Work Text:
Outside the windows of Nevermore Academy, the autumn wind chased colorful leaves through the darkness. Wednesday and Enid were trying to spend their evening catching up on the leisure time they lacked during the day. Wednesday sat at her desk, scratching notes into her diary.
"We are expected to submit that botany essay tomorrow," she remarked toward Enid, who was sketching on her bed.
"What? But that’s not due until the 30th…"
"That is tomorrow," Wednesday retorted drily.
"Shoot!" Enid flopped back onto her bed.
"It is merely botany. You usually write it an hour before class anyway."
"It’s not about botany," Enid mumbled into her pillow. "We were supposed to find a job for our Outreach Program assignment by the end of the month."
"I assume it must be among normies." Wednesday cast a glance over her shoulder.
"Well, technically we have until the first," Enid tried her bright, sharp smile, "but yeah, we only have two days left. And it’s a team project."
"And we are on a team together... Could you not have informed me sooner?"
"Well, you were gone and I really wanted to tell you," Enid traded her smile for puppy-dog eyes, "it just slipped my mind."
"What are the requirements?" Wednesday shifted into analytical mode.
"We just have to find a job among normies for six weeks. Just a part-time gig. In pairs, so we learn how to 'blend in'..."
"Is that all?"
"Mhmm," the werewolf nodded. "It won’t be hard. We still have two days," she said, as if it were nothing.
— — —
The glass doors of the establishment clicked shut behind Wednesday. A moment later, Enid burst out after her, breathless.
"Hey, Wed!" she called out. "We almost got that job!"
The only response was a poker face and silence.
"I think she took your comment personally. You didn't have to say anything!"
"I refuse to sell botanical corpses," Wednesday stated.
"I would’ve expected something else from you, of all people," the blonde countered.
"Leave the flowers out of this. The fact that my mother enjoys them is irrelevant. You were not particularly helpful either. 'Could we watch one more animated movie, please?'" Wednesday parodied Enid’s question from the previous interview.
"Showing enthusiasm for films could’ve been appreciated in a cinema!" Enid snapped. "You only managed to show enthusiasm at the funeral home, and even then, you scared the owner half to death."
"It would have been the ideal position for me," Wednesday replied coldly.
"We’ve been everywhere! No other places have openings. This is our last chance. You can't ruin this or they’ll kick us out of school!" Enid was on the verge of tears.
"What is the establishment?" the dark-haired girl asked with a sigh.
"A cat cafe," Enid sobbed in response.
"Pardon?"
"A cat cafe," she repeated more clearly. "At the end of Salem Lane. But you can’t ruin it. I don’t want us to get expelled," Enid continued to whimper.
"Fine. We shall secure the position," Wednesday assured her, having no idea what she had just promised her friend.
— — —
"You aren't allergic to cats, are you?" the owner of The Fluffy Dream cat cafe asked.
"Oh, no, not at all," Enid smiled cautiously, trying not to show too much of her teeth. Wednesday merely gave a slight shake of her head.
"Well, good. I need some help anyway. Looking after this many cats is a lot for one person. And you’re from that local boarding school? It’s so lovely to see young people taking an interest in animals."
During the interview, a few cats padded around the girls, sniffing and inspecting them.
The proprietor asked a few more questions, and once she seemed satisfied with the answers, she offered to show them how the cafe worked. They even got to try the espresso machine right away.
"You have to keep an eye on the cats—or rather, the customers, so they don’t pull on them too much. But otherwise, it’s peaceful work," Mrs. Miranda concluded the tour.
"We require a signature for the school to confirm our employment," Wednesday handed her the document.
"Of course. Let’s see... internship confirmation... Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams. Location: The Fluffy Dream cat cafe, 42 Salem Lane. Signed, Miranda Shade. There you go, girls. See you on Saturday!" She returned the completed form.
Enid and Wednesday said their goodbyes, gave the curious cats a final pat, and headed back to school through the falling darkness.
"See? We got the job," the blonde nudged her companion.
"Hmph," Wednesday grunted, disinterested.
"I don’t know what we would’ve done if you’d said something again, but we’re in."
"I, however, am surprised the cats are not afraid of you," Wednesday retorted.
"Hey! I'm not a dog, you know," Enid barked back playfully.
— — —
Saturday morning brought an early wake-up call for the students of Nevermore. The chaotic, extroverted existence was pulled from bed by the prospect of a sunny day, while the sleeping nightmare would have preferred to hide back under the covers—or perhaps in a coffin. Especially after seeing the sheer enthusiasm with which Enid rose.
"Cats, cats, cats," the blonde sang as she flitted around the room, getting ready for her first shift.
Black eyes watched her from over the edge of the duvet with an even darker gaze.
"We’re gonna pet cats!" Enid lunged toward Wednesday, who was still attempting to feign sleep. "I’m so excited!"
"And brew coffee," the ambushed girl muttered grumpily.
"Get up, or we’ll be late!" Enid tried to yank the duvet away.
"You would have to release me first..."
"Oh," the werewolf realized. "Sorry." She hopped off Wednesday’s bed and scurried to the mirror to do her makeup and hair.
As they were about to leave, Enid looked seriously at Wednesday.
"You have to leave him at home."
"An extra hand is always useful," the dark-haired girl replied nonchalantly.
"Wed, we’re supposed to blend in with normies," she whispered. "I know you want to go and scratch some cats, but Mrs. Miranda will be there and I don't want trouble on the first day."
Thing made a gesture indicating he didn't care, drummed his fingers on the table, and ran off to flip through a book.
The girls arrived at the cafe shortly before opening. Inside, the owner was waiting with a kind smile and a cup of coffee.
"Good morning, girls! Are you ready for your first shift?" she chirped cheerfully.
"Good morning, Mrs. Miranda!" Enid replied with equal enthusiasm.
Wednesday merely mumbled a greeting and took the offered apron.
"Before we open, you must always tend to the cats first—refill their fountains, clean the litter boxes, and of course, prepare the cafe. Turn on the machine, bring out the cakes, and finally, let the cats in and open up," she listed the morning steps. "I won't be here every time; once you learn the ropes, you'll be able to handle it yourselves."
Most things were already prepared for the day, so they mainly watched the owner as she explained the inner workings of the cafe, showing them recipes for special drinks and coffee preparation. Whenever a cat crossed their path, she introduced them, explaining their quirks—who liked being scratched behind the ears, who stole whipped cream from mugs, and who specifically sought out people with allergies.
— — —
Over the following days, shifts at the cat cafe became a routine. Enid was thrilled and didn't mind returning to the dorm covered in fur. She enthusiastically listed the menu to visitors, made cat art on cappuccinos, and spent every free moment cuddling the residents.
While Enid never missed a chance for contact with the furry darlings, Wednesday remained distant. She spent most of her time behind the bar while her blonde colleague hovered around the customers.
"You really should put the apron on," Enid said, glancing at the girl in black.
Wednesday gave her a look that said everything.
"I know you don't wear colors, but you should wear it. It actually looks quite nice, even if it's just white," the blonde pleaded with her eyes.
"It is white, not black. Therefore, I shall not wear it," Wednesday turned away and began stacking cups.
"Wed," she sighed. "We work in a cafe. It’s our uniform."
"No. I will not," she didn't even look at her. "We have been here for over a week and no one has complained."
"But—"
"Not even Mrs. Miranda," Wednesday added, seeing her about to protest further.
Eventually, Enid shook her head and went back to the cats. Wednesday continued systematically organizing the bar area when she noticed a pair of yellow eyes watching her from the top shelf.
"At least you understand my refusal of the apron," she remarked to the piercing gaze.
A jet-black tomcat jumped down from his high perch onto the bar, inspecting her. Wednesday usually treated the cats with coldness, but this creature looked so... intelligent. And aesthetically pleasing. Sleek black fur, an elegant body, a piercing stare. Perhaps she could tolerate this one.
"Dark allies in a marshmallow kingdom... that would suffice," she whispered to herself as her furry friend lightly brushed against her hand.
Suddenly, Enid skipped back, breaking the moment.
"One cinnamon cat-puccino and a vanilla cake with raspberries!" She waved a slip of paper in front of her.
The black cat vanished into safety.
"I shall prepare it," Wednesday took the slip.
"Okay, but it has to be a-dor-a-ble," Enid syllabled the instructions emphatically. "I’ll get the cake."
"Naturally."
The werewolf ballerina drifted off again. Wednesday sighed. "As if there were not enough 'adorable' things in this place already."
"Mrrm," a sound came from atop the cabinet.
She looked up, meeting those yellow eyes again.
"You are adorable too, do not think otherwise," she smirked back at him.
— — —
Despite everything in the cafe being as "adorable" and sweet in appearance as it was in taste, Wednesday found herself actually looking forward to her shifts. It was not because of the establishment itself, or the normies; she realized she simply enjoyed spending time in Enid’s presence. They lived together and shared classes, but here, in this sugar-coated den of fur, it was different. They were doing something purposeful together. While it mostly made sense to Enid,
Wednesday had grown accustomed to the hum of the espresso machine, the bitter aroma of the beans, and that one furry companion who rarely left the bar. Whenever she had a free moment, she watched Enid. She observed her through the stacks of cups and the cat trees—watching her talk to guests, serve treats, and pet the cats. She liked that view. And it was her view alone; no one else needed to know.
"You should serve the customers too," Enid said one day.
"Pardon?" Wednesday snapped back to reality.
"I mean, I don't mind, but I’d love to learn how to make coffee like you... you don't even have to look at what you're doing anymore."
Wednesday looked down at the cup she was holding; she truly hadn't been paying attention to the preparation. Her hands knew the motions by heart. Unlike Thing, whom she had brought along once, only to end up fixing orders he had customized to his own eccentric taste. Enid had to apologize to about a hundred people that day.
"Please," Enid pleaded with puppy-dog eyes.
"Very well," Wednesday sighed. It brought her no joy, but if it would make Enid happy...
"Thank you, thank you!" Enid bounced with excitement. "The machine is mine!"
Wednesday merely sighed, took the menu, and headed out among the guests.
— — —
"What can I get you?" Wednesday asked the customers coldly.
"I’d like one cat-puccino and a ham sandwich," the woman ordered while flipping through the menu.
"We do not serve ham sandwiches," Wednesday announced robotically.
"Oh. And what am I supposed to do about that?"
"I suppose you will have to order something else," she retorted.
"Fine. Just bring me the cheese one."
Wednesday gave a single nod, snatched up the menu, and marched back to Enid at the bar.
"Could you please take these orders to the back table?" Enid asked.
"What is... this?" The dark-haired girl stopped, staring at the finished drinks.
"A cat-puccino and a kitty-cocoa with whipped cream," Enid replied, confused.
Wednesday sighed. "You are overdoing the decorations. It is supposed to look like a cat, not an explosion in a candy factory."
"I’m trying to make it cute!" Enid snapped.
"It is atrocious."
"While your coffees look like they’re attending a funeral, at least I’m trying!" Enid shot back.
"Irrelevant," Wednesday concluded, taking the cups overflowing with marshmallows and delivering them to the tables.
Serving people frustrated her all afternoon. Enid continued making excessively sugary drinks, and Wednesday even had to stop a customer from feeding a cat cheese from a sandwich. She did not exactly improve the cafe's atmosphere that day, and when they counted the till at closing, the takings were low and the tips were significantly thinner than usual.
As the last customers left and they began cleaning up, a cat-puccino with a delicate cat motif appeared on the bar in front of Enid. From the other side of the room, Wednesday watched her. Though she rarely showed emotion, her gaze carried a clear message: 'I am sorry.'
Enid spent the night thinking about Wednesday. What was that? Wednesday didn't show emotions often, but it felt like the more time they spent in the cafe, the more she was softening. Enid had seen her communicating with that one black cat—Pluto—who clearly disliked people but allowed Wednesday to pet him. For a goth, that was highly unusual. And Wednesday was being kinder to her, too—leaving orders ready in the exact sequence and even making her "special" drinks a bit more "adorable" than before. Enid rolled over in bed to look at her. And those glances across the bar? Surely she wasn't imagining them... but perhaps she was just seeing what she wanted to see. She had grown so used to her; they were like opposite poles of a magnet. But did Wednesday feel the same? With that thought, the werewolf fell asleep, unaware that similar thoughts were swirling in the head in the neighboring bed.
— — —
After the disastrous day, they swapped back. Wednesday returned to the bar, and Enid to the floor. It was one of those hectic days where several groups arrived at once. Enid couldn't keep up with taking orders, and Wednesday was struggling to fill them. The cats, sensing the chaos, got under everyone’s feet. The once-tidy bar turned into a battlefield stained with whipped cream and chocolate. Just as Wednesday went to the fridge for more cream, Enid rushed over.
"Please, I need two regular lattes, one cat-puccino, and one kitty—" she stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening at Thing, who gave her a thumbs-up. "What is he doing here?"
"I decided we required an extra hand," Wednesday said simply as she returned. "Pardon me, a Thing," she added when she saw his disapproving gesture.
"I guess you're right," Enid said frantically. "So, I need—"
"Two lattes, a cat-puccino, and a kitty-cocoa," Wednesday finished for her.
"Yeah, thanks!" Enid smiled, grabbed the previous orders, and vanished among the tables.
"Thank you," Wednesday nodded to Thing, who gave another thumbs-up and returned to the machine.
The busy day finally wound down. There were so many dishes that Wednesday was sure Mrs. Miranda would have to bake double the cakes for tomorrow. Everyone, including the cats and Thing, looked relieved that the day was over.
Wednesday was cleaning the bar and washing the dishes Enid brought from the tables. The cats enjoyed their newfound freedom from being petted and photographed. Unfortunately, exhaustion was setting in. Enid didn't notice the ginger cat—lacking a single brain cell—that stopped directly in front of her as she went behind the bar.
It was inevitable. She tripped over the little fool, who got spooked and bolted. The dishes flew from her hands, and gravity claimed Enid.
She only had time to scream. "No!"
Some of the dishes shattered on the floor. But Enid didn't. Wednesday had spun around at the sound of the scream and caught her in her arms. Their eyes met. They had never been this close.
The scene—the shards on the floor and Enid in Wednesday's arms—was completed by a spray of leftover coffee that splashed from a cup Thing had managed to catch.
The coffee shower broke the romantic moment. Drenched in the remains of a sugary drink and standing amidst shards of porcelain, they quickly pulled apart. The long day wasn't over yet. They had to clean up. Again.
— — —
Thoughts of the previous day's events haunted Wednesday all evening and morning. Was it just the stress, or was Enid’s gaze truly that tender? If not for the coffee, it would have been a magical moment. As it was, it lasted only a second, but Wednesday had noticed how sweetly Enid smelled of roses and vanilla. It was "adorable," but she still wasn't sure if Enid saw it the same way. To Wednesday, she was already more than a friend. She wanted to spend every moment with her, reading Poe and Dickinson to her, but those fantasies were now permanently infused with the scent of freshly ground coffee.
Wednesday blinked, returning to the present as her furry companion bumped his head against hers. She needed to get back to the coffee. Several order slips were hanging over her head, and Thing was already gesturing that she was leaving all the work to him—who was the intern here, anyway?
The black cat, whom she had started calling Pluto—even though the owner called him Uhlík—was watching her intently from the counter. He had grown so used to her over the weeks that he now ventured close enough to touch her if he felt she was daydreaming too much.
"I know they are waiting for their coffee," she stroked the cat absentmindedly.
Thing tapped on the machine and pointed to Enid among the tables.
"You could have started without me," she replied coldly.
Thing made a gesture that said 'not my problem' and vanished.
Left with no choice, she returned to work. A few minutes later, Enid came to collect the orders.
"At least it's not a madhouse today," she said with a smile. "A moment of peace for you two." She reached out to pet Pluto, but he recoiled slightly, merely inspecting her.
Disappointed, she pulled her hand back.
"He is selective," Wednesday commented.
Enid looked at her with a faint smile. "But he likes you. You're special."
Wednesday merely shrugged. "Perhaps he will find his way to you later..."
Enid just smiled at the cat, blew him a kiss, and danced back into the cafe. Pluto gave Wednesday a significant look.
"No. Do not even think about it," the dark-haired girl snapped at him.
— — —
"Look, Wed!" the blonde called out excitedly.
Wednesday looked up from cleaning the machine. Enid was leaning against the counter with the black furball in her arms.
"He let me pick him up," she purred happily, scratching the cat behind the ears. "He's such a softie."
"I told you, he just required time," Wednesday said, wiping her hands on a cloth.
"Dark but sweet—how much like you is he?" Enid teased. "I think I finally won him over."
Wednesday rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from twitching.
"Or perhaps it was the other way around," Wednesday replied softly.
She didn't get to add anything else, because Enid suddenly leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. It was so quick and unexpected that Wednesday was momentarily stunned, but then she set down the cloth and returned the kiss. The cat, meanwhile, wriggled out of Enid’s arms and quietly vanished to his favorite spot.
In that moment, Wednesday was certain it hadn't all been in her head.
— — —
The atmosphere in the cafe shifted slightly. After the kiss, neither was quite sure what they were to each other, but they were sure that the affection wasn't imaginary. The routine remained the same, but Wednesday spent her free time watching Enid move between the tables.
She stopped at a new customer who was browsing the menu. She asked if he had chosen or if he needed a recommendation.
"I certainly wouldn't refuse a recommendation. Do you smile at everyone like that?" the customer asked with a confident grin. He was about two or three years older—a normie, Wednesday judged by his clothes.
"I’m just friendly. Who wouldn't be in a cat cafe?" Enid replied brightly.
Wednesday tapped her nail against the bar. She did not like this visitor.
"Who wouldn't want cat coffee from such a cute girl?" he continued, leaning closer.
"Right. One cat-puccino then. Anything else?" Enid wrote the slip.
"Your number?"
"No, we don't serve personal information here, but I can recommend the raspberry cake. Shall I bring you one?" she laughed.
"Or perhaps I should serve it to him..." Wednesday hissed under her breath. 'So she was just playing with me... I must not be naive. Wednesday Addams is unshakeable and cold as stone.'
When Enid returned, Wednesday took the slip without a word. When Enid tried to take the coffee to the table, Wednesday stopped her with a hand.
"Do you habitually flirt with the customers?" she asked coldly.
"No...?" the werewolf reacted, confused.
Wednesday let her go but watched the interaction. Enid returned with a banknote. "He left a pretty big tip!"
Wednesday didn't respond. Her mind was full of a thousand different ways to kill him. She felt betrayed. Was the kiss meaningless?
That evening, Mrs. Miranda stopped by. "Good evening, girls. How was your day?"
"Good evening, Mrs. Miranda," Enid said. "It was quite good. Quiet."
"I have some bad news, unfortunately," the woman sighed. "The costs for the cats are too high and not enough people are coming. Unless things change, I will have to close the cafe."
Enid and Wednesday stared at her in shock.
"So, we have to make the cafe popular or it’s over?" Enid squeaked.
"Yes, I’m sorry. The cats will have to find new homes."
"I... I don't know what to say. I don't want that to happen," the sadness in Enid’s voice was almost tangible.
"If you think of anything, let me know," Mrs. Miranda smiled sadly. "Good night."
"Good night. Trust us, we'll think of something!" Enid vowed.
"Good night," Wednesday whispered emptily.
— — —
While Wednesday was plunged into lethargy by the news, Enid began spinning plans.
"Wed, we have to help. I love The Fluffy Dream," she insisted.
"Hmph," Wednesday grunted.
"We need a marketing plan to save the cat cafe!" Enid pulled out a massive sheet of paper and spread it on the dorm floor. "The cat theme is tired. We need something else. Any ideas?"
Wednesday said nothing.
Thing took a pencil and added some illustrations to the 'Plan to Save The Fluffy Dream.'
"A cat cake?" Enid frowned at Thing's drawing. He adjusted it and wrote 'more themed things.'
"You want us to lean into the cat theme? But everyone expects that. We need to attract different people."
Thing drew a cat and an adoption paper.
"Well, that’s what will happen to them if we close," she sighed. He then drew a shelter and a phone. "I’m not calling a shelter! Oh... wait, you mean other cats? Like, advertising shelter cats for adoption? But they can't be in the cafe with our cats..."
Thing made a helpless gesture and then drew an arrow to Wednesday, surrounding it with symbols: a wizard hat, a cello, a magnifying glass.
"I wish she’d say something too," Enid sighed. 'Ask her,' Thing wrote.
"Why won't you help me save the cafe?" Enid turned to Wednesday. "I thought you liked it there... What happened?"
Wednesday closed her book. "I thought you were different."
"Different how?"
"Why were you flirting with that boy?"
"With whom?" Enid was still lost. "The one who wanted my number? Wed, I wasn't flirting with him."
Wednesday remained silent.
"Really, Wed. I wasn't," Enid looked at her with sad eyes.
"Very well," Wednesday replied and returned to her book. Enid shook her head.
"We need to save the cafe," she repeated.
Wednesday lowered her book again. "Please," Enid gave her the puppy look.
Wednesday finally stood up and walked over to the paper. "I believe he was trying to suggest we do themed days," she said, looking at the paper and Thing. He gave a thumbs-up.
"So we need popular themes," Enid noted. "And we need to teach Mrs. Miranda how to use Instagram..."
— — —
"And you think this will help?" Mrs. Miranda asked pensively.
"We hope so," Enid smiled. "We’ll rotate themes—popular movies and shows. We’ll adjust the drinks and cakes, and most importantly, we’ll put it all on Instagram."
"I don't know if I can bake different cakes..."
"It’s just about the decoration and the names," Enid explained.
"If that’s all it takes, I’m in. But you’ll have to handle the Instagram."
They sat in the kitchen deciding on themes.
"We’ll start with Harry Potter. That’s always popular," Enid decided.
"Considering the author is a bigot..." Wednesday muttered.
"I know, I know, but people love the world and we aren't promoting her, just the magic," Enid argued. "We could sort the cats into houses based on their personalities."
"How about muffins with fillings colored by the houses?" Mrs. Miranda suggested.
"Perfect! Four colors, cats sorted with pictures on the walls, a quiz, and magical names for the cakes," Enid listed.
"What else?" Wednesday asked. "You know the popular films."
"Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Good Omens, Marvel, Game of Thrones, Sherlock..." Enid counted. "Maybe even a horror week?" She gave Wednesday a meaningful look.
"Agreed," Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
— — —
During their free time, they prepared the first week.
"Where would you put Ponožka?" Enid asked.
Wednesday looked at the colorful cat. "Hufflepuff."
"And Brownie?"
"Gryffindor."
"Oliver?"
"Also Gryffindor."
"Žužu?"
"Slytherin."
"Pluto?"
Wednesday gave her a 'really?' look. "Slytherin."
"You only say that because he's your favorite," Enid pointed her pencil at her.
"Perhaps," Wednesday stroked the black cat.
"I’ll put him in Ravenclaw," Enid wrote. "He's smart."
Wednesday shrugged. "That is true."
"Do you have them all?"
"Almost," Enid looked at the door.
"I shall serve them," Wednesday said. "Do not worry, I will not terrify them," she added at Enid’s doubtful look. She took the menus, brushed her hand against Enid’s back, and left.
"One kitty-cocoa, two lattes, and a ginger tea," she put the slip on the rack.
"I’ll do the cocoa," Enid grabbed a mug.
When the drinks were ready, Wednesday looked at them critically. "This is not 'adorable' enough."
"What?" Enid couldn't believe her ears. "Who are you and what have you done with Wednesday?"
"I have done nothing. Ask yourself that question," Wednesday replied, added extra sprinkles, and took the order to the table.
— — —
Thanks to Instagram, the Harry Potter week was a massive success. The sorting muffins sold out in two days.
"One Dragon’s Breath and a Starry Foam," Enid announced an order. "They want to do the quiz too—should I give it to them?"
"No, send me," Enid smiled and went to get Wednesday.
Wednesday had become a literal expert on Potter lore. "What was the name of Ron’s owl?"
"Errol!" a customer shouted. "Too easy."
"When was Dumbledore’s Army founded?"
"September 1995?"
"October," Wednesday replied coldly. "What did Luna wear around her neck?"
"A radish?"
"A cork."
Wednesday returned to the bar. "The customers know almost nothing," she told Enid.
"Are you making the questions too hard?"
"I think not. Regardless, they are enjoying it."
"At least we’re always full," Wednesday added. "I am looking forward to the horror week."
"Are you going to recite Poe to them?"
"Perhaps," Wednesday smirked.
— — —
"Last week, the takings were nearly double," Mrs. Miranda announced, looking at her books.
"May the Force be with you," Wednesday commented, using a wooden spoon as a lightsaber.
"I think we make a good team. Even if no one else would ever understand it," Enid said, adjusting her bow.
They were in the kitchen planning the next weeks.
"So, the masks for this week are ready."
"You do not know the power of the Dark Side," Wednesday said in a robotic voice through a cardboard mask. Enid laughed and pulled the mask off her.
— — —
The sounds of elven music filled the cafe, and decorations evoked Middle-earth. Enid flitted about in a Lady Galadriel dress, while Wednesday chose to be the Dark Lord Sauron—mostly because of the black outfit.
"A star shines on the hour of our meeting," Lady Galadriel greeted customers. "May I offer you noble lembas or mead?"
The trend of high takings continued, and they even had to start taking reservations. The themed weeks became a hit with normies and Nevermore students alike.
— — —
Six weeks had passed since their first day at The Fluffy Dream. The students took their signed evaluations to their Outreach class. Mrs. Miranda’s feedback was
glowing—not only had they "blended in," but they had saved a failing business.
"If you want to stay on after the internship, I’d be delighted," the owner told them. "But even if you’ve had enough of the work, I’d love to see you in the cafe."
Wednesday and Enid agreed to stay on for a few hours a week. They enjoyed the work, the cats, and the cozy space.
"I think I learned more during this internship than I expected," Enid told Wednesday.
"I, for one, found something I did not realize I was seeking," Wednesday said, brushing her hand against Enid’s cheek.
"Maybe we could go for coffee somewhere else sometime? Just us?" Enid suggested.
"Only if you wish," Wednesday smiled at her.
The girls, hand in hand, walked toward The Fluffy Dream for their now-regular part-time shift.