So…I wrote what happened before Enid went full panic mode on Yoko. 😏 Enjoy!
Enid was pacing lazily around their shared dorm room as she reviewed the notes for her exam with the energy of someone who had zero plans for the afternoon.
She didn’t even look up when the bathroom door opened. “What time is it?” Wednesday’s voice filled the room, low, precise, and utterly devoid of inflection.
Enid glanced at the clock on her desk, still half-distracted. “Uh…4:10? Why, you got somewhere to…”
“I have twenty minutes.” Wednesday replied without anymore detail as she started moving.
Enid’s blinked curiously. “Twenty minutes for what?” She thought. “Wait is she…oh my god she’s coming over here! Why is she looking at me like that? Her eyes are doing that thing! Shit, shit, shit!”
Wednesday crossed the room in an instant. Her expression was the same unreadable mask it always was, but something flickered behind it, something Enid couldn’t name.
“This is should not be this complicated...”, Wednesday thought, she had already run the calculation in the back of her mind as she left the bathroom. This would just be like any one of her usual experiments, yet feelings are messier than any regular experiment...
“Distractions. This particular distraction has been occupying 87% of my cognitive capacity for weeks. Twenty minutes is a controlled variable. Test the hypothesis, observe the reaction and end it cleanly.” She refocused, reaching out, fingers wrapping around Enid’s wrist with surprising warmth, as she walked her backwards until Enid’s knees buckled against the mattress.
The rest of the question dissolved as Wednesday gave a firm, deliberate push. Enid toppled onto the colorful comforter with a soft oof, heart jackhammering so hard she was sure Wednesday could hear it.
“Oh my god, oh my god she’s on my bed! She’s climbing on me! Is this happening? Is this actually…” Enid lost her train of jumbled thoughts when Wednesday swung a leg over her hips and settling astride her in one smooth motion, knees bracketing her waist like a vice. She caught both of Enid’s wrists and pinned them above her head against the pillows, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. The weight of her was perfect…insistent yet grounding and it made Enid’s breath hitch audibly.
Wednesday’s dark eyes bored into hers for a moment, as if calculating her next move... “There is no room for hesitation now. It has been decided. No more preamble. I can tell she has been waiting for this as long as I have…” And with that in mind, she closed the distance between them.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a devastatingly focused deep and hungry claim. Wednesday’s mouth pressed against Enid’s with fierce intent, tongue sliding past parted lips without asking permission.
The taste of black coffee and something faintly metallic, flooded Enid’s senses. Enid’s thoughts scattered like the butterflies in her stomach. “Holy crap! It’s happening! God, her lips are so soft…and she’s so intense. She’s kissing me like she’s trying to solve me and I can’t breathe but I don’t want to…”
A helpless little whimper slipped out of Enid’s throat. Wednesday responded by shifting her hips forward, thighs tightening around Enid’s waist, pressing their bodies closer. One hand stayed locked around Enid’s wrists, keeping her exactly where she wanted her; the other slid down to cup the back of Enid’s neck, thumb stroking along her jaw in a way that felt almost tender. The contrast made Enid’s head spin.
Wednesday deepened the kiss, going slower and more exploratory. She tilted her head, nipping at Enid’s lower lip before soothing it with her tongue, then diving back in with renewed devotion…
Every few seconds she’d pull back just enough to let Enid gasp for air, only to chase the sound with another searing kiss. The room filled with the soft, wet sounds of mouths moving together and the faint creak of the bedframe whenever Wednesday rocked against her…
Enid’s body felt like molted lava…Heat pooled low in her stomach, spreading outward in dizzying waves. Her wrists ached deliciously under Wednesday’s grip; her lips were swollen and tingling. She could feel the rapid thud of Wednesday’s pulse where their chests pressed together, the only crack in her roommate’s iron composure.
“Twenty minutes,” Wednesday reminded herself somewhere in the haze of this sensation. “No more, no less. Control the experiment.” But her own thoughts were fraying at the edges…
“She tastes like sunlight and sugar and everything I’m not supposed to want. The way she whimpers…focus! Hypothesis confirmed, she wants this too…”She kissed Enid harder, pouring every unsaid thing into it: the weeks of stolen glances, the irritation that had slowly twisted into something far more dangerous, the quiet ache she’d never admit aloud.
Time stretched and blurred. Enid lost track of everything except the heat of Wednesday’s mouth, the press of her body, the way she subtlety moved on top of her searching for friction, the way her braids tickled Enid’s cheeks… She was drowning in all that Wednesday was giving, about to come completely undone…yet exactly twenty minutes later, Wednesday pulled back.
She sat up slowly, now straddling Enid’s hips, and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb in a single precise motion. Her breathing was slightly elevated, her expression once again a perfect mask of cool indifference, save for the faintest flush high on her pale cheeks.
Enid lay there, chest heaving, lips kiss-bitten and glistening, eyes wide and starry. “W…Wednesday…?”
Wednesday swung her leg off and stood, smoothing her uniform with a sense of detachment. The room suddenly felt too warm, too bright, too full of strawberry-vanilla and the echo of Enid’s soft whimpers. Her pulse refused to calm. She walked away only pausing at the door, one hand on the knob, and glancing back over her shoulder.
“I have something to attend to and I must not be late.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
Enid stared at the ceiling, heart still thundering, body humming like a live wire, and whispered to the empty room, “What the hell just happened?”
Outside, Wednesday headed straight to the Nevermore greenhouse, slipping through the heavy glass doors and into the humid, overgrown shadows. The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers and damp earth. She moved past towering Venus flytraps and drooling pitcher plants until she reached the far corner, hidden behind a wall of carnivorous vines. There, she sat on the cold stone bench, back straight, hands folded tightly in her lap.
She sat in silence for what seemed an eternity until she lifted one shaky hand and pressed two fingers to her lips, still feeling the ghost of Enid’s mouth, soft, eager, tasting like everything Wednesday had spent years convincing herself she didn’t need. Her heartbeat was still too loud, too fast, hammering against her ribs like a traitor.
“This was supposed to be controlled,” She thought, jaw tightening. “A test for data gathering. Twenty minutes of empirical observation.”
Instead it had cracked something open inside her chest, something warm, chaotic, and entirely unacceptable. Enid’s little whimpers replayed in her mind on loop. The way her body had arched so willingly under her weight. The way those colorful claws had flexed helplessly against Wednesday’s grip, never once trying to break free even though she could have...easily.
Wednesday closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. “Sentimental fool…I am no better than my Father…” She muttered to the empty greenhouse.
Enid’s scent still clung to the collar of her uniform. The memory of those plush thighs shifting beneath her made heat pool low in her stomach again. She crossed her legs tighter, irritated at her own body’s betrayal.
Twenty minutes had only proven one thing: the hypothesis was correct. Enid wanted her. And worse, she wanted Enid…Desperately, repeatedly and possibly for longer than twenty minutes next time.
She sat there until her pulse finally steadied and her mask slid back into place like armor. Only then did she stand, brush an invisible speck of pollen from her sleeve, and turned towards the exit with only one thought on her mind. “I am not done with Enid Sinclair. Not even close.”
