Chapter Text
Wednesday’s head spun at the words on the page. Why can’t we be like that?
She could hear the sadness in Enid’s voice as the words replayed in her head even though it was simply a letter from her beloved. Behind the locked door of her room, darkness brought by the curtains, she doesn’t need to mask the uncontrollable emotions that she will surely go to hell for. Wednesday looks forward to it more and more every day with Enid. If there’s anyone she could tolerate dragging to hell with her, it would be Enid herself and nobody else in this lifetime or beyond.
Closing her eyes, Wednesday lets herself imagine through the images that she had raced to the library to find on Nevermore the moment Enid had told her in a letter that she was going there and the words written on the page clutched in her hand.
Skipping through the halls, Enid doesn’t falter a single step. Neither does her smile. It is inside that her heart bends over its back trying to avoid the arrows attempting to make it bleed. Couple after couple were in the halls, the knowledge courtesy to her adamant attempt at keeping her title of gossip queen with her blog.
Part of her kept it up specifically so that she could tell Wednesday about it in her letters. It was part of their exchanges for Wednesday to make fun of her use of writing for social media.
Today wasn’t a special day by any means. It was yet another day. Another day without Wednesday. To be fair, Enid hadn’t seen her girlfriend in years now. Something that had burgeoned as a young puppy love had become something so much deeper through distance, as if the distance and the pain had gouged a larger place in each of their hearts for each other. It certainly hadn’t been love at first sight like Wednesday described her parent’s love story.
Still, some days Enid missed Wednesday more than others. Some days she let herself wonder if they weren’t outcasts, they would’ve been able to be the ones holding hands down the halls, walking each other to class.
Wondering further, Enid thought, would Wednesday have been the chivalrous type?
The answer was most definitely. Wednesday yearned to offer to carry Enid’s books and open the doors so that Enid would give her that knowing smirk once again that annoyed Wednesday so badly she wanted to die (more than usual).
Eyes snapping open, Wednesday knew she had to do something. There was no way she would let Enid continue to suffer this pain. The idea that she was feeling hurt that was related to Wednesday made Wednesday want to fall to her knees, which simply could not happen. Wednesday still had graves to dig, and a body count to add to.
More than that, even if Wednesday wouldn’t admit it, Enid’s suffering sat wrong with Wednesday. It was more than uncomfortable,
Tracing the letters and the grooves they left in the paper from the pressure of Enid’s letters, Wednesday pondered how. For a moment, Wednesday considered that perhaps letting go would be the best course of action. That way Enid could find somebody close to her that could hold her hand through the halls of Nevermore. The idea was quickly dispelled from her head however. Wednesday would give up murdering and maiming before she gave up on what she had with Enid. Addamses did not give up so easily.
No, if she could not give what Enid needed from here, she would simply have to find a way to get to Enid.
Don’t get it wrong, Wednesday was under no delusion that they would have to be any less secretive if she was near Enid. There was a very good reason why they had kept it a secret in the first place, and a secret it would remain until it was safe to reveal, or to their deaths.
However, just the idea of being in the menacingly glorious presence of Enid would darken (because who likes brightening? Certainly not wednesday) Wednesday’s days considerably.
Carefully folding the letter back into its envelope, Wednesday walked over to a worn spot in the dark floorboards near her bed. Kneeling down, she pulls back the floorboard to reveal a niche in the floor, filled with envelopes, from worn and faded and yellow to bright new and pink. Slipping the newest one towards the newer end, Wednesday let her eyes roam over the letters, years of love and like and feelings flitting through Wednesday as she recalled the content of each and every letter with her superior memory.
Her moment is interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Slamming the floorboard back into the place, Wednesday barely has time to stand up and step out of the way as a knife goes whistling past her.
“Aww darn it. I thought I’d get you for sure this time”, Pugsley said with a frown.
“Never”, Wednesday replied surely before imperceptibly pulling out of a knife of her own, flicking it towards him so fast that no human eye could follow. Pugsley however, is an Addams, so he simply jumps out of the way with a grin.
“What do you want?” Wednesday demands gruffly.
“It’s dinner time.”
Nodding, Wednesday simply follows, head and heart too full of all the words that she wished to tell Enid, wondering if her words would even be enough to soothe Enid meanwhile. The truth was, if Wednesday didn’t do something soon, she was afraid she would lose Enid to somebody else closer, more available. The thought that Wednesday refused to acknowledge, the action that she knew would happen if Enid were to do so, was that Wednesday would simply let her if that became the situation, because Wednesday Addams was unlike her parents. If another made Enid happier, Wednesday would take over the incorrigible world to drag that person into Enid’s arms. Although, if anybody asked Wednesday, if Wednesday was to ask herself, she would still lie and say that she would murder anybody who dared to try to take her Enid away.
It was exactly what she was thinking about when she walked through the detestable halls of the intolerable public school she and Pugsley attended. Wednesday herself did not envy the overly affectionate teenagers in the hallways, but she could still hear Enid’s voice in her ear as if she was a ghost hovering over Wednesday’s shoulder. Why can’t we be like that?
In all honesty, it was what she was thinking about when she released Pugsley from his locker prison. However when her head snapped back in the vivid vision of the assault on Pugsley, Wednesday felt her heart pick up. Not only did it make her blood boil that somebody dared to hurt her brother besides her, it also meant she suddenly had the perfect excuse to get out of this rotten excuse of a school to Nevermore. It was a shining black ticket right within Wednesday’s grasp.
With manic glee, Wednesday retrieved the piranhas from her family property.
-0-
Cluelessly, in Nevermore, Enid clutches Wednesday’s latest letter to her chest as she lays down in bed that night. She inhales strongly, taking in a whiff of the paper that always smelled slightly like Wednesday. Not enough. Never enough, but it was just the hint of Wednesday Enid needed to cling onto the enigma that Wednesday had become over the years of their very long distance and secretive relationship.
If it weren’t for these letters, Enid could convince herself that she had made up the entire relationship in her head.
They are the only thing that Enid has of Wednesday, so she treasures them more than anything else. Letters weren’t really Enid’s thing. Texting was much easier than writing, and after a while of writing, Enid’s hand started to hurt and she had to focus harder to make sure her hand writing was presentable and readable. At the same time, Enid continues to write these letters without a single complaint, because she knows it is Wednesday’s preferred method of communication. Enid would never force Wednesday to get a phone if she didn’t want to touch electronics like that. Enid wasn’t sure if she could imagine Wednesday holding a phone and using it anyway.
Being honest, Enid suffered in their relationship more than she smiled. Some nights like these, she found herself crying, sniffling in her bed. She wondered if Wednesday would stand far away and cock her head in confusion at her tears if she could see the mess Enid was. “What are you doing, cara mia?” she would ask. Enid could see it perfectly as if Wednesday was really there. Even the idea of that was comforting, because Wednesday didn’t ask for people’s wellbeing, and she would certainly never step forward to brush the tears off Enid’s face. That just wasn’t Wednesday. Despite that, Enid had fallen for her. Sometimes Enid wondered if her affinity for physical affection was borne of the lack thereof in her romantic life.
Unfortunately, Enid wasn’t insane just yet. She knew this wasn’t reality and Wednesday would never stand in her dorm room, never be able to criticize all the color. Boy, Wednesday would have a field day with it given the chance.
So, with nobody to ask her why she was crying and give even a poor attempt at comfort, Enid wiped away her own tears like she did every single time. This was her fate, for falling for an Addams, the type of person she should never have fallen for, Enid supposed.
What she would give for Wednesday to appear tomorrow in front of her, Enid thought, completely unaware of what was happening in Wednesday’s part of the world.