Just..

At first, you didn't even realize you were doing it. You could be sitting next to the raven-haired girl in class, having some lunch together, reading books in the library, or on your occasional walks around town, and you only have one single recurring thought that you can't seem to get out of your mind; 

Wednesday Addams—your precious sadistic little girlfriend—is so pretty.  

And not to be shallow or anything; after all, you like her for many different things. Her intelligence, wittiness, and her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Her obsession with everything macabre, the monochromic-colored outfits that perfectly suit her, and the way she uses words you can't even begin to comprehend half the time. 

But then there's the way her hair has that lustrous glow, and then the rare grin she cracks when it's just the two of you, the constant little pout in her lips, and don't even start about her plump dark burgundy lips; Oh, you wanna kiss her-  

"-so bad," you mumbled out absent-mindedly, and Wednesday slowly looked up from her double cap—mouth gaping slightly at the suddenness of your words—her eyes blinking rapidly at you.  

"Oh- no no no I was just thinking and I got distracted because your lips look SO pretty!" Your voice was louder than you had intended for it to be, and you quickly covered your mouth—a pointless act as the slip-up had already been done. 

Wednesday only spared you a sharp glare before standing up from your shared sofa booth, already heading towards the Cafe entrance. Before you can even explain yourself, she had already bolted out, leaving you and her double cap behind. 

You know that Wednesday is not big on PDAs; soft kisses and gentle touches are reserved for private quarters. And even then, you can tell that her moves are calculated—afraid of doing too much that she'd find herself in a compromising position. 

But you didn't miss the darkening of her freckle-painted cheeks as she snuck a peek at your figure from outside Weathervane, and that's when you realized; 

Oh.  

Well, this is gonna be fun. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk to your dorm room with a dopey grin on your face, recounting the things that happened earlier.  

You've figured it all out. Wednesday might act like she isn't affected by other people's words and opinions about her—and in most cases, this is true—except when it comes from you.  

She caught you wearing a hoodie of hers? Now you have three more in your closet. You respond a beat late to some disputable thing she mentions? She immediately apologized for being insensitive and asked your take on the subject. You told her that she looked good in that checkered sweater? Now she wears the piece of garment all the time. Ask her to binge-watch all 10 seasons of My Little Pony with you? It would give her nightmares for weeks, yes, but absolutely.  

You quickly realize that you're one of the few people lucky enough to have Wednesday tolerate you to a certain degree. So you do the obvious—run after Wednesday after leaving some money on the table, and then shout at the top of your lungs, "I LIKE YOUR LIPS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS"  

You swear to God, you've never seen someone bolt out of your view so quickly. She didn't even spare a single disapproving glance at you—on normal occasions she would—but now, as people stop in their tracks to see who your words are pointed to, she's gone, nowhere to be seen.  

It's cute, how much she's affected by your words. And that's why, as you open your dorm room door, you walk straight to your thinking desk past a figure, planning to come up with new ways to fluster your girlfriend. 

Wait. Past a figure? 

You turn your head to see Wednesday Addams standing still, looking daggers at you, and you know things are about to go down.  

You smile coyly at her while taking a seat. The raven-haired girl's gaze trails your every movement. She looks almost predatory in this state. Like she's about to tear you apart to shreds. 

You hold your head high as you speak, "Is something wrong, Wens?" A pet name. You've heard Wednesday made it clear time and time again to Enid that she was against pet names. And you've never called her one before. But you're willing to gamble your life this time just to see how far she would tolerate you. 

So you maintain your perfect facade, and it was all worth it as you see Wednesday's eyes widen at the morbidity of your words—the good kind, you'd assume—and you saw her mouth open and close a couple of times, trying to say something deprecating and failing acutely.  

She stands awkwardly like that for a moment; her hands making little gestures as if she was trying to make a point while maintaining her look of utter disbelief at your behavior. 

You figured if you didn't egg on her a little more, she wouldn't let her guard down, so you decided to turn your back on her and pulled out a book to read. 

"What are you doing?" You can hear the stress in her words. You can picture her look right now; her jaw clenched, teeth gritted, brows furrowed in dismay. 

"I'm reading a book, as you can see with those pretty brown eyes of yours." You flipped a few pages, eyes tracing along the shape of letters and words, not really paying any mind to the actual content. 

"All right then," exasperation is evident in her voice, and you have to fight yourself from snickering at the situation. 

You've always been very careful around Wednesday, trying not to agitate her into giving you snarky comments—she still gives them nonetheless, and you find it amusing as time goes by—but curiously, she's not giving you any at the moment. And if you are to guess, it's probably because she physically can't bash you for your words. Not when she's fighting for her life with feelings she refuses to acknowledge most of the time. 

You hear her footsteps grow distant—she's heading for the door, you figured—and you don't even bother to look up as you say, "Come back soon, tesoro,"  

The sound of footsteps ceased. 

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" You can tell by Wednesday's voice that she is trying so hard not to burst at your display—you were never like this after all—from rage or the compliments, you don't know. But you figure you'll find out if you pick the right words. 

"Keep doing what, Wens?" You spin in your chair to her, your voice dripping with honey, with faux innocence. You can see her face turn colors into one of carnation, her lips thinning into a line as she tears her gaze apart from you. 

"You. Know. What." Wednesday strains every word, her tone is low as if to intimidate you, but you know the ball is in your court. 

"What? Telling you how pretty your lips are? In front of a lot of people? 

"Yes, exactly-" 

"And that I wanna kiss those lips of yours so badly? Dark plump lips like yours are my favorite, by the way," you look at her in the eyes as you speak, and you let your gaze trail down her face, and Wednesday fidgets with the hem of her top. 

"Oh wait, actually, you are my favorite." 

Wednesday glares at you—an act that usually works with Enid and everyone else when she wants to avoid certain conversations—but you are unfazed. You have her exactly where you want right now, and judging by the absence of a knife in her hand, you're going to assume that she's more than okay with what you're doing.  

"But wait. Oh. Is this about the fact that I know you blushed so hard when I complimented you? Every single time, did you notice that?" You stood up from your seat, throwing the book atop your desk.  

"I know you like it, Wens," you smirked, the nickname easily sliding out your tongue the more you said it, "I know you like me."  

"Oh, you are so full of yourself-" 

"You know what else I like? The way your pout grows bigger—as we're speaking right now, yes," and you see her face growing a scowl as you take a step closer towards her, "and now you're clenching your jaw slightly, god, you look so cute doing that."  

"I do not look cute, and if you cut my words off-" 

"Do you know that your micro facial expressions are probably the most adorable thing I ever get to witness?" 

"-again, I will cut your tongue and force-feed it to you."  

You ignore your girlfriend's words, continuing the torture you've devised for her. "No, not probably. Definitely the most adorable thing ever."  

A broad grin sprouted on your face, the one Wednesday always calls 'the idiotic grin' but you know she secretly likes it, and you can't be happier right now. You're experiencing a power trip; adrenaline rushing through you to continue your teasing despite the possibility of being mute in the future. 

"And that? Right there. Just now. The way you just announce dangerous threats? And sometimes about people's demise? Now, that is attractive."  

Wednesday decided that she's had enough of your antics. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, and you trail after her out of your dormitory. 

"Do not follow me," Wednesday hushed, and you walk beside her trying to catch up as she seems to speed up her pace.  

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be walking in the same direction- Oh, hi Bianca!" You see the girl waving back at you as you both walk through the quad; Wednesday did not acknowledge Bianca's presence as usual. 

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Remember when you totally beat the shit out of Bianca in that oral test last week? That is also incredibly attractive."  

Wednesday seemed to pay no mind as you continued your horrible strings of compliments, except for the fact that she's practically running through the corridors right now, embarrassed of being caught blushing by any of her peers. 

You know that at this point, you're threading a thin line between her turning into putty at your words or her leading you to a grave site, ready to smash your head with a rock once you get there. 

Well, she's heading towards Ophelia Hall now, so it's safe to say you won't be visiting the realms of the dead today. 

"It would be wise for you to quit whatever skulduggery you're doing if you don't want me to slice your head off at fencing class-," 

You raise your hand in mock defeat at her words, and you can see Wednesday's knuckles turn white in a fist as she continued her words, "-which will start in a couple of hours. So, leave me-" 

"Oh yeah, that got me thinking of how good you look when fencing. I mean, there's a reason why I never ever spar with you during class."  

"Yes, and it is your remarkable ineptitude in the sport." 

You shoot her a look of false hurt at her words, "How dare you- Well. I mean yes, but also have you seen yourself?" You speak out of breath, your legs slowly catching up with Wednesday's pace.  

"Yes, of course. I've been staring at a mirror in the middle of my sparring," Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, "and that's why I've been on a losing-" at this, you can see Wednesday practically seethe in anger as she chokes the word out, "-streak against Bianca Barclay."  

"No, silly, it's because I would be in complete awe," you decided not to comment further on the sore issue, opting to clear out the tension with—yes you guessed it—more compliments.  

"I mean, the all-black outfit? Your menacing strikes and your calculated steps, not to mention your disheveled hair and the concentrated look on your face?" You clasp your hand in front of your chest, eyes looking up dreamily at the memory, while the girl beside you scoffed in irritation. 

You're now at Ophelia Hall, and Wednesday continues her brisk walk toward her shared dorm room. You don't have much time left if you want to break her composed demeanor. 

"And yes, if I sparred with you, the exact situation you mentioned earlier would've happened. My head sliced off the very first second into the spar." 

"And I'd assume you wouldn't want that. So don't make me do it." 

"Quite the contrary, I wouldn't mind. I bet dying by such skillful hands would be an amazing experience." 

You can see the door now. Wednesday knows this as well. If she gets inside and locks you out, maybe you'll shut up and spare her from the torture that makes her gut feel like it's ripping her apart from the inside. 

"What do you think of adding my head as a mount on your room's wall? I'm sure Thing would appreciate the addition of another dismembered body part in the room." 

If Wednesday wasn't agitated before, she definitely is now. As she opens the door to her dorm room and turns her body to you, you can see that not only are her cheeks of blossoming color, the tips of her nose and ears are as well! It's as if this is the first time blood has rushed to her face, and you'd argue that she looks dangerously magnificent like this; face sneering but eyes unable to maintain eye contact with you. 

She spared you only a short pointed glare, before closing the door to your face. You can hear her voice ring moments later, "Stop pestering me on my writing time or I will take you up on that offer. If you decide to omit my warning, make sure you say something adequate, as I will personally make sure it will be written on your gravestone as your last words."  

Her threats have never felt so empty, not with her obviously shaky voice—not when you know she's staring at her typing paper blankly right now, unable to type a single word as you can't hear any clacking sound of the machine's keys. 

The gears in your mind turn at an insane speed, and with the bravado only you possess, you belt your next words for the whole dormitory to hear,  

"I AM CRAZY FOR YOU, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!" 

There was only silence. Then, you hear the rapid clickety-clack of your girlfriend's shoes, and you jump backward when Wednesday yanked the door open. 

This is it, you thought.  

You had been too cocky, thinking that you could get away with harassing the raven-haired girl—if compliments can be considered harassment, that is—and now you're going to pay the price. In the most gruesome way imaginable, if you know anything about your girlfriend. 

Wednesday storms at you, and before you can even try to escape, you feel her arms wrapped strongly around your figure in a death grip. She's about to tackle you to death, and you brace yourself for the upcoming impact- 

-that never comes? Her arms just stay there, her head buried against your chest, and you are at a loss for words. 

It's unfair, how easily she makes you feel flustered. You've been trying to get a reaction out of her all this time, and she barely cracks. But now as she hugs you, you practically melt into her embrace; your mischievous agenda is long forgotten. 

When you regain your senses, you take a breath— about to comment on the situation before she cuts you off with a; 

"Shut up. I hate you."  

You smirk at her words before sighing in contentment, eyes closing as you soak in the rare moment, "I love you too." 

"But I will never shut up about this- OW-" 

Wednesday left you rolling on the floor in pain after landing a punch in your guts. 

When you were around Wednesday, the butterflies rustling around your stomach turned into a stampede of wild animals, unbeknownst to you Wednesday felt the same — though you might admit it, she never would — Wednesday felt her heart flutter the moment she laid her eyes on you. If she hadn’t known any better she would have thought there was something wrong with her.

From the moment you met one another in Ophelia Hall, you knew you’d fall for the dark haired girl. You weren’t sure what exactly brought your attention to her, maybe her dark sense of humor or when you were paired to work at Weathervane together and you’d crack stupid jokes and see a small ghost of a smile on Wednesdays face.

Fast-Forward, six months later you were sitting in Ms. Thornhills class, you were seated in the back of the small room — you’d playfully dragged her behind you to the desks but she hadn’t put up any sort of fight — when you’ve pulled out your notebooks your hand unconsciously gravitated towards hers. You knocked your hand into her own playfully to get her attention. The dark haired girl swiftly placed her hand in yours comfortably before looking to the front of the room where Ms. Thornhill had begun speaking.

Wednesday’s hands would always linger on your skin, no matter the reason why, it was something you noticed early on — though you weren’t complaining, you loved it. Out of your friends, she only ever became physical with you. Over time it became increasingly more apparent to not only you, but most others around you. Some days she would link her pinky finger with yours as you walked the halls, others she would wrap her hand around your waist and pull you toward her side. It became more of a thing in your shared classes as well. Especially in Thornhills class, the two of you shared not only a favorite class but a favorite teacher too.

As you were working on the assignment that Ms. Thornhill had given at the beginning of the class you were leant over whispering sweet words into Wednesday’s ear all while giving her small kisses when Thornhill approached your table. Quickly you separate from your girlfriend, the work on the table was suddenly much more intriguing.

“Miss L/N, you aren’t in trouble, you can look at me.” she says with a soft smile on her lips.

“I just have to say girls, the other day Principal Weems brought something to my attention and I think I must agree with her. You two are just like your parents, Wednesday. Morticia and Gomez never could keep their hands to themselves, it seems neither can you.” she grins when she sees the blush that was brought to Wednesday’s cheeks. She wasn’t alone, as you could feel the heat rushing to your own face.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. It’s quite adorable actually.”

You smile as the redhead walks back to her desk, waiting until she turns to let your head fall onto Wednesday’s shoulder and let out your laughter.

“Oh my god I can’t believe she just compared us to your parents.”

“Well, it seems that we’ve got some catching up to do, next time they’ll be the ones compared to us.” she sighs, turning your head to face hers and she presses her lips to yours with a small smile.

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© kolsmikaelson 2022. do not copy, translate or repost my work!

Letting you sleep on her shoulder. 

“Red carnation means love, while yellow carnation means rejection. Now, can anyone tell me—“ 

You blinked slowly, too drowsy to focus on your class. With all your assignments, you were not able to get any sleep last night— and the caffeine you consumed was not helping at all. 

You yawned, straightening your back, trying to wake yourself up. But it was no use— your eyelid just got heavier and heavier as minutes passed by, and you knew you couldn’t stay awake for long.

With thirty minutes left in class, your head flopped onto your girlfriend’s shoulder— you passed out in less than a second.

Wednesday went stiff by your sudden touch— furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. She snapped her head towards you, only to be greeted by the view of you sleeping— eyes closed, soft breathing ticking her nose. She stared at your sleeping form for longer than necessary, before focusing back to class.

She ignored the looks her classmates gave her the whole session.

2. Walking with you, shoulders brushing against each other.

“—and Enid, she nearly threw her phone in the lake! She was like—“ Giggles rang through the hallway as you laughed at the memory. “Enid is so funny. No wonder she’s so popular!”

Wednesday only hummed in reply, watching you talk excitedly. You turned to look at her, grinning softly. 

“Anyway, how was your day?” You asked, “I haven’t seen you at all today. Having different classes can be a real pain sometimes.” 

“Horrible.” Came a reply, making you chuckle. “You always say that. Some originality, please?” You teased, before looking up to the sky.

The sky was dark, but studded with shimmering stars. The moonlight shone over you and your lover, like a giant spotlight on a stage. 

“Huh.” You let out, “It's a full moon.” 

Wednesday’s eyes followed yours, before tracing back to your face. 

“Beautiful, hm?” You sighed out, admiring the view. 

The raven haired girl only brought herself closer to you— shoulders brushing— in response.

3. Her writing time, with your playlists

“—I never knew— you could hold moonlight in your hands, ‘Till the night I held you—“ 

You were on your girlfriend’s bed, flipping through the pages of your book. The familiar melody rang in the room, making you hum to the tune. 

“These lyrics are going to make me throw up.” Wednesday said monotonously without stopping her typing. You laughed, closing your book and putting it away on the nightstand beside you.

“Imagine that it’s me singing the lyrics. Maybe it’ll help.” You smiled jokingly, “Although I could never beat Ariana’s singing, she’s too good.” You gushed, lying down to face the ceiling. 

A moment passed before your girlfriend’s voice interrupted the comfortable silence.

“It still makes me nauseous.” 

“However, it made the song less agonizing to listen to.”

4. Being with you when you cry

You curled up into a ball against the wall, unable to contain the cries that threatened to slip past your lips. 

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, but the tears kept coming, and coming, and coming..

You flinched when you heard someone approaching. You could tell it was your lover by the sound of her footsteps.

You felt her sit down beside you, her eyes straight ahead, without saying anything at all.

The two of you sat there until you were too tired to cry, until your hot tears dried up, unmoving throughout the whole process. 

“..thank you.” You whispered with your hoarse voice, finally turning your head to face the raven haired girl.

She met your eyes, and looked at you with her signature blank expression. 

But you knew the difference. Her eyes were softer. Her body wasn't as stiff as usual, and most importantly, she didn’t pull away when you reached for her hand. 

Although only the tip of your hand was touching the other’s, you could feel what she was trying to say.

‘I love you.’

And you loved her too.

-

this probably doesn’t make sense since I wrote this in an hour at 3am!! Forgive me for being so cheesy I hate this.

1.

Your hands snaked around Wednesday’s neck, pulling her closer as she pressed her lips against yours, soft pants slipping from your mouth. With her body pressed onto yours like a puzzle piece, you led the two of you back, climbing onto the desk behind you.

She pulled back— not even giving you a second to catch your breath— before kissing you again. The lack of air made the two of you dizzy, clouding your eyes. 

Even through your foggy vision, you could form her dark soft lips and her raven eyes in your mind. You smiled as you returned yet another kiss, your right hand traveling down to link your fingertips with hers.

You broke the kiss for a moment of pause, pulling back to admire the view. With the Wednesday addam’s eyes slightly droopy with exhaustion, the girl let out a small puff of pants before meeting her eyes with yours.

Your heart swelled with a massive amount of emotions as it pounded loudly in your ears. You could only look at her with adoration-filled eyes.

“Does this mean I get to go on a date with you now?” You asked sarcastically. 

“You can’t love me.” The girl answered so fast she almost cut you off. It was as if she already knew what you were going to ask. You smiled knowingly, before closing the distance between you once again. 

“Should've said that a long time ago.” 

2.

Roses. Sunflowers. Wednesday huffed in annoyance.

How could one call this freedom of choice? There were only eight kinds of seeds for her to choose– all of them she disliked. flowers like such made her dizzy to even look at, and they want her to grow them? A ridiculous idea. 

“--I think I’ll go with roses. It’s an obvious choice, but I like the meanings– true love, y’know? I like to think I’m a passionate person.” Your giggles made her way to her ears, piercing through the voices of the people around you.

“Plus, There’s someone I’ve been wanting to give this to. Good thing we get to grow this in class– I would’ve failed to do it by myself.” 

The raven haired girl slowly turned her head towards the voice, before stealing a glance of you. Your hair tucked behind your ears, laughing about something your friend said. The way your lips moved when you talked– the way your eyes looked when met with hers. 

“You okay?” It was then that she snapped out of her trance. With your eyebrows pulled together in concern, you pursed your lips when you were not given an answer. 

“..yes, I’m fine.” She managed, her eyes averting– deep in thought. You eyed her suspiciously, before getting back to your friends. 

Perhaps she shall choose the roses to grow for her assignment. 

3.

“You two have a strange relationship.” Enid stated, typing away on her laptop– probably writing her blog. 

“What do you mean?” You looked up from your notebook, letting the pen go from your fingers. You rotated your chair towards your friend– stretching your stiff arms as you did so. 

“Like– wednesday and you, sometimes I’m convinced ya’ll are dating– but then you’re not! It feels like..” She paused for a bit, gathering her thoughts. 

“-like a loop. Like a whole rollercoaster. Whenever I try to figure out the relationship between you two, I realize It’s just going to get my thoughts going around like a loop. It never. ends.” She rambled on, “Can’t you just confess and kiss and be girlfriends? Like normal people do? It is not helping me whenever I edit your profile on my blog. Your status? Dating. But also not? What kind of status is that?” 

You chuckled at the sight of her hands wrapping around her head, groaning in frustration. 

“We both know Wednesday Addams don’t do normal.” You said, making your friend giggle. “Be patient— she’s a hard to get kind of girl.” 

The comment made both of you laugh, faint muffled laughters echoing down the Ophelia hall.

4.

“Stop moving.” The girl demanded, slightly tugging on your hair, making you yelp in surprise. 

“I wasn’t moving!” You argued, letting out a huff. 

“You were.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, before looking at her through the mirror. The girl was seated on her bed behind you, her fingers sliding along your hair thoroughly, taking some part of it before placing it above another. 

“You were the one to request for your hair to be braided. Now stop talking because I will not hesitate to cut your tongue off.” She threatened although she knew you never really took her threats seriously. She could feel you scoffing sarcastically— which made her reconsider whether granting your wish was a good idea.

“No you won’t. You love me.” You stated as you rested your hand on your waist confidently. 

“I can't love you. I will leave you in a broken mess and will haunt your dreams forever— I don’t think you would want that.”

“But I want you, Wednesday Addams.” You frowned as you turned to lock your eyes with hers, “Don’t try to look for the end of the abyss, love. It’s just an endless pit of nothing. Come to the surface— don’t worry about the possibilities of falling. We’ll keep each other afloat.”

You watched as the girl bit her lips, seemingly trying to fight the conflicts in her mind. “Hey,” you said, drawing her attention. 

“I’m not gonna force you into a relationship. But just know you won’t leave me in a broken mess and haunt my dreams forever.” You grinned. 

“I could kill all your family.” She argued, “I could-“

You cut her off with your lips against hers. You felt her breath stop in a momentary shock, before easing. Your hands were brought up to cup the other’s cheeks, feeling the way her lips felt pressed onto yours.

Her lips were cold against yours, yet you somehow managed to find warmth in it. A true mystery, indeed.

5.

“What are we?” Asked the girl, her voice slicing through the calm air between the pair.

Wednesday and you were out in the dark, sitting on a bench while waiting for the fireworks to start. Pack of people made it hard to hear her, but you managed to catch her voice nonetheless. 

“Depends on what kind of question you’re asking. Humans, creatures on land— animals with greedy minds.”

Wednesday just stared with annoyance written on her face. You giggled, before sipping the slushy from your cup.

“I don’t know. What do you want us to be?” You watched as she frowned from your question. 

“I am not sure either.”

A beat of silence passed.

“We don’t have to be anything.” You suggested, swinging your legs in the air, looking up at the dark, empty sky.

“Enid said we’re like a loop, a roller coaster. I think it’s cool. Roller coaster kind of relationship? Wow. A whole new kind of concept.” You laughed before meeting her eyes, watching as it softened slightly— a lot of people would have missed it in the dark, but you didn’t. You knew how the air changed around her when it did.

“So tell me,” you smiled mischievously, “are you enjoying the thrill? Cause I certainly am.”

The sky lit up as a firework exploded in the sky. Then another— then another. But those went unnoticed by the two of you, too tranced in the moment, too enchanted by each other’s eyes.

‘Rollercoaster kind of relationship’ you suggested didn’t sound too bad, to be honest to herself. There’s the thrill of going up and down— before looping around once again. 

Yes, it truly didn’t sound too bad.

-

hello I am back!! This was supposed to be a simple fic— I did not expect this to end up this long.

One could say Wednesday blended in well with the gloomy weather; with her pale skin doing little in helping to hide the dark bags under her eyes, courtesy of spending last night worrying — no, worrying implies that she cares and she most certainly doesn't — thinking, about the what ifs that surrounded you and her.

It eventually became as clear as day even if Wednesday couldn't connect a few points. She still hasn't decided how to feel about it or what to say to you when she finds you.

We are a mistake; I don't want you, you shouldn't want me.

Those were the words that have been swimming inside her head all night, so much that she almost made it all Enid's problem too. They were true, weren't they? She would mean it if they were to roll off her tongue.

Yet, as Wednesday walked briskly, feeling the cold biting at her cheeks, she wondered why they brought an uncomfortable weight to her chest.

She found you under what once was a dense tree, your shoulder was leaning against its trunk; there was a boy next to you, tall and lanky and doing a poor job of being subtle with the way he leaned closer to you. Wednesday's face scrunched slightly, as if she tasted something sour; she needed your attention much more urgently than he did, surely you'd ditch him as soon as she makes her presence known right?

You were engrossed in meaningless conversation when Wednesday reached you, so much so that she had to tap your shoulder; causing you to turn toward her mid-sentence, your lips hanging half open.

The raven-haired girl did nothing but raise a brow, and after a beat of looking into her eyes, you turned your back to her again. Such a bold move of yours.

"Um, so Andrew," you clasped your hands together, smiling at him, "I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Sure thing," the boy raised a hand to your shoulder, squeezing softly, "see you then."

His gaze met with Wednesday's as he walked past her, and truthfully, he should be grateful that her eyes don't have the power to kill.

"Good morning, Addams." Your voice urged her dark orbs back to you, who was grinning, watching her intently. "You're quite early today," you told her then.

Wednesday breathed out through her nose, focusing on you with a blink; "you and I need to-" but her words faded, because her mind caught up with the fact that she wasn't feeling anything.

There was nothing. The mark on her wrist that she loathes so much; it didn't burn, didn't sting, didn't even tickle.

She had grown almost used to it, learning to expect it whenever you were close. Not having it, felt like someone ripped away a part of her soul, like there was this grip slowly tightening around the organ that pumps her blood.

It was all kinds of wrong because she shouldn't miss something she doesn't need.

Wednesday felt utterly pathetic, because her body was stuck not feeling things and you were looking at her with slightly raised eyebrows, silently asking her to elaborate.

"-Get to class, we're way too far and I'm not arriving late because of you," she finally snapped, turning away from you briskly.

So it's not you after all, but she was so sure.

And there's absolutely nothing more infuriating than being wrong.

You didn't mention how the class wouldn't start for another forty minutes so neither did Wednesday, she just walked, hearing your steps trailing behind her.

Wednesday was troubled, that much you could tell right away. She had that frown on her eyebrows and lips, the same one you saw once when she'd hit a dead end on her novel.

Oh, how you wanted to be able to take her hand and tell her that it's over, that there's no need to worry anymore.

Wednesday wallowed in her self-pity and rage during most of the class, plucking her pen into her notebook until there was a hole in the pages.

Her foul mood came off of her in waves. You could feel it as you sat beside her, the tension was almost palpable and it was making you anxious.

"What's bothering you so much?" You tried asking, your hands clutching at the fabric of your hoodie when you hugged yourself, partly to chase away the cold, partly for comfort.

For a long minute, the raven-haired girl remained quiet, with her nails tapping her pen rhythmically. She wasn't looking at you and you almost thought she wasn't going to answer at all.

"I'm not-" Wednesday cut herself off with a huff, her lips tight. How can she tell you without actually telling you?

Slowly, her gaze found yours — the teacher up front eagerly talking about elixirs was long forgotten — and the thing about you that set her at ease was still there. Wednesday still couldn't tell what it was exactly, it just… happened.

This time, she didn't fight it.

"I was feeling something for a while," she admitted, quieter than she meant to, "and now, it appears that I'm not anymore."

Dark as Wednesday's eyes might be, you could see them shine; it took everything in you to prevent them from breaking you.

"I don't know how to feel about it," Wednesday finished, her jaw set painfully tight as she looked away from you.

———

Soft. The new soil was soft. A little cold and damp, but still soft.

It shifted between your fingers, little specks of dirt clinging to your skin as you spread it over the flowerbed of the quad.

Most students were out for their club activities; you and Enid managed to get this period free to start working on your little renovation project. It was nice to see the quad so quiet and calm, you were almost able to completely ease your mind.

"I can't wait to see the end result," Enid animatedly told you, carefully picking up one of the seedlings you had gathered from the greenhouse, "they're gonna look so pretty when the fountain is working again."

You chuckled, taking the little white flower she gave you, "I hope so. It'll look better than it does now, that's for sure." You placed down the flower, adjusting it carefully before covering the fragile roots with a thin layer of dirt.

First one done, many more to go. And you were still considering that new tree.

You took a small sunflower next — the one Enid chose — its petals were a little dry, so before placing it down on the soil, you held it between both your hands with care and allowed a little more life to flow into it.

"This is always so cool," Enid said lowly, her eyes glinting as she watched the yellow petals take on a brighter tone.

"I guess it is." You gently placed the flower on its new home with a faint smile.

Enid pushed your shoulder lightly, "stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Dismiss your abilities."

You grinned at the way Enid was frowning at you; "I'm not dismissing," you shrugged, "they just don't have much use other than making flowerbeds."

The werewolf raised an eyebrow at you, successfully ruining her pristine uniform as she sat down on the dirt, "that's not true, I could think of a thousand things to do if I controlled every plant I see."

Following suit, you sat down beside her, your knee brushing hers. "You know, when I was younger, I used to make these little soldiers out of branches and sticks, usually tying them together with vines and stuff like that," you told her, smiling at the memory of a younger you conquering the woods, "I'd make them move around, sometimes fight each other, or just walk with me. Pretend they were alive."

"I'd love to see that one day," Enid responds kindly.

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of having a real friend who likes you for you, it's nice, you'll keep her forever if she lets you. Yet your mind was still elsewhere, drowning in the image of dark eyes staring at you, lost in a way you'd never seen them before, and it was your fault.

"Enid," you called quietly, "have you ever done something that felt right at the time…" you're fidgeting with your hands, restless, "but then after a while… it doesn't anymore?"

She hums, considering your words, "I think so, but in the end, it always works out if you follow your heart."

Well, then I'm screwed. You thought to yourself.

"Why? Did something happen?" Enid asked worriedly, tilting her head to try and catch a glimpse of your eyes.

"No, I-" you pause, biting the inside of your cheek, "I did something, and I'm not sure if it was a mistake or not anymore."

"Did it make you happy? This thing that you did?"

"I don't think happy is the word that I'd use."

Enid was silent for a beat, then she asked; "can you fix it?"

Your eyes became unfocused, your mind drifting as the words just fell, like droplets of blood from a fresh wound; "I don't know how, or if she'd ever want me to."

———

Apparently, you had ruined glass walls and flower perfumes for Wednesday. Because you didn't show up for botany today, and she had a hard time concentrating.

It's unsettling that everything that you've been forcing her to feel, was still there, and it caused her to dive into some light obsessive research last night.

Wednesday had taken Enid's computer and dug up every last bit of information about soulmates she could find online — which honestly, was an overwhelming amount — ranging from how it works, if it can suddenly stop even if you haven't touched, and all the way to conspiracy theories about why it exists.

It was driving her a little mad that she didn't have all cards on the table, she hated the feeling of having missing facts. Her gut was telling her that it was you — as much as she doesn't want it to be — yet reason was telling her that it couldn't be.

Why does she care so much anyway?

The class ended and you were still nowhere to be seen. Wednesday was now walking through Nevermore's hallways, her destination being the library. Maybe the books could answer the questions that the internet was incapable of.

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff at the thought. Why wasn't that her first option?

The ominous library seemed empty, as it was most of the time. Bookshelves standing tall, creating dark corners and allowing only little bits of sunlight to seep through, and the weak table lamps being the only other source of light. She could spend hours here.

Wednesday walked from one shelf to another, her fingertips collecting dust from each book she took. Some of them were old, the pages fragile and already with a brown shade to them; yet none had the answers she wanted.

Maybe the problem was that she didn't know what exactly were her questions in the first place.

The sun was nearly setting when she grew bored of hitting dead ends, a deep golden glow was bathing the dark wooden floors and her shadow was moving with it as she walked.

Though when she rounded a corner, Wednesday abruptly stopped, her boots scratching the wood.

You sat on top of one of the library tables, the only one that was placed in front of a window. Your knees were crossed and you had a book in your hands, the words on it being illuminated by the slowly fading sunlight behind you.

Wednesday couldn't help but be enamored with shades of golden at that moment.

Whatever it was you did to her, was still there too, because she found herself walking closer. You felt her presence, your head snapped up to look at her after she took the second step.

"Wednesday," you said her name in nothing but a breath.

She walked until her fingertips were grazing the edge of your table, her expression unreadable, "where have you been all day?"

You gulped, the grip you had on your book tightening. "I was busy."

"Not what I asked," Wednesday said plainly.

It wasn't easy for you to be around her, your heart needed a break, so you took one. You curled in on yourself a little, "why do you want to know?"

Because for some unfathomable reason, your absence seems to bother me.

That's not what Wednesday said, but maybe she should have.

You sighed, lazily placing your book aside and getting down from the table. "I went to town to pick up a few flower seeds we didn't have in the greenhouse, no big deal."

Wednesday nodded softly, "you could've told me."

Your lips parted but no words came out, you didn't know what you could possibly answer to that. Where was this coming from?

"I'm sorry?" You stumble out, more like a question than anything else, "I didn't know you wanted to know that."

Wednesday blinked a couple of times. You were right, why would she want to know that? What was happening to her?

She shook her head, as if these feelings were nothing but a fog that would easily dissipate. Slowly, she took the rest of the steps necessary to close the distance between you, her eyes focused on the book you'd been holding.

"What are you reading?" She asked.

Your heart rate picked up its pace, you could hear it if you focused hard enough; all because you were trapped between Wednesday and the big window behind you. She's killing you slowly, her soul was too well entangled with yours for you to ever be free of this sweet torture.

You had to think quite hard about the answer because breathing isn't your brain's top priority right now and it's making you lightheaded.

"It's uh- The Diary of Jack the Ripper," you paused, tongue running over your bottom lip and you didn't even notice that Wednesday's gaze followed the motion, "it's interesting, kind of."

The last rays of sun are reflecting on Wednesday's dark eyes. She's close, so close that you can count every freckle, every speck of her lipstick.

You're unaware that she's thinking the same.

She's thinking about the way the golden light is framing the outlines of your jaw, about how your eyes can't seem to pick a spot on her face to focus on, about how your unsteady breathing is fanning over her lips but you still feel too far away.

Wednesday clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes sharp as she put a step of distance between you, "I don't believe it," she breathed.

A deep frown settled on your face, "that I'm reading his book?"

"That it's not you," her words came out tight and low, as if it hurt her to say them. They sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could even think about an answer, Wednesday grabbed your arm, her fingers closing around your wrist in a nearly bruising grip.

Your heartbeat faltered the same way hers did, the feeling of her skin against yours instantly blurred your vision with tears. All the feelings you've been trying to bottle up since you touched her for the first time were starting to spill over.

Wednesday harshly turned your wrist so your palm was up. She raised your sleeve, and time stood still for a second.

There, right on the pulse point of your wrist, laid a faint mark, just a few shades darker than your skin tone. If you looked closely, or in this case, not that closely, you could say its shape resembled a scorpion.

Wednesday didn't let go of you, but she averted her gaze. Her lips parted with ragged breaths, the lower one trembling against her will.

You could feel fresh tears making their way down your cheeks and dripping from your chin, Wednesday only looked back at you when one of them landed on her thumb.

"You knew," she growled quietly. With her free hand, she raised her own sleeve to show a mark identical to yours, "you knew and you didn't tell me." She raised her voice then, her midnight eyes boring into yours and making you flinch.

For a while, you thought you knew pain, but nothing could compare to this. "I thought I'd spare you from the inconvenience." With that, you forcefully pulled your arm away from her hold as if she burned you.

For a moment, the action dulled Wednesday's anger for being kept in the dark about something this… important? And she finally noticed your tear-stained cheeks.

Too late, because she couldn't get a word in before you were pushing past her, your shoulder bumping into hers as you ran away from the library, away from her.

Wednesday was frozen to the floorboards, her eyes fixed on the spot you'd just been. She's feeling an ocean of emotions; they're nauseating, raising bile to her throat, so many things at once but what she expected — wanted — to feel, wasn't there, she didn't hate you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Curious for part 5?

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

While students reunited with their parents you and Wednesday were shamelessly making out with each other behind a random wall.

It’s weird to think that at first Wednesday couldn’t even hold your hand and now she’s pushing you up against the wall, kissing you fiercly. Oh, how time can change people... for the better in this case.

“Why isn’t she here yet?” Family Addams split up and went to go search for their dear family member. Pugsley being team 1 and Moricia in team 2 together with Gomez. They’d never split up.

“You’re asking to many questions.” She paused to look at your flushed face for a bit before placing her lips on yours again.

“Wednesday?” 

You and Wednesday basically teleported away from each other with how fast you were. You tried to wipe away the lipstick that you know was smeared all over your mouth thanks to Wednesday’s dark lipstick.

“You’re going to keep your mouth shut about this.” Wednesday could be so threatening without trying. You felt bad for who you assumed to be Pugsley. Wednesday had told you a little bit about her family after you had practically begged her to.

Pugsley kept quiet and out of nowhere he began running in the opposite direction of Wednesday. “Chase him.” You looked at her questioningly. “Do you want to get tortured with him?” Your eyes widened and you sprinted after Pugsley. 

He hadn’t gotten that for so you easily caught up to him but it was already too late... A tall lady and a short man stood there right in front of you. The dots inside your mind instantly connected. Their dark clothes, the woman who looks similar to Wednesday.

“S-she- she and Wednesday were making out.” Pugsley was beyond out of breath. It looked like he could pass out anytime now. You chuckled awkwardly, “Nice to meet you?” You hesitantly held out your hand but you dropped it when Wednesday arrived and glared at Pugsley.

“Hello mother, hello father. This is my partner.” Gomez and Morticia’s eyes were already wide at what Pugsley told them but now it looked like they were gonna pop out of their sockets.

“Don’t be so surprised, I’m your child after all.” It made sense, Gomez and Moritcia were next level with their affection but it was still weird for them to find out their anti-social, anti-loving, anti-everything daugher had a lover. And the smeared lipstick on your mouth didn’t make it easier.

“Let’s get to know each other better, dear.” Moricia tried to play it off cool but she couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on her face when she watched Wednesday wipe your face for you. 

Getting to know her family would be fun. What was a little less fun for you though was watching Pugsley get waterboarded for telling on her like that. You didn’t dare intervene cause she promised to include you in Pugsley’s punishment.

If anyone asked you, parents week was interesting to say the least.

Wednesday squinted at the sight of you crossed legged on the ground flipping through a magazine. "What are you doing here?"

"Enid says we should do friendship exercises." Wednesday let's out a low scoff. It all started when Enid suggested Wednesday get more friends, Enid thought who better than Y/N Y/L/N there was just as much rumors surrounding you as there was Wednesday.

She could admit that she was curious about you but she also didn't like to be around you. Everytime she was around you she got this feeling that she couldn't explain and she hated it.

"Friendship excercises?"

You hummed in response not bothering to look up at her as you leaned back on one of your hands, Wednesday's eyes focused on your colored nails tapping the floor.

"Stop it, I hate that." Wednesday didn't care about the sound, she just liked the look on your face when she ignored you. You looked up at her with that dead look in your eyes that she was always somewhat fascinated with.

"Can you just sit down and do this? Enid called me 10 times last night and I would rather I get a good night's sleep tonight."

Wednesday never understood it, how the two of you were so different yet so...similar.

Wednesday reluctant sat on the ground in front of you, she too was tired of Enid's persistence. She didn't understand why Enid was so desperate so you and her to be friends.

"What do we have to do?" She asked as you placed the magazine on the floor leaning forward "Enid said to ask each other the get to know each other questions on page 27." Wednesday flipped the book around gazing at the questions.

They were stupid.

"Ask first." You told her picking at the bracelet that was on your wrist and Wednesday huffed "What's your favorite color?"

"Red." You responded quickly "It reminds me of blood" Wednesday looked at you, her gaze softening in a way that you'd have to look close to even notice.

"Stop looking at me, you're freaking me out." You laughed softly, the playful tone in your voice telling her you were just joking with her but still Wednesday's eyes dropped down to the book.

"I would ask what's your favorite color but I can tell." You gestured to her clothes. She turned the book back towards you and you looked down at the book.

Wednesday found her eyes staring at your face again and for a moment she swore she heard her shallow black heart beating in her ears. "What are your hobbies?"

"Murder" She said quickly "Which I will commit if we continue asking each other these stupid questions" She mumbled and you snorted lightly shaking your head at her.

"I personally don't really do anything that you'd consider a hobby" you shrugged "Oh my god but when I was younger I used to love archery." You smiled as you recovered an old childhood memory.

"What happened?" She asked when your smile turned into a grimace.

"I shot my brother in the arm, he had to quit football and to punish me my mother made me quit archery but I had this bow, oh it was so nice, it was pink with black accents and my father had carved my initials into it! It was my favorite this in the world."

Pink with black accents, funnily enough that's how Wednesday would describe your aura. "Sorry" you apologized once you noticed that you had probably annoyed her with all your talking.

"I never pegged you for the archery type." She said quickly almost as if to tell you that you didn't have to apologize, she was interested in the conversation.

"I come with many mysteries Wednesday" You joked shifting in your seat before turning the book back to her "Your turn."

Wednesday eyes shift back down to the book, her eyes running over the words.

"Say something nice about me." She reads, her eyes quickly shot back up to you but you were already looking at her.

"I think you're really pretty." You muttered biting your lip lightly, a nervous habit that Wednesday had noticed "You think I'm pretty?" Wednesday sounded more confused than flattered.

You nodded "Yeah I don't know something about that off putting personality really does it for me." Wednesday's head tilted slowly taking in your words, a sudden awkward silence filling the area and you opened your mouth to take it back when she spoke up again.

"What do you mean does it for you?" She asked, her eyes burning into yours and you let out a soft laugh "I mean I like it."

"You like it?"

You nodded again, she didn't have enough time to come up with a response, ugh she felt that feeling in her stomach. It made her want to gag and suddenly she felt something in her cheeks.

A warmth is how she could describe it, she reached her hand up to her face, her eyebrows furrowed as she jumped up quickly rushing over to the mirror on Enid's side of the room.

You rushed to your feet as well asking her repeatedly what was wrong. Wednesday stared at herself in the mirror and there it was, color in her cheeks. She gasped "There's something wrong with me." She states turning towards you.

"What?"

"There's something on my face." You grabbed her face ignoring the way she flinched slightly at your touch, your eyes ran over her face "I'm confused." You told her not knowing what she was saying.

"There's something red on my cheeks." You looked and noticed the way her cheeks were flushed and you let out a laugh dropping your hands from her face. "What do you think this is? Some kind of sick joke?"

You shook her head "No, no uh....I think you're blushing Wednesday." Wednesday blinked "Blushing?"

"Yeah, it usually happens when you're flustered or embarrassed." Wednesday stared forward for a moment contemplating her next movement.

"Get out." She said suddenly and you blinked a few times before laughing softly shaking your head "Okay, goodnight Wednesday." You smiled waving goodbye before you exited the room.

Wednesday slowly made her way to her side of the room sitting down on her bed. She stared down at the magazine for a moment.

"Hey!" Enid smiled opening the door "I just saw Y/N, how was bonding time?" Enid did a little shimmy but stopped when she noticed the look on Wednesday's face "You look more drained, are you okay?"

"I blushed." Wednesday mumbled and Enid looked at her in confusion "What are you talking about?"

"She made me blush." Wednesday looked at Enid and Enid gasped in shock before it turned into a smile "No way! I knew it! I knew it!" Enid jumped up and down.

Wednesday stared at her "I knew you liked her and I knew once I got you guys alone that something would happen but Wednesday Addams blushing? THAT IS SO NEXT LEVEL!" Enid squealed.

"You did this?" Wednesday asked kind of surprised that Enid had put so much thought into it. "Yeah I mean when I saw you almost trip when she said she liked your sweater, I knew something was up. Your brain goes all scrambled when your around her sometimes I'm not even sure if you're speaking English."

Wednesday took in her words, she did feel like her brain was all over the place when you around but that certainly didn't mean she liked you, it just meant you were too distracting.

"I don't like her, I am fascinated by her but I do not like her." Wednesday shook her head and Enid laughed "That's literally is the same thing!"

"It's not."

"It so is." Enid childishly responded.

"I'm going to sleep." Wednesday said suddenly "Right now?" Enid asked.

"Yes, leave me alone" Wednesday huffed pushing Enid away from her bed.

The fact that Enid would even say she liked you baffled her. She didn't like you.

Right?...

What the hell was wrong with her ?

feel free to request and comment & reblog!!

READ PART TWO HERE

She remembers the coldness of the rain against her skin as she walked away from Weathervane — away from you — it was pleasant and comforting; a safe blanket as the droplets trickled down her forehead all the way to her chin and hid the few stray tears that escaped her.

Her steps had been fast in desperation to get away. Her throat closed so tightly that she thought having someone choking her would be more bearable. Her heart beating so painfully, that maybe a bullet would've been more merciful.

She walked, and walked, and walked; her feet carrying her to school without realizing it. She was soaked when she stepped into her dorm, making puddles of water with each step she took. She remembers Enid talking, but the words were blurred.

Wednesday had made a beeline to the shower, turning it on with a temperature colder than the rain she had just escaped from.

Some say the second time around is more bearable. This certainly wasn't the case for her.

It was the day Wednesday put an end to whatever was happening between you and her. The day where she hated the most that she was forced to feel her own emotions.

The week that followed wasn't an improvement either.

Your words kept replaying in Wednesday's mind like a broken record; this is not a date, and please can we talk?

What would you have said, had she cared to listen?

Wednesday sat in front of her typewriter every day, staring at the blank paper and being unable to fill it. She'd hit a stump, because maybe she'd never know what you would have said.

You passed by each other in Nevermore's hallways as if you were just two strangers in the street, never to cross paths again. When you stood on one side of the bee keeper's shed, Wednesday stayed in the far opposite one, and if she so much as tried coming closer, you'd drop whatever it was you were doing and walk away. Even if Enid asked, you didn't come to her dorm anymore, prompting the werewolf to ask questions even though she could guess the answer.

Wednesday didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much. She caught herself tracing the lines of her own palm in a motion that was yours to make, brushing the corner of her lips in the place that was yours to kiss. And as much as she hated this feeling with all her might, hated you for forcing it into her, she couldn't chase it away.

It was so sadistically ironic that Wednesday kept you at arm's length in order to avoid attachment and loss, and that's exactly what she got. Maybe this is what Goody was trying to warn her about, that no matter the road she takes, the end will always be the same.

—

Today was a friday, ten days and four hours since the last time Wednesday spoke with you, since she replicated a damn drama cliche with her pitiful walk in the rain. Not that she was keeping count.

She sat at one of the tables on the quad, Enid at her side talking about something she wasn't listening to. The day was gray, morbidly so as the clouds loomed above, dark and cold in a way that Wednesday would've loved if it wasn't for you.

You who sat at the other end of the quad, putting as many tables and obnoxiously loud students between you and Wednesday as you could. You who looked so undeniably beautiful under the shadows. You who was smiling, happy as you laughed with your friends and spared no glances into the crowd to look for anyone.

Were you happier without her?

Wednesday sucked in a sharp breath at the mere thought of it, her lower lip quivering slightly as she exhaled, before she averted her eyes from you with a blink.

She turned to Enid only to find the girl's bright eyes already on her, a knowing smirk on her pink lips; "I won't even ask if you were listening."

"I got bored after the word shopping," Wednesday stated, raising an eyebrow that got Enid rolling her eyes.

"And because you were stalking our resident pretty girl," Enid teased, bumping Wednesday's shoulder with hers.

It was a truth that Wednesday countered with a lie; "I only stalk people who are hiding something or who have something I want, she doesn't fit on any of those."

Enid slumped on her seat, resting her head on her hands as she looked at Wednesday, "you can't keep doing this, Wednesday."

"Doing what?"

"Pretending like you don't care," Enid says then, with the frustration of someone who's just seen their favorite couple from a tv show hit another almost.

"Why would you assume the opposite?" Wednesday asks irritatedly.

Enid gives her best friend a look that could only be read as seriously? before she sits up straighter; "you two went from hanging out in the dorm for hours and sneaking out when you think no one's watching, to staying on different sides of the school and avoiding each other like the plague. Even you have to feel that change."

But I don't want to; Wednesday thinks to herself. Her only response is to look away.

With a sigh, Enid softens; "why won't you just tell her the truth?" She asks gently. The werewolf doesn't know the full story, and when her roommate ignores her questions and neither you nor Yoko will talk, gossip can only do so much; but even a blind person can see that whatever happened, hurt both of you.

Wednesday frowns; "what truth?"

"That you have feelings for her, silly. Like, genuinely more than friends feelings." There's an excited smile on Enid's lips as she says it, eyes glinting with the prospect of a love story.

"That's a horrible idea," Wednesday's face does something complicated, as if she's sorting on how to feel about this — or tasted something sour. "Besides, you know what happened the last time I did something remotely close to that."

And just like that, the muddy waters start to clear, the fog starts to dissipate and Enid understands what is happening — if just a little better.

The blonde reaches out a hand to Wednesday's forearm, squeezing softly; "Wednesday, this is Y/N we're talking about, she's not gonna turn into a murderous monster and break your heart."

Wednesday visibly gulps, her jaw painfully clenched as she felt uncharacteristically small under Enid's gaze.

"Plus I thought you'd be into the whole potential heartbreak thing." Enid teases, fighting back a grin, to which Wednesday can only mumble back;

"Not nearly as fun as I thought it'd be."

Switching her gaze between you and the raven-haired girl by her side, Enid hums; "want my advice?"

"No."

"I'd take my chances if I were you, because I know she genuinely cares about you. A lot."

There was something about the way Wednesday dropped her shoulders slightly, about the way she stole another glance at you as if you had just bought a one-way ticket to another country. It was that bittersweet feeling of a good thing that came to its end way too early.

Enid felt like crying.

"I'm afraid I'm too late, Enid."

—

It wasn't until dinner time — and after much, much insistence from Enid — that Wednesday decided to try and mend her mistake.

The cafeteria was already filled with students when she arrived, in true Nevermore fashion, the place was big and ancient; a meticulously decorated stone-walled room with tables and a kitchen area. Werewolves, Enid's brothers probably, were making a scene near the kitchen; there were gorgons and sirens playing a card game on one of the tables; and you sat with the vampires, with Yoko by your side no less.

Wednesday felt curious eyes on her, undoubtedly her peers wondering why she'd been staring unmoving for so long. A deep breath passed through her lips as she begrudgingly swallowed her pride and took the first step, her boots thudding against the stone floor.

With each of her steps, she repeated the words in her head; can we talk? Do you still wish to talk? Or would it be better, I need to talk with you?

Wednesday decides that fighting a murderous monster would be infinitely easier.

Your eyes locked in on her figure before she even reached you, and Wednesday smiled, a tiny tilt of lips that only you would notice; but you looked away from her before it happened.

Did people care about each other only because they enjoyed the pain that comes with it?

Something akin to panic fluttered inside Wednesday's stomach when you got up from your seat, reaching for your backpack and muttering a few goodbyes to your friends as you walked between the tables. The Addams girl quickened her steps, almost bumping into Bianca and not bothering to turn around when the siren called her out on it.

Wednesday just about managed to stop in front of you before you left for the doors.

Is this what you felt on that day?

Your eyes closed with a sigh, your hands were buried deep in your pockets and there was a rigidness to your shoulders. You were nervous, and even if it wasn't the right time, Wednesday was proud of herself for knowing it.

But having you this close again after so long — not really, ten days aren't that long, yet Wednesday hates that it felt like ages — has its downsides.

Wednesday couldn't speak. The only thing she needed to do, and her words are stuck. Feelings are a pain in the ass to deal with.

Yoko stood by your side, arms crossed over her chest; "do you have anything to say or what?"

She's protective, Wednesday doesn't blame her for it anymore.

Yes, she should say. There's a glint of hope in your eyes when you look at her; Wednesday finds herself wanting to reach out, but she's not sure she's allowed to anymore. She wonders if you missed her as much as she misses you.

"No," is what she says, and it's quite painful.

—

It's well into the night when Wednesday makes her way back to her dorm, the stairs creaking under her boots, a half-moon shining high on the sky being the only source of light.

her insides are twisting with a mix of rage, frustration, self-pity, and something else that's just heavy.

She pushed open the door to her dorm only to find it empty. Enid's bed is unmade and Wednesday's typewriter still has a blank page on it.

Enid had texted Wednesday earlier, something about going out with Ajax and not coming back too soon. The solitude was well appreciated, it gave the Addams girl some much-needed peace to work on her novel. The only problem is that her mind was nowhere near peaceful.

The first thing that caught Wednesday's attention after she walked in was the potted cactus by her window, it looked a little sad, its soil all dry and the color not as green as it should be. Wednesday didn't think twice as she walked to her bathroom, filling a cup with water and gently emptying it into the plant's pot. At least of that part of you, she'd take good care of.

She took off her hoodie next, throwing it on top of her bed. It was pathetic that the simple action got her thinking of you too, of when you'd lounge on there talking nonsense with Thing while she wrote.

How could one person hold so much power over another was beyond Wednesday, especially because she didn't allow it; it just happened. It happened that she kissed you out of impulse, just because she couldn't die without knowing what your lips felt like; or that she kept calling on you more and more after that, feeling a hole in her chest whenever you were away for too long.

It just happened that she fell for you, and maybe it was inevitable, maybe you'd be her doom. But it was her choice to push you away, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't the one thing she regretted the most.

There was a knock on Wednesday's door that snapped her mind back to reality. She turned around, frowning as she stared at the dark wooden thing, wondering who would seek her out this late in the night.

Honestly? Wednesday should've seen it coming as soon as Enid suggested she should talk with you. She should've known.

She swung open the door only to reveal you on the other side, in plaid pajama pants and a white shirt, hugging yourself because of the coldness of the empty hallways.

Your posture went rigid as soon as your eyes found Wednesday's, it got her wondering if you forgot this was her dorm, if you knocked on the wrong door by accident.

"Hello," Wednesday said as she looked at you, features impassive, her hand tightening around the door handle until her knuckles turned white.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip before you spoke; "Enid texted me, said you needed help with something. That it was an emergency," you gulped, diving into over-explanation, "and that she wasn't here, so she asked if I could…" You trailed off, your fingers nervously tapping your arm.

Oh. Maybe her roommate wasn't too far off when she said you cared. It was rare the times where anyone would be able to easily read Wednesday's emotions. This was one of them and it wasn't a surprise that you were the cause.

There was a glint to Wednesday's eyes that belonged to you, her features softened in a blink — no more creases to her eyebrows and lips parting in vain when her words got tangled on her tongue — it was the calmness after a raging storm.

Wednesday used to mock the people who spoke about soulmates, about the invisible red string that few ones were lucky enough to find the other end of. But could there ever be any other explanation for the way you set her at ease?

She nodded once, stepping aside so you could walk in.

You were hesitant in the way you did so, as if you didn't belong, and Wednesday hated it — because you did belong, right here by her side. You stood in the middle of her dorm, right between the division of colors to blankness on the round window.

The air felt electric around you. Wednesday chanced a step closer, her gaze casting over every twitch of your expressions; "I do," she started, and a beat passed as she refused to take the last chance to back down and let you go, "I do have something to say."

You scoffed, "that doesn't sound like an emergency," but there was no bite to your tone, almost as if you wanted her to object.

"It is," Wednesday told you, allowing the affection she held for you to drip from every syllable. One more chance, that's all she needed, and maybe she’d tell you just what it is that you do to her.

"Okay."

You had a kindness to you that she was underserving of, Wednesday thought. But maybe she could work her way to it. She raised her chin, striving to keep her heartbeat in check; "I wasn't completely fair last time we spoke, I'll measure my words better if you're willing to talk to me again."

Wednesday said the words as if they were the particularities of a contract, and not an apology to someone who held her cold heart in their hands. She realized it was the wrong thing to say as soon as your features fell.

You took on the glow of the moon effortlessly as it came through the window, it framed the lines of your jaw and cheekbone, all delicate and pretty. You ducked your head, allowing your hair to partially cover your eyes as you nodded a few times. "Great," you mumbled, before taking a few quick steps with intent to go around Wednesday and back to the lonely hallways.

She didn't let you, her cold hand closed around your own as you made to walk past her, keeping you in place in a gesture that surprised both of you.

Having your skin against hers again made Wednesday feel like coming home after a long journey. It's strange that that's what you became to her.

The hold she had on you wasn't strong, you could easily pull your hand away and leave. But you didn't.

"It was unfair of me," Wednesday started, each word tighter than the next as she forced them out. More than anything, Wednesday despised talking about her feelings, but words are all she has now, "the mistake was mine and I will accept the consequences for it. But you should have all cards on the table when making your judgment."

If there was a heaven, you already had your place on it — you turned back around to face Wednesday properly, and without letting go of her hand, you adjusted your hold so that your fingers could intertwine; your thumb tracing random patterns on her skin in a motion that you knew calmed her down. Because you knew how hard this was for her — Wednesday was sure you were an angel in your past life.

The dorm room had never felt this detached from the outside world, as it does now, holding this one moment for you and Wednesday alone.

For a split second, where she allowed herself the luxury of only existing in your presence, Wednesday wondered if this is what real love felt like. She took in a deep breath, feeling your perfume as she did so before focusing her gaze on your joined hands; they fit well together.

"I used to ask myself why I was the one who kissed you first that day." Wednesday hesitated, nagging on the inside of her cheek with her teeth, "and I realized that it's because you make me feel something I never- hardly ever feel when around other people."

Her eyes glanced up at you in a lazy motion, only to find that your eyes never left her once. There was a soft smile on your lips, overflowing adoration. Wednesday was sometimes envious of the way you wore your heart on your sleeve so effortlessly.

"It's an annoying feeling really," the raven-haired girl admitted, raising an eyebrow at you, "I wanted to rip it away from me the first time it happened." Her lips hovered open as she heard her own heartbeat, thunderous as ever, "but the one that came in your absence was much worse."

The passage of time felt equally too slow and too fast. You weren't doing anything. Did she do something wrong?

Wednesday tensed when, carefully, you raised a hand to her face. You were tender in the way that you pushed the black strands of hair behind Wednesday's ear, your fingertips lingering and tracing her cheek before you dropped your hand. As if you'd missed touching her too.

And oh you did, if Wednesday knew just how much, she'd probably be all over you already. "I feel it too," you whispered, a secret confession only for her to hear.

"I know we never talked about what we were, and I'm not asking you to," you spoke calmly, "but you really hurt me, Wednesday, at the very least I thought we were friends."

What if I'd like us to be more? What would you say, is that something you'd ever want too?

Before Wednesday could ask any of the questions she was dying to know the answer to, you asked yours first;

"Did you mean that? What you said?"

And the Addams girl figured that this was a more pressing matter anyway.

Wednesday shook her head with urgency, her hand squeezing yours to keep you in place, "it could never be true." She took a step closer, her boots bumping your sneakers, "hurting you, it's the last thing I'd ever want to do, and I apologize that it happened."

The raw honesty of Wednesday's tone was all you needed to hear to let go of her hand in order to cup her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss that spoke more than any of you ever could.

Wednesday grasped onto your waist almost desperately, her hands bunching up your shirt as she glued your body to hers in a nearly bruising grip, dying to feel the most of you that she could manage. She pressed herself into you, her nose brushing your cheek as her soft lips molded with yours; telling you she'd never miss anyone as much as she misses you, that she'd never feel so strongly for someone as she does for you; that she'd have you until death's cold embrace took her.

Your hands traveled from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers mingling with the wisps of hair there. You pressed your lips to each corner of her mouth, bumping your noses as you did so, leaving testimonies of your affection each time your upper lip grazed hers; letting her know that she'd ruined anyone else to you, that you'd never feel for someone else, what you feel for her.

Wednesday pulled back just enough to be able to breathe, her forehead brushing yours as you felt more than heard the shape of her words; "let me make it up to you… Please."

You chuckled, tracing the outline of her lower lip with your thumb. It was reddish and just a little swollen, warm to the touch and it was your fault.

It got you smiling, because you could also feel her own smile under your digit; "gladly."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.

The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.

It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.

You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.

You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."

Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"

"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."

There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.

You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."

A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.

You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.

Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.

You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.

"What question?" You ask.

Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.

Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"

"This is childish."

"Indeed."

"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.

Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."

There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.

You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.

You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.

Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.

"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."

Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.

The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.

"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."

Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.

You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.

Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"

You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"

For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."

Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"

Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.

It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.

When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.

The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

———

It was a late night at Nevermore Academy, most were making their way to the rooms to sleep. In Ophellia Hall, two young students could be found snuggled up under pale black and gray covers as the moon shone through the window.

You sighed as you pressed your face into Wednesday’s stomach, perfectly content with her running her fingers through your hair. Moments like these were rare as she didn’t particularly like physical touch, but she said you have an exception.

“Y/N” She called softly, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

You hummed in response, squeezing her waist slightly as a way to say that you were awake and listening.

“You really are clingy.” She said, scratching your scalp lightly. 

“Mmm…only for you…” You replied, rubbing your cheek against her.

“Clearly.” 

A chuckle passed your lips as you readjusted yourself against her so your head rested on her chest instead of her stomach. The steady beat of her heart combined with her cool feeling skin caused you to start to drift off into a slumber. You felt the gentle rub of Wednesday’s thumb on the side of your face as she attempted to sooth you. 

“Wends…’m gon’ fall asleep…” You slurred out..

Wednesday stayed silent, her focus seeming to be on the novel she was reading. The swish of the pages being turned was enough for you to fall asleep, and that you did. What you didn't know is that she was just waiting for you to pass out. 

“You are disgustingly adorable.” Wednesday whispered.

She stared for a moment before leaning down to kiss your forehead, her lips lingering on your skin. Wednesday had never known love before she met you, and now she couldn’t get enough of it. She always thought her parents were full of it when they would act the way they do, but she finally understood when you had become her partner.

Rain Sucked

Really, It soaked into Jenna’s clothes, making the thick material cling to her skin. Which did nothing to stop the chill from leaking into her bones. Her hair, ever the mess, was plastered against her forehead, getting in her brown eyes, letting rainwater drip down her face, and all together making life a lot more difficult than it needed to be. She pushed her bangs out of the way for the umpteenth time and sighed. 

At least filming was over with, finally. 

It was a boring day, with camera work being ever so existent. Jenna knew she should be grateful for the slow day; filming meant the movie would be done and out faster, but being out in weather like this was absolutely dreadful. 

She thought briefly about stopping back at her trailer to change, she really did. The thought of warm, dry clothes was so utterly enticing, but then Jenna realized she’d have to trudge back through the torrential downpour, just to get home, thus retroactively negating getting dry in the first place. So here she was, still decked out in her filming outfit, soaked through to the bone and shivering, dragging her feet back to her apartment.

She sighed, just another block to go. 

There weren’t many people out. Only a handful dared to brave the storm, huddled under their umbrellas and walking at a brisk pace, barely sparing Jenna a passing glance. Which was probably a good thing. She wasn’t sure if anyone really wanted to see the current top rising actress looking akin to a drowned rat. 

She dashed across the street, boots sloshing through yet another puddle. Crap. 

Jenna shivered, wincing as she felt more chilled rainwater slosh into already waterlogged her shoes. There was no escaping the many puddles that littered the streets and alleyways, and Jenna had honestly given up hours ago. That didn’t mean she liked getting water in her boots, however. It was cold, and wet, and she was starting to lose sensation in her toes. 

She just bent her head and powered onward, thoughts of a warm shower, dry clothes, and a much needed nap filling her mind. Just a little farther, and she could get out of these wet clothes.

And get warm.

And get out of this awful rain. 

When her complex finally appears around the corner Jenna felt like she could cry with relief. She didn’t, of course; crying would take too much energy. Energy she did not have, thanks to the dreary and dreadful day. She fumbled for her wallet, hidden in one of the many pouches on her coat, and pulled out her keycard.

Or, tried to.

Her cumbersome gloves paired with her numb fingers made things rather difficult. Which left Jenna standing outside her apartment building, fighting with her wallet for a good five minutes before she finally managed to free her keycard and swipe herself inside.

Stupid security measures, but she understands it; safety was vital, especially given how many celebrities lived in this complex. But dammit, she just wanted a warm shower. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently it was- Jenna got stopped by the doorman, who insisted upon asking her about her day, which while quite polite, left her shivering miserably and dripping all over the white tile floors. 

Then, she missed the elevator and had to wait for it to travel six floors up- and yes, she counted- before coming back down. And of course, just as she was getting on, another five people dashed up, hollering for her to hold the elevator. Jenna did, of course; she was raised to be polite, after all. But she was gritting her teeth the whole time, shivering and trying to not look as pathetic as she felt. 

Of course, because life apparently hated her at this moment, each person needed a different floor. Because of course they did. So she had to wait as the elevator stopped five different times, on five different floors, before she could get to hers. Why she ever agreed to stay with her girlfriend in a ten story building downtown, Jenna didn’t know. She was certainly regretting such decisions, now. 

The elevator finally pinged for her floor, and Jenna stumbled out, heaving a sigh. 

Ugh, only a few more steps.

She was dragging her feet by the time she reached the appropriate apartment door. Unable to even lift her boots, the staccato squelches came accompanied by the squeaks of wet sneakers on linoleum. She fumbled with her keys, her numb fingers made things difficult, and curses crowded her tongue.

Fuck it.

She resorted to yanking her gloves off with her teeth and letting them flop onto the doormat. It helped; Jenna was able to get the right key into the doorknob at last. 

One twist and the door sprung open. She fumbled her way inside, kicking at her gloves to get them across the doorway. She’d pick them up, but she was so tired. She was afraid that if she bent over now, she’d fall over and wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

The floor would be too comfortable, and her limbs too leaden. Once Inside, Jenna was met with warmth and the savory smells of dinner. She somehow managed to shoulder the door closed behind her, and began the ever difficult process of untying and kicking off her boots. The strings were soggy and waterlogged, making her grimace.

Her fingers, now tingly, still felt cumbersome as she tugged at the knotted string. Jenna leaned heavily against the wall for balance as she muscled her shoes off, a sigh breezing past her lips as she freed her feet from their cumbersome and damp confines.

She picked up the boots and placed them on the mat with the rest of the neatly organized shoes. The socks came off next; Jenna ripped them off, grimacing at the way they dripped. 

Distantly, Jenna registered the sounds of rustling and movement from within the apartment, but her mind was singularly focused. She trudged past the living space and kitchen, staggering her way to the bedroom. There was a pause, and the clank of dishes echoed through the space. 

“Jenna?” A voice called. 

She managed a hand wave as she crossed the threshold, hands already fumbling to remove her rain drenched outfit.

A shiver wracked her body as she peeled away the soggy fabric. She stripped down to her underwear and bra, dumping the wet costume in the hamper with a sigh. Jenna ran a hand through her damp hair. Should she shower now, or…? 

Warm hands caressed her shoulders, skidding down to her waist. Jenna hummed and leaned into your touch, the warmth and care chased the chill away, and she melted as you pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. 

“Hey,” You murmured. 

She smiled. 

“Hey.” 

“How was filming?” You asked, scratching Jenna’s scalp with her nails.

She shrugged. “Boring, mostly. The weather was awful, though.”

You hummed, the vibrations tickling her skin from where you pressed against her .

“I hate walking in the rain,” You murmured. “I always end up drenched.”

That was the understatement of the century, and Jenna couldn’t help the snort. She felt Your smile curve into the back of her neck, and she sighed.

“Go take a hot shower,” You said. “I’ll finish dinner, and then we can cuddle. Okay?” 

Jenna twisted in your grasp so that she was facing you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” She said, voice soft.

It was moments like these, quiet, behind closed doors, that she liked the most. After it was all said and done, you both took care of each other.