Work Text:
The bell above the bakery door jingled faintly every now and then, though today, no one seemed to care.
Outside, the snow was relentless, coating the streets in thick, swirling white, and inside, the warmth of ovens and the faint scent of sugar created a world entirely separate from the storm.
Enid tapped her fingers on the counter to Paper Rings playing over the speakers, spinning lightly on her heels. Her apron was dusted with flour, loose strands of her hair falling over her forehead as she hummed along to the tune.
“I swear,” her coworker grumbled from behind the register, “who even comes out in this weather? We’re basically just existing here.”
“Existing is def the word,” Enid giggled, twirling again to get a better reach on the tray of pastries cooling on the counter. “But hey, on the bright side—” she leaned in conspiratorially, faint flour dusting her nose, “—all these pastries aren’t going to waste. They’re mine to take home. And you know who’s going to be very happy about them?”
Her coworker rolled her eyes, half amused, half exasperated. “Let me guess… the girl you live with?”
“Bingo,” Enid said with a grin, her thoughts already racing to the warmth of their apartment.
Wednesday had that rare soft smile reserved for milk chocolate pastries, and Enid lived for it. No matter how stoic Wednesday could be, one perfectly baked, chocolate-filled treat could brighten her day.
And today, with the snow piling up outside, Enid was determined to be the reason her girlfriend smiled.
Time passed slowly. Customers trickled in like stray snowflakes—a grumpy old man for a coffee, a kid dragging a parent inside for a christmas themed cupcake—but mostly, the bakery was quiet.
Too quiet.
Enid spent most of it arranging trays, polishing surfaces, and daydreaming about skipping home.
And finally, her shift ended.
With a sigh of relief, Enid grabbed a bag, placed a bunch of pastries inside, clocked out, and bundled herself in her coat.
The moment the door opened to the storm outside, she was hit with the wind and snow, cold biting at her cheeks, icy crystals settling in her hair and beanie.
But that didn’t matter. Today, she had a mission: run home, and see Wednesday’s rare, quiet smile.
.
By the time Enid burst through the apartment door, snow melting off her coat and streaking the hardwood floors, she was a whirlwind of energy. Her sneakers left small wet prints as she kicked them off, shaking out her coat.
Wednesday’s eyes widened fractionally, not in alarm, but in the rare flicker of startled attention Enid adored so much.
“Wednesday!” Enid chirped, barreling forward before Wednesday could even react. She grabbed her jaw with both hands, pressing rapid, cold kisses to Wednesday’s face, her happy giggles filling the room.
Finally, she pressed her lips to Wednesday’s, now warm and insistent, melting the chill of the winter storm outside.
Then, with a flourish, she shoved the bag of pastries into Wednesday’s face. “Milk chocolate! Your favorite!” Enid exclaimed, melted snow dripping from her hair, leaving tiny wet spots on the rug. Somewhere in her excitement, her beanie flew across the room.
Wednesday blinked at the bag, then back at her girlfriend, letting the chaos wash over her.
The bag was full of perfectly baked goods: chocolate croissants, gooey brownies, and tiny milk chocolate tarts. Her lips twitched in a way Enid recognized as approval.
“You risked frostbite… carrying these?" Wednesday asked slowly, voice low, measured, though faint amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Yes!” Enid beamed, bouncing slightly, fingers brushing snow out of her hair. “I had to! We had soooo many leftover pastries cause of the weather today.”
Wednesday simply stared, a faint exhale escaping her lips as she gently set the bag down on the kitchen counter.
Enid disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, reemerging not even two minutes later in Wednesday’s The Cure shirt, loose pants, fuzzy socks pulled high over her ankles, and a single butterfly clip holding her damp hair back.
“Do I look cute enough?” she asked, spinning slightly, her energy bubbling even after running through the snowstorm’s chill.
“Always,” Wednesday muttered, somewhat shyly.
Enid squealed, launching herself onto the couch beside her. “I call dibs on chocolate croissants first!”
As minutes passed, the storm continued to roar on—gusting winds rattling the windows, flakes whirling like confetti thrown by an overenthusiastic sky.
But inside, wrapped in the cozy glow of the orange light and shared warmth, the world felt impossibly small.
Enid shifted slightly in Wednesday’s arms, her cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the hoodie. She tilted her chin up, nose brushing against Wednesday’s jaw.
The contact pulled Wednesday from her quiet thoughts, dark eyes lowering to her girlfriend’s bright, expectant ones.
“What,” Wednesday asked, monotone—but her fingers subtly tightened along Enid’s waist.
Enid’s grin widened at that tiny tell. “Nothing,” she murmured, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Wednesday’s lips. “Just love you.”
Wednesday blinked. Once. Twice.
Then she tipped her head down to chase Enid's lips back. Slow. Delicate. Like she was memorizing softness itself.
Enid melted instantly, arms looping around Wednesday’s neck to draw her closer. The kiss lingered longer than any greeting should—warm breaths mixing, lips brushing again just because neither wanted to stop.
When they parted, Enid let out a light sigh and rested her forehead against Wednesday’s.
“You’re cold,” she mumbled.
“You are as well,” Wednesday countered.
Enid giggled, the sound featherlight. “Only a little.”
Wednesday’s gaze slipped down to the damp ends of Enid's cotton candy dyed hair and the band tee she wore—Wednesday’s band tee—and the tiny puddle forming beneath her on the couch.
“You are going to catch hypothermia. Or pneumonia. Or both,” Wednesday muttered, yet her thumb brushed along Enid’s wrist in soft contradiction to her stern tone.
“I’ll be fiiiiiine,” Enid sang, wriggling closer for emphasis. She nudged Wednesday’s nose with hers. “Besides, kissing me helps. It adds warmth.”
Wednesday stared at her. “That is not how medicine works.”
Enid pecked her lips once, twice—Wednesday’s breath catching almost imperceptibly.
“It is now,” Enid whispered.
Wednesday’s cheeks flushed the faintest shade of pink—victory.
Enid sat up just enough to grab the pastry bag again, rummaging through it with a mischievous glint. “Want another, baby?”
Wednesday’s face remained impassive, but her hand quietly reached for a milk chocolate tart—her favourite—but no one had to know that.
Enid handed it over, watching with sparkling anticipation as Wednesday took a slow bite.
A soft exhale, eyes closed.
Barely noticeable.
But Enid saw it.
“There it is,” Enid whispered, chest swelling. “Your happy face.”
Wednesday opened one eye to glare (lightly). “If you tell anyone I have such a thing, you will never see it again.”
Enid’s giggle was small and warm. “Your secret’s safe. But only because I want to keep seeing it.”
Wednesday took another bite, and Enid raised a finger to the corner of Wednesday’s mouth, catching a tiny bit of melted chocolate on her thumb. She licked it away with a hum.
Wednesday looked at her like she was ridiculous.
Enid looked at Wednesday like she was perfect.
After pastries came cocoa—Enid insisting on extra marshmallows, Wednesday insisting marshmallows were “unnecessary sugar blobs with no structural integrity.”
They compromised, three marshmallows, purely for aesthetic reasons... as Wednesday claimed while secretly letting one dissolve just so she could taste the sweetness in her next sip.
A fuzzy christmas blanket was draped over both of them now, Enid half on Wednesday, knees tucked against her side. Wednesday’s fingers treading slowly through Enid’s slightly frizzy hair, lingering on the butterfly clip.
“You are a menace,” Wednesday said softly.
“And you love me,” Enid replied matter-of-factly.
“Unfortunately,” Wednesday murmured—but there was no bite behind the word. Only affection disguised as exasperation.
Enid’s heart melted all over again.
She straightened her back slightly to lean forward, kissing the tip of Wednesday’s nose, causing a subtle scrunch that was totes adorable.
Then another kiss to her cheek. And another to her forehead. And finally to her lips, where she lingered—slow, warm, steady.
Wednesday kissed back.
When they broke apart, breath still mingled, Enid whispered into the soft space between them,
“So.. can we go christmas shopping tomorrow?”
Wednesday brushed a stray curl behind Enid’s ear, fingertips gentle.
“I suppose I can tolerate one more festive tradition."
Enid beamed.
The storm continued to rage on outside, piling snow against the world.
But inside—there was Enid's giggles, pastry crumbs, hot cocoa, and soft kisses.
Inside, there was them.
Wrapped in warmth.
Wrapped in love.
Wrapped in a cozy snow day that felt incredibly sugary.
It was just the way Wednesday secretly liked it. And only Enid knows that.