Toji stood near the sofa, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the still-warm mug. His gaze was calm, unreadable — yet the silence between them was anything but.
Enid shifted from one foot to another, trying to look casual. "You know," she said, "you're a lot quieter in the morning. Almost human."
He took a sip, eyes flicking toward her. "You make it sound like I'm usually not."
She smiled faintly. "Well, you do have that mysterious, emotionally unavailable, could-kill-a-man-with-a-spoon vibe."
Toji smirked. "Could? You sound doubtful."
Enid blinked, half-flustered, half-amused. "I—well, I meant it as a compliment."
"Sure you did," he said, walking past her toward the small table where breakfast had been left. The smell of fresh coffee and toasted bread lingered in the air. "Sit. Eat something before you start flattering me to death."
She rolled her eyes but followed, sitting opposite him. For a while, they just ate in silence — though Enid couldn't stop glancing at him. The way he moved, calm but deliberate, the quiet confidence in every gesture. It was infuriating and magnetic all at once.
Toji finally looked up, catching her stare. "You're staring again, Enid."
She froze, cheeks coloring. "No I wasn't— I was just… thinking."
"About?" he asked, leaning slightly forward, tone teasing but quiet.
"You," she said before realizing it, then quickly added, "—I mean, about what happened yesterday."
Toji let the pause stretch, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You're terrible at lying."
Enid gave a nervous laugh, rubbing her arm. "Maybe I just don't see the point in lying to someone who reads people like an open book."
For a moment, Toji said nothing. His eyes softened — barely. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened behind them.
Wednesday stood there.
Her expression unreadable. Her dark eyes flicking between the two of them — Toji leaning back in his chair, Enid sitting closer than she probably should've been.
The air in the room shifted. Quiet tension. A storm waiting to happen.
Toji didn't move, didn't speak. Just calmly set down his mug and looked straight at Wednesday, that faint smirk back on his face.
"Morning, bride," he said evenly.
And for a second — just one second — Wednesday Addams blinked, the faintest twitch in her jaw betraying that something inside her had shifted.
Wednesday stepped further into the room, her boots clicking against the cold floor. The faint sunlight coming through the window caught the edge of her braid, painting it in thin silver. Her gaze, sharp as a scalpel, swept from Toji to Enid — lingering just long enough to draw blood without a single word.
"Toji," she said, voice as calm as ice under pressure. "I see you've found a new morning ritual."
Enid flinched, unsure if she should speak or run. "Uh—it's not what it looks like," she said quickly, her tone defensive, eyes darting between them.
Toji didn't even look at her. He leaned back in his chair, resting one arm lazily along the backrest, the picture of control. "And what does it look like to you, Wednesday?"
Wednesday's eyes narrowed, studying him the way she might study an artifact before dissecting it. "Like you're wasting time."
"To you, everything's a waste unless it bleeds or breaks," Toji replied, his tone quiet but sharp. "You should try Social interaction sometimes. It Builds patience."
For the first time, Enid saw it — the unspoken tension between them. Not hatred, not even rivalry. Something more dangerous. A familiarity that shouldn't exist yet did.
Wednesday crossed her arms. "Patience implies you're waiting for something. Are you?"
Toji's lips curved into that infuriating half-smile. "Maybe."
"Or someone?"
He didn't answer. His silence said more than words ever could.
Enid, caught in the middle of something she didn't fully understand, stood up abruptly. "I—I think I should go. My class starts soon."
Neither of them moved.
She hesitated at the door, looking back once — Toji's unreadable expression, Wednesday's steady glare — and quietly slipped out.
The door closed behind her. The sound echoed.
Now it was just the two of them.
Wednesday took a single step forward, the air tightening around them. "You're getting comfortable here," she said, her tone low, measured. "Almost too comfortable."
Toji looked up at her, calm as ever. "Maybe that's what happens when you stop seeing danger in everything."
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And yet, you are danger."
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Only the quiet hum of the morning lingered between them — a silent challenge.
Toji finally stood, closing the distance until only a breath separated them. "You sound like you're warning me," he said.
Wednesday didn't move. "Maybe I am."
He smiled faintly. "Then you should've warned me sooner."
Her eyes flickered — not fear, not anger, just awareness. A brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Wednesday stepped back, fixing her collar. "Don't be late for class," she said, tone back to clinical calm.
Toji watched her leave — unbothered, unreadable — and when the door clicked shut, he let out a quiet chuckle.
"Cold as ever," he murmured, finishing his coffee.
Then, softer — as if to himself — "But she'll thaw eventually."
---
Do you want me to add other strong character/Villans like a Wendigo
Yes
No
Do you guys like or want harem
Yes
No
This ultimately rest upon my shoulder if l want a harem or not but l would still like your opinions