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“I will never fall in love, or be a housewife, or have a family.”
If Wednesday ever gained the opportunity to throttle herself through time, she would do so just before she spouted that contrarian drivel. Not that she didn't relish the opportunity to be difficult and trouble her parents, but in hindsight all it gave them was an opportunity to smile smugly at her yet again. It would be torturous, and not in a good way. But there was no other option, for Wednesday had succumbed to the Addams' Curse: deep, passionate love for another. Most insultingly, it was for her bright, perky, vivid, colorful roommate. Truly, Wednesday had been damned. Like all Addamses, though, she would be damned in style. There were many ways to woo a woman, and Wednesday was ready to execute them all flawlessly.
Acts of Service
“Uggggh, this is the worst!” Enid burst into the room and flung herself onto her bed, pressing her face into her pillow and screaming. Wednesday did not pause in her typing, knowing that Enid would continue regardless of any reaction on her part. And indeed, Enid rolled over and started talking again. “I know you promised to watch a non-horror movie with me this week but I think we’re gonna hafta postpone, ugggh. I’ve got a group project with Kent and Ajax of all people, it’s gonna suck! And take up all my time! Everyone knows Kent slacks off in group stuff, and it’s still so awkward with Ajax.” Thing patted her hand comfortingly, like he had when Enid had announced her break-up with Ajax two weeks ago.
Clacking the final key of the line, the typewriter dinged. Wednesday reset the carriage and turned to face her roommate. “Fret not, though desperate is a good look on you, I’ll assist in this matter.” Enid bolted upright with a look of joy, and started squealing about how great Wednesday was for offering to help with the project. As Enid promised to have all the research materials gathered together by the end of the next day, Wednesday was already plotting how to…encourage the other group members.
—
Kent was forcibly dragged from his sleep by a discomfort his unconscious mind could not stand. His eyes snapped open when he realized he was bound and gagged to his own bed, with a space heater pointed directly at him. His feet had been submerged in water, causing his tail to form, and the heater was drying his scales like a freshly-caught fish roasting over a fire. He jerked and screamed for help, but the fisher’s net stuffed in his mouth muffled him too much. His roommate slept on.
He felt something tap the side of his pillow, and he snapped his head to the side to see something scuttle away on the floor. But where the creature had been, was a note that read Lazy fish get caught. Hard working ones survive. Kent gulped and yanked harder at the ropes. He was in for a restless night.
Ajax, on the other hand, slept soundly through the night. When he awoke, however, he let out a scream that woke up every other boy on his floor. A dead snake had been affixed to the ceiling right over his bed. It had been nailed through the heart.
Dangling from the nail had been a short note: Broken hearts are better than nailed hearts. Get over it. Covering his heart with his hand as if to make sure it hadn’t been nailed as well, Ajax shuddered. He wondered if Enid would like any of the snacks in his care package, or if he’d be better off going to the Weathervane to get her a drink. And maybe one for Wednesday too. Just to be safe.
—
Wednesday was again tapping at her typewriter when Enid burst into the room. “OMG, Wednesday! Did you threaten Kent and Ajax last night?” Her voice seemed torn between offense and delight.
Without missing a beat, Wednesday replied, “I can neither confirm nor deny those allegations.” She carefully did not look at Enid.
Letting out a huff of a laugh, Enid flounced over to Wednesday’s side of the room. She sat on the bed and stared as Wednesday continued typing. “Well, thanks to whoever did it, I guess. It was sweet, kind of.” Wednesday’s mouth involuntarily twitched upwards for a split second.
Quality Time
Enid dumped an armful of snacks onto the bedspread. The compromise the two roommates had made regarding the “movie night” was that it would take place on Wednesday’s bed, but Enid got to pick the movies. Wednesday considered it a worthwhile trade to avoid sitting amongst the mass of stuffed toys Enid kept on her bed. First on the docket was a “film” called Mean Girls, though Wednesday doubted the girls in question would live up to the levels of “meanness” she desired.
“Okay we got snacks, we got movies, all that’s left iiiiiis…” Enid brandished her hands, showing off the rainbow of nail polish bottles between her fingers. She grinned at the look of derision that Wednesday gave her. Fumbling with the bottles a little, she revealed a dark silver polish. “Will you please paint my nails, Wends? Pleaaaaaaase?” Enid pouted at her, widening her eyes for maximum patheticness, like a dog left in the rain.
Wednesday let out a long sigh of a breath. “Give me the bottle,” she said flatly. As Enid handed it over gleefully, Wednesday briefly contemplated whether drinking the silvery polish would be at all similar to drinking liquid mercury. Quicksilver had always fascinated her, beautiful yet deadly. What would it be like, to paint Enid’s nails in that toxic metal, to have her every touch burn. Horrible. Wednesday craved it.
The movie began, and so did Wednesday. She painted Enid’s nails with the same intense focus she used to scrape flesh off a body. Same basic movement, very different results. She tuned out the brightly colored schlock happening on the laptop’s screen, but was terribly aware of all the lines Enid said in unison with the movie. How disgustingly endearing, that she could recite her favorite parts by memory.
Enid’s nails were finished by the end of the movie, allowing Wednesday to fully pay attention to the “mean girl” getting hit by a school bus. Her eyes narrowed and her lips smirked in macabre pleasure at the sight, and Enid sighed. “I knew you’d like that part,” she said in fond? exasperation. When the movie finished, Enid moved as if to get up from the bed. Almost without thinking, Wednesday grabbed her wrist to stop her. At Enid’s quizzical look, Wednesday froze for a brief moment, before she waved the bottle of polish in front of Enid.
“I would be willing to forgo my usual black nail polish for this shade,” she said. Enid looked at her with wide eyes before a beaming grin split her face and she whooped in joy.
“Of course! Lemme set up the next movie and then I’ll def paint your nails!” As Enid sat forward to switch movies, Wednesday briefly reflected on her own desperation, that she would mistake Enid’s previous movements as her attempting to leave, and not merely reaching for the laptop. A pathetic mistake, but as Enid clasped her hand to remove the black polish, she found she did not mind as much as she should. And as the next movie played, one that in Enid’s words “was way more up your dark, scary alley,” Wednesday found something in her settle at the gentle hold of Enid’s hand as the teenagers on screen poisoned and shot their classmates. It would be worth the saccharine spectacle of matching nails, to spend this time with Enid.
Receiving Gifts
Wednesday sat on the balcony, waiting for Enid to return from her “gossip sesh” with Yoko. Everything was set. The flowers, the food, the gift. The musical accompaniment. All that was missing was the recipient. And then the window creaked open, and the tormentor of Wednesday’s thoughts climbed out onto the balcony.
“Hey roomie, Thing gave me your note! What did you wanna–oh, wow!” Enid cut herself off as she looked at the items Wednesday had carefully arranged on the table. “What pretty flowers!”
Wednesday tilted her head in acknowledgement of the praise. “I picked them carefully. The swine-pink ones are dog roses,” life, strength, and warding off evil spirits, “the blood-red ones are dahlias,” eternal love, “and the bone-white ones are–”
“Hemlock, right?” Enid interrupted, staring at the bouquet with wide eyes and an easy smile. Her hand hovered inches from the poisonous plant as she looked up and took in Wednesday’s slightly-wider-than-usual eyes. Enid grinned, her canines poking into her lip bashfully. “I’ve had to watch the same PSA about what plants to avoid when wolfing out since, like, third grade. Hemlock was one of the big ones.”
Blinking twice in rapid succession, Wednesday said, “Indeed, those are hemlock,” lover, you will be the death of me. She let out a deep, silent breath from her nose to release some of the overflowing emotion. “If you open the box in front of you, I daresay you’ll find another kind of plant you’re familiar with.”
Squealing happily, Enid yanked the lid off the box with all the glee of Pubert yanking the limbs off a doll. The joy on her face turned to astonishment as she drew out the necklace nestled within.
A steel chain, delicate yet strong, connected to a glass pendant. Trapped within the pendant was a wolfsbane flower growing from a silver bullet. Wednesday watched as Enid’s expression went from shock to a shy kind of pleased. Enid looked at Wednesday from below her lashes and said, “It’s beautiful…thank you Wednesday.” Words of love and devotion threatened to burst from Wednesday’s mouth in response. She swallowed thickly.
“I have also made you a traditional Addams family dinner.” Wednesday paused, before adding,“Without the moonflower, though. I assumed you haven’t built up a resistance.”
Enid let out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah, no shit. That’s why I had to watch the PSA.” Curiosity sparked, she uncovered the serving platter to reveal a tasteful portion of carne apache over arroz rojo. “Damn, this looks so good!” Enid licked her lips; Wednesday looked out over the balcony to compose herself. “But wait,” Enid added, “There’s only one plate.” Her face scrunched in confusion as she looked at Wednesday for answers.
“An astute observation,” Wednesday said primly, stepping back behind her cello and sitting down. “I will not be joining you in this dinner. Bon appetit.” And with that said, Wednesday began to play.
When she reached the chorus, Enid made a noise of excitement and hurriedly swallowed her bite of food. “This is Taylor Swift’s cardigan!” she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat.The cello screeched as Wednesday suddenly stopped playing. “It took me a sec ‘cuz it sounds kinda different but it’s definitely cardigan! Wednesday, did you learn to play a Swift song just for me?” Wednesday could practically see the stars in her eyes at the idea.
Best to nip that idea in the bud. Showing her hand too early could prove disastrous. “I was merely experimenting, to discover if those songs would be more palatable to the discerning ear if played in a minor key. Results are inconclusive.” She pinned Enid with a mild, scolding glare, and lifted the bow back to the strings. “Now be quiet, I have yet to finish.” Enid simply beamed at Wednesday and went back to eating, as the sounds of cello and scents of food and flowers filled the night air.
Words of Affirmation
The page in front of her was irritatingly blank. Wednesday tapped a finger against her desk, brows furrowed as though she was watching a banal sitcom. She shuddered at the memory of the bunch of Bradys that still haunted her nightmares, and not in the way she appreciated. Pushing away the recollections of that afternoon of summer camp cheer, Wednesday hovered her hands over the typewriter keys. How could she put into words the way Enid made her feel, the agony of her company, the torture of her touch? It seemed impossible.
The subject of her tormented thoughts burst into the room, lip quivering and eyes filled with tears that were yet to fall. Wednesday’s attention immediately snapped to her, and rage filled her veins in a way she had not felt since she had found Eugene savaged on the forest floor. The time previous to that, it was Pugsley in his locker that caused the wave of fury. “Who do I need to…speak to?” Wednesday asked, palming one of her many hidden daggers.
Enid shook her head and stifled a sob. “Please don’t, Wends,” she said, “It’s fine.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and Wednesday saw red.
She stood from her desk and strode over to her roommate. With a gentleness that contrasted her narrowed eyes and firm-set lips, Wednesday pulled Enid’s hand from her mouth. “What did they do?” she growled, intent on finding the most fitting punishment for their crimes against Enid.
Though she averted her eyes, as though trying to keep from crumbling in front of Wednesday’s intense gaze, Enid broke her silence and sobbed out, “It was nothing, they were just saying that it’s no wonder I got such ugly scars from that fight, since I’m such a weak excuse for a werewolf.”
If Wednesday thought her veins were filled with rage before, now they were coursing with a bloodlust so potent it threatened to consume her like hellfire. “Those pendejos must be as pathetic as their insults, to consider you as anything but the strongest person they’ve ever had the honor of seeing in their short, piteous little lives.” She hissed the words out with all the venom of an inland taipan.
Ignoring how Enid’s crumpled face opened in shock, Wednesday continued. “None of them could ever have the courage, the sheer force of will that you had that night, so they lash out in their jealousy against you. I expect that they’re all aware that any of them would have died if they had tried to do what you had, and their lamentable excuses for egos can’t handle that knowledge.” She had worked herself up into a lather, her words coming fast and harsh even as her face remained mostly impassive. “You are a bright beacon of strength and valor, and you always have been. As for the scars,” Wednesday brushed her hand against Enid’s hair, revealing said scars, “They are beautiful.” She looked Enid directly in her deep, blue eyes, trying to convey her utter seriousness. “They are beautiful, because you are beautiful.” Enid inhaled sharply. “You are beautiful down to your very core of being, beautiful and strong and deadly. If those perros callejeros cannot comprehend that in their tiny lumps of brain matter, it is their problem and theirs alone.”
Physical Touch
“Wednesday,” Enid breathed, eyes wide and tears gone. She opened and closed her mouth, as though unsure what to say. Wednesday cupped Enid’s jaw, resigning herself to her fate. She knew that once she opened this floodgate, it could never be closed again. And yet, she craved it, that out-of-control feeling that consumed her parents and now her.
“Mi amor,” Wednesday sighed out on a lovesick breath. “I would very much like to kiss you.” Instead of responding verbally, Enid all but threw herself into Wednesday’s arms, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss.
Wednesday wrapped her arms around Enid’s neck, returning the kiss with aplomb. She could feel the curse bubbling up within her, ready to engulf her entirely. She relished it. And as the two shared breath through their lips, Wednesday reveled in her successful wooing. Her skill in Romance languages continued unmatched. The feeling of Enid pressed against her slowly drained all coherent thoughts from her mind, but the last fully formed thought in her mind was ‘I wonder if Enid will appreciate my cunning linguistics.’