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Kay, so it went like this. Enid, to her credit, had a plan. A very good plan. A plan ruined by one dark storm cloud, that continuously, no matter how fast she ran, covered Enid’s sunshine.
So, um, suffice to say she’s not overjoyed when she finally realizes that…she has a crush. Shocking, Enid Sinclair has a crush, the crowd is unsurprised. But this one is different. Why? Well, she’s made a list.
Reasons why this sucks:
- She’s a girl
- She’d never like Enid back
- She’s Wednesday. Fucking. Addams.
Back to the plan. Enid had it all figured out. She would go to Nevermore, getting a smoking hot boyfriend, graduate with flying colors, and go on to live a life totally devoid of her parents and the things that haunt her at night. It was perfect. It was steel.
It was shattered like glass the first time they made eye contact
The yawning door snaps Enid to attention. She blots upright, standing as straight as she can. Bounding over to the people walking in she beams her brightest smile. It’s harder than it usually is, given that every source she could find informed her that her new roomie is a psychopathic killer.
Yea she wasn’t jazzed when Principal Weems told her in no uncertain terms that she’d have the hardest job ever: surviving Wednesday Addams.
“Howdy, roomie!” She shouts, louder than she likely oughta.
Oh, her eyes. They were so…dark, but like, weirdly mesmerizing. Enid falters for a second. She faintly registers Principal Weems talking but she can hardly make out the words. The engulfing terror and excitement she feels just looking into Wednesday's eyes is something completely foreign to her.
Enid wanted to turn away, to look at anything other than Wednesday’s beautiful, dark, gorgeous eyes. Enid wanted to never look at anything else, for nothing else seemed to be worth looking at anymore.
She pushed the feelings far far far far far far far far far down after that.
It’s unbelievable but she did it for a good long while.
Her barely able to keep a secret mouth was able to stay shut. Until she wolfed out for the last time. To save Wednesday.
Hours, days, weeks, even months might’ve passed. But, eventually, Wednesday found her. Now, let’s be entirely clear, Enid did not want to be found. She hid away for a very good reason. Somehow, Wednesday found her anyway.
Together they traveled back to the Addams family mansion. It was sorta hard to go unnoticed that whole time, seeing as a goth girl, her weird bald uncle, and a severed hand were hauling around a 7(ish) foot tall werewolf. But once they arrived the whole Addams family set to work on helping Enid.
Even distant family members were called for insight. Weeks passed without change. Enid was still a werewolf, taking up a tremendous amount of space. Despite Wednesday’s insistence she wasn’t, Enid still felt like a terrible inconvenience. Though, finally, after five or so weeks, they found a cure.
Some complicated, unconventional, spell was cast upon her. And bam! She was back to normal. Y’know…mostly. Her hair was longer, untamed, it had lost most of its color. The nails she used to take such good care of were jagged and short. Dirt packed underneath her fingernails. To top it all off her skin has never looked worse.
Wednesday helped. To a point. She helped bath Enid, brush out her hair, buy her new clothes. The ones she had been in when she transformed were tattered and torn. The only problem was the tension, the silence. They didn’t talk. Which normally would’ve bothered Enid—and it did to a degree—but mostly it was a blessing. She feared that if she even uttered a word to Wednesday she would crack, break down like a perfectionist who just got a C on their finale.
The most she was able to muster was a plain ‘Thank you’.
So, yeah, that’s how Enid ends up avoiding the one person she’s ever really loved. In none other than her very own mansion, with her family dotted all over. Honestly though, Enid expected it to be easier. Like, such a big house, it shouldn’t be so hard to avoid one person, especially since they were currently hosting some family get together. Yet, the only person Enid had seemed to be able to run into was the only person she did not want to.
She’d like to reiterate that she has done so well keeping her mouth shut. However, it’s incredibly hard to do that when you’re still healing from a multitude of physical and mental trauma, stuck with your crush-of-all-time taking care of you, in their house, while there’s a huge party going on, and you’ve just been trapped in a small broom closet. With. Said. Crush.
Anyways here’s how that happened:
Enid strolled down the long corridor, fingers grazing over the rotting wood of the walls. It was oddly comforting, the decrepit state of the house. So very, uniquely, Addams. Unfortunately her peace did not last forever.
As she walked down the grand staircase she was met with at least a hundred (not kidding) family members. She knew this was happening; she just didn’t realize the multitude.
It was nice, for a while.
Eventually she began to grow tired, irritable, hungry. This happened fairly often. It’s a side effect of being in werewolf form for so long. After shocks, they’re called. She found out after some digging that they start out frequent and ferocious, though, after a while, they start to wane. It’s happened enough now that she knows the tells, and what to do when it starts.
See, when this happens it mostly involves brutality. Exhaustion, then anger, then hunger, and then violence. Thankfully, the Addams’ are very well versed in fighting. She’d been quickly subdued the first few times and once she came back to herself she apologized profusely every time.
Now Enid knows what to do when she feels it coming on. Typically what helps her best is to seclude herself in a private area, play her favorite music, and focus solely on breathing. However, there is currently no place in the mansion that is not occupied.
So she runs into an abandoned broom closet. She leans heavily against the door after firmly locking it. Her eyes stay shut for a moment as she controls her breathing. And when she opens them again she is met with an unusual amount of light.
Enid whips around to find none other than Wednesday Addams herself. Tucked into a corner with a candelabra in one hand and a book in the other. Before her is a piece of chalk and just beyond that is a half circle with other random shapes and inscriptions that Enid has no intention of looking further into. Instead she lets out a shaky breath and she lowers herself to the floor.
“Enid,” Wednesday says.
“Wednesday,” Enid replies.
Wednesday resumes her work. Her eyes stay trained downward. Enid watches as she moves the candelabra closer to the book. The light illuminates her face, her eyes glow golden.
“You are welcome to stay, but do not bother me,” Wednesday states in her monotone.
“Of course,” Enid agrees.
She watches silently as Wednesday works. Her deft fingers tracing intricate lines on the floor. The chalk she holds leaves white dust lingering on her fingers. The way she carefully flips each page calms Enid in a way. Wednesday looks so engrossed in her work it seems she even forgets Enid is there.
“How are you?”
Or not.
Wednesday's question catches her off guard. She takes a moment to respond, dumbly stuttering before she answers.
“Oh, uh-m, fine?”
“Clearly the aftershocks have not gone away,” Wednesday raises her eyes, “that is why you’re in here, correct?”
Enid stares for just a little too long, becoming stupidly enthralled by Wednesday’s eyes again. And maybe, possibly, flicking her gaze to Wednesday’s lips, just for a moment.
“Oh, yeah!” She agrees, too high pitched, too fake.
However—even though Wednesday for sure catches it—she does not comment.
They fall back into a silence, albeit less comfortable now.
Until Enid can’t hold her tongue anymore. “I feel better now, though.” She admits quietly.
Wednesday doesn’t spare her a glance as she speaks. Somehow it’s a blessing. Enid doesn’t believe she could handle it if she took even one more look at her sparkling eyes.
“That is..preferable.”
“Wednesday,” Enid blurts.
Wednesday looks back up at her. Enid feels like she’s gonna combust.
“Thank you,” she shrinks in on herself, suddenly very very hot.
Wednesday nods, her mouth forming a thin line. “Always.”
Wednesday seems like she is about to start working again but before she can pick up the chalk again Enid grabs her hand. The other one that holds the book wavers.
“No, I’m serious. Thank you. I mean, you didn’t have to do all that,” she begins to ramble, not really realizing her own voice anymore. “Saving me, taking care of me, giving me a place to live. And your whole family is just so awesome and I’m so grateful full and-“
“Enid!” Wednesday snaps.
Enid pulls back immediately. Every offense she just committed ran through her mind.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t-“
“Stop.” Wednesday stands.
She takes little more than two steps till she is looming over Enid. Pin pricks in her palms. Enid looks down briefly and finds she’s dug her nails–claws slightly extended–into her hands. She swallows and looks back up to meet Wednesday’s intense gaze.
Enid opens her mouth, tries to force something out, but before she can embarrass herself further Wednesday speaks.
“I only did what was necessary. Anyone else would have done the same,” her voice is steady and eerily calm, as always.
Enid looks back down, breathing out, “Right.”
Wednesday is wrong. Obviously Enid can’t say this or it might turn into a whole thing and she canNOT have that right now. But she knows Wednesday is wrong. Not just anyone would do all this. Her whole family went above and beyond to take care of Enid. Not just anyone–not even Enid's own parents–would help her the way the Addams family did, the way Wednesday did.
The light shifts. It pulls Enid out of her thoughts. She lifts her head to find that Wednesday has knelt in front of her. Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of Wednesday so close. The candle light contours her face, making it all sharp angles and harsh lines. It’s beautiful.
If Enid could—if she dared to—she would glide her fingers over each ridge and curve Wednesday carries.
“Enid,” Wednesday begins, softer than Enid has ever heard, “why have you been avoiding me?”
“I-“
“Don’t deny it.”
…
“I am,” she says slowly. It’s too much. Enid can’t bear to look at Wednesday any longer. She averts her gaze, staring down at their hands, almost touching, on the floor. “Scared,” Enid breathes.
“Scared?” Wednesday questions.
The raven moves beside the wolf. Their shoulders brush, and Enid’s heart stops. Wednesday doesn’t pull away. This is one of the very rare times Wednesday has initiated physical contact. Enid makes sure to remember this moment, boxing it away in the section of her brain saved solely for Wednesday.
“Yea.”
“Of?”
Enid lifts her head. Their eyes meet. And she swears the thundering in her heart is audible.
For just a moment Enid takes in all of her. Two perfectly symmetrical braids made of silky obsidian hair. Sharp eyes that pierce like a knife, but are soft and caring if you look long enough. Lips that seemed carved by the gods themselves.
It’s all so Wednesday. It’s all so perfect.
Before she thinks, before she stops herself, before her conscience even has a chance, Enid raises her hand and slowly—ever so slowly—cups Wednesday’s face. She runs her thumb over the line of her cheekbone, then over her bottom lip.
Wednesday leans in. Enid inwardly sighs.
She goes to speak but Wednesday beats her to it.
“You may,” Wednesday breathes out.
And at that Enid surges forward. A soft whine is pulled from the back of her throat as their lips meet. Wednesday places a hand upon Enid’s inner thigh, and shifts enough to be more in front of her. They kiss for long enough that Enid begins to lose track of days, only breaking to rake in air.
After what felt like forever, and still not long enough, they pull away. The only sound is the distant chatter from the dining hall and their panting breath.
“I-“ Enid tries to get anything out but the words crumble on her tongue.
“I know,” Wednesday placates.
And then she smiles.
And Enid is so overwhelmed by everything that she doesn’t even register her own beaming smile until her cheeks begin to ache.