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Wednesday has just finished arranging her clothes in her closet when the door to the dorm room opens, and a familiar bright blob of colour enters her peripheral vision. The faint, tinny sound of loud music bleeding through earbuds reaches her ears, as she turns to watch her roommate. The noise coming from the girl’s headphones isn’t clear enough to make out entirely, but Wednesday can’t place the song as anything she has heard from Enid’s usual selection - not that she would have memorised any of it, mind you.
Enid also hadn’t - as Wednesday now realised - greeted her as soon as she barged in; Normally, the girl wouldn’t miss a beat before exclaiming some ridiculous choice of greeting, such as ‘Howdy!’. But this time, she hadn’t even acknowledged Wednesday’s presence - not that that bothers Wednesday in any kind of way, at all.
So, she takes it upon herself to greet her lycan roommate instead.
“Hey Enid,”
Wednesday braces herself for a barrage of greetings as she welcomes the girl, but she is met with an uncharacteristic silence.
The other girl doesn’t even turn to face her, instead continuing to trudge toward her bed, dragging her bags behind her. Once she has reached the bed, Enid flings herself onto the bare mattress. She doesn’t make any effort to adjust her position once she has landed; Half of her limbs dangle off the edge. The position is not even close to the way Enid usually occupies her bed - not that Wednesday would know much about that, of course.
Wednesday studies the girl on the bed intently, and likens her to a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut. It feels strange, Wednesday concludes, to see Enid like this, so lifeless. Normally, lifeless wasn’t a characteristic she disliked seeing in others, but when after two minutes Enid still hasn’t moved an inch, Wednesday begins to feel uneasy. She takes a couple steps toward her roommate’s bed.
She has to do something about this.
“Enid?” The sound that leaves her lips is unexpectedly gentle, and part of Wednesday wishes to correct that somehow, but the sight in front of her keeps her from striking a harsher tone.
Enid finally lifts her head and turns to the girl beside her bed.
“Oh, hello Wednesday,” She croaks out; The words sound small and hollow, lacking their usual energy.
When Wednesday looks into her eyes, it’s a similar story; Their usual brilliant blue has been dimmed somehow, the familiar sparkle in them nowhere to be found. Wednesday freezes at the sight and turns her gaze to the ground. A heavy silence fills the room as Enid lets her head fall back onto the mattress.
The silence reminds Wednesday of another matter she had planned to discuss with her roommate. She turns her face back to Enid, and makes sure to take hold of her usual tone before letting the question roll off her tongue.
“Why didn’t you respond to my messages?”
Wednesday’s eyes stay fixed on the girl in front of her, and she finds herself dreading the possible answers. When no answers come, and the silence once again becomes heavy, Wednesday feels her nails start to dig into her palms. Then her mouth starts moving, desperately trying to drive away this suffocating quiet.
“Did I do something wrong? Did you not get any of them? I swear, if Xavier gave me the wrong number, I’ll make sure he-”
The form on the bed in front of her begins to shake, and Wednesday's declaration of violence is cut short by the sound of muffled crying. The sight twists something inside her, and before she knows it Wednesday is on her knees with her hand on Enid’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, as again, Wednesday's mouth betrays her and her tone is gentle and soft.
“N- nothing i- important…” Enid only barely manages to stammer out the words between her sobs. Her dismissal is anything but convincing.
Normally, Wednesday would have taken the chance to end a conversation like this with both hands, but seeing her roommate like this feels too wrong. So, instead she squeezes the girl’s shoulder and continues to prod at her.
“Enid, I have seen you cry over minor misfortunes many times, and this isn’t like any of those times,” She feels like she’s pleading with the girl on the bed, and tries to keep her tone in check, “Please just tell me what’s wrong.” Despite her efforts, the final words come out desperate, and she curses herself for it.
However gross they make her feel though, her words do seem to have an effect on Enid, who turns her face toward Wednesday’s; Her eyes are puffed and red, and her lips tremble. Wednesday hates it - just like every other time she has seen it. (Not that she has all those times burned into her mind, or anything.)
“I’m sorry!” Enid whimpers softly, and Wednesday fears she accidently put on an angry face while looking at her.
So Wednesday takes a deep breath and forces her face into a gentler expression. For whatever reason, that doesn’t seem so difficult when she looks at the blubbering mess that is her roommate.
“Enid,” Wednesday begins as she moves her hand from Enid’s shoulder to her flushed cheek, “It’s alright, okay?”
The gentleness comes surprisingly easy to her, and she begrudgingly notes that she might be taking more after her father than she’d like to admit.
That is a problem for later, however, as right now there is still a crying werewolf in front of her.
Wednesday words and her touch seem to do their work; Enid breathing slows and she gives a small nod.
They stay like that for a while, eyes locked and Wednesday’s hand still on Enid’s cheek, before Enid breaks the silence.
“Sorry for not responding…”
“Oh, enough about that!” Wednesday lets out a small exasperated sigh and taps a finger on Enid’s cheek, “Now, tell me what happened.”
Enid averts her eyes and lets out a shaky breath, “I thought that it would be different this time,” Her voice is small and bitter, “And it was - for like, two seconds.”
“When I told my parents that I had finally wolfed out, they were so happy; Hell, they might even have been proud for once.” Tears well up in Enid’s eyes again as her voice begins to crack, “But then I told them about you, and how you had been in danger. And they-” The words in Enid's mouth dissipate into a shaky breath.
Wednesday wipes a tear of Enid’s cheek with her thumb before trying to keep the girl from locking up, “What did they do, Enid?” Various plans with clear murderous intent are already starting to form in her head as her eyes meet the watery blue of her friend’s.
“They-” Enid seems to brace herself as she breathes in sharply, “They said that it was disgraceful for me to transform because of someone like you. And that I shouldn’t involve myself with your kind. And that I should focus on finding a proper mate. And-”
A new wave of sobs washes over Enid, and her words are reduced to wails and whimpers.
The murderous whispers in Wednesday’s grow into a full-blown chorus when she sees the girl in front of her; One of the rare friends she has made at this forsaken place - the one that risked her life for her, without hesitation. To see that girl reduced to a blubbering, insecure wreck made Wednesday’s blood boil. Oh, how the Sinclairs will pay for this-
But any potential murder is pushed to the background as Enid continues her story, her voice raising and trembling as she does:
“And you know what the worst part is Wednesday?” Enid’s eyes meet Wednesday’s again before darting back down to the mattress, “I almost fucking believed them.” She almost spits out the last sentence, the bitterness and disgust clear on her face.
“So that’s why you didn’t respond?” Again, Wednesday’s voice is gentler and smaller than she wants it to be, as it reminds her of her parents. But not hurting Enid is more important than any of her identity issues, and so the gentle voice returns.
“I felt so conflicted, I was convinced we didn’t work; The wolf and the raven, of course that was never meant to be.” Another shaky breath leaves Enid’s lips, “I’m so sorry, Wednesday.”
Enid seems to be slipping back into the dark depths their talk was lifting her out of, and Wednesday desperately needs to throw out a ladder. Then, a sudden thought flashes through Wednesday’s head, and she can’t help but smirk at it.
“Do you want to hear a fun fact about ravens, Enid?”
Enid looks at her in confusion, “Wednesday, I’m not really in the mood for-”
“Ravens are sometimes referred to as ‘wolf-birds’,” Wednesday swiftly interrupted her, “They often travel with wolf packs, scavenging their prey and toying with the wolves. In return, they locate threats and new prey for the pack.”
“Oh.”
A red flush quickly spreads across Enid’s face, and Wednesday can feel the heat spread beneath her fingers, which somehow still find themselves on the other girl’s cheek.
“We work, Enid,” Wednesday insists, “You saved my life - and I haven’t wanted to end yours since we met.” The words are out of her mouth before she knows it, and now she can feel the heat creep up across her own cheeks.
Enid watches Wednesday very intently for a moment, before - for the first time that afternoon - flashing her trademark smile.
“Thank you, Wednesday,” Enid lifts up her free arm in invitation, but when Wednesday doesn’t respond, she lets it fall to her side again, her eyes looking back down at the mattress
“I see, you’re still not a-”
She doesn’t know what got into her all of a sudden, but Wednesday finds herself leaning on the bed, arms loosely around Enid’s neck; Her head a few inches away from the werewolf’s.
While her actions are inexplicable to herself, to Enid they are an impossibility of the universe; The girl is so startled that her head jerks up in shock - but the mattress is now more occupied than it was a moment ago.
So now the two of them are right next to each other, so close that their noses touch. Both can only stare, wide-eyed into the other’s eyes; Time seems to stop for a moment, both of them holding on to that moment with bated breath.
Wednesday’s eyes find themselves lost in an expanse of brilliant ocean blue, and they’re suddenly eager to explore more of the dreamland that is the face in front of her. They notice the soft pink of Enid’s flushed cheeks, before settling on several darker lines.
Wednesday studies the werewolf’s scars intently, her mind flashing back to the night they faced Crackstone and Tyler; She must admit that Enid hadn’t looked bad with all that blood on her face, but these scars suit her better. They are a reminder of the girl’s hidden strength, and the great battle she had fought - and won. When each scar has been thoroughly examined, Wednesday’s eyes continue their journey, moving down along the jaw.
Enid’s mouth is - to Wednesday’s surprise - another feature that exemplifies her intriguing duality; Her lips are a glossy pink, perfectly painted and delicate, but from within the slight opening of her mouth comes the subtle glint of a razor sharp canine - the fangs of a predator.
These careful observations do nothing to quell the gnawing feeling that has been growing inside Wednesday; The seeds were planted as she got to know her roommate and her go-lucky facade began to crack, and the plant began to bud when they embraced each other in a mess of blood, tears, and relief. However, now at this moment, the flower that is Wednesday’s feelings for her friend is in full bloom.
It is only now that Wednesday Addams truly sees Enid Sinclair. And it is only now that she understands her parents and their sickly sweet barrage of constant affection towards each other.
Now, she isn’t planning on kissing Enid every two seconds or constantly calling her stupid pet names, but she is going love this girl - and everyone will know it. Starting with Enid herself.
“Enid.”
Wednesday calls out and Enid blinks heavily, seemingly coming out of a deep thought as well, “Y- yeah?”
“If your parents won’t love you, then I will.”
The declaration comes out without any hesitation, as certain as the very laws of the universe; Over the last few months, Enid Sinclair had caused confusion in Wednesday many a time, but this isn’t one of those times.
Tears well up in Enid’s eyes yet again, and Wednesday’s confidence fades away like fog in the moonlight.
“Should I not have said that? I’m sorry if I-”
An arm hastily wraps itself around Wednesday’s neck, and Enid's face crashes into her shoulder, almost throwing her off the bed.
A small voice reaches her ear, quiet but sure:
“I will love you, too.”
The flower inside Wednesday bursts, its leaves scattering everywhere. And as it does, Wednesday’s heart turns up the volume that was low for so long.
Wednesday can’t keep the tears from coming; It’s a lot - too much for Wednesday - but it’s right.
The feelings are foreign and scary, overwhelming and deafening, but somehow they’re all worth it.
The smell of Enid’s shampoo, something citrus-y, fills her nose. She can feel the girl’s warm breath on the skin of her neck. Enid’s fingers press into the fabric on her shoulder. Her blonde hair tickles her cheek. Wednesday senses every single little detail of this moment.
But it’s all Enid, so despite the overwhelming barrage of it all - she finds she doesn’t mind.
It is, regrettably, as her father once said: An Addams is made for love.
She tightens her grip on the werewolf, resting her head against Enid’s, where it seems to fit perfectly. Before she knows it, Enid is fast asleep in her arms; Her face wears a look of comfort that Wednesday wouldn’t trade for the world.
Wednesday Addams is a wolf-bird, made for Enid Sinclair.
And If there is anyone who has a problem with that, she’ll know where to find them.