stood barking orders at Agnes.
“For what?” Enid’s words had been stuttered and she’d tipped over her Furracino, sending the colorful drink into the grass. Divina had only chuckled and given her shoulder a small pat before walking away, leaving Enid flustered and… having lost sight of the raven-haired girl that had become the unwilling focus of her subconscious.
Wednesday sketched sometimes, pencil scratching hastily at paper with an occasional grumble of frustration or gasp of surprise, today it was the latter, and then the page was ripped out and crumpled, tossed into the trash. The succession of sounds were sharp enough to make Enid’s ears perk up as she sat at her own desk staring at the skeletal structure of a human and then the matching skeleton of a werewolf.
She was thankful for the interruption in her thoughts – how her own muscles and bones and organs transformed from one form to the other, painfully. How Wednesday had stared into her eyes the first time she’d transformed. Transfixed as though her monster form were something to behold. Something almost… beautiful.
“Enid,” Wednesday warned. “The tapping.”
Her fingers automatically stopped, her pencil held tightly within her thumb and index and she muttered an apology. Enid looked back at her book and turned a page slowly, seeing the drawing of a male and female anatomically correct figure and then their corresponding wolf. Her cheeks burned as her eyes darted across the room. Wednesday had seen both, in the woods as a wolf and in the infirmary as herself.
Wednesday had cleaned her body thoroughly as she’d sat shell shocked in a tub in the back corner, curtain drawn around them, encasing them in their own world. She’d refused to let anyone else tend to her or her wounds. “Enid is mine to care for tonight,” she’d growled at a nurse and the words had settled warmly around Enid’s heart.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stitch these?” Wednesday had asked her, exhaustion making her voice almost soothing as her fingers trailed around the cuts on her face to bring her hair behind her ear. She lingered at her jaw before pulling her hand away as Enid drooped forward.
Wanting her caress more than anything, Enid felt weak for that. Foolish. Wednesday Addams had relented and given in to holding her not long before. She’d gone through the mental gymnastics to convince herself that Wednesday needed to be held as much as Enid needed to be held in that moment after the events of that night. She knew that moment might never come again given that both had come so close to death, something they would actively avoid in the future.
Enid accepted that truth.
“I’ll heal,” Enid had whispered in response, seeing the way Wednesday’s brow had softened as she nodded, lips pressed together, licking them quickly. Something important on her mind, Enid could tell. Something she would maybe never tell her.
Enid accepted those secrets too.
On the third week of summer, Enid had received the first typed letter delivered to her door, wrapped with a thin strip of twine and sealed with a black wax marked with a simple WA. It was hard to read and she’d had to pluck an old dictionary out from her father’s library to get through it. When she reached the bottom, her fingers had traced across the words “Yours, Wednesday” twice and she’d felt an odd tug behind her belly button and the urge to howl before stifling it and staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.
Her letter back had been written with the only black pen she could find in her mother’s dresser, on a sheet of paper pulled from their copy machine. She’d detailed her upcoming wolf camp adventure, her brothers antics, and her mother’s odd behavior around her – more welcoming than before, but with the same level of rigidity. Enid knew Wednesday would understand. In closing, she’d stared, pen hovering over the paper, unsure.
“Yours, Enid.”
Was she hers? Was she hers?
Did Wednesday understand those concepts? Of course she had to, Enid thought, turning slightly at her desk to watch Wednesday’s back as she sketched again. Her mother and father were Gomez and Morticia Addams – Wednesday had to have an idea of what romantic love could be like. Moreso than Enid felt she had herself.
She had butterflies in her stomach and flowery thoughts in her head, both put there with increasing frequency by her roommate. But none of that could be reciprocated by the pale figure illuminated by the simple light a few feet from her – right? Wednesday ripped at the paper with another huff of air and dropped it into the waste basket, Thing making his way to the edge to peer over before tapping at Wednesday’s shoulder, asking her what was wrong.
“It’s wrong,” Wednesday stated coldly. Thing shifted and Enid couldn’t see what he signed as Wednesday straightened in the chair and seemed to freeze. “I’ve already seen both,” Thing shifted back quickly, seemingly shocked, “That’s how I know it’s wrong!”
“Can I help with anything?” Enid chanced to ask, seeing Thing scamper to the edge of the desk and drop into the waste basket. He grabbed hold of one of the balls of paper before Wednesday reached swiftly to grab him and hold him in place, struggling to rip the paper from him before dropping him to the floor without it.
Enid watched him stomp his way to the little refuge she’d made for him. He slammed the lid shut, then reopened it to offer her a point towards Wednesday, before slamming it again twice.
“It’s nothing of importance,” Wednesday stated gruffly, closing her books and beginning to pack them away. “I’m heading down to the commissary before it closes, care to join?”
Standing, Enid watched how Wednesday was pushing her waste basket to the side of her desk and how she stood deathly still there, waiting for Enid’s answer. Even more still, somehow, than usual. Going down to have dinner together was a regular occurrence, more so this year than the one before, and Enid enjoyed how she would listen to all of her pent up energy escaping in a wizardry of words, occasionally offering a quip or a curious look. A threat against someone who had wronged her that always made Enid laugh.
If she was lucky, there were a myriad of questions, akin to an investigation, that Enid took as conversation. Showing interest in mundane school gossip or personal introspection. Wednesday’s words of criticism were often helpful once the hurting ended. Today she wondered how she would feel if she were to ask her the question she’d been thinking for months.
How would you feel if I should try to kiss you?
The single thought made her heartbeat thump faster and she knew if Wednesday had her werewolf senses, the way they’d been growing stronger since she’d wolfed out, she would be able to hear it the way Enid could hear Wednesday’s heart beating… faster than normal. Curiously, Enid looked to the waste basket and back to Thing’s little apartment and she took a few tentative steps across the room.
Yes, she thought to herself, I can definitely hear her heartbeat now.
Growing faster.
Enid frowned and saw it mirror on Wednesday’s face. The other girl shook the concern away and asked quickly, “Are you coming, or not?”
With a small nod of her head, Enid took three more steps and then a long breath, looking over Wednesday slowly, almost provocatively, eyes stopping at her lips for far too long before meeting her eyes. “What were you having trouble with?”
Looking to the right, hands balled at her sides, Wednesday again stated, “Nothing of importance.”
“Seemed fairly important from the other side of the room,” Enid challenged, head tilting, arms hanging loose at her sides, fingers tingling slightly with a ravenous want rising in her gut to shake hands with the intrigued need simmering down from her mind.
Wednesday’s cheeks were beginning to go pink and she huffed, turning away from the growing tension with a simple, “I’ll just bring something back for you, Enid.”
Catching her by her wrist, Enid spun her quicker than Wednesday could react and their lips met with a united soft moan. Fingers gripped at Enid’s wrist then and she felt herself being swung, a full circle in the air before dropping roughly against her back. Wednesday straddled Enid at mid-thigh, one hand around each of her wrists against Wednesday’s thighs, pinning her as she stared down at her.
Enid didn’t apologize.
She breathed roughly, staring up at Wednesday as she rewound the moment in her head, having the feel of her soft lips in her memory now and the way that small escape of her voice had sent a wave of dizziness through her head that muted all notion of self-preservation. She smiled and a giggle bubbled up from inside of her and she tilted her head back, laughing quietly as she listened to Wednesday’s breathing, her heartbeat drumming mightily in tune with her own.
The weight atop her shifted and she expected to feel coldness and hear scolding threats, but instead Wednesday was moving closer, hesitantly. Enid stilled and looked to her curiously, seeing the way her roommate was now studying her face and the way her chest was rising and falling with each breath.
Wednesday inched forward and kissed her softly and her chest went cold. Lifting her head slightly, Enid whimpered with the need for her to deepen the kiss to know if her own desires were merely superficial youthful curiosity, or if – as Divina had sighed – she’d been repressing some part of herself alongside that wolf who came out for Wednesday.
Releasing her wrists, Wednesday’s palms dropped to the floor on either side of Enid’s head and Enid lifted her hands to Wednesday’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer as she parted her lips for another kiss. Obliging Enid’s curiosity, Wednesday opened herself to her and Enid couldn’t help the soft sigh she released, feeling the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins then, tickling at all of her nerves deliciously. It felt like an eternity in a moment, breathing in Wednesday’s scent and reveling in the thought of being marked by her in this way.
Wednesday slipped back and their lips popped apart, leaving them breathing roughly into each other’s faces, their bangs lifting and falling each time. Enid smiled and she saw the shadow of a dimple in Wednesday’s cheek before she hid it away again, telling her on a whisper, “Next time, just ask.”
Standing, Wednesday took a step away as Enid clamored up. Nodding shyly and swallowing roughly, Enid tried to sooth her body of the buzz strumming up and down in a way that made her warm and sleepy. Touching her lips, Enid knew definitively, these feelings weren’t whimsy.
“Commissary?” Wednesday asked simply, as though her mind were malfunctioning, Enid could tell, listening to her heart still racing as she stood there calmly.
With a crooked smile, Enid shook her head and admitted, “I’m actually not that hungry anymore.”
“Something for later then?” The question came with an upward tilt of Wednesday’s chin and Enid could see the red blushing up from her collar.
Nodding lazily at the question, Enid watched as Wednesday turned, feet not moving for a moment before she quickly walked from the room, leaving Enid standing in a state of bliss before she did a twirl and then looked at the waste basket.
Curiously, she approached it and plucked up one of the balled-up papers Wednesday had been sketching on and she unfurled it, staring down at the drawing looking back at her. She’d redone the textbook anatomy sketches of woman and wolf, but Enid recognized the young woman and the new wolf. Crossing back to her side of the room, she straightened the sketch and then folded it, tucking it into her desk drawer with a smug grin.
Absolutely yours, Wednesday Addams.