you're a gazelle, i'm a wounded fawn

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/43305423.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/F
Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022)
Relationship: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams & Enid
Sinclair, Enid Sinclair & Yoko Tanaka
Character: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Yoko Tanaka, Xavier Thorpe
Additional Tags: Fluff, Love Confessions, Autistic Wednesday Addams, Lesbian Enid
Sinclair, Psychic Abilities, Comfort, prophetic visions but the visions are
just telling you you're in love with ur bestie, Blood
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-11-28 Completed: 2022-12-04 Chapters: 3/3 Words:
12790

you're a gazelle, i'm a wounded fawn

by dontstraytoofar

Summary

“Oh, come on Addams,” Yoko says, looking down to the smaller girl through her black
glasses. “I’m a vampire, I can practically hear your heartbeat when she’s around.”

Wednesday freezes up, and not the fun kind, not the brief spasm her muscles do before she
fakes rigor mortis, when she slows her heart down until it’s almost non-existent. It’s the
kind where if anything, it makes her heartbeat speed up, and the knowing smirk she is
afforded from the other girl makes Wednesday want to stake Yoko through the heart and
pin it to her murder board.

The only tell-tale sign that the words got to her is the tiny, almost unnoticeable, twitch to
her right eyebrow. “I resent that observation.”

After Crackstone, Wednesday's visions become even more unstable and confusing, and it
doesn't help she's only just realised she's in love with a werewolf.

Notes

i am not immune to black cat/golden retriever pairings sorry <3 comments and kudos super
appreciated! i just needed a break from my other fics, binged wednesday, then needed to
write this ksdksd enjoy! x
 Chapter 1

Over the course of the past months, after the Hyde and Goody and Crackstone and the blissful
warm embrace of a (however brief) death, Wednesday comes to the realisation that her visions still
don’t understand the concept of giving the whole picture.

And lately, to reasons that have still alluded her, no matter how many times she’s sat up late
thinking about it, they start to revolve around something specific. Well, rather, someone.

Most of the time, they are mundane and asinine and make Wednesday want to rip her hair out
when she’s forced into the spine aching arch of a vision at the café as she hands the new worker a
fresh bill, to just then be shown that tomorrow Enid will find a similar ten dollar note flapping in
the tire of someone’s bike. Her powers will show the blonde smile wide, grabbing it and bouncing
on the spot at her luck. Wednesday is at her typewriter and her neck will snap back to the ceiling,
her pointer finger on the letter ‘T’, only to be frustratingly shown her best friend accidentally
spilling scalding hot tea on her front as her bright blue eyes water at the edges in pain.

Her visions used to mean something, mean more than luck and stupid accidents, they used to
revolve around things that were world ending- full of blood and high stakes and claws inside of
flesh. She tries to brush away the pang of regret she has at her thoughts; if anything, maybe she
should be thankful she’s having visions of someone she enjoys the most amongst the very, very
few she can already tolerate.

Wednesday snaps back, pinkie hitting a wrong letter on the keys from the jarring movement as she
grits her teeth in anger.

Grabbing her phone, like every time Enid is hurt in these visons, she slowly texts out to her friend;
a warning.

Are you making tea?

The bubbles of Enid’s response are almost instantaneous. Wednesday narrows her eyes. Pathetic.
But she still tries to hide the flutter in her stomach at the eagerness of the other girl, how she’s only
ever like that with her.

woah! Enid replies, and the brunette can almost see in her mind those wide, crystal eyes. how'd
you know?

Lucky guess.
At the confused face emoji Enid sends back, Wednesday elaborates.

That was a joke. Obliviously, my visions showed me that you’re going to spill it down your front
when you make it to the quad. It will burn. Severely.

Wednesday detests that when she sends it, there is no satisfaction at the prospect of third degree
burns, there is nothing fun about Enid in pain, and Wednesday is absolutely baffled at the thought.
She detests even more, though, the name Enid has for her that shows above her message. “Bestie”
it says, with a stupid, toe-curling pink heart emoji right next to it and a ghost emoji. If it was
anyone else, Wednesday would have cracked their phone in half. But it’s Enid, so it stays.

thank you!!! you're the best x

The brunette tilts her head. Best at what? Wednesday briefly thinks. Friendship? I am succeeding at
high grades in friendship, Wednesday thinks. Which is both a normal and healthy thing to want.

Then another more glaring observation is hitting Wednesday as she types back, as quick as she can.
Phone keyboards are entirely different to typewriters, she’s starting to find.

Wait, you don’t drink tea.

Wednesday watches the bubbles appear and reappear from Enid’s indecisiveness Her lips tilt ever
so slightly on a smirk; making Enid flustered will never tire or grow old. She has no time to self-
evaluate how she remembers Enid doesn’t drink tea, rather if she had the choice, the other girl
would inject coffee into her veins.

nope! it was for you. you only drink it when you write, and you’re writing, sooo

Wednesday does not blush when the text appears. She doesn’t. She forces the blood back into her
body and from her cheeks with a tiny, confused frown. Ever since the hug, ever since burying into
that soft spot of Enid’s shoulder and smelling that thick, rusty smell of blood and her shampoo and
something entirely uniquely Enid, Wednesday has increasingly found it difficult, so bone
challengingly difficult , to not think about it. Maybe that’s why her visions have manifested like
this, she thinks. Maybe that’s why Enid is even in her visions, because she won’t leave her
thoughts, even the safety and warmth of Wednesday’s nightmares.

Enid is spilling into every tiny crevice of Wednesday’s every thought; like a pill a person would
take to sleep and fall into a thick unconsciousness that blankets over your mind, something
insomniacs take to dream. Wednesday halts in her thoughts with a panicked stutter in her typing,
because these musings are dangerous for an Addams; these musings, where you crave a sweet and
painful unconsciousness with another on your mind, equals-

Wednesday quickly snaps the carriage of the typewriter onto a new line, eyes widening at the
revelation. Side effects of this sleeping pill may include: thinking about your werewolf best friend
who mauled your somewhat but also absolutely not boyfriend for you and came back from it
covered in thick, shining blood and hugged you so tightly you forgot what it felt like before it.

Wednesday blinks at the blank line, lips parted softly.

“Hi!”

Wednesday finally looks up when Enid enters their room, there are two takeout drinks in her hand;
one definitely coffee and the other tea. She can see from here the tea bag tag sway with the
blonde’s movement, and schools her features when she notices Enid made exactly what she likes.
 “God, it’s freezing out there!” Wednesday hums noncommittedly as Enid places her tea down in
front of her, looking up when the taller girl bounces on her toes. It’s started snowing as Christmas
break edges closer and closer, and even a werewolf can’t escape the biting cold. Enid’s nose is pink
from the weather, pale skin flushed and pretty. There is melting snow on her school uniform. She
almost looks like a corpse coming back to life; Wednesday’s heart flutters at the thought.

Wednesday doesn’t answer; simply grabs the tea with a grateful hum and Enid is used to these
silences, all too happy and wanting to fill them.

“So, you had another vision?”

Enid asks eagerly, and Wednesday lets the scalding hot tea burn down her throat as she takes a sip.
Just how she likes it. “They are becoming increasingly benign.” She says flatly, and doesn’t miss
how Enid deflates with a pout; when her bottom lip juts out like that, Wednesday feels a thousand
spiders swarm her lower stomach. Like they weaved their home in the pit of the organ and crawled
the length of the brunette’s jugular, making her throat close up.

“Damn, so I’m not gonna find like, a hundred bucks on the street tomorrow?”

Wednesday’s eyebrow twitches, tilting her head. “Enid, my prophetic visions are not a tool for you
to benefit from.”

The other girl winces, clutching her coffee in two hands. “I know! I-I know, it’s just,” Enid smiles
shyly. From here, Wednesday can see her canines peeking out and is shoved into the memory of
their hug, how much blood still dripped from the ivory blades when the blonde cuddled into her
neck. “I’ve never been the subject of a psychic's visions before. It’s kinda cool! You know?”

Wednesday narrows her eyes, tries to ignore the flutter of those eight legs inside of her belly at
Enid’s smile. “It’s just a fluke,” Wednesday says simply, turning back to her typewriter as she
takes a sip of her tea again. Scalding. That’ll show the spiders. “Don’t get attached. It’s
unbecoming.”

Enid softly smiles to her, knows much better by now, what Wednesday means by those words. I
don’t want to disappoint you. Wednesday never could. It’s impossible now. After that hug, Enid
hopes Wednesday knows just how much she means to her. She hopes Wednesday knows she
wouldn’t get covered in blood and entrails just for anyone; she covered her teeth in blood for her.
She hopes Wednesday understands what that means.

-
Two days later and the visions don’t stop.

Enid is now used to the messages she receives in class from Wednesday. Even from in front of her,
the brunette sneakily texts her under the desk that: The quiz our new teacher is handing you will
give you a paper cut and Yoko is going to ask for the answer to number 42. You won’t know it. It’s
Golden Dewdrop. And every time there is this insane, debilitating, swarm of butterflies in Enid’s
stomach at the messages that has her smiling and biting her lip.

But then it’s halfway through their new dissection assignment that Enid is afforded a full-blown
Wednesday vision. It happens just after she grabs the scalpel, stomach churning at the pig's heart
that stares back at her. Enid gags, shaking her head as her blonde hair moves with the action.

“Yoko,” She says, whimpering slightly as she holds out the scalpel to her friend. “You do it. I
can’t.”

The vampire smirks, snorting. “You’ve taken down a Hyde Enid, it’s a pig's heart.”

“That looks like it’s still beating!” Enid says, gesturing to the pinned open organ.

It isn’t, she’s just dramatic and still squeamish at blood. Yoko sighs in resignation, and before she
can rebut again, Enid is jumping slightly in her seat as suddenly, the flash of Wednesday seizing in
front of her begins; thrust into an electrifying vision that has Enid’s hairs standing up on end. From
here, the blonde gasps worriedly at how visceral this one is, because her best friend’s neck snaps
so quickly she’s almost looking back at Enid from in front of her. Her eyes roll back, balls of white
glaring to the ceiling as Enid stands up.

“Wednesday?” She worryingly calls, and Xavier next to her catches the other girl's elbow in
concern as her nails dig into the desk, one of the scalpel’s trapped between her palm and the
surface. By now, the rest of the class has paused at the commotion as the teacher tries to calm
everyone down, and Enid worriedly bounces on her toes waiting for it to end.

“Okay, Wednesday?” Enid grows increasingly worried, heart beating painfully in her chest in
distress at how the brunette’s eyes haven’t rolled back, her neck still craned to the ceiling as she
shakes. Enid reaches out from behind her, warm palm settling on her bicep as she squeezes. Tears
sheen across her blue eyes. “Wednesday, can you hear me? Are you-”

Wednesday snaps back, chocolate obsidian eyes returning to normal as she almost immediately
turns in her seat. Her face is its usual stoic façade, but her eyes are so wide and alarmed and shaken
that it takes Enid by surprise as she parts her lips.

“Wed-”

Before the blonde can speak, her best friend is up and out of her chair rounding Enid’s. She has no
time to question anything, because Wednesday is grabbing the scalpel out of her hand with a
quickness a werewolf couldn’t even catch up to. Enid blinks back with wide blue eyes as
Wednesday slams it on the table in front of her.

“Don’t touch that,” Wednesday says, and Enid catches this tiny shake to her voice that her face
isn’t betraying. But her eyes are like windows, deep and worried as the other girls’ eyebrows
furrow in concern.

“Don’t...” Wednesday tries to collect herself, clenching her jaw. “Don’t do this dissection.”

“Okay,” Enid squeaks out, shaking her head quickly. Wednesday is oozing something that has the
young werewolf’s head spinning, something that feels like protection and equal parts fury; Enid is
suspended by it. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Wednesday nods ever so slightly, schooling her features as she addresses Yoko looking to them
from beneath her sunglasses. “You,” The brunette says, making Yoko raise an eyebrow. “You are
Xavier’s partner now.”

Yoko snorts, resting her chin in her hand as she regards Wednesday. “And do I get a say in this?”

Wednesday tilts her head, swallowing back a nasty comment about vampires she has stored in her
brain for situations like this. You won’t be able to say anything when I shove your mouth with
garlic. But she refrains, only because Yoko is Enid’s friend.

“No,” She says, staring back as a tiny growl forms around the word. Enid looks between them
with wide ocean eyes, ping ponging back and forth. “This is non-negotiable. Move, or you will be
moved.”

Yoko finds this entire ordeal amusing, grinning with her fangs as she holds her hands up and
gathers her books, sitting next to Xavier who raises an eyebrow in question.

When Wednesday settles, Enid blinks furiously to gather her bearings. Her heart is practically
skyrocketing from her ribcage at Wednesday acting like that, for her.

Wednesday’s voice then brings Enid from her thoughts, holding her pale hand out wordlessly as
she stares at the pig's heart, lips spreading into a delighted smile. Oh god, Enid thinks. That smile
should be illegal. The way her lips spread against her teeth, how rare it is, how she has a dimple in
her left cheek that is bigger than the other. Enid blushes as she stares into the side of Wednesday’s
face and commits that smile to memory, how wolfish and beautiful it is.

“Scalpel.” Wednesday demands, and Enid hurriedly hands it over, almost dropping it in her haste.

She forces herself to look at Wednesday’s cheek, not only because of the incision the brunette
makes into the flesh, but because Enid finds she can’t actually look away. Wednesday’s smile turns
back to stoic slowly, focusing on the task at hand.

“Thanks,” Enid says softly, twisting her lips as she plays with her fingers to hide her lovesick
smile. Wednesday frowns ever so slightly without looking away from the heart between them.

“I’m confused on what I’m receiving gratitude for.”

Enid smiles, snorting. She nudges Wednesday with her elbow and because they’re friends now,
Enid doesn’t fear of her reaction. Instead of being stabbed thirty-two times at the action,
Wednesday simply looks to the touch and away again like she was hiding how it made her feel,
trying to avoid Enid’s gentle smile.

“For knowing I hate this kinda stuff and doing it for me.”

Wednesday makes a cut along an aorta, but at the words slips in her concentration. She nicks it too
deep, and a spurt of laten pressured blood spits against Wednesday’s cheek. She blinks once at the
feeling, reaching up with her thumb and gathering it on the pad. Enid, for once, doesn’t
immediately gag at the sight when Wednesday puts it in her mouth and hums at the taste.

“Type A.” She demounts, and for some unknown reason Enid physically swoons at Wednesday’s
educated observation. What can Enid say, she’s a sucker for nerds. “I am not doing this project for
you,” Wednesday continues, cutting a piece of fat away. “I had a vision.”
 “Yeah,” Enid says slowly in amusement, her pink lips spread across her face and Wednesday
frowns softly at those spiders inside of her again. “Pretty hard to miss.”

The brunette’s lips twitch on a ghost of a smile. She likes it when Enid is sarcastic. “You cut
yourself deeply on the scalpel,” Wednesday says deadpan, and watches how Enid gulps worriedly
at the description. “Almost to the bone. You passed out at the amount of blood, hitting your head
on the way down, leading to a concussion.”

Enid parts her mouth in shock as Wednesday retells the vision, watches how the other girl’s
eyebrows furrow under her dark bangs this slight amount at the memory. “Your deterrence to
anything macabre confuses me.” Wednesday says, making Enid softly smile. Yeah, that’ll never
change. “And as much as the idea of you covered in blood entices me,”

Enid flushes red, throat drying up as Wednesday steals all of the air inside of her lungs.

“I abhor the kind where it is yours.” She says simply, and her voice has pitched ever so slightly in
softness. Enid feels goosebumps line her skin at how Wednesday said that as if that isn’t the most
romantic thing an Addams could say, as if Enid wouldn’t see through her words and right into the
heart of what Wednesday is actually trying to convey.

“You...do?” The blonde says softly, slowly, biting her lip briefly as the other girl hums. Her
scalpel is paused in it’s cuts as Wednesday stares into the open organ, the gears in her brain
working overdrive.

“Yes.” She says simply, making Enid beam like a thousand suns just blinded her vision.
Wednesday immediately turns to her, pushing the scalpel threateningly into Enid’s side as the
werewolf squeaks in surprise.

“Use this information against me, Enid, and I will not hesitate to make my vision come true.”

Enid nods, still smiling, so wide her eyes crinkle at the edges. Wednesday’s gaze softens, she’s so
devastatingly pretty – like the kaleidoscope of colours that bursts behind your eyes when your
stabbed by a resurrected pilgrim. Yes. That feeling, Wednesday surmounts. The feeling of almost
dying and being breathed back to life.

“I promise,” Enid says, leaning closer. Wednesday has to lean a little back with parted lips so the
scalpel actually doesn’t cut her. Yet Enid moving forward like that means everything, it means: I
trust you so much that I know you actually won’t hurt me.

“But this means you love me, right?”

Wednesday looks quickly up from the tool in Enid’s stomach with wide eyes; from behind the dark
curtain of her hair, she knows her gaze must be love struck, must be dizzying and foolish like how
her father gazes at her mother in some sick, gut churning display of devotion.

“I would kill for you,” Wednesday says, scalpel now loose in her grip but still hard against the
plane of Enid’s stomach. The other girl blushes fiercely. “I would die for you.” Wednesday
continues, she can’t stop the word vomit now that it’s here. She thinks of their hug. She thinks of
their hug.

But here Enid is, and in some divine way she knows what Wednesday means, without even having
to ask as she grins. “That, in Addam’s language, means yes.” She says smugly, but her blue eyes
are so soft around the edges that Wednesday blinks back to them in clarity. Yes, she thinks. Yes, it
does.
Enid’s gaze softens, moving closer and bringing Wednesday into a hug. Now, the scalpel is sharp
against the werewolf’s stomach, but neither pull away. Enid presses her smile into Wednesday’s
shoulder, canines peeking through from her happiness.

“I love you too, Wednesday.”

Wednesday blinks furiously behind her dark hair. Instead of holding back, her grip loosens on the
scalpel, and she buries her chin and face just a little deeper into the crook of Enid’s neck. Here, she
can still smell the blood, the dirt, the panic at almost losing Enid and how much that made
Wednesday realise she cares for her.

Maybe the visions were telling Wednesday something this whole time, screaming at her from that
tiny part of her mind she tries to lock away. Maybe they were saying: love her. Love her. Before
it’s too late.

Wednesday is confronted an hour later after class by Yoko, by her sharp teeth and knowing smile
as she runs into her, rounding the corner of the building. Wednesday steps back, regarding the
taller girl coldly as she hugs her books to her chest.

“So,” The vampire starts, smirking. “When were the rest of us going to hear about this new
development?”

Wednesday narrows her eyes in confusion, looking Yoko up and down with a tilt of her head.

“Oh, come on Addams,” Yoko says, looking down to the smaller girl through her black glasses.
“I’m a vampire, I can practically hear your heartbeat when she’s around.”

Wednesday freezes up, and not the fun kind, not the brief spasm her muscles do before she fakes
rigor mortis, when she slows her heart down until it’s almost non-existent. It’s the kind where if
anything, it makes her heartbeat speed up , and the knowing smirk she is afforded from the other
girl makes Wednesday want to stake Yoko through the heart and pin it to her murder board.

The only tell-tale sign that the words got to her is the tiny, almost unnoticeable, twitch to her right
eyebrow. “I resent that observation.”

“Well it’s true,” Yoko says, scoffing. “Your heartbeat like, drowns out every other student when
Enid is around.” Wednesday says nothing to this, instead she clenches her jaw at Yoko’s keen
vampiric senses. Yes, her heart does elevate when Enid smiles to her, when she laughs, but that is
for Wednesday to know and for her to only, know.

Before she can rebut, Yoko is kindly smiling to her, and Wednesday doesn’t know what to do
when on the receiving end of it.

“Just, don’t hurt her?” She says, and Wednesday’s eyes flash at the mere notion. “She’s like, the
last good person in the world, or whatever. And her heart is one giant green-flag.”

Wednesday stands a little straighter, because this whole conversation sounds like herself and Enid
are dating, and the daydream of that reality has Wednesday’s heart soaring. When she answers, her
dark eyes glint in warning. “I would sooner let you turn me into a blood sucking parasite than hurt
her.”

Yoko blinks back at the monotone, yet somehow passionate words, Wednesday utters. “Damn,”
She whistles. “Being a vampire that bad?”

At this, Wednesday’s face scrunches up in disgust, the most emotion Yoko has ever seen from her.
“The idea of living forever exhausts me.” She says, and okay, fair. “But I would endure an eternity
of suffering if Enid remained unharmed.”

And with that, Wednesday brushes past her and out of her eyesight. And Yoko is left to stand and
blink in shock. Okay, so her friend is forever going to be safe with the goth psychic, that’s
reassuring. But fuck , she thinks, shaking her head in amusement, that Addam’s love is no joke.

-
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

after how nice the receival was on the first chap i couldnt not give it another! im
leaving this as completed but honestly i may come back to it in the future when im
done with my other fics <3 enjoy! like always comments and kudos are so loved and
appreciated x

The visions, these bright electrifying prophecies, don’t even cease when Winter break starts. If
anything, for Wednesday, her Enid visions, as Thing so frustratingly calls them, persist even more
and turn even more bright with clarity the closer the holiday edges towards them.

Last night, she cracked her spine and exerted the whites of her eyes at a vision of Enid in the snow,
because Wednesday reached out the stain glass window of their room to touch the falling
snowflakes and carelessly thought she was safe . Thought indulging in this brief, icy feeling would
be enough to distract her from her incessant and nagging thoughts of her best friend.

It wasn’t. Wednesday watches in her vision as the blonde slip on the ice, right onto her wrist,
wincing as pain shoots up the tendon and Enid tears up in the pillowy snow.

Then, in the morning while showering, Wednesday reaches for the soap and when her fingertips
caress the bar, her neck snaps to the ceiling. She sees Enid in the school’s bathroom get shot in the
eye with a malfunctioning liquid soap dispenser; the blonde flaps her hands around uselessly and
whimpers as Yoko laughs at her friend’s misfortune.

They don’t stop. It seems every day Wednesday is saving Enid from increasingly interesting and
weird ways to injure herself. Her texts are normal now, sometimes she’s tempted to just stick by
Enid’s side every minute of the day as a preventative cause.

You leave your essay on your desk tomorrow morning and fail. Don’t forget it.

And,

This one is just confoundingly stupid. Wednesday texts, still utterly dumbfounded at this particular
vision and her best friend’s accident-prone body.

You trip outside our room and break your nose, gushing the floor with blood. Then, as an after-
thought (that makes her eye twitch at how much it makes her feel like she cares ) Wednesday
adds:
Tie your shoelaces triple knot today.

She’s always met with a multitude of love heart emojis that make her shiver, and a thousand thank
you’s from Enid’s grateful typing fingers.

Bottom line, Wednesday’s visions are still Enid Enid Enid; she hasn’t had one normal episode not
centred around her best friend. Wednesday turns to every book she can find, even so far as asking
Xavier to check the Nightshade library on everything pertaining psychics and mediums and
precognition. Nothing. There is nothing on Raven visions. The only thing close to mentioning
something similar to Wednesday’s dilemma, is a chapter in a book the brunette found in the
school’s library.

The Psychic Phenomena – the arcane gift of premonition.

She’s there in the building now, sunken into the leather lounge across from Enid. The smell of old
books, air conditioning, and stained wood floors overwhelms her; not as much as the blonde’s
perfume though. Sickening sweet, Wednesday can smell it from here. It makes her gag. It makes
her swoon. It makes Wednesday yearn to hug her again.

Enid, across the way on one of the desks, is getting last minute studying done before the holidays
with Xavier and Yoko. And every so often when Wednesday looks up, she catches the other girl
staring at her with those soft, azure eyes.

Enid never tries to hide it, she simply smiles and waves softly, looking back down to her books as
she twirls a feathery pen in her hands and blows a bubble of her pink chewing gum, as pink as her
cheeks.

Wednesday blinks back every time, cooling her face to remain unaffected. Her hands tighten
around the pages in barely hidden affection; jaw clenching as her heart races in her chest. Thing on
her shoulder, every time, waves back and signs kindly – and it makes Enid beam and knock her
knees together in happiness.

Wednesday is reminded of her other vision in the morning, when she pulled her long socks on and
tied her shoes. At the touch of her knee, she was thrust into another premonition that starred the
one and only Enid Sinclair. She quickly pulls out her and the other girl’s messages, typing quickly
before she forgets it.

Under the table, above your knee. Gum. A lot of it.

She watches Enid receive the message, smile, send her a happy thumbs up from across the way and
Wednesday quirks her eyebrow that she received it. Spiders, again, Wednesday realises.; curling
into her chest and laying eggs when Enid bites her lip on a smile.

Looking back down to her book, Wednesday focuses on the words, swallowing those arachnids
back into their home.

The novel states: “ If a seers premonitions begin to take a liking to certain subjects, be it animals
or family members or world politics, these visions can be rooted in a desire to understand the
unknown.”

Wednesday knows lots of things, thousands. She knows exactly how to skin a rabbit or load her
father’s shot gun; she knows the entire chemical makeup of a hornet. She knows Enid doesn’t like
tea, and takes her coffee with three sugars; she knows yesterday she heard someone comment on
her best friend’s face scar and almost flayed them alive with a burning intensity that lit her soul
alight.

“Psychics rely heavily on what they know amidst prophecies that they don’t recognise – yet you
must not construe fact with desire. If you see a future filled with fire, do not immediately assume
water has left the earth.

Understand you are seeing a specific future that pertains to what you don’t understand, and if a
seers visions persist (can be months, weeks) with this certain object of desire, it’s likely due to a
mental, or emotional, block. This phenomenon has not been widely studied, and in turn, do not be
alarmed if you are driven mad.”

Wednesday purses her lips ever so slightly at this. Driven mad. Enticing, but this small passage
amongst a sea of books leaves Wednesday even more at a loss at what she’s experiencing. Thing
scrambles down to the small table in front of the younger girl, signing quickly and jaggedly as
Wednesday leans forwards a little to read.

Emotional block. He says, tapping the letters of her name on the table. Enid.

Wednesday bites her tongue, tastes metal and sulphur and cherries from her lipstick. Snapping the
book shut and shoving it into her bag to borrow, she answers with a dangerous monotone lilt to her
voice.

“Do you like having fingers, Thing?”

Thing flattens against the table, like a kicked puppy. Wednesday is thrust into the memory of a
knife through his palm, of her terror, and she relents with a tiny, pained furrow of her brows at the
reminder.

In apology, she opens her hand up for Thing to scurry amongst. He springs up to rest against her
shoulder, tapping her in thanks.

Then, without a second thought, she’s beelining to Enid and the others table. Wednesday doesn’t
miss how the other girl brightens at her presence; it’s still confusing to Wednesday to have
someone in her life that doesn’t immediately gag and scream at the sight of her. Wednesday also
doesn’t miss how her own heart clenches at the sight of Enid excited to see her.

“Xavier,” She says, and Enid’s eyes widen as she furrows her brow in question. Said boy across
from her looks even more confused than her best friend. “Come.” Wednesday wordless says,
spinning on her heel to the Fiction section.

Her choice in person is calculated. If she is to say this, if she is to admit it out loud, Xavier will do.
Wednesday will never admit it, staple her eyes open and make her watch Pitch Perfect and she still
wouldn’t, but her and Xavier are more alike than she is keen to admit.

When he follows, albeit extremely confused, he hikes up his bag on his shoulder, scratching his
eyebrow.

“Uh, what’s u-”

“You once said there is nothing to like about me.” Wednesday says straight to the point, and
watches the taller boy stutter on an embarrassed laugh. They’ve said their apologies, in their own
way, but Xavier still cringes at the harsh words he said to her in the Nightshade’s lair.

It’s fair, Wednesday thinks, she did after all send him to prison. Her lips tilt in mirth at the
memory.
 “Yeah,” He breathes out, pursing his lips. His hair is even longer now as he grows it out from the
cold. “Did I not...apologise for that already?”

Wednesday narrows her eyes. “No, you did, but you were right.”

Xavier blinks in shock.

“There is little about me that is appealing to the average person.” Wednesday says, without pause,
without hesitation.

If anything, her voice is painted with the notion that she is pleased with this fact, not before she
elaborates with a thoughtful expression, the only emotion flashing past her face told in the furrow
of her brows. She’s looking a little to the left of Xavier, not meeting his eyes.

“I am standoffish, rude, cunning. The very morals I have do not invoke the feelings of someone to
be trusted.”

Xavier snorts, shoving his hand into his pant pocket and shrugging. “Enid trusts you.”

Against Wednesday’s will, her better judgement, the words have her eyes softening, impossibly
so.

“Yes,” She hums, eyes flicking to over his shoulder. He follows her gaze, smiles knowingly at
how Wednesday’s dark eyes dilate when Enid’s laugh punctures the bookshelves they are
amongst. Yeah, he thinks, when he looks to them in this light, they work. Wednesday and Enid.
Kinda weirdly poetic, he thinks.

Wednesday’s glinting eyes puncture Xavier again, looking to him piercingly from beneath her hair.
For how short she is, the girl is frighteningly intimidating. “I am telling you this because I wish to
understand why.”

Xavier clears his throat, rocking on his heels. “Why...what?”

“Why my visions are becoming increasingly confusing.” Wednesday says, and a lightbulb flickers
inside of Xavier's teenage boy brain. The brunette’s neck tenses, like she was physically
swallowing bile; as if the words biting from behind her teeth begging to be said were physically
paining her.

“Why Enid likes me,” Wednesday settles on, blinking once from beneath her bangs. “And why I
am not detested by the mere fact.”

He smirks, shaking his head. He looks to her patiently, pointedly, as if Wednesday should be
realising herself just from what she said. Wednesday doesn’t like how her unemotional stare
doesn’t even affect him anymore. He has a knowing smile on his face Wednesday loathes. She
grits her teeth, jawline accentuated by her growing anger. Thing on her shoulder pats her to put her
at ease.

“Wednesday...” He says, his smile turning into a laugh at the other girl’s expense. “I think what
you’re experiencing is feelings.”

Wednesday looks slightly away from Xavier's gaze, expression blank but eyes betraying exactly
what she’s feeling. He can see it. This is Wednesday Addam’s blushing, without any actual colour
staining her cheeks as they turn a sickly pale. Xavier leans against a bookshelf, both hands in his
pockets as he kindly regards his friend.
 “Enid likes everybody.” He shrugs. At this, Wednesday feels a little prick of pain on her pin
cushion heart.

“But you’re...I don’t know, you’re Wednesday.” She looks back to him, head tilted in question. “
Everybody sees it, she’s different with you. She likes you because you’re so hard to like.”

Wednesday internally preens. Good.

Xavier continues, seeing that ghost of a satisfied smile on the other girl’s lips at his words. “But I
think she likes you so much because, believe it or not Wednesday,” He shrugs. “She knows you
like her too. A lot.”

Wednesday looks to him then, scrutinising the truth to his words, the twitch in his face muscles,
the shift of his gaze. She can’t tell that he’s lying, so far, he looks like he’s speaking with truth.
This fact has Wednesday completely at a loss at what to do at the feelings in her chest, so she just
blinks, the wires in her mind working double time to come to an understanding.

Yes, like she insinuated the other day when Enid hugged her with a scalpel to her stomach,
Wednesday...loves her.

The revelation isn’t as terrifying as she thought.

Xavier must notice Wednesday’s internal dilemma, because he smirks and folds his arms. “So, are
you gonna tell me what’s up with your visions too?”

Wednesday turns her head and narrows her eyes at him. Then, says simply;

“Lately, the only thing I see of my future, is Enid.”

She blanks. Tries to school her features. The words were so unintentionally loud, straight from her
heart. Loud like an arrow in her shoulder. Loud like Enid’s tired, blood-soaked breath in her ears as
they hugged. Loud like the howl of her best friend to the moon.

Xavier raises an eyebrow. Huh. For the first time since meeting her, Wednesday seems awkward,
but he can only tell by how her eyes shift away from his gaze across her despondent expression.

“Like, only having visions of her?” He prods.

“Yes,” The brunette clarifies, a tired almost inaudible sigh leaving her lips. Thankful, she’s so
fucking thankful for the distraction of how ear deafening her chest is becoming.

“They are always of her getting hurt, or tiny inconveniences to her day. I used to see visions of
teeth, and claws. Now, only Enid...sometimes both.” Wednesday says, a tiny tilt of her head as she
recalls a memory.

“The other week, I envisioned her accidentally cutting me with her claws as I scared her entering
the room.”

Wednesday's lips flick into a shadow of a smile, recalling that sharp stab of exhilarating pain that
had her breath shortening in her chest in her vision, and no matter how many times Enid profusely
apologised, Wednesday was unperturbed. She thought of Enid’s aversion to blood, all things gore,
and how the other girl didn’t bat an eye at Wednesday’s.

Wednesday delivers this not with irritation, not with disdain touching her words, but rather the tone
of a person who sounds a little wistful. Xavier huffs on a laugh.
“Right. So, your powers are...what?” He says, raising an eyebrow. “Letting you protect your
werewolf girlfriend from tripping over her shoelaces? Giving you a paper cut?”

Wednesday’s eyes flick quickly to the other boy’s, jaw clenching as she glares to him.
“Girlfriend?”

(Wednesday is trapped. There is a book next to her foot she keeps accidentally shuffling as she lets
that word settle in her stomach. The spiders weave it into their web, permanently, they stick it to
the underside of Wednesday’s ribcage and form a safe, warm, beautiful cocoon around it.)

She steps closer, making Xavier swallow harshly. Grabbing the lapels of his school jacket and
shoving him hard against the bookshelf, Wednesday bores her eyes into his soul.

“I was never here. Breathe a word of this to anyone,” She threatens, “and I will make balloon
animals from your intestines.”

Before Xavier can answer, the object of Wednesday’s visions peaks her head into the aisle of
bookshelves with an excited smile. Before the brunette can even realise her eyes have done it,
they’re softening around the edges as Enid bounces into view. Blonde, multicoloured hair, pink
lips. Blue eyes. As blue as the lips of a cadaver.

“My wolf pack and Yoko’s clan just started a snowball fight!” Enid gleefully announces,
bouncing on her toes, not even phased at the other girl threatening Xavier.

Wednesday thinks of the tiny, thousands of snowflakes that will get caught in her hair, thinks of
how they’ll look like against Enid’s freckles.

“Well? Come on, Wednesday! I need you on my team.” She pleads, and before the smaller girl can
react, she’s being pulled by her hand and out the library doors by Enid’s warm fingers; a sea of
students follow, like fireflies to the commotion of all-out war.

Wednesday blinks when they make it to the freezing air of the quad, tilts her head as Enid
immediately hauls their bodies to take cover behind an upturned table. Wednesday lets herself be
rag dolled, knows if it was anyone else, she’d bite their fingers off one by one. But, like every
other time, it’s Enid.

Wednesday was right, when she looks to the taller girl, there is snow stuck in her hair and it
reminds her of the thick ash of fire as the school burned; the delightful and prickling sensation of
being pierced with an arrow and almost shot. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.

Then she realises, this is the exact image of Enid falling into the snow in her vision. Wednesday
imperceptibly widens her eyes in worry, watching almost in slow motion how Enid jumps up from
behind their cover to throw a snowball.

“Enid,” She hisses. “Wait, yo-”

Wednesday’s call is cut off as the blonde is solidly socked in the chest, gasping as the force has her
toppling on her feet. She tries to catch herself, but it’s too late as Enid loses her footing. She squeals
as Wednesday springs up from her crouched position, immediately holding out her arms to catch
her best friend’s falling body.

But the ground is icy and Wednesday jumped up all too fast, and suddenly she is landing hard on
her back with a grunt forced from her lungs as Edin’s entire weight falls onto Wednesday’s front.
Lying on her back in the snow, the brunette blinks at the suffocating weight of a young werewolf
on her lungs and thinks, blissfully, this is so much more lovely than the feeling of being buried
alive.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Enid says, scrambling to lean up and over Wednesday’s body
worriedly.

Her claws are out in panic, clenched in the snow by Wednesday’s head. The brunette blinks back
up to her, swallowing thickly, her face betraying nothing of her beating heart.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Enid fires off, blue eyes sheening with concern.

Wednesday’s eyes flicker back and forth across the blonde’s face as she regards the other girl.
Wednesday suddenly sits up, back straight and spine stiff like a vampire awakening from its coffin
slumber. Enid quickly scrambles back with wide eyes as the shorter girl turns her head to her.

They’re sharing the same air, almost nose to nose, and the blonde blushes furiously at
Wednesday’s deep eyes.

“For a werewolf,” The other girl says, brushing off snow from her uniform and her arms. “You
have surprisingly pitiful reflexes.”

Enid smiles shyly, sitting back on her haunches to give the other girl room. She was so close to her
lips it shook her entire foundations.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” She flushes, turning back to the snow and fully behind the table. Again,
she wordlessly grabs Wednesday’s hand to make her follow, and the brunette is finding that each
time she does it, she expects a fury of being man handled to overwhelm her. It doesn’t.

“ But,” Enid gathers snow in her hands, undeterred by the cold from her werewolf heat as she
grins; this glint of anticipation and competition in her gaze. “I took down a Hyde, so I think it like,
cancels out my clumsiness, right?”

Wednesday hums distractedly, too preoccupied with the excitement that floods her at Enid’s
competitive side showing, how she makes snowballs and bounces on her haunches getting prepared
to rain fire. Wednesday finds she’s endeared, disgustingly in love, at the image of Enid with
mischief in her eyes.

“This is so fun. Yoko won’t know what hit her!”

Wednesday watches, enraptured and kneeling next to Enid, as she hauls a snowball over the table
and ducks back down; squealing in glee. Wednesday tilts her head, blinking, trying to focus on
anything but the raging swarm inside of her.

Hm. So, this is love, Wednesday thinks. This is why shrike’s impale their prey on thorns for their
mates; this is why when Wednesday looks to Enid, she thinks if she could, she’d dissect pig’s
hearts for her until the end of time.

“I fail to see how this constitutes as fun.” Wednesday says, stoic as ever. “Leaving razors inside
them would be more effective. It’s how Pugsly and I played.”

Enid looks to her, snorting on a laugh. Wednesday’s morbid comments don’t get her anymore, she
loves them, because it’s so Wednesday; and because the way she actually means it makes Enid
love her even more.

“Okay,” The blonde says, picking up a snowball and placing it in Wednesday’s hands. The
brunette looks down to it, heart stuttering in her chest at the warmth of Enid, and the freezing bite
of the snow.

“Think of it this way. This ,” Enid holds up Wednesday’s hand holding the snowball, grinning as
she speaks the other girl’s language. “is a deadly, compact ball of frozen water. If thrown hard
enough, by someone with murderous intent-” Enid looks pointedly to Wednesday’s concentrated
look. “from my guess, would show to have the same force of a deflated tennis ball.”

Wednesday’s eyes widen in delight at the words. Her mouth doesn’t twitch on a smile, but Enid
knows she’s glinting with barely hidden excitement at the prospect of maiming. Because her dark
eyes somehow dilatate even wider when she looks up, and Enid is grinning back to her, canines and
all.

“But like, don’t actually blind someone.” Enid says, panicking as she bites her lip nervously. “I
don’t want you getting expelled a second time.”

Wednesday tilts her head in disappointment; when a tiny sigh leaves her lips Enid swoons. Her
breath comes out in a frozen wisp of cold, somehow bathing Enid in bone melting warmth when it
hits her cheeks from their proximity.

“I make absolutely no promises.” She deadpans, but the tiny lift at the edge of her lips tells Enid
otherwise as she grins back to the brunette.

Then, Enid watches with wide baby blue eyes as the other girl springs up. Back straight, she dodges
in coming snowballs by just moving slightly to the left, or right, and Enid laughs because it
reminds her of Wednesday dancing to Goo Goo Muck and how delightfully Wednesday she was.
She didn’t care. She danced the way she wanted to, and Enid couldn’t take her eyes off of her for a
second. She wanted to jump in, dance stupidly with her, and she still regrets she didn’t.

When the first wave finishes, and Wednesday has dodged every single one, the brunette just fires
back an onslaught of unrelenting snowballs.

The blonde sits behind and keeps making the ammunition, snorting on a laugh when Thing joins in
and fist bumps her in greeting. She swears she hears someone scream in fear: “ Who the fuck
invited Addams?!” But Enid’s too focused on Wednesday’s wide, burgundy smile.

Her teeth flash in glee; reaching back down for more snowballs as the blonde stares up at her in
awe. She’s beautiful, devastatingly. Her black hair against the snow is like ivory coal; and Enid is
burning against the heat of her embers. Their hands brush in the exchange of snowballs and it’s like
Enid’s entire body explodes, making her gasp and blush crimson when Wednesday collapses back
down next to her.

And Enid, poor, unsuspecting Enid Sinclair, is irrevocably unprepared for the next short second.

Wednesday Addams laughs ; chocolate brown eyes wide with excitement as she turns to Enid
slumped against the fallen table of their barracks. Her smile is wolfish, punctured by the dimple in
her left cheek that the blonde obsesses over every single day of her life. There’s a snowflake on her
eyelash, there’s lipstick smeared just at the corner of her mouth at her exertion; Wednesday
Addams laughs because of Enid, and she can’t say anything over the lump in her throat.

Wednesday laughing is rare, Enid knows this, because it’s the first time she’s ever heard it.

This is like finding your mate, this is the precious moment of finally shifting to protect the girl you
love. This is like hand sewing a snood for a girl who hates all things remotely pertaining to gifts,
but still wears it immediately when asked by a werewolf who doesn’t think she deserves a love so
unselfish.

This is like finding jewels on a beach amongst an unfathomable number of grains of sand,
something precious that was hidden, that was tucked away; like Wednesday finally allowing
herself to laugh in the presence of someone who makes her so unbelievably fucking happy.

Her laugh relaxes, into something tender; Wednesday looks up into the falling snow that blankets
the earth and back down to the blonde. Enid can’t focus, lips parted as a blush paints her cheeks.

“Woah, yeah,” Enid says softly, blinking once, twice, absolutely, foolishly in love. “You need to
always be on my team now.”

Wednesday’s mouth has fallen back into its comfortable stoic position, but her lips still twitch in
mirth at Enid’s words. She hums, eyes narrowing in sudden thought. “We have always been a
team, haven’t we?”

Enid’s breath catches as she slowly smiles, giggling shyly. She gets the sudden urge to kiss her; she
wanted to when they first hugged, but now it burns her fingertips with the feeling.

“Yeah,” Enid says, flushed and happy because of Wednesday Addams. “We have. I guess after the
Gates house, I thought you regretted asking me along as part of your, you know,” Enid puts up
quotations in the air with her fingers. “Team.”

Wednesday tilts her head, chooses her next words carefully, because for all the times she doesn’t
let her emotions rule her, with Enid, they roam free.

“Enid,” She says to get the other girl’s attention. The blonde looks up with bated breath at her
name on Wednesday’s lips.

“I...” Wednesday starts, biting back a nervous breath she doesn’t let show. “I was not right to take
advantage of your friendship back then.” She lands on, and Edin softens.

“Yes, it’s true. You showed more cowardness than a mouse in a snake's jaw, begging for mercy.”
She deadpans, and Edin can’t help but smile into a laugh at the analogy, and how Wednesday says
it truthfully.

“But when it mattered, with the Hyde,” Wednesday continues, letting her brown eyes soften at the
edges under her bangs. Enid looks back suspended, caught in the brunette’s gaze as she forces the
words from her lips. “You were the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Enid flushes, biting her lip as her heart goes erratic in her chest. Wednesday Addams, thinking her
as brave. The blonde is dizzy with love. "You...really think so?”

Wednesday looks down to her lips, then back up into her blue eyes. “Yes,” She says, without a hint
of hesitation, and Enid’s breath catches in her throat when Wednesday blinks.

“I do not regret things easily.” She says. Wednesday’s palms are flat on the tops of her thighs as
she tilts her head. Enid’s heartbeat is so loud, like she just transformed and ran a mile in her wolf
form.

“But right now, I find I would regret, for the rest of my life, if I didn’t kiss you.” Wednesday says,
as if she didn’t just tilt Edin’s entire soul onto its head, as if Enid doesn’t melt into the very snow
beneath them.
Enid, wide eyed and small and safe in Wednesday’s gaze, nods in a daze. “Okay,” She says,
smiling when she notices the brunette’s eyes lose their edge to them, like she was scared of
rejection.

“Wait, sorry. Yes. Yes! ” Enid says again, eagerly, nodding her head so fast she gets dizzy. “You
can kiss me. Like, always. All the time. Everyday. Right now. Tomorrow, even-”

She’s cut off by those very lips, by the cold press of Wednesday’s burgundy mouth that Enid
squeaks into, that she absolutely melts at from the taste and the feeling of kissing her. Kissing her.
Kissing her. This sensation is everything Enid has ever wanted in her life, her inner beast preens at
the touch and submits all too willingly to the lips of Wednesday Addams. A hair of the brunette’s
bangs tickles Enid’s eyelashes and then they’re pulling back for air.

In the kiss, glitter from Enid’s eyeshadow has fallen on Wednesday’s cheek, some of her peach
lipstick has smeared the other girl’s lips. The blonde giggles, apologetically reaching up and
wiping it from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Wednesday watches her movements
carefully, doesn’t even flinch when Enid leans back in and kisses the spot.

If anything, she melts into it, and Enid’s eyes crinkle at the edges in happiness as her smile
threatens to split her cheeks.

“So,” Enid nervously says, biting her bottom lip. Wednesday hyper fixates on the motion, eyes
glued to the blonde’s soft mouth she wants to kiss again. “Does this mean...we’re a forever kind of
team?”

Wednesday looks up to her blue eyes, hums in agreement. “Yes,” And she lets that previous word
Xavier made her tie up in her ribcage unravel; the spider's concave around her bones and chitter to
each other to let the cocoon free.

“Girlfriend’s.” Wednesday simply says, internally delights when the other girl just brightens
impossibly more so and brings her into a spine crushing hug. Wednesday doesn’t reciprocate, she
merely finds her home in that soft spot of the blonde’s neck.

Enid is warm hearted, knee weak; knows the other girl across from her is it for her. Always has
been, ever since they met. Wednesday, soul balmed; blinking into the hug at the emotions swelling
her once dead heart.

And realising with a sudden relieving clarity, that despite her visions urging her, Wednesday isn’t
too late; she isn’t too late in loving Enid Sinclair. She’s perfectly on time.

-
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The holidays begin, biting and cold and filled with Christmas cheer that Wednesday doesn’t
understand and frankly never, in her entire life, will.

It’s the day before they’re set to visit Wednesday’s family for a week, the idea born from the
brunette thinking her Dove visioned mother may have some answers on her premonitions that she
could benefit from. And also from Wednesday immediately shutting down the idea of Enid visiting
her own parents, because: “Whatever pathetic excuse of an apology they want to drown you in,
Enid, you deserve better.” And the blonde melted on the spot, couldn’t really focus properly on
dreading the holiday’s when Wednesday gets protective like that.

And if Wednesday looked past her absolute disdain for Enid’s family, she’d be able to sooner take
notice of how her visions begin to finally slow down; almost to a grinding halt.

It’s been an entire forty-five minutes of a horror movie both girls’ have been watching and not one
distractive premonition has shaken Wednesday’s core. It’s simply been Enid snuggled into her side
with her face in the crook of the brunette’s in fear, for the better half of the movie.

She has a feeling it’s connected, ever since Enid and Wednesday’s kiss they have become
infrequent and hazy; the blonde barely shows up in them now. But once in a while, she’s afforded
tiny glimpses that last barely two seconds.

Enid stubbing her toe, Enid burning her hair on her curling iron, Enid being chased by a squirrel
she jokingly growled and barked at, Enid pushing a pull door and smacking her forehead into it
from the momentum.

And it’s absolutely confounding Wednesday; because what in hellspawns green earth could she be
missing now?

They’re together, Wednesday admitted her desires, it should all be gone like the book insinuated.
Like now, she even begrudgingly sometimes wears Enid’s pastel hoodies when the blonde agrees
to a horror night; so what is she overlooking? What more does her visions want her to reveal?

She’s bought jarringly out of her despondent and intense stare at their shared room’s tv from Enid’s
high-pitched squealing, scrunching up the fabric of her hoodie Wednesday wears as she hides her
face in her shoulder.
They’re sharing her pink, fluffy beanbag, sunken into each other in the small space as their elbows
knock from their proximity, legs touching. Enid’s fairy lights are on, there is a half-eaten bowl of
popcorn on Enid’s lap that’s been strewn across the floor from the blonde's fright.

On the static filled screen, Jennifer Check is consuming a chicken's carcass on the floor of Needy
Lesnicky's kitchen then vomiting black, vile blood all over her best friend. Although a campy
horror, and definitely not her favourite, Wednesday settled for Jennifer's Body when Enid
whimpered at even the idea of one single scene from Saw .

Wednesday, used to the jump scare, simply looks down to the blonde and tries to ignore how much
her body preens at being a shield against all things frightening to Enid. A werewolf, hiding into
Wednesday’s chest from a horror movie. Her lips twitch on a smile at the thought, at how
sometimes, like now, she thinks maybe she took a knife to the stomach for Enid Sinclair and not
for the so called greater good.

Thing, atop Enid’s shoulder, scurries to the floor and turns the volume down for his friend’s sake.

“You said this wasn’t scary!” Enid exclaims, muffled by the fabric of Wednesday’s clothes. The
brunette turns her head, speaking as the other girls’ blonde hair tickles her lips.

“It isn’t.” She deadpans, and smirks internally as Enid pulls from her shoulder with a pout; her
canines are a little sharper out of fear, and Wednesday is enamoured by it.

“I find it’s a perfect commentary on teenage girls' boredom and hunger, and on men’s desire to
take advantage of us without understanding there are consequences.” Wednesday insightfully says,
and Enid softens in her look at how the other girl stares back to the screen and readjusts slightly.

(Enid notices she does it so the movement allows her to fall closer into Wednesday’s side, right up
against her ribs.)

“Mostly, I like that she cannibalises boys.” Wednesday jokes stoically, and Enid snorts on a laugh
and doesn’t miss how the brunette’s lips tilt a little to the left.

“Well, she isn’t special,” Enid teases, folding her arms. “ I’ve done that.”

Wednesday widens her eyes in absolute delight. “You’ve eaten someone? Was it in wolf form, or
human?” She asks eagerly.

“No! Ew! Wednesday!” She squeals, gagging in disgust. Enid settles, shivering at the notion. Not
even the other girl’s dark, raven coloured hoodie she has on keeping her warm. “It was a joke.”
She says, smiling and rolling her eyes when Wednesday’s face falls back into barely hidden
disappointment.

Enid then winces in regret and mumbles. “The best I did was maul one.”

Wednesday hums, eyes warm and pleased, a little bit love struck. “Yes, you did.”

Enid shyly smiles, sinking further into the bean bag and Wednesday’s side. They settle into
comfortable silence, where Enid just opts to grab Wednesday’s entire arm and put it over her eyes
when Jennifer unhinges her jaw, tearing limbs and flesh. Wednesday lets her, unaffected at her arm
now hanging in the air as a protective shield for the taller girl.

Enid’s multicoloured claws come out in stress, piercing Wednesday’s arm and through her jumper,
making her eyebrow furrow and neck twitch at the delightful feeling.
“Ow.” She says monotone, but her heart flutters inside of her chest at the sensation.

“Sorry!” Enid flushes as she peaks over Wednesday’s arm, immediately retracting them with an
apologetic look thrown her way. Wednesday taps her nail against her thigh to quell how erratic her
breathing has become, stomach churning at the thought.

When Enid settles, reaching for the popcorn from her lap, (such a large amount in her hand it’s
almost concerning) Wednesday’s eyes widen and she immediately grabs the other girl’s wrist,
halting Enid’s mouthful as the blonde blinks and pouts. Eyebrows furrowed; she shoots a
questioning look to Wednesday’s hold.

Infuriating, Wednesday thinks. She’s adorable.

“Hey!” Enid tries to reach forward with her mouth open against Wednesday’s grip to no avail,
tongue peeking out to the handful of popcorn. When the brunette simply tugs her further from her
mouth, Enid huffs.

“I’m eating that, Wednesday.” She whines out.

“No.” She deadpans, and then simply squeezes Enid’s wrist a little making her drop the popcorn in
her palm. The blonde squeaks at the action, jutting her bottom lip out in a pout.

“A vision.” Wednesday explains, making Enid’s face lose its pouting in favour of realisation.
“This morning I saw you choke on the kernel. Please refrain from wolfing down like that.”
Wednesday tilts her head, narrowing her eyes in disdain. “Excuse the unintentional pun.”

Enid just giggles, nodding and winking as she plops a single piece of popcorn in her mouth this
time. Wednesday follows the movement carefully, watching the other girl swallow with keen and
worried eyes under her dark hair.

“Aw, you’re still having visions about me?” Enid teases, making Wednesday repress an eyeroll.
Enid knows if Wednesday was physically capable of it, she’d be blushing right now. Looking back
to the tv, the brunette elaborates.

“Yes. But not as...” She searches for the word, shifting her gaze from Enid and gluing to the
screen. “Frequently. If anything, they’re almost completely gone.”

Enid deflates into a disappointed pout, throwing another popcorn kernel into her mouth as a sudden
thought occurs to her. Moving to face Wednesday directly, she widens her eyes and swallows the
popcorn thickly. When she grabs to the brunette’s hand in a vice like grip, worried and caring,
Wednesday finds she’s getting used to the way Enid shows her love. Physical touch is new, but it
isn’t scaring her as much as she thought.

“Wait,” Enid says, ducking her head slightly as her blue eyes implore softly. “The visions don’t
hurt you, right?”

Her voice does this little wobble, like if she found out this whole time Wednesday’s visions were
harming her, she’d cry on the spot. Wednesday looks from the movie, eyebrows softening at the
edges at Enid’s tone.

“No,” She shakes her head a little, squeezes ever so gently back to Enid’s hand in hers in her own
way of saying it’s okay, don’t worry about me. And Enid releases this airy sigh of relief that comes
from somewhere deep from her werewolf, the part that would howl in discomfort at the thought of
hurting the people she loves.
 “Not physically.” Wednesday says, tilting her head. “Although, I do wonder if a seer has ever died
from a vision related death.” Her eyes dilate in morbid curiosity as she leans a little closer to a very
worried Enid. “How intensely do you think I’d have to snap my neck during a vision to instantly
sever my spine?”

“Wednesday!” The blonde squeaks out, face scrunched up in worry. Her blue eyes are a little
shiny with sadness. “I’d very much like to not think about you dying.” Enid stresses; Wednesday
notices her claws have come out in distress. Wednesday looks down to their hands, doesn’t miss
how nice it feels to be loved by her.

Enid’s voice then pitches to something softer, something that sounds like the warm, visceral
embrace of grief. “I already almost lost you once.”

The brunette looks up, feels, right in her belly, that gut churning feeling of guilt; because those
sapphire pools of blue are sad and yearning. It’s an entirely new and foreign concept, it feels like
when she drove Enid away from friendship, when it felt like she’d never have any more sickening
pastel colours to drown in because Wednesday realised, much, much too late, how being loved by
Enid wasn’t truly a concept she should have shy away from.

Intense? Yes. Overbearing? Yes. But like Enid said, somehow, they work, and ever since
Wednesday was a child her mother taught her that no matter how precious and immortal a thing,
never take its beauty for granted.

So, Wednesday softens, squeezing their hands again.

“Don’t worry.” She says stoically, but lets her voice turn a little gentler as Enid looks to her,
bottom lip drawn into her mouth nervously. “I would hazard a guess that the chance of vision
related death is abysmally low.”

Enid chuckles softly at how the other girl consoles her, how being loved by Wednesday Addams is
a little like being strapped into a roller-coaster. You sign your life away, even with knowing the
risks beforehand, and Enid realises more and more everyday how weirdly but wonderfully okay
with it she is.

“Ha. Ha.” Enid says dead pan, well, as best as she can when a smile is peaking through. She
throws a piece of popcorn at Wednesday and snorts on a laugh when the other girl doesn’t even
blink as it bonks her on the forehead. “So funny.”

Wednesday tilts her head, picking up the piece from her lap and eating it without even looking
down to her hands. She narrows her eyes softly. “That wasn’t sarcasm. Was my inflection not
obvious enough?”

Enid just shakes her head amusedly, supresses the urge to say “ What inflection??? ” as she falls
back into Wednesday’s side.

Her smile is wide, heart full, at how even though a lot has changed with her and Wednesday, the
brunette’s interesting and weird ways of making her feel better haven’t. It’s comforting. It’s warm.
Like the way Enid doesn’t miss Wednesday’s almost inaudible sigh of contentment when the
blonde falls back into her space and up against her ribcage.

Here, Wednesday can almost feel the blonde’s heart beat in her stomach.

It’s disorientating getting used to, Wednesday thinks. Used to less visions and more physical touch,
but she shouldn’t be surprised at how Enid never pushes her for more; she is content in what
Wednesday gives her and ecstatic at the brunette’s unique love language.

She finds that fact endearing, how Enid likes Wednesday’s differences. Maybe it’s because the
affection Wednesday does show, is only ever reserved for Enid, and the blonde is very hyperaware
of this. Almost proudly smug of it.

“Damn,” At Enid’s breathless voice, Wednesday is pulled from her thoughts. She looks to the
other girl, tilting her head slightly at Enid’s embarrassed laugh and her heated cheeks. “They’re,
um...really...g-going at it, huh?”

Perplexed, Wednesday looks from Enid and back to the screen, blinking once. Oh . The movie has
rolled to the make out scene; of Jennifer and Needy lit up by the warm glow of a bedside lamp in
her childhood bedroom. There are hands and body’s moving, there is so much skin painted across
the screen with planes of flesh and hands roaming. There is breathing, there are moans, there is
tongue and fire and want.

Wednesday blinks, looking back to Enid who’s flushing and who’s hands are suddenly clammy
against the brunettes as she sinks further into the beanbag and the smaller girls’ side.

But Wednesday, unperturbed by the scene, is sitting up straighter with a sudden clarity overtaking
her entire body.

Here, with Enid’s uncomfortable warm hand in hers and the knowledge that the blonde loves her,
loves her, despite Wednesday’s differences, she realises why the still lingering visions of Enid are
around. Why they haven’t left yet; realises the one thing she hasn’t really understood about herself
right until this moment. is what’s been clouding her mind with visions and blissful nightmares of
the blonde in her hold.

“Enid.” She says, turning to the other girl who squeaks at being addressed. Enid sits up too, pink
nose and pink cheeks to match. She is gorgeous, close to the hue of flesh and muscle.

“Yes?” She answers, crystal eyes flicking across every inch of Wednesday’s face and the brunette
finds she isn’t annoyed at being studied like that, not when it’s Enid.

Then Wednesday takes a breath, speaks her truth, and waits patiently for Enid to either accept it
into her open palms, or throw it away.

“I need to tell you something.”

Enid nods eagerly, supportively, and at the cue Wednesday is shifting her eyes away in a
nervousness she’d only ever show to Enid Sinclair. She searches, looks for the right words in the
static of a horror movie, but finds nothing. Instead, she looks into her chest, at the base of her once
shielded heart, and unearths so many words she isn’t prepared to find.

“When I think of-” Wednesday grunts, clenching her jaw when her voice closes around the words.
She frustratedly looks away, blowing an annoyed breath through her nose. Enid doesn’t push, just
looks softly towards her and sits patiently.

The brunette tries again, this time, briefly meeting Enid’s eyes. She finds nothing but kindness.

“The idea of so much of my-” Wednesday’s eyes flick to the screen then back, and Enid follows
with a patient and attentive look. “Skin, being seen by you, or touched, leaves me...adverse.”

Then, a little quieter, because Wednesday tried to soften the blow of her words, but it still sounded
like it came out wrong. Wednesday swallows, eyebrows a little furrowed as she strings the words
she wants to say together, so she isn’t misheard.

“I hope you understand what I mean. I hope that doesn’t bring you discomfort.”

Enid immediately perks up, widening her eyes as she moves a little closer. Wednesday doesn’t
move back like she would have before, before their kiss. They sink into the puffy pink bean bag
like two boats on the sea, destined to rock against each other's bows.

“Oh! No! It's okay, really,” The blonde says comfortingly, in understanding, and Wednesday eases
in her rigid disposition at her girlfriend’s words and how warm her voice is.

Oh. Yes. Girlfriend. She’s still getting used to that one. The spiders in her abdomen crawl over
each other in excitement as Wednesday thinks the term. This must be how it feels to have a
stomach flip in deep affection, Wednesday thinks. Like cyanide curdling. Like fire on a tongue.

“You don’t have to apologise for not...being attracted to me in that way.” Enid says shyly, a fierce
blush painting her cheeks as she blinks owlishly back to her. Curse her, Wednesday thinks, curse
her for her pretty eyes and sunshine smile; because when her hand is taken in by Enid’s in support
the brunette immediately softens.

Wednesday hums in thought, lets her eyes trace every feature of Enid’s as she looks back to her
beneath her dark hair.

“I don't think I have articulated myself very well.” She says blankly, and Enid tilts her head with a
pretty, scrunched up look of confusion. Wednesday elaborates as she parts her lips.

“On the contrary, I am very attracted to you.” She says, deadpan and truthful. Enid makes this tiny
noise in the back of her throat like she was choking on air as her cheeks colour. “I find you
intelligent and strong. Alluring. Like one would find a car crash impossible to look away from.”

Enid is blinking back to her in awe, the freckles across her nose and cheeks are a deep rouge that
Wednesday finds herself glued to. The brunette opts to stare only at that, because her heart is
fluttering dangerously inside of her ribcage at being so bare.

Yes, she’s evolving, but it is a terrifyingly shocking notion when you feel it actually happening.

“I think I would be doing your emotions a disservice, Enid, if I didn’t tell you I can’t be with you
like...” Her dark eyes flicker to the movie rolling the end of the heated scene, then back to the tip
of Enid’s nose. “That.”

Enid melts into an understanding smile, and Wednesday is finding it increasingly easy to talk to
her; to know whatever she chooses to share with the werewolf will be met with nothing but open
ears and a warm smile. She isn’t throwing it away, Enid is holding this part of Wednesday
delicately and kindly.

“That’s okay,” She says gently, shrugging a little and shifting her body to be closer to Wednesday.
The brunette lets herself be jostled, likes that when their knees knock together it feels comfortable
and easy.

“I’m happy to be with you any way you want, Wednesday.” She says, and it feels like the moon
just pulled the tides of Wednesday’s lower belly.

“If that means we only kiss, or even just hold hands and hug, then I’m all for it! You’re still my
girlfriend, that’ll never change.”
Enid smiles, does this little solidifying nod after her sentence, and Wednesday just stares back at
her with melting pools of brown. She isn’t smiling, her face is stoic, but the blonde is fluent in
Wednesday idiosyncrasies and knows the way her eyes are sheening and glassy means her words
hit her directly in the heart, and that she’s endlessly thankful for how Enid loves her.

“Oh!” The blonde excitedly exclaims, making Wednesday blink at her outburst. “I find you very
attractive, too.” Enid teases, grinning shyly; her own words have her blushing.

The brunette hums, tilting her head for the other girl to elaborate. She has never cared for others'
opinions, never thought twice about her own appearance other than the colours she dons herself in.
But she is desperate to know Enid’s, curious to know what angle of her face she likes the most.

Almost not expecting to be put on the spot, Enid shyly elaborates, playing with Wednesday’s black
and sharp nails. Wednesday looks to the touch and finds this one to be at the top of the list of what
she’s okay with.

“I find you hauntingly beautiful. Enchanting , kinda like...” Enid drags the word out, furrowing
her brows in thought as she searches for a parallel her girlfriend would understand.

Oh, Girlfriend! Girlfriend! The reminder has Enid brightening, so much so Wednesday swears she
sees a little lightbulb blink to life above her head, or Enid’s metaphoric werewolf tail wagging in
joy.

“Like open heart surgery!” She burst out, giggling when Wednesday widens her eyes from all the
emotion that suddenly floods her at the words, how much desire for Enid takes over.

“When I look at you,” Enid continues, even though the imagery she is conjuring up is making her a
little ill. “I feel like I’m watching myself with my chest open, and you’re poking at my heart. But
like, really really softly.” Enid says, grinning as she winks. “Loving pokes, I think.”

Wednesday’s lips part ever so slightly. Behind her dark hair her eyes flick to Enid’s nose then to
her cool, blue eyes, and she’s suddenly hyper aware of how much she should not take advantage of
Enid’s love. Usually, she wouldn’t care, wouldn’t bat an eye at taking what would benefit her in
the long run. Tyler, Xavier, Bianca, even Eugene. But she thinks of being a vampire or suffering
endlessly if it meant her girlfriend was happy and knows with zero doubts, when it comes to Enid,
there would be no hesitation in putting the other girl’s needs before her own. Like Enid has just
done for her.

“I am intolerable,” Wednesday says, with an air of realisation, chocolate eyes dilated with desire.
Enid across from her tilts her head. “And yet, you...” Wednesday shakes her head imperceptibly,
bewildered at the fact she’s about to utter. “You tolerate me. You love me.”

Enid blushes, smiling and looking her lap bashfully. “Yeah,” Enid sways their hands a bit, biting
her lip. “I do. And I wouldn’t call it tolerating,” She teasingly says. “More like...loving despite
flaws.”

Wednesday hums in agreement. Yes, loving despite flaws, because she loves Enid despite her
nauseating colours and taste in music and sunny disposition. But she loves her because of Enid’s
bravery and intellect and pension for protecting the people she cares about, filled with fire and
brimstone and blood.

Then Enid is holding tighter to her hands and Wednesday looks down to them, then back up with a
confused look thrown her girlfriend’s way at her brightening disposition.
 “Okay, my turn!” She says brightly, clicking to Thing on the floor and bouncing in her seat as a
reanimated hand somehow perfectly communicates to Enid without saying any words.

“You said after the movie, if I get through it, I picked our next activity.” The blonde says, leaning
a little closer and biting her lip in barely hidden giddiness. Wednesday moves her gaze to the tv,
realises the end scene is playing, and hums.

“Yes.” Wednesday easily agrees, never a person to go back on her word. But she panics a little
when Enid’s eyes sparkle in excitement.

“Yay!” She exclaims, immediately reaching out and grabbing the pale pink and blue nail polishes
Thing scurries over. Wednesday freezes, her bottom eyelid twitches in contempt.

Then Enid holds them up, smiling with her teeth. “Which colour?”

Wednesday looks to her girlfriend, back to the nail polishes, and thinks of loving despite flaws.
Thinks of Enid, without a second thought and no hesitation, accepting who she is. Thinks of pig's
hearts and bees and Enid in a suit amongst the insects for her, even when back then, they barely
knew the others heart.

“Pink.” Wednesday answers, choking around the word like she swallowed cotton candy.

And maybe it’s all worth it, maybe understanding your girlfriend’s interests despite the flaws and
being there for her after she just sat through an hour of gore, means wearing bubble gum pink nail
polish for the holidays. Maybe it’s worth it for the absolute pure euphoria that crosses Enid’s face
in the moments after Wednesday grits the word out.

It could be, that the visions won’t ever go, and Wednesday finds, suddenly desperate, that she
doesn’t want them to. She wants to be able to protect Enid in any way she can, every single day, in
any motion a mortal body is allowed to.

Maybe this little permanent fixture of the blinding light that is Enid Sinclair, now in Wednesday’s
mind amongst the premonitions of gore and death and world ending artefacts, is exactly what her
mother was trying to tell her. Our psychic ability resides on the spectrum of who we are.

Maybe Ravens and Dove’s aren’t as different as Wednesday thought.

Maybe darkness, every once and a while, needs a little light.

Chapter End Notes

this is certainly not the last ill write them, (wenclair and jenna ortega brain rot is real)
 but for now thats it for this fic! thank u so much for all ur genuinely sweet comments,
this fandom is super nice and cosy fr <3 hope you enjoyed! until next time x

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