Chapter Text
Wednesday took a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, gently twirled it until it fell over the sleepy girl's eyes. It was strange. Even with the absurd variety of colors Enid insisted on dyeing her hair with, the chemicals hadn't damaged it as much as it should have. Even disheveled and wild after a night crumpled on the pillow as she sank her fingers into Enid’s scalp, Wednesday was surprised to find disconcerting softness. At first glance her wolf seemed to be made of nothing more than round edges, as smooth to the touch as if they had been obsessively polished by the pain that sturdy the girl’s sharp parts. Wednesday couldn't help herself but to wonder how much of this had been learned and how much of this had been intrinsic to Enid for her to have become so sweet that a single bite could crack the teeth? Did she know the extent of the danger her captivating smile posed to Wednesday's fragile heart? What a curious blade Enid had chosen, Wednesday would never have considered, even under the effects of the most powerful hallucinogens, that her dark soul could be pierced by affability.
Her past intentions, the path she had carefully assembled for herself vanished in the blink of an eye the instant Wednesday's chest tightened in the presence of another. All it took was one look, one miserable look at that smiling sunny face, at those stormy eyes holding whispers of lonely nights, and any and all of Wednesday's desire to escape exploded faster than a freshly opened grenade. The will capable of forcing herself to turn away and ignore these sudden troublesome new urges had been consumed by a greater and stronger one. Would it be so terrible to allow herself to sink into the curse capable of stealing her last breath? She had pondered this as she indulged her fingers in her new found thirsty for touch in the silky curls of her sleeping wolf. Even though this wasn’t just a matter of hair Wednesday was surprised for not loathing it either. Wednesday wondered if this had more to do with the girl's impeccable hair routine or a natural genetic resistance of werewolves. Perhaps both. It was one more thing on the box of wonders she associated with the sweet loving girl in her arms.
‘You are so enamored with her, it's almost as sweet as licorice.’
The possessive grip of another body lying on top of her was becoming something familiar no matter how much her insides twisted at the mere idea of a warm sigh brushing against her neck first thing in the morning. Calling Enid an exception to all the methodical rules Wednesday had claimed as absolute for herself seemed simplistic. Her eyes began to observe that angelic face disturbed by a prominent frown that seemed to persistently haunt the blonde's dreams. Enid grinded her canines as she slept most nights, a repressed primordial growl almost escaped her nibbled lips, the only requisite of wildness was the rhythmic vibration of her chest, the sublime act of a finely tuned instrument whose Wednesday’s fingers itched to be able to play. One of the few hidden clues to the afflictions that still plagued the sunshine girl, which her smile, although sincere, could not completely erase. A reminder that the creature she had been sharing her bed with was far from human. Far from average no matter what Enid's insecurities led her to believe.
Wednesday's chest burned with a delicious ache when Enid's claws, not fully in her splendid form, clawed at her arms in the middle of the night pulling the smaller girl closer, ripping the remaining of Wednesday's breath away with it. A marvelous sight to behold. Even in her unconscious state, Enid's control was exceptional, leaving no more than a few reddish reminders Wednesday found herself wishing had dug in a little deeper in order to break the skin. Wednesday's cheeks flushed slightly at the thought of indulging in this small aspect of carnal pleasure, even though this was far from being a new matter between the two. Wednesday's unfortunate condition imposed certain limits on how far they could go with their relationship, but that didn't mean she couldn't indulge in what was slowly becoming an addiction. A torturous obsession. They had been sharing the same bed for some time, ever since the night Enid scented her and yet each little touch didn't lessen the effect of melting all the functional gears she had left. What divine agony she chose for herself.
It was odd in some ways, many things have been modifying certain assumptions she had about intimacy and how she would react to it. In her view it was a nuisance, something she could force herself to tolerate if it came from a close relative for whom she retained a certain amount of affection. So yes, it was odd, almost inconceivable in a certain way to not see herself reluctantly endure being on the receiving end but to crave it to the point of needing this state of constant proximity more than she requires water to quench her thirst. It should have been suffocating. She should have wanted to stick a sharp blade in the girl's joints and twist it for daring to approach her. Yet, there she was, letting herself sink into that tight embrace, loving the pressure above her, loving the heat emanating from the furnace that was the wolf girl. Her wolf girl. Her Enid. For someone who preferred the cold of a freshly dug grave, this was somewhat flustering.
‘You can’t get enough of her, can you?’
The naturalness with which she not only received these simple gestures of affection but managed to provide Enid with a few of her own was almost a surreal work of the strings of fate. As strong as her Addams genes were, she didn't expect to be anywhere near good at it. It was both a surprise and a relief she hadn't ruined everything yet. That her cadaverous touch could be seen with so much resplendence, so much reverence and softness that she choked on her words every time she looked into those stormy blue eyes. Wednesday wasn't sure if she had been mimicking the shadows of love she had seen over the years or if in fact this behavior had always been intrinsic to her, it just needed the right set of circ*mstances, a trigger to be manifested in the first place. Love. An emotion Wednesday had understood in a logical way, an abstract sense she was unable to achieve from the beginning, was meant to be for Enid and no one else. Yes. Her heart, the one that had frozen in her chest at her birth, the one who refused to beat without the assistance of cogs, gears and black magic so strong capable of subduing any will had rejected her because Wednesday had never been its real owner.
It had been Enid all along.
“Wens…” Enid murmured in her semi-sleep state, nuzzling her nose against Wednesday's neck, a contented grunt leaving her lips as she reveled in the scent of her mate “I can feel you staring.”
Wednesday could feel the corners of her lips threatening to rise, what was this girl turning her into, a smiling fool? No way “Would you rather if I didn't?”
Enid didn't respond right away, too preoccupied with snuggling against her mate, leaving Wednesday to enjoy the pressure a body on top of her had to offer. Wednesday had to admit mornings like these weren't entirely unpleasant, the few samples she'd had collected during those days that they had been sharing together were proving to be something to look forward to.
Something to crave.
“Not so early in the morning.” Enid's fangs brushed over Wednesday’s neck as the girl snorted, Wednesday's pulse quickening despite that being by far the effect Enid wanted to have on Wednesday at the instant “Go back to sleep Wens, we don't have any classes until later.”
A shame some things couldn’t be helped too far away from Wednesday's control to be reached, Enid would have to hold responsibility for her devious ways. For numbing Wednesday's desire for solitude. For tormenting her with warmth. A strange ache surrounded Wednesday's miserable chest when she heard that Leviathan's melody pulling her deep to steal all the air from her, drowning her without even needing a drop of water as the ocean had been concealed in Enid’s voice. Her throat closed with the taste of iron, her wide eyes not wanting to look away from the cuddling beast that had encaged Wednesday in her arms. The ache only managed to increase as her poor overworking clock kept attempting in vain to continue with its arduous task. Smothering by words, what an ironic end for a writer. Yet, nothing would be more worthy than the one who made Wednesday get a taste of the curse being the Lady of the beasts.
Wednesday adjusted herself on the bed, the covers falling off Enid's shoulders as she stirred. Some of the skin on Enid's strong arms had been exposed from the action, leaving Wednesday's throat as dry as a cactus near the end. She wouldn't deny that Enid was a very active person who participated in various extracurricular activities including dancing and fencing, two activities known to be able to develop an individual's muscle tone; yet seeing herself close to those thick guns that hold her with such sweetness in their grip made Wednesday gears whir, compressing her chest almost as if stopping time. Her time in this case. Her chest ached with a different kind of heat radiated through her body, Wednesday could feel her pale cheeks threatening to gain some color as she became hyper-aware of all the exposed skin coming into direct contact with Enid beneath the remains of the covers. Worst of all, she had no intention of alleviating her annoying symptoms by committing the atrocious mistake of looking away.
What lunatic would even attempt to deny this sigh of the sleeping blonde?
If not even a nightmare was capable of doing justice to the divinity gracing her, how did Enid expect Wednesday to be able to go back to sleep now that her pupils were dilated trying to absorb every inch of the spring girl pressing against her? Enid was a masterpiece of a girl, her own Galatea. What was the reason for the existence of beauty if not to be appreciated? If not to be consumed and praised? Enid deserved to be celebrated, adored, cherished as the precious creature she was, anything less would be an insult. Anything less would constitute a reason for war. Wednesday would not tarnish her honor with the offense of denying her wolf, no matter how many gears and cogs she lost in the process. Wednesday would kneel on broken glass, hands bound behind her back with steel restraints, a dagger held to her throat just waiting for the command of the one in control of Wednesday's heart rate to prove just a piece of her devotion if she needed to.
Who was the tearful Algea in the face of beauty?
“I don't remember providing you with any form of verbal consent to this meaningless shortening of my name.” Wednesday let the words flow with a playful air, having no intention of adhering to Enid's request for her to return to the realm of dreams.
‘I don't blame you, only fools would sleep in the presence of a muse.’
Enid sighed, reluctantly opening her eyes to stare at the girl who was stroking her hair with an exceeding soft manner “Well, since you vetoed babycakes I had to think of something else to call you.”
Enid said it as if it were fact, as if it made sense despite the clear confusion in Wednesday's furrowed brows. What in the world… Enid couldn't blame Wednesday for abhorring such a generic and uncreative term of endearment. Wednesday holds no responsibility for not being able to control her facial expressions upon hearing such outrageous horror, even when they come from her beloved's honey lips Wednesday had yet to have a taste. Her devotion could be endless but her patience had limits. Enid didn't seem to be on the path to test it since she gave up the nickname the moment she realized it didn't please Wednesday, but still…
“Is there something wrong with my name?” Wednesday asked in a slightly more serious tone, her eyebrows had yet to leave their frowning state from trying to understand Enid's insistence on the matter.
Despite what her pride dictates Wednesday was unsure if this was some social cue she wasn't picking up on or if there was another reason behind it.
An unusual hint of insecurity must have permeated her voice as Enid took Wednesday's chin between her delicate fingers, claws retracted, eyes serious despite her drowsiness “No, like most things about you I adore your name, it suits you well.” Enid's smooth honest tone managed to ease Wednesday's mind, her forehead touched Wednesday's in a gesture more wolfish than human, as if to bring her comfort. To shoot Wednesday worries right on the target “But I also like to have a caring way of referring to my mate, one that only I am allowed to call you. Still, I understand that this isn't your thing, if it really bothers you I'll stop trying to give you a cute nickname.”
Enid moved away, getting up from Wednesday's body and rolling to the side of the bed, to let the statement sit. Perhaps she had been seeing this from a crooked angle all along. If it was a mate thing it was a wolf thing and It was too close to a claim for Wednesday to continue to ignore. Yet it seems Enid was given her an out. But why? It wasn't as if she bordered on an aversion to terms of endearment; her parents occasionally referred to her with several of them and she didn't bat an eye. Enid hadn't had much contact with Wednesday's parents other than the brief introduction on the first day of school so she had no way of knowing this information, yet she had been trying in her uncharacteristically shy way to request a claim. If Wednesday had been looking into Enid’s eyes she would have seen the uncertainty dancing over them, the force of the plea almost tearing Enid's lips apart. A different kind of ache twisted her gears as she reached the fateful conclusion.
This relationship was also new for Enid and unlike Wednesday who self-isolated for the sake of pleasure, Enid, a werewolf, a social being by definition had been left aside by her peers, by her family. A werewolf who couldn't shift, unable to free herself from the human shell, Enid would have no one to respond to her call. Loneliness and fear had been pressing on Enid since the first moon so many nights ago she was forced to see it pass without gaining fur. The constant rejection of the pack that was supposed to support her made her starved of affection, of acceptance, Enid had no idea how to ask for the simplest things without fearing sounding like an inconvenience. A burden. Yet there she was, bearing a vulnerable side of herself to Wednesday. Her mate. The person who accepted her for the moment their eyes crossed without thinking twice about it. Her attempt to give Wednesday a nickname was a good start in declaring her uncertain wishes, Wednesday would have preferred a bite, or perhaps four pairs of jagged claw lines on her back, but if Enid wanted to start small she didn't mind indulging.
“If it's a matter between mates, I can allow Wens as long as you honor to not abuse it outside the confines of this room.” Wednesday conceded, her eyes focused on Enid's back as her fingers traveled over the girl's shoulders.
It could have lasted less than a minute but Wednesday's itching for touch hadn't subsided yet. These strange urges that kept emerging were something not even distance, however little it was, could alleviate. Allowing herself to sink into Enid for eternity and beyond was a growing addiction Wednesday had lost any will to fight it. If there ever was one. Enid seemed to have the same thought because it didn't take long for her to wrap herself in Wednesday's arms again.
Neither of them had been discreet with their affection, not that they ever intended to be for the sake of secretiveness. Wednesday might not be as open as her parents, but those two March hares were on the other end of the spectrum so it wouldn't be a fair comparison… It wouldn't matter anyway. In a school full of supernatural beings with heightened senses, it would be hard to miss that Wednesday reeked of Enid. The wolf felt much more at ease after having a well-established set of boundaries on how far she could let herself go that Enid allowed herself to take advantage of the proximity for as long as she could. Enid might not know how to ask but she was willing to take anything Wednesday had to offer. She liked to hold hands as they walked down the halls, to sit next to Wednesday at lunch so close that their legs could intentionally brushed together, to take Wednesday's fingers between her own and play with them when she couldn't pay attention to a boring lesson, to stick her nose into Wednesday's neck the minute they were alone away from prying eyes. Such delicious small acts of torture she wielded so diligently over Wednesday's clock.
Wednesday hadn't imposed much beyond the obvious, yet despite the excessive amount of affection Wednesday had been exposed to Enid always remained attentive, making good use of her keen senses to see if she was overwhelming her precious little mate. An undeniable protective instinct always willing to serve, taking good care to never ask for too much despite the clear hunger she felt over her pulse as Wednesday, who bore the same curse, pulled her closer. Getting intoxicated on those golden curls was almost like tasting ichor straight from an open vein. A delicious woe. Enid's self-control and attentiveness towards Wednesday could have been the finest definition of a heart attack if the machinery keeping her alive was made of flesh.
Wednesday could repay the deference… with some reason.
Some conditions should be imposed in order to reach a mutually beneficial agreement. Nothing much since It was more a matter of possessiveness than shyness. Wednesday wouldn't apologize for throwing knives, but knowing Enid it was best to minimize opportunities capable of triggering her violent tendencies. If she was going to grant Enid permission to tarnish her name like that it should be a matter to be whispered between lovers. To be used during heartful declarations, stolen glances and the occasional colorful post-its with captivating messages Enid seemed to be somewhat obsessed with and to which Wednesday responded with elaborate letters of her own. The contractual aspect of the agreement was more of a catastrophe prevention. A guarantee Wednesday would not rip out the guts of the first unfortunate fool who, through an oversight of reason, decided it would be a funny idea to call her by the nickname that should only be pronounced by Enid's honey lips.
‘The way you say it makes it sound like a sacrilege, you have already fallen beyond repair for her, don't you?’
“It’s not exactly a mate thing.” Enid tried to play like it was a frivolous matter by dismissing the mate thing, although Wednesday was certain it was far from the case. Wednesday recognized a wolf claim when she saw one “It's mostly one of the ways I like to show affection, I do it with my close friends too, didn’t you notice I call Yoko bats sometimes?”
Wednesday made a face, which Enid hadn't seen because she was happy snuggling in the little spoon position, when her precious ears were subjected to listening to Yoko’s name before she even had the pleasure of enjoying a scalding cup of coffee between her fingers “I'm not one to overlook your words but every time the vampire is involved I must admit that my brain doesn't attempt to make an effort in retaining any type of information on her regard, even if it ends up proving useful later.”
Yoko had been some sort of an acquired taste if Wednesday was going to use simplistic basic terms for the benefit of the leech’s understanding. Yoko, with her irreverent personality and humor bordering on vulgar most of the time, was the fine example of a perfect victim for thirty axes to the head. Of course, pack alliances for a werewolf were an important matter, and Wednesday was more than pleased that despite Enid not being recognized in the way she should be by her own species, Enid had managed to find solace to form her own pack. So the only saving grace of the vampire was the fact that for an unknown reason Enid seems to like her and Wednesday couldn't dig graves for the friends who stayed loyal to her precious wolf no matter how deeply annoying they were. For Enid she would bear it, although being put in the same boat as Yoko left Wednesday in a sour mood and Enid picked up on that.
“I thought the two of you were getting along?”
Despite the amount of murderous glares and barbs exchanged Wednesday couldn't say she completely despised the heiress of the Tanaka clan. Yoko and Enid shared several common interests, going so far as to speak in strange codes that made Wednesday question their sanity at times. As far as everything indicated, despite being utterly annoying, the vampire seemed genuine in her affection for her cacophony of color wolf. So they establish a certain non-verbal agreement to play nice and try to not to kill each other for Enid's sake, but to say they were getting along? It was a bit of a stretch.
“I tolerate her presence.” Wednesday responds honestly, seeing no reason to hide the truth from Enid.
Yoko and Wednesday's personalities just weren't made to click, too disparate and not the same kind of disparate as she and Enid, Wednesday's spring bringer of destruction. Her sweet sunny wolf was her complementary opposite while Yoko was nothing more than an annoying faux goth mosquito Wednesday would have no remorse in crushing under her boot.
“Which means you two are basically besties.” Enid pressed her head onto Wednesday's shoulder, her eyes retaining a certain sparkle as she peered at Wednesday's outraged expression.
“I'd rather stick needles in my eyes than be associated with that bloodsucker.” How vicious, Wednesday had never thought she could be so offended and it wasn't even noon yet.
“You would do that for fun.” Enid rolled her eyes as she took a lock of Wednesday's bangs between her fingers and twirled it, letting the hair, now slightly curly, rest on the forehead of a contemplative Wednesday.
‘She knows you so well.’
You're lucky to be dead.
“I would, but that does not lessen the truth in my words, it would be a much more enjoyable matter than having to put up with her presence.” Wednesday took Enid's distracted hand, which seemed to be about to undo her braids, bringing Enid's palm to her cheek.
Enid was quick to respond and unleashed just enough of her claws to caress Wednesday's soft skin. Wednesday allowed herself to melt under the touch, even letting out a silent sigh of contentment Enid was only able to listen due to her keen hearing.
“This is your way of saying you are not going to girls' night?” Enid asked after a few seconds of silence between the two.
Wednesday might not be the best at reading social cues but after spending so much time studying even the tiniest of nuances of her mate's expressions and behavior even she was able to notice the hidden disappointment Enid was trying not to let show in her voice.
“No, I will attend.” Wednesday assured Enid in a serious tone that left no doubt of her commitment “I promised you I would and to be honest when you mentioned the night's activities I thought it sound like a custom torture chamber. It's been a while since I underwent a session and since I have no intention of becoming rusty I don’t see a reason to skip.”
Enid bit her lip, trying in vain to suppress a smile as she turned to face Wednesday with a look so bright it should have been illegal. Wednesday's chest burned as she swallowed hard at the sight. Wednesday was aware that to love with utter abandonment was to accept defeat. To recognize sharing is not a possibility since it had never even been an available option. It's an enter and robbery, a devastation of self. A soul could not sustain itself when stabbed, broken into unequal parts, love was never supposed to be kind, never supposed to take the shape of a smiling girl. It’s supposed to rip, to devastate, to ravish, to torture a soul with the smallest acts of affection. A fainting breath, all it took was a muscular contraction of the face and her cogs went to the clouds. Her reason forever lost. Is death by a smile what would be written in Wednesday's obituary? In a way, she didn't seem to care about the weapon used to take her last breath as long as it came from Enid.
“Thanks Wens.” Wednesday didn't quite understand what she was being thanked for but she wasn't crazy enough to reject the pair of delicious claws brushing over her neck “We can have a date later, just the two of us, you can choose the place or if you are not feeling sociable I can leave you alone for an afternoon so you can decompress by playing your cello and work on your manuscript. Your call.”
Wednesday appreciated the offer of being left to her own devices and was sure if she requested it, Enid would have no problem taking her nail kit with Thing for a manicure session full of gossip to distract herself while Wednesday delved deeper into her interests. Still, no matter how tempting the offer was, despite all the time they had spent together, dates, as in planned outings with a courting intention, weren't something they discussed much. Come to think of it, aside from the times Enid had snuck into her bed with her laptop and introduced Wednesday to the concept of movie night, they hadn't had anything close to a proper date in her book. A wave of shame came over Wednesday at the dreadful realization. They had yet to have their first date. What kind of girlfriend was she? Her father would have dishonored her, with reason, if he heard Wednesday had been neglecting the proper steps of the courtship process. What kind of Addams was she? Could she still claim her place as Enid's mate after such an insult to their relationship? Wednesday had to fix this absurd error quickly, she had an opportunity in her hands and she was not going to waste it.
“A date would be a satisfactory reward.” Wednesday declared with slightly red cheeks that had nothing to do with the fact she was poorly asking Enid out on what would be their official first date “I have been meaning to check out the nearby cemetery for a while. From what I hear It would be a nice place for a romantic picnic.”
Wednesday would measure no effort to make this the best first date Enid had ever had in her entire life. A candlelit dinner with an orchestra playing funeral marches was the traditional approach, but after Enid had exposed her to the abominable concept of a rom-com, Wednesday had a good idea that Enid valued the effort and attention put into the date more than the ambiance. Wednesday could find a good crypt, some blankets, prepare Enid's favorite dishes with Thing's help, maybe even a romantic walk over the tombs. It would be perfect, everything Enid’s deserved, she would make sure of it.
“You are so very lucky I find your creepy self endearing.” Enid poked Wednesday's cheek, distracting her from her evil plans of romanticizing her wolf for a second.
Wednesday raised one of her eyebrows, Enid hadn't spoken in an insulting tone and even if she had, it was closer to a compliment in Wednesday's view than anything else “I do recall you telling me not so many minutes ago you adore most things about me.”
If Enid thought Wednesday hadn't paid attention to what she said she was sorely mistaken since those words were carved in Wednesday's chest for eternity. Wednesday had no shame in using them in her favor, because if flirting was a game Wednesday was the ultmost dirty player.
“Your co*ckiness is not one of them, even if it’s kind of hot when it comes from you.” Enid admitted without a hint of shame, a mischievous smile playing over her lips, her eyes shining as her nose brushed over Wednesday's collarbone.
‘You might be the dirtiest but she is by far the shameless.’
“If you say so.”
Wednesday greed seemed to have no end when it came to touching the cornea-burning rainbow she called her mate. So they stayed in bed for a while longer, until Enid's stomach started to growl. They went down to eat, Wednesday already mentally preparing herself to face Yoko and Enid's other friends, her chest tightening. The pain, almost constant, weighs in a weird way on her despite the last repairs not having taken place that long ago. Strange. The ache wasn't new but its familiarity was a little disconcerting.
It was almost as if something, without her permission, was attempting to grow in her chest cavity.
