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A Fever You Can't Sweat Out.
Wednesday Addams is many things, according to the Nevermore population. A dead girl walking, a menace, a freak, a weirdo. The Addams dismissed most of those claims with the casual air she always had when it came to the public.
She relishes her infamy. The freshmen scatter for her. The general population regards Wednesday with respect, with an edge of fear.
But she is observant. The best detectives and serial killers are.
Like now, as the raven scans the quad, on a delightfully dreary Monday, Wednesday notices someone, or rather the lack of.
Bianca Barclay.
There is no flash of blue or sage green, the siren's usual colors outside of Nevermore purple. No brown long legs slicing through the crowd with a wide smile or parting comment to a peer.
The raven disagrees with that term, though. Wednesday is Bianca’s peer. There's no other on their level. The raven is sure of it.
But her rival only in spirit is not here. And Wednesday can't help the buzzing of irritation at the sight.
She will correct that.
“Thrope.” Wednesday calls, and in the crowd, the bug-eyed painter straightens his back at the sound of his name.
He nearly runs over two freshmen on his way to her. He's still towering over her, but Wednesday just tilts her head at him.
Xavier takes a step back, fixing his hair and getting a smear of charcoal on his forehead, “Yeah?”
“Where is Barclay?” Wednesday almost orders.
He deflates, which the raven relishes in the way his shoulder slumps. Good.
“Uh, I dunno. She wasn't in study hall.” He mumbles.
“Home Education?” Wednesday presses.
Bianca needs the ‘bullshit’ credit and saw that Wednesday and Yoko have signed up for that class. The siren had grinned, scrawling her name in loppy lettering.
Wednesday would be lying if she said it wasn't disappointing that they were split up into different class periods. Even more so when the siren had to switch it to choir.
(She was looking forward to when their class will be integrated next quarter. Maybe she will challenge the siren to a cooking show-down anyway. Bianca always loved a good wager.)
“Nah. What, what's going on between you and Bianca, you need help?” Xaxier asks, reaching out.
Wednesday sighs silently and brushes past him. It doesn't concern him. He doesn't seem to possess any common sense.
Wednesday prowls Nevermore for even a sight of the siren.
Bianca’s not in the Fencing Hall, nor in the Nightshades’ lair. Wednesday sweeps every reading nook in their library. She even checks the twin greenhouses.
Bianca Barclay is nowhere to be found. So Wednesday does what she does. Look for clues. Prime suspects. Alibis.
Hunting down the vampire is easier than it should be, considering the apex predator the species naturally were. Yoko is laughing loudly, with a sleeping Enid in her lap, feet kicked up on a table in the quad.
There's a lollipop in her mouth, cherry-red, and her shades are askew as she places a fanged kiss on Enid's neck.
“Tanaka.” Wednesday calls.
Yoko pauses, looking up from her sunglasses, “Yeah, Doom and Gloom, wassup?”
“Where’s Bianca?” Wednesday asks, her hands twitching.
Yoko hums, “Fish is sick. She doesn't like company.”
“Bianca is unwell?” Wednesday blinks.
Bianca Barclay is undefeatable. The idea of an illness being the reason the siren hasn't circled Wednesday’s orbit seems…ridiculous.
“Yeah, she's cold-blooded, so they hit her harder than you. I don't get sick.” Yoko says matter-of-factly.
Wednesday Addams almost can't believe it and yet, the leech has no reason to lie.
“Why are you here then?” She frowns.
Yoko hums, “She sent me away. Would rather wallow in it than ask for help.”
Wednesday frowns, “She’s your friend.”
“Which is why I know better. Y’know, you two are more alike than you think.”
Wednesday turns on her heel to the dorms. Well, if she must go to the source.
---
Bianca tosses and turns. She's hot. She's been hot, the sweat soaking through her sleep clothes and her blankets. Her durag is…somewhere in the bed but the siren’s body is so fatigued that she's already accepting the future bad hair day.
She's also grateful that her roommate transferred out mid-quarter and Weems never filled in the spot.
Nobody is there to see her like this.
She's a sweaty, gross mess, one of her ears hasn't popped so half the world is muffled, she's constantly stifling and sneezing.
Bianca hasn't felt like a siren since she got back from a run and threw up. She chalked it up to over-doing it, as she's prone to doing so and laid down. Pushing her body to the limits in her sports, running, fencing, swimming, she likes the strain then. It's serving its purpose, bettering her muscles.
But being sick? Bianca doesn't think there's any rhyme or reason to it. It feels like she's fighting herself.
It leaves her vulnerable. Weak. Bianca spent too much of her life weak.
Bianca hates being sick more than anything in the world.
When she was little and her parents were still married, she could bear it. Her dad was great at taking care of her, anticipating her needs. He never let her feel like a burden. His words were low and his touch was gentle.
But Bianca is a teenager now and Gabrielle ran Bianca’s dad off. The siren is still too scared to reach out to him, at the thought of him rejecting her or worse. Bianca isn't even sure the last time she let someone take care of her.
Bianca coughs roughly, curling up as the force of it hurts her lungs.
She's too tired to get up, too sick to actually rest. Bianca is between sleep and staring off into the dark brown of her walls. Her stomach ache rears up. The siren isn't sure if she's hungry or if it's just pain.
There's a knock on her door and Bianca groans rolling away from the sound.
“Go ‘way, Ko.” Bianca mumbles, burying her head in the damp pillow.
She really doesn't want the vampire to fret over her. Especially when Yoko doesn't have the slightest clue what to do with a sick person
There's a muffled voice, one the siren can't decode with the covers over her and her ear.
More knocking before it stops. Then muffled talking, low and direct. Bianca can't hear shit from her left ear.
Bianca buries her face in the sheets and there's the sound of metal clinking against metal before the door opens. It makes the siren lift her head up as light hits her eyelids.
Bianca opens her eyes to see Wednesday kneeling down, a bent bobby pin in her hand. She must be dreaming still.
She blinks but the sight doesn’t waver.
---
“Barclay, you better have a good reason to be ignoring me.” Wednesday huffs as she steps into Bianca’s dorm.
There's a mess of covers on the blue bed, blankets twisted up into each other and long brown legs peeking out. Bianca is curled up under blue sheets. The siren peers up at Wednesday, her blue eyes dull. She’s lost her warm undertone and Bianca is shivering and sweating.
“Please, don’t. I’m not in the mood, Wednesday.” Bianca mumbles before she coughs hard.
Wednesday’s irrational irritation at being ignored melts away.
Oh. Bianca is ill.
Wednesday surges forward, dropping her backpack to go over to the siren.
“Bianca Barclay, how long have you been sick?” Wednesday murmurs, reaching out to place a hand on Bianca’s forehead.
She’s burning up. Her headscarf is trapped between the covers, one sock is off and her sleep pants are pushed up to her calf. Wednesday muses that this is the most disheveled Bianca has looked. As much as it should amuse her, it just leaves the raven worried.
“I’m not sick…just needta lay down.” Bianca waves off, her words a slur.
“It seems like that’s all you’ve been doing.” Wednesday says, seeing the sweat on the sheets.
It left an impression on the sheets, which are all tangled up and twisted.
Bianca tossing and turning as she burns up. Wednesday hates that thought.
The siren leans into Wednesday’s touch, laying her in Wednesday’s palm, “Dead girl. Always so cold.”
Wednesday feels a singular urge in her being to protect.
To help.
“Not dead, Sadly. You look awful and you are sick, when was the last time you ate or drank water?” Wednesday says suddenly.
Bianca shakes her head, still nuzzling into Wednesday’s hand for the cold. A fever, no doubt.
“Dunno.”
Bianca’s a siren, they need water and are at a high risk of dehydration especially when injured and ill. Their body pulls all the water they retain to help heal. It’s why sirens should be in water when weak.
“You can’t stay like this.” Wednesday utters.
“Too much to get up. Just leave.” Is Bianca’s weak reply between sniffles, closing her eyes.
Wednesday sighs softly and runs her hand down Bianca’s beautiful face. The Addams racks her brain for the next step.
Ah. The Addam always has a one-track mind.
---
The raven steps back and tucks Bianca in before snatching the keys off the desk.
In the sleepy haze, Bianca immediately regrets sending Wednesday away. She curls into herself coughing into her pillow, internally cringing at how gross it is. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed Wednesday away, but she can’t help it. It’s second nature for her. Xavier saw her without the facade. It ruined their relationship.
(She doesn't want to think hard about the fact her brain is comparing Xavier and Wednesday. Or that Xavier doesn’t even measure up to the Addams in any category.)
Her bed feels like it’s getting bigger as she grips the covers. It makes stubborn tears spring in her eyes.
Bianca should just sleep it off. It's not like she'll be missed. Not truly. Nevermore flocks to her because she’s popular and not a complete monster but everyone is held at arms length.
Save for one.
It’s a complicated mess the way Wednesday seems to cut a hole through Bianca’s wall with a gaze or a comment that makes her feel seen. Bianca misses Wednesday. Even when the girl's eyes stare through her soul, her words sting like a viper. And yet, even with her deadpan nature, the raven was kinder to her than most. Wednesday saw through her hard exterior.
The feelings stir in her chest, the sickness weakening Bianca’s resolve.
She recalls Wednesday’s dark brown eyes staring at her, almost softening in her weakened state. The deliberate touches of her hand.
Like she cared. And Bianca wanted Wednesday to care for her even with every fiber of her being fights it. Not that she wanted to be alone, but that she couldn’t trust herself to be vulnerable.
Bianca sniffles into the pillow, burying her face before the crying starts. Sleep overtakes her.
The waves crash against her as Bianca swims out to sea. It's pouring rain, flashes of lightning bleeding into the endless night. The rain blends into her muffled sobs.
“I just need to keep going.” The siren repeats.
Her mother's screaming threats and her claws still burn into Bianca. Her back is still healing, the seawater only helping so much.
There's a boat somewhere. She dropped the anchor last night to avoid suspicion.
It can't just be an endless nothing.
As the siren whips her head around, a pair of cold hands grab her, yanking Bianca under the surface.
“Bianca. Bianca.”
---
Wednesday slips her lockpin in easily and the door to the medical wing opens.
“Amateurs...” Wednesday tsks, step in silently.
Nurse Anita is absent this weekend, vacation apparently, and that only makes Wednesday's trip smoother.
Wednesday was a tad disappointed that she missed her annual sneaking around.
Well, there's always next time.
She keeps the lights off to not alert anyone.
Wednesday scans the medical cabinets, nimble fingertips tapping bottles until she gets to the right one. Aquatic tablets and some pills. The heavy-duty stuff. Wednesday reads over the information. It's strong. It'll help Bianca recuperate.
The raven takes half of everything, carefully puts it back in place, and turning her heel sharply to the exits.
---
A blue cleft note keychain swings as Wednesday unlocks the dorm. The raven has a whole quip lined up when she steps in only to realize Bianca is fast asleep, sweat beading on her body.
Wednesday shakes the mumbling siren awake.
“N-no, Momma, no, I can't go back, you can't take me!” Bianca startles, bolting upright.
The raven blinks at the sudden movement, her eyebrows furrowing.
Wednesday steadies her by the arms, stopping the siren from elopement, “Bianca. Bianca. It's Wednesday. You're very sick.”
Her blue eyes are stormy and dazed as she whips her head around, looking for unseen danger.
Then she turns pale and throws her head over the bed, aiming for the trashcan as she vomits. Wednesday rubs her back, eyes trained on the siren.
At least she mostly got in the trash can.
“Wh-where-where am I?” Bianca utters, body trembling as she wipes her mouth.
The question is said with a tremor, something that Wednesday never heard from the confident siren before. Wednesday sits down on the sheets, feeling how hot the siren is to the touch. The fever is getting worse. She needs to act now. Sirens need a colder core temperature.
“You're at Nevermore with me, you're sick, Bia. But we'll get rid of sickness. You need a bath.” Wednesday says softly, her voice gentle.
“I don't feel good. Can't I sleep? Just for a little, Day?” Bianca murmurs, shaking her head.
The nickname stirs something in Wednesday that weakens the raven.
“Okay, ten minutes. Then you're taking a bath.” Wednesday orders.
Bianca is already closing her eyes, crawling back into bed and curling up like a cat. Wednesday runs her hands down the sweat-riddled shirt, eyes flickering over her. The siren is losing a lot of water. They need to replenish that. Wednesday pulls the cover over the other girl.
Wednesday sighs silently as she slips out of the bed. The raven makes quick work of cleaning the floor and washing out the trashcan with the copious supplies in the bathroom. ‘Enough to clean up a murder’ Wednesday muses.
Or for the neat freak that is Bianca Barclay.
Wednesday’s eyes go to the siren in question. Bianca is talking in her sleep, choking out the pillow underneath her head. Tossing and turning still.
It's well after ten minutes when Wednesday plucks up the heart to shake the siren awake.
“Day? Wha'-what's goin’ on?” Bianca slurs, her blue eyes a deep ocean hue.
“Your time is up.” Wednesday says softly.
“Come to kill me then…not a bad last sight.” Bianca comments.
Wednesday feels her cheek flush at the easy look and turn on her heel. The Addams loots through her bag of spoils until she finds her target. Bianca watches her lazily and pouts as she realizes what’s coming next. Cough syrup.
“It’s going to be gross.” Bianca mutters with her lower lip jutting out.
“You are far too old to be whining.” Wednesday sighs, grabbing the little cup.
“I’m pouting. There's a difference.” The siren huffs, eyes widening as she watches Wednesday pour the fluorescent green syrup.
Two servings. For a full-fledged siren.
“Am I going to have to fight you?” Wednesday prompts, raising the cup up to Bianca’s sight.
“You’ll lose.”
Wednesday graces her with a scoff, “In this state, I could poke you and you would roll over.”
“I-is there only the syrup?" Bianca says, her voice small.
“It’s effective. Fast acting.” Wednesday argues before sweetening the deal, “It’ll be quick. Painless.”
Bianca keeps glaring at the cup. Wednesday resists rolling her eyes or pinning the other teen down and making her drink it.
The raven scoots closer.
“Open your mouth, Bianca.” Wednesday utters.
The siren narrows her eyes. Wednesday pats her cheek lightly before tilting her chin up. Bianca lets her.
“Two swallows after I tip this cup. I know you can do it.” Wednesday says, the closeness making her flush.
Before she can pour it a feverish brown hand holds her wrist, stopping the motion instantly.
“Wait-I’m being childish. I-I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t keep you.” Bianca sniffles.
Bianca seems to shrink into herself and the Addams pats her knee.
“None of that. I’m here of my own volition. And who else rivals me if you wither away, Tanaka?” Wednesday deadpans.
The comment earns a giggle from the siren.
“She’s failed botany, twice already.” Bianca says with an easy smile.
“Exactly. So we must get rid of this ailment.”
Bianca chuckles again, “The way you talk. I’ve always noticed it. Wearing your intelligence on your sleeve. Y’know, girl sirens are expected to dumb themselves down for their potential partners?”
“How archaic.” Wednesday says softly.
“Yeah?”
“A partner is equal, someone that betters you, pushes you.”
“Sounds competitive." Bianca quips.
“Not when you're on the same team.” Wednesday deadpans.
“When have you ever been a team player?” Bianca scoffs.
“I have with you, You're stalling.” The Addams points out.
The siren sticks her tongue out and Wednesday grips her by the jaw lightly. Bianca takes a deep breath before closing her eyes, one hand gripping the front of the Addam’s shirt. Wednesday pours it easily.
“There you go. One big swallow.” Wednesday hums, her thumb rubbing a crescent on the soft brown skin.
Bianca complies and Wednesday’s skin tingles when the siren lowers her face to look at Wednesday before making a face.
“Well done.” Wednesday comments passing the siren her bottle idly.
“Ugh. Is it supposed to be sour?”
“Green apple flavored.”
“Blegh.” Bianca shudders before sipping at the water.
It must be to make the taste go away, and then the thirst kicks in as the siren gulps it down. A bead of water rolls down brown skin and disappears between her collarbones. Wednesday averts her gaze.
Wednesday takes a second before she leans down, “Can you stand?”
The siren shrugs, whipping her mouth mindlessly, “I dunno. I-maybe not for long.”
Wednesday hums before saying, “I'll draw you a bath to break that fever and hydrate you.”
The raven finishes that action plan with a pat to the bed as she stands up when a hand shoots out to grip hers. Bianca is gripping her wrist. Wednesday’s eyes go down to their conjoined hands.
“I didn’t mean it when I sent you away. Please don't leave me again.” The siren begs, her voice cracking.
Something in Wednesday breaks a little and she finds herself reaching out to soothe the other teen. Her hand tentatively on Bianca's shoulder.
“I’ll be right here. Just in the bathroom. Ten minutes.” Wednesday utters.
“Don't leave.”
“Five.”
Bianca's blue eyes are shiny and wet with emotion. It's raw. It's real. The shine of the sweat on bronze skin only seems to illuminate the sharpness of her jawline and cheekbones.
“You'll stay after, right?” The siren says weakly.
Wednesday has always known what a threat is. A biting remark, and an outstretched blade. She could fight those. But this is much more dangerous. A honey trap.
Wednesday doesn't stand a chance. She's always loved a good beg.
“Yes.” Wednesday breathes out before pulling away.
Bianca lets go of her grip, the loss of that warmth almost saddens the raven. Wednesday has to make herself focus on the task at hand.
Wednesday stops the drain, rolling her sleeves up, trying to focus on the task at hand. And yet, all roads lead to Bianca. Her soft voice, eyes wide and begging. Wednesday could see how sirens hijack your sense of purpose for their bidding.
Isn’t that why Wednesday is here, the raven muses.
No, she supposes not. Bianca never charmed her the orthodox way. The siren had Wednesday enthralled when she was cunning, with her biting remarks and cutthroat mindset. But what keeps Wednesday coming back is the softness to Bianca Barclay.
The glimpses of her rival, only in name, under the mask. Bianca was funny. And caring. Kind not nice. Direct but rarely cruel. Bianca never relished in someone else’s suffering. She was observant.
The water fills up halfway and Wednesday tosses in two tablets that hiss as they sink to the bottom.
Wednesday swirls her hand to check the temperature, blinking at how cold it is. Just right.
The raven takes a deep breath. Logically, she’s aware of Bianca being naked to bathe. People need to be so in order to get clean but the thought lingers in her mind, festering into something that makes her hands shake.
Wednesday shakes her head to clear it.
This is not that. Her steps are controlled as she approaches her rival, hands twitching with nerves.
“Bianca. Let’s get undressed.” The Addams says evenly, forcing her arms still at her side.
“You first.”
Wednesday blink and the siren giggles.
“Ah. I thought this might make you, uh-”
“Loopy? Well, you did drug me.” Bianca snorts.
Wednesday doesn’t give her rival the satisfaction of a reaction. Bianca huffs before pulling her shirt over her head. Wednesday’s eyes widen before turning around.
“Where are your towels?” Wednesday coughs.
“The closet in the bathroom.” Is Bianca’s reply.
“Do-do you want it now?”
“Nah. I’m not shy. Am I making you uncomfortable?" Bianca hums as there’s more shuffling behind her.
Wednesday shoves her hands in her pockets and shakes her head. Uncomfortibility isn't the feeling that kickstarts the heart thumping in her chest and a heat crawling up her spine.
Wednesday would rather not name it. To name such a thing would be to claim it, make it real, realer than it already is.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” The raven shrugs, kicking at air in front of her.
“Oh, just your own or…”
It dawns on the Addams what she means. Wednesday whirls around just as Bianca is pulling down her shorts. Topless.
“I,uh, I-what?” Wednesday chokes out.
Bianca laughs at her, standing up quickly. The color then drains from the siren and Wednesday surges forward to catch the other girl.
“Karma.” Bianca sighs, gripping Wednesday’s shirt firmly as her head leans on Wednesday’s shoulder.
“Fast-acting.” The Addams comments, her lips twitching upwards as she sweeps the other girls off her feet.
The siren gasps loudly, quite dramatically, Wednesday might add, and Bianca’s hands flail slightly. The skin to skin contact, Wednesday’s steady pale hands, one on naked back and the other holding the back of her knee. All of it makes Wednesday’s head spin.
“What are you hiding under all those layers?” Bianca mumbles.
“Curiosity skinned the cat. You weigh nothing.” Wednesday smirks, walking them to the bathroom.
The Addams kicks the door open, taking care not to bump Bianca into anything.
“What does it do for the shark?” Bianca comments, blue eyes looking up at Wednesday.
The look nearly sends a shudder down the raven’s back but Wednesday reminds herself what she came here for. Taking care of Bianca.
The bath is filled with bubbles.
“It’s cold. Not that it would affect you like it does me.” Wednesday warns her.
“My undies.” Bianca reminds her.
“I’ll put you down and you can take them off.” Wednesday mumbles.
Bianca nods slowly. Wednesday lets her down gently, steading the siren on her own two feet. Bianca holds her gaze, blue eyes boring into Wednesday's brown ones. It sends a lightning strike to her heart.
“Turn ‘round for me?” Bianca says, the edge of vulnerability in her melodic voice breaking the spell Wednesday finds herself under.
Wednesday nods and obliges. A pair of shaky hands hold her shoulders before one disappears. Wednesday keeps looking forward, staring at the bubbles into the tub.
“Uh, Okay, all done.” Bianca says, panting slightly from it all.
Wednesday holds her hand out, forcing herself to look at Bianca's face. The siren grasps her hand as the raven guides her into the tub.
“It’s not hot.” Bianca mumbles as she sinks into the water, hiding among bubbles.
Scales reveal themselves, iridescent like pearls as they erupt along the skin.
“Yes. Hot water will not break your fever or anyone’s for that matter. The water is what will heal you, being absorbed through your skin. There are salt tablets in here that replenish your electrolytes.”
“So, you have me sitting in a huge gatorade.” Bianca says, blowing bubbles away from her face by breathing out from gills.
Wednesday rolls her eyes, “In a lackluster way, yes.”
“How long do I have to be here? Can’t exactly drown.” Bianca hums, raising her hands up to show off her talons.
Wednesday takes a step closer, “I forget you have those.”
“What, these?” Bianca smiles with all teeth, canines sharper as she beckons the raven over with a clawed finger.
Wednesday closes the gap, her fingertips tracing over the black talons idly. They’re razor sharp, made to flay the flesh of men. and yet, Bianca’s touch is feather-light. Sirens are in tune with their bodies more than most outcasts. Have control of their siren song, their talons and teeth.
Bianca has a double set of canines in her mouth. Her teeth are white as snow with a slight blue undertone.
Wednesday must be staring, she can't help it. The soft noise the siren makes her blink away.
“You want a tour of my mouth too?” Bianca comments and it makes the raven pull back bashfully.
She's staring and Bianca Barclay is naked in front of her. How uncouth.
“I apologize, I just-”
A laugh, a childish giggle almost, interrupts her. Blue eyes are almost sparkling as Bianca gives Wednesday a look the raven can’t decipher.
“Wednesday. I’m fucking with you.”
“I see. And here, I am, making sure you don’t overheat and fry your fish brain.” Wednesday says, closing the toilet lid to sit on.
Bianca rolls her eyes, the medicine already working.
“Aw, you do care.” The siren smiles.
Wednesday pointedly stayed silent. Bianca splashes the water at her before grabbing a washcloth from the neat pile. The raven glares at her half-heartedly.
“Well, I might as well clean up.” The siren starts, grabbing her bar of soap.
Wednesday fumbles internally as to whether she should turn around or just vacate the premises entirely.
“I-do you still feel-”
“Drugged up, yep.” Bianca chuckles, popping the p.
Her movements are stilted, like it's taking her all the effort.
“Then I guess I have to supervise you.” Wednesday finds herself saying, but her eyes flit around the room as the sound of the siren lathering up fills the silence.
“Thank you, Wednesday. Really. I’m-I really am glad you’re so stubborn.” Bianca comments, but it falters.
The sincerity makes Wednesday train her gaze on the other teen and almost regrets it. The great expanse of brown skin is freed. The suds tastefully stopping just below Bianca’s collarbone. The sheen of the soapy water. It curls up the already coily hair. A line of bubbles runs down the slope of Bianca’s neck.
This sight, one that Wednesday witnesses with her own eyes, belongs in the Louvre. Right next to Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss. Bianca, oblivious to Wednesday’s mind, just dips the loofa back in the water and starts to scrub at her long legs, arching her feet.
Oh, if only this were only sexual. Wednesday could excuse it as Bianca being a siren and Wednesday having a lapse in her discipline. Bianca was gorgeous, naturally, but this was not that. It is so much more.
It's behind the drive to care for Bianca. The pull to the siren. Wednesday derails that thought before it becomes too real to suppress.
“Could you-could you get my back please?” The siren asks so sweetly, looking over her shoulder, holding up the loofah like it’s a precious stone.
Wednesday would slaughter a man with her bare hands if Bianca requests. Cleaning her back seems like a herculean task but yet so easy.
“I can.” Wednesday utters, reaching out.
Their hands touch and that fever must be contagious with the way Wednesday flushes instantly. The Addams takes five calming breaths when the siren scoots closer. Of course she has beauty marks across her back. Faint constellations of darker skin. The universe only continues to torment her.
“Hard?” Wednesday prompts.
It’s how she cleans Pubert, practically hosing him down to get her youngest brother clean from whatever filth he relishes in. Wednesday doubts Bianca will enjoy that at all.
“No, I used my sugar scrub last night.” Bianca hums.
Wednesday nods before realizing the siren can’t see her so she settles for a hesitant ‘Okay’. The skin under her feels like genuine silk. The scent of the soap, a soft but not overpowering vanilla and something deeper swirl around Wednesday like a cyclone.
Bianca leans forward and jerks back. Wednesday steadies her looking at Bianca’s face. Ah, the siren is drowsy. Bianca fights it off again with a soft whine.
“Bianca. Bianca. Almost done.” Wednesday murmurs.
“Hmmm.”
“Can you stay awake?”
“...hmmaybe.” Bianca sighs.
Wednesday huffs, “Turn around.”
“My back.”
“I’m aware. Face me, Barclay.”
The siren agrees after some grumbling, blue eyes blinking up at Wednesday expectantly. Wednesday’s hands tremble as they guide Bianca’s head to her shoulder. The siren melts into the touch, leaning her forehead into the crook of Wednesday’s neck. Somewhere in the back of Wednesday's head, she is acutely aware of Bianca’s soapy wet chest against the fabric of her shirt.
She bans herself from dwelling on it any longer than two seconds.
“Skinny but comfortable.” Bianca mumbles, her breath tickling Wednesday’s skin.
“Thank you?” Wednesday huffs before lathering up Bianca’s back.
The beautiful canvas of skin is littered with faint scars, slashes. Wednesday wonders how imperfections can make a person more perfect.
It's a tad awkward at this angle and Wednesday has to switch hands to get to the other side thoroughly. The raven rinses off the soft skin with a serious intensity. Bianca is making soft content noises close to her ear.
Wednesday wipes the leftover soap off with her hand as she finishes. She taps Bianca’s back waiting for the siren to move.
She only hums in response.
“Bianca. Bia. Siren.” Wednesday calls gently.
“Huh?” The siren mumbles, blinking slower by the minute.
Sleep is claiming the sea outcast quickly, mixed with the cough syrup earlier. Wednesday reckons she doesn’t have much time before she’ll have to carry Bianca out of the water. The idea thrills and intimidates the Addams.
“We have to get you out of this water and rinse you off. Too much salt can be a bad thing. Might pickle you.” Wednesday utters.
Bianca pulls away just enough to look up at Wednesday with wide doe eyes.
“I-I don’t think I can make it to bed.”
Wednesday closes her eyes. It must come off as irritation as the siren whines and apologizes in the same breath.
“I’m sorry, I just, medicine really takes me out and I-”
“It is fine. I-do you need help with your sleep clothes?”
Please say no.
Bianca seems to think it over before biting her plush lip, stray drops of water absorbing into the skin, ‘Could I hold your shoulder when I get into my shorts?”
Wednesday nods. Bianca reaches between them to let the water out. Wednesday turns around to grab a spare blue towel.
Bianca shuffles around behind the raven before sighing.
“Uh, I'll need help, I don’t want to slip and fall. I’m sorry.” The siren mumbles.
“Stop apologizing. It’ll be okay.” Wednesday says instantly.
Wednesday doesn't believe that one bit. It will not be okay. For Bianca, yes, but Wednesday already feels like the air is slipping through her lungs and she's being tormented by a naked, soft vulnerable side of her Bianca.
(Her Bianca? Wednesday is already too deep.)
Wednesday clears her throat, “Ready whenever.”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Wednesday tosses the folded towel over her shoulder before holding her hand out.
“I-it’ll be quick. We’re both girls. It’s nothing you haven't seen before.” Bianca adds, with a wry smile like it’s nothing.
As if Wednesday Addams and Bianca Barclay are the same.
Bianca’s feverish hand, half-covered in scales, grips Wednesday’s cold one for stability.
The siren stands up, before the water even lets out all the way, and Wednesday’s eyes widens. The soap bubbles and water slide down the curves of Bianca’s body. Naked body. Her chest has a pair of round breasts that Wednesday tries to look past but her eyes greedily take in more of Bianca. She’s perfectly toned, with a soft stomach. She's pierced at the navel, a blue gem on the tip of the long bar. The curve of her hips into lean thighs. The suds desperately cling to her mound as it slides down slowly.
Wednesday tears her eyes away before she can catch a glimpse at Bianca’s most vulnerable place.
This is tortuous and heaven.
Wednesday looks at Bianca’s face, the safest place to look right now, how her eyebrows furrow together with effort to balance.
Bianca sways forward into Wednesday's steady grasp.
“I won’t let you fall.” Wednesday utters as she instinctively wraps her arm around Bianca’s waist, the brown skin slippery and scales slick.
“I-my legs are weak.” Bianca breathes out with an awkward chuckle.
It's disarming, the causal air of it all, another softer peek of Bianca Barclay. Making it harder and harder for Wednesday to keep distance.
“I won't let you fall,” Wednesday promises again, the closeness making her lips close to Bianca's ears.
The siren shudders, probably from the cold, and faces the raven, their noses almost touching.
“See? Nothing you haven’t seen before.” Bianca laughs, the sound echoing in the bathroom, but it falters as Wednesday steadies her.
Wednesday nods softly before guiding Bianca above the showerhead. The siren turns the water on, an icy spray hitting Bianca and Wednesday’s arms. Bianca is looking at her, water in her face. Beads of water even go into the crystal blue eyes. Naturally, the siren isn’t fazed as she gazes into Wednesday’s eyes.
Ah, this is what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a boring stare.
Bianca leans forward to get her hair wet.
“I-why are you doing this?” Bianca says, her voice giving away that it’s been in her mind.
I need to. I need you to get better. I need to take care of you. I need you.
“I want to.” Wednesday dismisses because she is on the cusp of spilling out all of her secrets.
This is the wrong time and place. Not while Bianca is depending on her to tend to her. It would be underhanded to spring Wednesday’s feelings on the siren. Not when the next logical conclusion is this tentative friendship being decimated in the aftermath.
As much as everything in Wednesday wants to do something, she is selfish. Keeping Bianca, even as a friend, means lying to the siren and herself.
“We aren’t exactly besties.” Bianca points out.
“Nor are we sworn enemies.” Wednesday shoots back.
Bianca lets out an amused huff. Her warm undertone is back as the siren smiles at her, her teeth sharper, double canines exposing themselves. Wednesday can’t look away from her lips. Danger and beauty.
Wednesday didn’t stand a chance.
Bianca turns around to angle the shower on her back, the natural arch of her back running the water to the tub. Wednesday’s gaze lowers, and she can’t help herself as the soap races down brown skin.
The siren is still gripping her hand, more for support than balance. Bianca leans back.
“I’m done,” Bianca says, glancing over her shoulder.
Wednesday wraps a towel around her tightly, idly wiping away at a stray sud on Bianca’s face. Wednesday hums and guides the siren out of the tub and onto the bath rug. It's simple, she’s thrown her rival before, usually in the fencing hall when they started sparring without the blades between them. The difference is the soft, silky skin on Wednesday’s hands, hands that are tastefully away from the siren's intimate parts.
The raven should wait until Bianca is oriented and ease the siren out, but Wednesday doesn’t know how long she can bear to be around the siren in this state.
“Hold on to me.” Wednesday says.
Bianca does so, her face full of confusion as she slides her arms around Wednesday's neck loosely. The siren bites her lip, wobbling forward. Wednesday hooks her arm under the back of Bianca’s knees. The siren squeaks loudly as the raven princess carries her.
“Wednesday!"
“You would take too long.” Wednesday explains, carefully walking them to Bianca’s bed.
She places the siren down like the precious cargo Bianca is. The siren blinks up at Wednesday, something flitting through those sky blues. The towel is still around Bianca.
“Besides. Now you won’t topple over putting on your-uh-”
“My undies. You wax poetry about death and despair but draw the line at panty talk?” The siren laughs.
“It's crass.” Wednesday deadpans.
Bianca always has a habit of giggling at the raven's antics but now it comes out effortlessly. Must be the medicine.
“Crass. As if this isn't very crass. You know, usually you have to take me out to dinner before you see me in my birthday suit.” Bianca muses.
“If you can handle it tomorrow, we do have to feed you.” Wednesday says.
“What would it be?” Bianca says, reaching over to her dresser.
Wednesday looks away from the siren to give her some semblance of privacy.
“Soup. Fish stew, maybe. A little spice to perk you up.” Wednesday murmurs, anything to keep her from focusing on an undressing Bianca Barclay.
“From?” Bianca presses on, the sound of rustling through clothes.
“From me. My father's recipes. He used to freeze meals whenever he visits to remind me what I'm missing. I can hold my own in the kitchen. I can make it when you wake up.” Wednesday utters.
Her father primed her for this. Put her knife and butcher skill to work in the kitchen ever since she could remember. She could break down a fish in 2 minutes. A chicken in four.
Pugsley and their mother were good at baking. Her brother was hopeless outside of it and Morticia loved to watch her husband flit around the kitchen. Wednesday used to find it repulsive. Now she yearns for it to be her turn.
(For ocean eyes to watch her as Wednesday labors over a stove.)
“You-you really don't have to go through all that. I can get something delivered. I feel better.” Bianca backtracks.
“You feel bad.” Wednesday corrects before adding, “About me helping you. Again. Short term memory loss. Did you hit your head in the bathtub?”
“I'm sure you had better things to do than babysit me. Ugh. Why do I even have this fucking shirt?” Bianca says with a grunt.
Wednesday turns around and the siren is struggling out of a shirt. The raven huffs as she untangles Bianca from the article of clothing.
“Barclay. Enough with this self-pity, it's unlike you. I am here. I don't want to leave, not unless you want me to.” Wednesday states, pulling the hem up firmly.
The fabric is only a brief barrier between them before they're face to face.
Bianca falters, blue eyes looking Wednesday up and down. Maybe for a tell in Wednesday’s passive face or a lie. The Addams's gaze doesn't stray from her eyes.
“You lyin’?’ Bianca utters.
“Not to you.” Wednesday says truthfully.
Only lying to myself.
“I can grab my own underwear, but there's a green shirt that I sleep in that you can grab.” Bianca says after a moment, leaning down to slide an organizer under her bed.
Wednesday takes a hint and turns around to the drawer. The green shirt is easy to spot and massive.
“Are you covered?’ Wednesday murmurs.
“Enough.” is Biana's soft reply.
Wednesday unfolds the shirt, holding up like a shield between them. Bianca has arms crossed tastefully, like Wednesday hadn’t seen her naked just moments before.
They are silent as Wednesday helps the siren into her shirt, grazing soft skin. The position has them almost flush again. Bianca’s lips are full, looking soft to the touch as the siren bites at the bottom one. Wednesday finds herself tugging away from Bianca’s teeth with a thumb.
“Enough of that.” Wednesday sighs, her hand lingering.
Wednesday deludes herself into thinking she's merely checking how hydrated the siren is.
(Of course, her lips are soft and smooth.)
Bianca licks her lips, subconsciously, her tongue brushing against Wednesday’s thumb. Wednesday is clawing at whatever self-control she has. The lines are getting blurred the more Wednesday stays but she can't bring herself to pull away.
“Bad habit.” Bianca excuses with a half-shrug.
“Are you hungry?” Wednesday asks, to try and break away from whatever spell she's under. She can pull away to shared kitchens, try and get her head on straight and her heart locked away.
“For food?” Bianca hums.
What else is there? Wednesday nods and Bianca seems to think it over.
“I'm not sure I can,” Bianca starts tentatively.
“We can try for tomorrow.” Wednesday decides, pushing Bianca down firmly.
The siren complies, her eyes watching the raven intently as she hits the bed. Wednesday can tell sleep is defeating the siren as Bianca slumps against her pillow. The raven turns the light off before hanging the towel on the bathroom door.
Bianca’s voice is quiet as she calls out in the dark,"....Wednesday?"
“I'm still here. Go to sleep, Bia.” Wednesday whispers.
“Hmm, Stay, ‘kay?”
“Of course.”
“You get it. I like being with you.” Bianca mumbles, the words so jumbled up that it takes Wednesday a second to decipher it.
Then the other teen nearly strangles the pillow underneath her head. Wednesday itches to put the head scarf back on Bianca but can't bring herself to disturb her. She settles for sitting down right next to her alleged rival in a chair.
“And I, you.” Wednesday says to the now sleeping siren.
You get it. Those words keep swirling around in Wednesday’s head. The raven must update her will because Bianca Barclay is going to be the death of her.
(The siren will own 90% of her estate. The remaining percent will be divided between her brothers.)
It's easier to reach out when Bianca's not awake.
She's warm to the touch, not the burning hot temperature Bianca was earlier. Her fever's gone down. Wednesday’s insides burn with a satisfaction that can't be duplicated.
(‘Your heart, mija. It bleeds just like mine.’ A voice in her head chirps that sounds irritatingly like her father’s.)
Wednesday will keep watch. She won't fall asleep. It's too intimate, sleeping in Bianca's bed, with the siren. She already shouldn't be here, but Bianca’s sick and Wednesday has to tend to her.
She has to.
---
Bianca forgets that her dreams go haywire when she's sick. Memories bleed into nightmares into fantasies into daydreams.
Her mother rages at her, for picking her father, for standing up for herself, for fighting for herself. It's a memory, the last big they had before the younger siren left with her dad.
Bianca screams back but there's no use.
Gabrielle’s clawings still burn even years later but especially now. Hands gripping her arms and nails digging into her skin. A voice cuts through the blood and yelling.
“Cálmate. Estás a salvo, no te puede alcanzar aquí.” A voice cuts in through it fall. Sure and true.
It changes her dream.
She's lounging on a black sailboat, talking to Wednesday in a sea of pink. This can't be reality. It's too calm, too peaceful.
Wednesday's hair is freed, long and waving in the wind. She's in a t-shirt, black of course, legs dangling over the boat, feet in the water. The goth looks over her shoulder, whiskey eyes warm in the sunlight.
The siren dives into the water, splashing Wednesday in the process. The siren breaches the surface, shaking the water from her face.
“An Apex Predator in your element. Whatever shall you do?” Wednesday utters with a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“Hunt.” Bianca says, grabbing Wednesday by the ankle into the water.
Wednesday and Bianca wrestle under the water. The siren laughs as Wednesday puts her in a chokehold. It's no use here.
Bianca wishes she could stay here. Even if it means being sick.
---
Bianca is trembling in her sleep again. It reminds Wednesday of her Uncle Fester and Pugsley. Fester enjoyed the night terrors. Her brother loathes them. Seems Bianca does too.
The only thing that helped Pugsley was physical touch. It didn’t matter who but Wednesday knew he preferred her. She pretended to hate it.
The raven slides next to her rival in name only, tentatively placing a hand on a blanketed back. Bianca looks small like this. Sweet almost.
“Cálmate. Estás a salvo, no te puede alcanzar aquí.” Wednesday murmurs into the night air.
'Calm down. You're safe, it can't reach you here.' It's a simple enough command that soothes the siren by the way Bianca relaxes.
Bianca makes another small noise as her back is rubbed. The siren turns over and Wednesday freezes, about to apologize for unwarranted touch.
Bianca scoots closer and wraps her arms around her waist, nuzzling into Wednesday’s stomach. The raven is acutely aware that Bianca's breath tickles her scar. The touch burns whatever self-control Wednesday claimed she has. Wednesday sighs into the embrace as she pats the siren's back.
Bianca smiles in her sleep.
Wednesday Addams is too far gone into the abyss that is Bianca Barclay. She runs her hands up and down her back rhythmically.
“I'm here.” Wednesday swears.
She almost doesn’t want the siren to wake up, frozen forever with the warmth of the siren curled up to her like a cat. Wednesday murmurs comforting words to Bianca's sleeping form.
---
Bianca succumbs to slumbler easily. Waking up is difficult and a part of her wants to sleep forever. She blinks away the sleep from her eyes, body aching. Bianca realizes with a half-lucid mind that she's not alone.
A lithe hand is rubbing her back in lazy figure 8s. The scent of roses and ink surrounds her. Not Yoko. The vampire reeks of cherry. Bianca shifts, arms still coiled around the person’s waist. Her hands have wormed their way under black fabric and onto pale skin.
“Hey, hey, none of that.” Wednesday murmurs, her deadpan voice sweetening.
Suddenly, the siren recalls the day before. The sickness. Wednesday coming to her side. The bath. Banca, stark naked and in the bathroom. Wednesday seeing her stark fucking naked. The respectful and downright gentle way Wednesday looked at her. Looked after her. The sire feels the rush of embarrassment over how she acted but the warm feeling of being in Wednesday’s space overpowers it all.
Bianca almost feels guilty for playing sleep but it allows her to nuzzle into Wednesday’s soft sweater. The hand rubs circles on her back steadily.
“Es egoísta querer que te mantengas enferma?” Wednesday says with a soft chuckle.
Bianca doesn’t know if she’s ever heard the raven laugh like this, or at all. Maybe she could stay sick, if it means seeing Wednesday’s soft side or another laugh.
Bianca groans as a hand runs over her head. It’s covered now, her headscarf tightly around her head. It wasn’t there before.
“You’re awful at playing possum.” Wednesday deadpans.
Bianca freezes, before sighing, “Too much moving?”
“Sleeping people don't tense up.” Wednesday supplies.
The hand doesn't stop moving, which is a miracle in itself, and Bianca lifts her head up. The siren keeps her arms around the waist. They’re in this bubble that Binca doesn’t want to break.
“Noted. You-you tied my hair up.” Bianca says.
“I figured you would appreciate it. You toss and turn in your sleep. How do you feel?”
Bianca shrugs, which is awkward in their position, “Sore, but I feel a little better.”
She can hear clearly now, and it doesn’t hurt or make her hack up a lung when she breathes. Her stomach growls in the lull of Wednesday’s silence.
“You’re hungry, that’s good. You’re not feverish, either.” Wednesday utters, a light air of amusement in her tone.
Bianca’s almost ashamed at how disappointing it feels to get better.
“Soup.” Bianca recalls.
“Hm?“
“You promise me soup.”
“That I did. Fish stew.”
“Don’t poison me.”
“After all this trouble I went through? What a waste it would be.”
Wednesday pats her back thrice before pulling away. Bianca feels a spike of panic and she reaches out to grasp the wrist of the other girl. Wednesday’s eyebrows furrow in concern as she looks at the siren. The loss of contact makes a colder bed.
“Come back.” Bianca begs.
“I will. 45 and I will be back.” Wednesday assures her with a hand squeeze.
Bianca looks up at her with her eyes flitting back and forth. She interlocks their fingers for a moment. Wednesday's eyes soften, she can see it more clearly in the day, and the goth reaches out to cup the siren’s face.
Last night hits Bianca with a sense of clarity. The gentle handling. The unguarded look of concern Wednesday had on Bianca at all times. Wednesday bathed her.
Bianca’s currently rewinding last night's memories as Wednesday slips away from the bed.
Bianca smiles up at her. The Addams makes her feel seen and safe. The siren glances down at Wednesday's lips, subconsciously leaning forward. For a moment, Wednesday falters and seems to be leaning in too.
Bianca’s stomach growls again, this time louder in the stifled air.
Wednesday pulls back as if she's been burned. Her pale skin is flushed to a soft pink. And Wednesday blinks hard, seemingly putting herself back in order.
“Less than an hour.” Wednesday comments before she turns on her heel sharply to close the door.
Bianca opens her mouth but Wednesday is already gone, closing the door behind her swiftly.
---
Wednesday scolds herself the entire way to the kitchens. What the devil was she thinking, almost kissing Bianca while the siren was at her most vulnerable? Was she even thinking at all?
Wednesday Addams can't be trusted about Bianca alone, it seems. She finds herself constantly pulled in the siren's hold. Like two planets circling each other's orbit.
Maybe she's addicted to the siren.
She nearly runs into a lanky body as her thoughts get louder.
(The siren’s sweet smile as Bianca teases her. She almost kissed her. It was foolish. And yet, Wednesday wonders, in the back of her bleak dark mind, if Bianca would kiss her back.)
Wednesday steps back to glare at the person she collided with.
“Whoa, chill, it's just me.” Yoko says, throwing her hands up.
“Watch where you're going, leech.” Wednesday mutters.
“Me? You're walking around daydreaming about murder or whatever.” Yoko smirks.
“I don't daydream. I plan.” Wednesday deadpans.
Yoko laughs, the sound making Wednesday's fingers twitch in irritation. The vampire is wholly unserious. While Wednesday could tolerate it when it came to the outside world, that did not extend to Bianca.
“Bianca is better, thanks for asking.” Wednesday says, her tone biting.
“Knew she would be.” Yoko shrugs.
“By festering in bed?” Wednesday scoffs.
The siren was barely lucid.
“By being taken care of by you.” Yoko grins.
Wednesday narrows her eyes, “You have a quip of everything.”
Yoko makes a so-so gesture, “When the opportunity arises.”
Wednesday pushes past the vampire, bumping shoulders, “I don’t have time for this.”
The vampire steps in her way again. Wednesday is weighing her options of putting the vampire in a flying armbar.
“What's your angle?” Yoko asks.
Wednesday resists an eye roll, “Someone has to look after Bianca.”
“When did she stop being Barclay, huh?” Yoko asks and Wednesday feels like she's been caught.
“Do you exist to annoy?” Wednesday snaps.
Yoko hums, a sharp look passing through her black eyes, like she’s sizing up Wednesday. Wednesday doesn't back down from the gaze. The vampire seems to find something because she shoves her hands in her pockets, stepping past Wednesday.
“Have a nice one, Wednesday. Tell Bia I'll be by soon.” Yoko calls over her shoulder.
Wednesday grumbles about the bizarre Vampire before focusing on the task at hand.
The kitchens are clean and empty. Wednesday pulls the fish out of the fridge. Gutting and descaling the red snapper is second nature. The raven makes quick work of it. Salting and pan frying the peppers with the garlic and onions. Using the leftover broth as a base before laying the snapper in the pot.
---
Bianca crosses her legs as she sits up in bed. The gears in her head hasn’t stopped turning. Wednesday’s touches. Her low tone and soft words. The siren doesn’t even know the last time she was treated so gently.
Wednesday.
There’s a knock on the door and Bianca jumps up to answer it, body still aching from the long nap.
It’s not Wednesday, but another familiar face.
“Hey, shark, you look better.” Yoko greets her with a soft smile.
“I took some medicine,” Bianca mumbles, letting her in.
The vampire leans down to kiss Bianca’s cheek as she passes. “Less warm. Fever’s gone down. Your girl come back yet?”
“Wednesday isn’t my girl.”
“And yet, you knew who I was talking about.”
Bianca rolls her eyes, “You saw Wednesday?”
Yoko nods, “Tried giving me a shake-down. Said I should’ve nursed you back to health. I told her I don’t have a nurse outfit.”
“I wouldn’t have let you anyway.” Bianca chuckles.
That was one thing she loved about Yoko, the vampire never pushed boundaries. Bianca could trust Yoko to give her space even if Bianca really didn’t want her to. Plus, she could be trusted to tell her the truth.
“I-Wednesday, she-she got some my meds and help me clean up.” Bianca says simply.
It’s too much, too complicated to say ‘hey, my crush saw me naked and help me shower off my gross sickness.’
“You kiss her yet?” Yoko says bluntly.
Bianca falters, a part of her wanting to shut down and change the subject. To put her walls back up, Yoko would back down if she told her to. The vampire nudges her gently.
She’s safe here.
“No, I-I-really wanted to. For a sec, I thought she would but she didn’t.” Bianca lets out.
Yoko sighs, “Dude. This is getting out of hand. I can’t keep waiting for you to get a grip. She took care of you. Wednesday Addams. Would it be so bad? If you told her?”
She was a siren, Bianca was always too much in relationships. As much as she wants Wednesday, it can’t be why it ruins the good thing they have.
“I could mess it all up. Like I did with Xavier, I was too much too fast.” Bianca confesses.
“Xavier was not your fault at all. He’s an immature man-child. He was never enough.” Yoko levels with her.
Bianca blinks.
“Just-just tell her. If anyone would be honest with you, it’s Wednesday Addams.” The vampire says lightly.
Bianca nods, swallowing back her fear.
“ ‘kay. If she breaks my heart, I’m crying in your bed.” Bianca jokes half-heartedly.
“If she doesn’t like you back, you can have my bass.” Yoko murmurs.
The siren curls back in bed, “She-I needed help in the shower. I wanted to kiss then, but I was so tired.”
“You're not tired now.” Yoko says.
The siren glances at the clock and curses.
“Then you have to leave.” Bianca says, pushing her out.
The vampire lets herself get shoved out, “Tell me how it goes!”
“Thank you. Ko, really. I owe you.” Bianca says quickly.
Yoko blushes and waves her off, “You better fucking kiss her.”
The door closes with a click and Bianca goes back to her dresser, fixing her scarf. She debates changing entirely, but before she can mull it over, there's a soft knock on the door.
“Bianca?” Wednesday calls as she opens it.
The siren sits up straight. Wednesday has a steaming container in her hands.
The raven's sleeves were neatly folded up to her elbows, showing off her lean and pale skin.
“I'm awake.” Bianca says softly.
“You need to eat before you take more syrup.” Wednesday states, putting soup down on the vanity.
Bianca looks over, “Can we eat on the desk together? I wanna be in bed.”
Wednesday blinks, a sight that makes Bianca internally smile, before rerouting to the neat desk, “I made it for you.“
Bianca crawls back into bed, sitting cross-legged, pulling her long shirt over her knees. She pats the spot next to her. Wednesday's quick to indulge her, sliding the desk over before claiming her spot, posture perfect. They're only a hair away from brushing against each other.
Bianca opens up the bowl curiously. It's a light broth soup, pieces of flaky fish swimming around with peppers, onions and carrots.
“It looks good.” Bianca hums, eyes flickering to the other girl next to her.
“It's red snapper. I-I know you don't mind it but it is a little spicy.” Wednesday explains, hand twitching before she offers the siren a spoon.
Bianca opens her mouth, testing the waters. The raven pauses and Bianc ais abut to laugh it off when Wednesday hums.
The raven dips the spoon in the soup and holds it up to her lips, “Blow.”
Bianca hums, eyes flickering to Wednesday’s lips. The siren wonders if they're cold like the rest of the raven. Wednesday raises an eyebrow patiently.
Bianca looks up from her lashes as she cools the spoonful down. Bianca gets a dominant sense of deja vu as a pale hand holds her chin. Wednesday feeds her little by little until the bowl is just broth left.
“Seems you are good for something besides making mischief.” Bianca grins, her body pleasantly warmed on the inside.
“I prefer causing trouble or making mayhem.” Wednesday says softly, letting the spoon fall on the bowl haphazardly as she gets up.
Bianca doesn't protest when the raven brandishes the medicine bottle, just makes a face but tilts her head back innocently.
“You're very agreeable once you've eaten.” Wednesday comments, pulling the lid off.
“There's no need to fight this anymore.” Bianca says slyly.
It still goes down worse than liquor and makes the siren shudder but the warm look in Wednesday’s eyes as she stands over Bianca is well worth it.
“There. If only everyone else was like you.” Wednesday muses, wiping away something from Bianca’s lower lip.
The touch is feather-light but feels like lightning in a thunderstorm. It's the last thing that rips away Bianca’s restraint.
“No more games.” Bianca utters to herself before she throws caution to the wind.
Bianca surges up and her lips meet Wednesday’s. The raven stills with a sharp noise, pulling away for a split second, before she dives into the kiss with hard aggression, licking into her mouth. Sparks burn in Bianca's stomach, and the sensation makes her sway. Wednesday holds her close by the waist with a low hum before guiding them to bed, Bianca's back hitting the sheets.
Bianca would be lying if she says she doesn’t know why she does it. She’s still sick, probably still tastes like sleep and cough syrup. Wednesday doesn't seem to mind. Her hands are gripping the siren like she's liable to fly away.
It feels so right. It doesn't feel like a performance Bianca is putting on. It's real. It’s raw and it's undoing Bianca nerve by nerve. She wants more even as Wednesday presses against her fully.
Her lungs protest as she tugs Wednesday impossibly closer. She could be drowning in Wednesday Addams and be satisfied.
Bianca pulls away to cough, muffling it in Wednesday’s sweater sleeve.
“I’m sorry, I’m gross. I just-” Bianca excuses.
She trails off as hands cup her face. Wednesday is just gazing into her very soul. Her usually stoic face is lightened by a gentle curl of her lips, slightly pinker by the rough kiss.
It calms her racing heart and gives the siren confidence to speak again.
“I-you don’t do this for anyone. I don’t get naked for anyone either. Tell me I got this right?” Bianca murmurs, her voice breaking.
The deliberate delicate line in their friendship is gone and, for a second, Bianca doesn't know if she went too far as the silence stretches on.
“I just let you cough in my sweater and I cleaned up your vomit.” Wednesday says matter-of-factly before clarifying, “Obviously, I am deeply infatuated with you.”
The knot in the siren’s gut undoes itself with those final six words.
“Good. Great. So am I. I really like you, Wednesday, a lot. Have for a while. When we slaughtered a pilgrim is when it started.” Bianca says, a crooked grin taking over her face.
Wednesday laughs, a small smile brightening her face. It's a sound Bianca wants to bottle to keep forever.
“I got you beat. Since you drew blood, I've been drawn to you. You could have said something.”
“I really didn't want to ruin this.” Bianca mumbles with a soft shrug.
It's a shy confession, brimming with vulnerability that peels away the hard shell Bianca’s put up. Wednesday takes her in stride, feeling her forehead idly and letting the siren melt into her touch.
Wednesday hums, a twinkle of amusement in her dark brown eyes like she's found a new weakness.
“You could never. You could hate me and my heart would still beat for you. You're so much more than what everyone thinks you are.” Wednesday murmurs, leaning in to kiss Bianca on the cheek.
Bianca kisses Wednesday again, deeply, licking into her mouth because she wants to consume this girl from inside out. Wednesday sighs into her mouth as her arms hold her up.
Bianca runs her hands under the dark sweater to pale soft skin. Her nails skate over flesh and Wednesday groans softly. The siren guides her out of that sweater, leaving Wednesday’s braids and bangs askew in the pursuit, the sight of a disheveled Wednesday that Bianca burns in her mind.
“We shouldn't-you're still sick.” Wednesday utters, placing a calming hand on Bianca's heaving chest.
“You can nurse me back to health then.” Bianca says quickly, chasing her lips.
Wednesday melts into this embrace and Bianca hikes a long leg around her waist. Wednesday presses against her, giving the siren an opportunity to rock her hips. The raven shudders above her before pulling away.
Bianca whines at the loss of contact and tries for another kiss.
Wednesday scoffs and hands pin her to the bed. It makes the siren curse as a flash of desire hits her at the display of strength. Bianca pushes back but there's no use, her body still too weak.
“No, amor, not like this.” Wednesday hums but her eyes flicker greedily all over Bianca's body.
Her sleep shirt is hiked up to her stomach, showing off her long legs.
“Why not?” Bianca blinks.
Usually this would work.
“You were wheezing in your sleep. I'll kill you in this state.” Wednesday smirks.
“Big talk. Back it up.” The siren murmurs in her ear before biting at the skin under it.
“You are incorrigible.” Wednesday says but her voice shakes as Bianca mouths at a certain spot.
“But you want to?” Bianca says slyly, pulling away to look up at her.
Wednesday’s brown eyes blacken, “Of course, I do. Later, after you're well and I've taken you out.”
Bianca kisses her softly, “Okay. Stay?”
“Of, course.” Wednesday says.
Bianca believes it.