Chapter 4Summary:Enid and Wednesday go into town.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextA downpour starts the moment Enid flings herself into the dorm. Upon entry, she doesn't notice Wednesday sitting at her desk, now dressed appropriately yet comfortably for the weather. A black coat is draped over the back of her desk chair, and her umbrella rests against the wall, next to her backpack.
"Oh, you're ready to go," Enid says, a bit exasperated and winded from her venture up the winding staircases at an unreasonable speed. She doesn't want to make it obvious that she is absolutely eager to see Wednesday again, but the way her body warms several degrees is quite telling. "I know I'm running late. But…I also said we would go if the rain stops."
Wednesday quickly spins around in her chair, shoving something into her pants pocket. She stands up and nonchalantly brushes invisible dirt off her clothes, reaching for her backpack.
"I have an umbrella," she tells Enid, nodding at their window. "I don't forecast something this heavy to stop anytime soon. Not during daylight, anyway. There is something I'd like to do in town today while the vermin of the world are preoccupied with their dead-end nine-to-fives and public school prisons. Attempting to visit town on a weekend is something out of a nightmare, and not the good kind. If you don't want to accompany me, I won't be offended by it. I understand."
It almost sounds like she's guilting Enid into feeling obligated to attend this outing with her, but Enid is only happy to oblige. Enid smiles at her and watches as Wednesday's eyes grow somewhat hopeful with anticipation.
"I'll get my raincoat," she says to Wednesday, already opening her closet and pushing aside her casual clothes. She rarely ever has an opportunity to wear her pastel pink raincoat that her dad gave her, with being trapped indoors most of the day, so it's quite exciting for her. "I know, I know. It's pink and gross and blah blah blah."
She shrugs it on, relieved that it still fits like a glove even after her first shifting, and twirls in a full circle. Wednesday observes with a twinge of disgust yet endearment in her eyes, taking notice of the way the color of the jacket matches the streaks in Enid's hair.
"What, you're not gonna complain about how ugly it is?" Enid asks her, shoving her hands in the pockets. "Look! The pockets have hearts on them."
"It's absolutely hideous and makes me want to stab my eyes out with a hunting knife," Wednesday blandly comments, still focused on the cinched waistband that hugs Enid just right. "Perhaps I've just had a stroke."
"Aw, thank you." Enid only pretends to be flattered by it, even if hearing such things from Wednesday could hardly be considered a genuine compliment if it were directed at anyone else. It's directed at her, though, and she would be lying if she said she didn't thoroughly enjoy it. "Is Thing gonna come with us?"
Wednesday glances at the desk drawer where Thing likes to retire for his midday naps. "He's being quite dramatic this morning. The weather has given him a head cold. While you were finishing breakfast, he fainted like a damsel in distress and had me move him to his drawer to recover. I knew he was faking it when I flicked his infected cuticle and he screamed in agony. If anything, it's only malaise brought on by the weather. He's exaggerating it for the attention. Don't give it to him."
"He doesn't even have a head to get cold," Enid giggles. "I guess it's just us today."
"Don't sound so excited," Wednesday remarks with a faint sliver of a smirk as she slings her backpack onto her back. "I know the anticipation of spending such a miserable day with me is killing you."
Before Wednesday can take off without her, which is something that Enid often worries about with someone as fleeting as Wednesday, Enid takes off her sneakers and puts on her yellow rubber rain boots, keeping a watchful eye on her roommate.
"Yoko is kinda caught up with Divina right now," she informs Wednesday, standing up and zipping up her coat to her throat. "Divina caught salmonella and is profusely projectile-ing like the girl from The Exorcist. It's also coming out the opposite end."
"Those were details I could have spent my entire life without knowing," Wednesday says with blatant disgust, turning up her nose like she smelled something vile. "Do your friends know how to keep intimate details to themselves?"
"Well, I had to hear it, and you love to be miserable, so I decided to share." Enid raises her hood over her head. "We're roomies. We share everything."
"Sharing time is now over," Wednesday says, grabbing her umbrella and tucking is safely under her arm. "I suppose we will be walking to town. The shuttles aren't running today. I paid the bus driver a visit on my way upstairs. He has also been subjected to the trust building exercises Crowley has implemented during in-service days."
"In that case…" Enid twirls around again, plucking a fresh Redbull from a case hidden under her bed. "I'm gonna need one of these."
"Your heart is going to explode one day," Wednesday chides, halfway pleased by the sentiment. "You might as well drink cyanide. I have some in my trunk, if you'd like to try."
"Maybe later," Enid says with a playful wink. She skips to the door and holds it open, nodding at Wednesday, who stands oddly still. "Come on. Weird things first, always."
Wednesday's blink is slow and full of purpose. She frowns and tightens her grip around her backpack straps. Her shoulders relax with a soft sigh as she suddenly perks up.
"Well, we can't both be first, Enid."
She glides over the threshold with the gait of a curious black cat, prompting Enid to stare at the back of her head in confusion.
"She's being sweet to me again," Enid giggles to herself, quietly leaving the room and following Wednesday down the stairs, Redbull in hand.
—
Halfway into town, Enid leaves the comfortable shelter of Wednesday's large umbrella to toss her empty can into a recycling bin. The rain has tapered off into a slow drizzle, leaving little reason for the umbrella, but Wednesday keeps it open and over her head, just in case the clouds start to pour again.
"Oh, a puddle!" Enid exclaims, running down the sidewalk and stomping into a large collection of rainwater that's pooled on the side of the empty road. "I haven't done this since I was little!"
Wednesday observes her with curious eyes, watching as Enid sloshes rainwater over her boots and soaks her leggings. She keeps a mindful eye out for oncoming traffic, pleased to find that the street is quiet and practically a ghost town. She thinks she could become acclimated to going into town if every day were as miserable as this.
Enid has a certain glow about her like this. She's in her element, jumping up and down in a muddy puddle, completely inattentive to the way passersby glance sideways at her with questioning eyes. She doesn't pay them any mind, nor does she seem to take notice of them much, and Wednesday finds herself envious of that characteristic of Enid's. Wednesday has always admired that quality Enid possesses; it's entirely too innocent for her taste, but it's Enid's truth, and Wednesday has to be honest with herself when she commends Enid for such things. Enid doesn't concern herself with the opinions of others, even the ones she receives in the form of hate comments, and to Wednesday, that's simply breathtakingly beautiful.
"Enid," Wednesday calls out to her when she hears an engine round the corner. "Move out of the street."
Suddenly it's all too reminiscent of the day Mayor Walker was violently hit by a car in the middle of the street and Wednesday could do nothing but watch and hope that no one would tie her presence to the scene of the crime.
Her entire body seizes, her fingers curling around the handle of her umbrella with force tight enough to crack her knuckles. She reaches out and plucks Enid off the street by the hood of her coat like a mama cat would grab her baby by the scruff, sending Enid stumbling over the curb.
"Hey!" Enid shrieks at her, yanking away from her touch even if her instinct is to lean into it with all she has. "Wednesday! What's wrong? Why'd you do that?"
"You have no spatial awareness, Enid," Wednesday huffs at her. "You could have been hit by the car."
"What car?" Enid asks, perplexed as she nods towards the street. "I don't see any cars. It's just us here."
Wednesday stares at the red and green glows of the traffic lights illuminating the slick roads. They shift from green, to yellow, to red in anticipation of traffic, but nothing is there. Even the pedestrians have left, leaving the street a vacant ghost town in the middle of the day, with only the shops standing still as mausoleums and the lights buzzing.
"It's nothing," Wednesday eventually tells her, feeling absolutely foolish for her actions. "Let's continue our walk."
She starts walking again, paying little interest to Enid when she doesn't immediately follow her. Soon Enid's footsteps catch up to her, clopping around in those ridiculously obnoxious boots.
Enid doesn't push the issue or ask Wednesday what the hell happened to her just then, instead electing to press herself against Wednesday's side with a grin that could melt even a serial killer's heart. Some days, Wednesday wonders if Tyler's murderous tendencies could be remedied by the smile of Enid Sinclair, but she would never put Enid in a position to find out.
"I have to post a new video once we sit down somewhere," says Enid. "I also have comments to reply to. I hope you don't mind."
"I haven't minded this entire time, have I?" Wednesday asks as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to tell them to cross. "Where are you wanting to go?"
"I know how you feel about the Weathervane," Enid says with careful consideration, watching the way Wednesday's stoic expression only tightens at the comment. "I was just thinking we try something new. We can go to the bakery. They serve coffee. Probably not as many options, but still…unless you wanna do something else. It's your birthday; you choose."
"My birthday isn't until Friday," Wednesday reminds with a soft exhale. "More than that, I'm not entirely particular about what endeavors we encounter this afternoon. My plans to defeat Bianca under my sword have been foiled. I'd been looking forward to our rematch. She had such a conceited look about her when she realized she had sliced open my forehead. Again. I have to admit that I was encouraged by that smug look of hers. She infuriates me."
The signal switches, giving them the sign to cross the street. Enid almost slips her hand into Wednesday's free one but quickly pulls herself together as they walk to the other side of the street.
"I thought you two were becoming friends or whatever," Enid tells Wednesday, giving her a sideways glance as she tucks herself further against Wednesday.
"Friends is quite an exaggerated word to use," Wednesday mutters. "We have yet to establish a relationship in the way you and I have. I'm not interested in befriending her. It would seem as though I'm befriending her only because of her alliance to me the night of the incident. I don't loathe her or wish her harm, but I'm also not accompanying her on shopping sprees or other activities that make my intestines burn with rage. I know how to keep things cordial but fair. I'm completely impartial to her as a person. I would never allow something like her kindness to ruin the strained relationship between us. It would be an entire waste of misery."
Enid perks up at that, a smile spreading across her face. The mere thought that she and Wednesday have an established relationship of sorts is enough to send her brain into orbit.
"You just called us friends," she squeals, clenching her fists with excitement. She hops over a small puddle on the sidewalk before ducking under the safety of Wednesday's umbrella. "That's the first time you admitted to us being friends."
The morose expression on Wednesday's face softens the slightest bit. Enid notices the way her jaw visibly relaxes and her grip on the umbrella loosens just a bit.
"I assumed you knew as much already," she says to Enid, trying not to look her in the face. "I'd like to mention that I do not often allow anyone—even the family I was born into—touch me. Although I was quite ashamed of myself for collapsing under the emotional strain of nearly being mauled to death by a glorified alien, I didn't shove you away that night. I was more concerned with not staining your clothes with blood than I was with a hundred eyes bearing witness to my fortitude."
Progress is still progress, Enid thinks.
They rarely discuss what happened the night that Laurel attacked the campus, the night that Weems succumbed to nightshade poisoning, the night that had Wednesday welcoming a warm and safe embrace from the roommate she had sworn to despise until she was one with the earth. Enid almost never mentions it, and Wednesday chooses to forget.
"I could say that you're giving me special treatment," says Enid, teasing Wednesday with a high pitch in her voice. "You would never go shopping with anyone else. But for me, with me, you're totally okay with it."
"Baseless assumptions," Wednesday grumbles, trying not to roll her eyes. "I've never said I'm okay with any of this. I can simply tolerate it—and you—for an extended period of time. It's taken practice and many days of reminding myself that I cannot kill you, but I think I've gotten quite good at it."
"You're not complaining."
It's true; Wednesday isn't complaining about spending the day alongside someone like Enid, but she's also not making aggrandizing gestures towards her that would give Enid the impression that she's enjoying herself. She keeps her opinions private and doesn't make it obvious that there are many other things that are more painful than this.
"I'm not complaining, but do not push your luck, Enid," she threatens, and adjusts her umbrella over her shoulder. "This is unusual for me. I'm not used to spending a day in town with anyone. I only come here for my investigations, and even then, I try to keep myself as conspicuous as possible."
"Well, it's almost your birthday, and you deserve something special," Enid says, stepping on a crack and kicking a stone across the road. "You like bread. Sad beige bread. Let's go to the bakery for a snack. And then we can go to that creepy shop you liked. And maybe after that, we can go—"
"Enid, please. Take a breath before you pass out. I cannot drag your lifeless body to a shallow grave without the townspeople interfering and having me arrested, and I left my smelling salts in the dorm," Wednesday quips at her. "As much as I enjoy an itinerary, perhaps we should allow the day to unfold as it happens. My schedule is already ruined, thanks to that callous man."
Enid nods at her, still halfway over the moon that Wednesday is even here with her. It almost feels unreal, like she's having another one of her elaborate dreams about Wednesday. She thinks she's been here before, but only in her sleep. It's the first time that her daydreams have come to fruition before her eyes, and she doesn't have to pinch herself to wake up.
The bakery sits at the end of the street. It's a dreamscape of a building, like something built and painted for an animation. It's the only pink structure in Jericho, sticking out like a pastel pink sore thumb among all the others. The windows are trimmed in white and the chalkboard that is posted up just outside the door is also covered in pink chalk.
Wednesday has to squint to look at it. Her lip curls up in disgust. "It's…hideous. It's pink."
"It is pink," Enid concurs with a nod. She opens the door, giggling at the bell that rings above her head. "Weird things first."
"We can't both be first, Enid."
She huffs a little, but nevertheless, she steps into the building after collapsing her umbrella. She sticks it into the umbrella stand that's tucked in the corner of the room, suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of baked goods and pies cooling on the counter.
Enid notices the way that Wednesday hovers over the threshold and tries to inch herself out of the shop. She reaches a subtle pinkie out to Wednesday, carefully yet masterfully linking it with a cold one that intuitively grasps onto her own with purchase. It wasn't expected—if anything, Enid entirely anticipated Wednesday slapping her hand away—but she isn't going to complain about how icy the skin is around her natural werewolf warmth.
Like she's dispelling a bad dream, Wednesday shakes her head and blinks a few times more than necessary before slipping her hand from Enid's. She looks at Enid with the expression of a black cat rudely awakened from a midday nap.
"I smell coffee," Enid tells her, hoping Wednesday makes no effort to scold her. "What do you want? Anything you want. It's your—"
"Birthday," Wednesday begrudgingly completes. "I don't suppose they have an espresso machine. I guess I'll have to settle for a coffee as black as my soul."
"I don't think that's possible," Enid giggles, approaching the counter with Wednesday awkwardly shuffling at her side. She smiles at the young woman standing behind the counter. "Hi!"
As she does anytime Enid encounters a new normie outside of Nevermore, Wednesday observes the woman's mannerisms. She's tall, but not too tall, and has colorful streaks in her hair that mirror Enid's, only much longer and pronounced, and she has too many piercings for Wednesday to accurately count without making her staring obvious. Wednesday gives her an inward stamp of approval when she doesn't immediately scowl at Enid like she's the vermin of the world.
"Hi there. What can I get for ya?"
Enid tries not to giggle. She's never heard such a rich southern accent so far up north before now. It almost sounds fake.
"Wednesday, what do you want? You go first," Enid insists, nudging her with her shoulder.
"A small coffee, the boldest brew you have. Black. Absolutely no sugar or creamer," Wednesday says. She has to get up on her tiptoes just to see the menu from where she stands. "One croissant. Plain."
"Of course," says the young woman, looking to Enid. "And you?"
Enid ponders a moment, eyeing the chalkboard menu. "Ooh! A slice of red velvet cake!"
"Coming right up. For here or to go?"
Enid and Wednesday share a glance. Wednesday sucks in a breath at the pitiful look in Enid's eyes.
"Here, I suppose."
While the woman is pouring Wednesday's coffee into a gaudy pink mug that looks like it was made in a high school pottery class, Wednesday rummages through her pockets for the spare change she had shoved in there the last time she wore these pants.
"What're you doing?" Enid asks, and when Wednesday looks up with crumpled bills in her hand, Enid already has laid her student debit card on the counter.
"Paying," Wednesday replies. "Otherwise it's theft, and that's apparently frowned upon."
"But it's your birthday!" Enid exclaims. "Put that crusty money away."
"No." Wednesday stubbornly shoves Enid's card towards her and fills the empty spot with her twenty dollar bill. "I will pay."
"No, I will pay," Enid huffs, flicking the money away and sliding her card towards the woman, who sets the mug and croissant on the counter. She bats her eyelashes at the woman. "I'm paying for us both."
"No, I am." Wednesday urges the money towards the cashier, intentionally glaring at her with demand. "Take it."
"I said, I'm paying." Enid practically foams at the mouth, trying again to hand over her card. "Just let me pay."
The woman shakes her head at Enid. "I'm sorry, but we don't take cards. Just cash or check." She points to a sign that boldly reads "CASH OR CHECK ONLY."
Satisfied, Wednesday slides the cash over and watches as Enid visibly deflates like a balloon.
While Wednesday is being handed her change, Enid picks up her plate of red velvet cake. "You're such a brat, Wednesday."
The shop is mostly empty, except for someone working on a laptop in the corner of the room. They find a quiet table for two on the opposite end of the place, and sit across from each other without exchanging words or arguing over who gets to sit by the window. Wednesday automatically claims that seat so she can watch the rain fog the glass.
Enid doesn't even bite into her cake before she's holding her phone in her hands and rushing to open the TikTok app to check her newest engagement. She knows that Wednesday is watching her over the rim of her mug, but she doesn't comment on it or tell her to take a picture so it'll last longer.
She surveys her comments, deleting a few that are clearly bots, liking some others commenting on how clean her knitting skills are, replies to someone asking her where she got her sweater.
Willa hasn't responded to Enid's last message to her this morning, and to be honest, Enid hasn't thought of her since breakfast, too busy having fun with Wednesday. Despite the fact that a stranger on the internet, who could only be pretending to be a young girl, shouldn't matter much, the initial guilt begins to sink in, and so she goes to her direct messages, hoping Willa didn't block her.
She decides to send her another message, just to apologize for how crass she might have sounded.
Hey. I'm sorry I snapped. I was rude
The message goes through, and she sighs with relief. Then, she feels Wednesday jerk from across the table, and when she looks up with sudden alarm, Wednesday is staring at her with wide eyes and a bite of croissant stuffed in one cheek.
"You look like a chipmunk," Enid giggles.
Wednesday struggles to swallow the bite. She pushes her chair out and stands up, barely catching herself on the edge of the table.
"I need to use the restroom," she curtly tells Enid. "The coffee."
Enid doesn't wait for an elaboration, nor does she want one. She nods and waves in the direction of the public restrooms, which are labeled in baby pink letters hanging above an alcove where they're hidden from the rest of the shop.
With Wednesday's bread and coffee growing stale on the table and the air growing quiet, Enid sinks further into her seat after taking a few tentative bites of her cake. She works on editing a new video and films very succinct footage of the bakery.
In the middle of taking photos of her half-eaten cake to post on Instagram, she receives a new DM from Willa. It comes as a surprise, given how rude and impolite Enid felt once she realized how callous and needlessly possessive her last statement might've appeared to Willa.
You seemed to be a bit protective over your roommate. I didn't find it rude. In fact, I thought it was quite admirable.
Enid sighs, glancing up to make sure Wednesday hasn't emerged from the restroom yet.
Yeah but still
I was rude
I shouldn't have acted like I own her or smth
I swear I'm not like that
Seen
I believe you.
I was not trying to imply that I wanted you to expose her online for my own pleasure. I was only commenting on the fact that she seems to be an interesting character. I can assure you that I don't mean any harm by it.
I know I'm sorry I snapped
I can't claim her like property
It's wrong and totally not feminist
Seen
Understandable.
I was a little worried when u didn't reply
I thought maybe u thought I was really mean
Seen
No. I was taking care of some schoolwork I had to do.
I try to limit my time online. Too much time on the internet rots the brain.
My roomie says the same thing
She truly believes that if u spend more than an hour online a day u will become stupider
Seen
Smart. I have a theory that children who are heavily attached to screens are delayed because they receive no social stimulation. I was raised without screens, and I'd say I'm more functioning than others my age.
Yea the iPad kids are gonna grow up malfunctioning
But I was raised with TV and computers and I'm normal 🤷♀️
Wednesday didn't really watch TV, or so she says
Idk I just think that's hard to believe
She is also socially awkward and doesn't understand ppl so ig maybe it doesn't have anything to do with TV and it's just the tism she was born with
I wouldn't know what to say if she brought it up bc she never talks about it. Idk if she even knows what it is tbh
Seen
The…tism?
You know. Autism?
U would see it if u knew her
It's not caused by screens tho
Maybe she's born with it maybe it's autism 💁♀️
Seen
Suddenly Wednesday rounds the corner, the plight on her face extremely palpable. She slides back into her seat and picks up her croissant.
"About time," Enid says, putting her phone away. "I thought you fell in the toilet."
"I'd have a better time if I did," Wednesday mutters. She relaxes her shoulders, glancing up at Enid. "Enid, I have an inquiry for you, and I'd like you to answer honestly."
Enid nods, even if she's hesitant. "Sure. What is it?"
"In your personal opinion, should I seek an autism diagnosis?"
Enid tilts her head at her. "Did you have an epiphany on the toilet or something?"
"I asked you a simple question."
Reaching across the table to pat Wednesday's arm, Enid stares at her with enough affection to sicken Wednesday.
"Yes, you should. Now finish your coffee so I can go film more content."
Wednesday wordlessly finishes her cup, clearly in deep thought, while Enid posts a morning vlog and indulges in a world beyond Wednesday's comprehension.
Before they leave the bakery, Enid quickly messages Willa again.
Ok so she does know what it is
She just asked me if she should get diagnosed
Kinda weird timing huh
Notes:Enid is so stupid, but she's also 16 and playing fast and loose on the internet with no supervision. Wednesday's just unhappy to be there.
Chapter 5Summary:Enid gifts Wednesday a new companion and seeks advice from Willa.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAs it turns out, hanging out with Wednesday isn't as depressing as one might assume if they didn't understand Wednesday's character. It's different than a day with Yoko and Divina, a lot quieter and far less chaotic, but Enid doesn't mind. Just being in close proximity with Wednesday is more than enough for her.
After they have coffee at the bakery, Enid decides that Wednesday should get a chance to choose what they do next. She's admittedly apprehensive about what Wednesday might elect to do, that she might drag Enid to the cemetery, but she trusts Wednesday when she says that she cannot kill her—whatever that means, anyway.
"What do you want to do next?" Enid asks Wednesday as they're leaving the bakery. "Whatever you wanna do. I'm cool with it."
The rain has long stopped, leaving a faded gloom overhead, but Wednesday still opens her umbrella and holds it over her head. She puts her free hand in her jacket pocket, twiddling with a ball of lint in there. She doesn't say anything for awhile, contemplating like it's a life-or-death question.
"Let me guess," Enid prompts, eyeing Wednesday with a playful, almost teasing expression. "Uriah's Heap? You wanna go look at the dead things?"
Wednesday suddenly perks up like a dog being offered a treat. Neither of them have been to Uriah's Heap in quite some time, mostly because Wednesday spends most of her time in town searching for whoever is hunting her and Enid would rather pull out her own teeth than step foot in there again.
"Will you throw up and embarrass me if we do go?" Wednesday asks Enid.
"No, silly," Enid giggles. "I didn't throw up when I was outreaching with Ajax that one time. I mean, I wanted to, but I didn't. I have a stomach of steel."
Wednesday's eyebrows come together, frustrated at the mention of Ajax. She doesn't hear his name too often anymore, so maybe it's ridiculous to be overcome with such emotion, but it's reflexive.
"Don't look so jealous," Enid says, nudging Wednesday's arm. "Ajax and I aren't dating."
"Jealous?" Wednesday parrots, affronted. Her face is scrunched up like she just ate something sour. "I am not jealous of him. Who would ever be jealous of a boy who frequently stones himself by looking in the mirror?"
"You just look upset whenever someone mentions him," Enid replies with a shrug. "I just assumed that you feel jealous whenever I talk about him. I promise you that I'm way past that."
"And why would I care if you were past that or not?" Wednesday asks. "Who you are romantically or sexually interested in is none of my concern."
Enid feels like she's been punched in the gut and had the wind violently knocked out of her body. She wasn't even making an attempt at making Wednesday jealous over Ajax—someone who she's not thought about as beyond a friend in so long—and she wonders if Wednesday dislikes Ajax for the simple fact that he was once flirting with Enid, or if she dislikes him because he doesn't do anything for her.
"I was just making conversation with you," she mutters. "No need to get offended."
"I'm not offended, and I'm most certainly not jealous of someone with snakes for brains," Wednesday huffs, shifting her umbrella to the other hand. "So…Uriah's Heap?"
Relieved that the offer of spending the day with Wednesday is still on the table, Enid nods, the sourness suddenly washing away at the thought of spending the day with Wednesday, even if they're only going to be browsing dead things. "Yeah. Whatever you want to do. I'll go with you."
Wednesday gestures ahead of them, urging Enid to walk ahead of her, but Enid firmly plants herself to Wednesday's side, immediately taking coverage under the umbrella when a raindrop hits her nose.
"It's raining again," Wednesday positively observes, glancing up at the angry clouds rolling in. "It's bound to be a miserable day."
"At least we're together," Enid comments as they begin to walk in sync. Wednesday keeps the umbrella over their heads, leaning it more towards Enid's side to keep her dry, which doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated by Enid. "Whatever you want from Uriah's Heap, I'll get it for you. You know, a birthday gift."
Wednesday hesitates but keeps walking, jamming her thumb into the button on the crosswalk. "You don't have to. Admittedly, their prices aren't exactly bargains, which is to be expected for imported and handmade goods. I wouldn't ever ask you to spend your money on me."
"It's my mom's money, actually," Enid says, suggestively. "She would hate to find out that she works to earn money just for me to spend it on you. It would actually piss her off."
The crosswalk signal changes, and they both step off the sidewalk and continue across the street at a concerning slow pace.
Wednesday sighs. "Your ruse is very tempting, but I'm going to pass. I can afford to make my own purchases, assuming I find anything I'd like to bring home and won't scare you half to death to look at."
"Wednesday Addams? Being considerate of someone's feelings and phobias?" Enid dramatically clutches her chest. "Never heard of it!"
Slightly taken aback by the comment, Wednesday turns her head and glares grumpily at Enid. "I'd like to think that I consider your feelings and desires more than I do for anyone else. Do I not?"
"I was just kidding," Enid assures, opening the door to Uriah's Heap. She takes note of how soft Wednesday's eyes have gone. Wednesday doesn't move, still staring at Enid like a lost child. "Are you gonna go in?"
"You didn't answer my question," Wednesday plaintively states, halfway demanding. "Do I not consider your feelings?"
"I told you, I was just kidding," Enid defends and then awkwardly giggles to ease the tension between them. If looks could kill, she would be an absolute goner. "You do consider my feelings, and I'm super grateful for that. I feel lucky and special, because you don't normally consider people's feelings. It's like you treat me differently, even if it's hard work for you."
Wednesday doesn't say anything more or push the issue. She nods, accepting it for what it is, and enters the small shop after quickly collapsing her umbrella. Enid follows behind, distracted by the little bell tinkling above her head.
The shopkeeper, Connie, quickly emerges from a back room, holding a box on one hip. She smiles at the two girls, so bright and sunny like a ray of golden sunshine, even when Wednesday repays her with a signature scowl.
"Enid," Connie greets, setting the box down in an unspecified place on the floor. She comes around the counter to give Enid a proper hello in the form of a quick yet warm hug that has Wednesday's frown only deepening. "You got taller! And you brought a friend with you!"
"Yeah, Wednesday likes looking at dead things," Enid says, nodding towards Wednesday, who is impatiently awaiting her turn to speak for herself. "Do you have anything like that today?"
"I do have some new taxidermy spiders and mice," Connie replies, brushing past Wednesday and affectionately patting her head as she squeezes past. "I'll bring one to you."
Enid leans down a bit so Connie can't hear her speaking to Wednesday. "She didn't mean anything by it. She's just being nice, because she's a really nice lady. Don't kill her for patting your head."
"I'm not a puppy," Wednesday grumps.
"No, you're not," Enid quickly affirms, and then she smiles. "You're a grumpy kitten with a vendetta against puppies and sunshine and anything that makes children happy."
Satisfied with that, Wednesday accepts her newfound title and peruses the shelves of the cramped yet quaint shop. She browses a shelf of silvery and old trinkets for awhile, while Enid takes her sweet time avoiding looking anything dead in their glassy eyes. Wednesday tinkers with music boxes that barely work and picture frames that are coated in three generations of dust, and Enid stares out the window as the room seems to close in on her the longer she has to wait for Connie to come back with something that's likely as horrific as her nightmares. She'll do anything to please Wednesday, even if anythingrequires standing in a room filled to the brim with once-alive things stuffed with polyester and varnished so they won't rot.
Before long, Connie returns with a glass case gently cradled between her hands, announcing her arrival with a chipper, "Here she is!"
Wednesday turns first, immediately drawn to the large tarantula that's been manually flexed into a permanently relaxed position. She quickly draws near Connie, hands open and prepared to take the creature into her hands. Connie carefully transfers the case into Wednesday's greedily eager palms, warning her about how fragile the glass is.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Connie says, admiring her handiwork from afar while Wednesday is busy absorbing the absolute perfection of an arachnid. "I found her limping in the park last week. Unfortunately she was very injured and didn't make it through the night, even after I tried nursing her back to health. It didn't seem fair to toss her out like she meant nothing to anyone, so I spent the entire weekend stuffing and cleaning her up to be sold."
Enid tries not to gag. She's no stranger to oddities, especially with Wednesday and Thing as roommates, but spiders aren't her best friends. Still, she can't tell Wednesday no, especially when she sees just how excited—in her own Wednesday way—she is about it.
"She is perfect," Wednesday praises, lifting the glass to the yellow overhead lighting. She affectionately strokes a thumb where the spider's face would be before looking at Connie with intent. "I'll take her. Name your price. Usually I'm no fool to be duped, but your work is clean and well worth whatever you'd like. Tell me."
"I'm happy you love her. I spent ages on her," Connie says, patting the glass. Enid jumps as if the motion will awaken the tarantula, which causes Connie to laugh at her skittishness before she returns to Wednesday's inquiry. "She's fifty dollars."
Wednesday immediately digs into her pocket that seems to have no end, but just as she procures a clean fifty-dollar bill, Enid is gently shoving her out of the way and waving her debit card at Connie.
"I'm paying for it," she demands. "It's almost Wednesday's birthday. So I'm buying it."
Wednesday's cold, unforgiving fingers wrap around Enid's wrist. "You will not. I can purchase my own things, Enid."
"You can, but you won't," Enid laments, tugging away from her and turning to Connie. "I'm paying for it. Don't listen to her."
Connie wavers, like she doesn't want to interfere, but of course she's not going to decline a transaction, so she nods and walks Enid over to the register while Wednesday angrily scowls at her reflection in the glass and probably contemplates which method of murder she's going to utilize on Enid tonight.
Enid looks over her shoulder, making sure that Wednesday is preoccupied with admiring her new companion, and leans over the counter while Connie is writing out an old-fashioned receipt.
"I'm sorry about her arguing with me. She really is a brat," she whispers. "I know she's, like, Rockefeller rich or whatever, but the least she can do is just let me be nice to her every now and again."
Connie's smile is sweet yet suggestive. "She's a real keeper, that one. I get a lot of odd looks for having a shop like this, but I often see her peek through the window. She rarely comes inside to look, but I can see now that she wanted to visit with a friend. She's never talkative or interactive with me when I wave at her. She just…stares. Odd, but very familiar."
"She's kinda…scared of people. Or, really, people are scared of her," Enid quietly giggles, taking the receipt that she's positively going to lose by the time she gets back to Nevermore. "She's cute, isn't she? I mean, she is a minor, so don't be creepy about it. But she's cute, right?"
Chuckling at the way Enid bashfully looks at Wednesday over her shoulder, Connie pats her hand the way an older sister would.
"If you like her, you should tell her," she whispers.
Enid huffs, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Her throat is scratchy and itchy, like she's having a reaction to something. "What? I don't like her like that—"
"Please, Enid," Connie chides, friendly. "You just dropped fifty dollars on a dead tarantula for her, no hesitation. For kids your age, that's a pretty steep impulse purchase to make. The way you smile at her is extremely telling, too. But don't worry; my lips are sealed."
"Thanks," Enid mumbles under her breath. "I guess we're gonna go now. I feel that squirrel staring at me and he's making me uncomfy."
"Marty?" Connie asks, pointing to a taxidermy squirrel perched next to her register. "I can assure you he's dead."
"I know. That's why I'm uncomfy," Enid says, stepping away from the register. She gently nudges Wednesday's shoulder. "You ready to go?"
Suddenly coming back to the present, Wednesday looks up at Enid and protectively hugs the glass case to her chest as if Enid was going to snatch it from her and return it.
"I suppose," she agrees. "I should bring Lilith home. I'll have Thing make space for her on my desk, so I can admire her while I write."
"Lilith?" Enid raises a brow. "You named it?"
"Her," Wednesday corrects with edge to her voice. "She is a girl, Enid."
Enid nods, affectionately tapping the glass. "Sorry. I didn't mean to misgender the dead spider. I'm super inclusive, and that wasn't inclusive of me."
"Are you mocking me?" Wednesday accuses. "I don't appreciate that. Just because she is deceased does not mean I cannot give her a proper name. Lilith is appropriate for her. You would call a person by their preferred name because you are, as you say, inclusive, and I'd like you to provide Lilith with the same treatment."
Baffled, Enid can only dumbly nod again. Rarely does Wednesday render her speechless, but she has to admit that, on the occasions that she does, she is excellent at it.
"Fine," Enid concedes, throat tight. "Let's take Lilith home. But please don't make me pet her or anything."
She grabs Wednesday's umbrella, deciding that Wednesday's hands are too full and she's too distracted, and waves goodbye to Connie as they rush out of the shop.
They're met with another downpour accompanied by lightning strikes and thunder rolling in the distance. Enid quickly opens the umbrella, prioritizing keeping Wednesday and Lilith dry before herself. They stand outside the shop's window, wordless, while Wednesday stares at Lilith with a focused look about her.
"I suppose I should thank you," Wednesday says to Enid, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence.
"For?"
"For Lilith, of course," she replies, then pauses, once again in thought. "You're being kind to me. Why?"
Enid makes a half-scoff sound, almost in disbelief. "Because we're friends. Friends do stuff like this for each other."
Wednesday is silent for another minute or two, cradling her precious arachnid to her body like she's a newborn baby. And then, finally, dark eyes meet Enid's.
"Then I have to repay you," she says. "If that's what friends do."
"Friends also don't expect to be repaid when they do things for a friend." Enid smiles in earnest. "Let's go home. I'm freezing my actual tail off."
"Lilith is cold, too," Wednesday comments, already starting to walk down the street.
Enid quickly follows with the umbrella, trying to keep up with Wednesday's pace, even if Wednesday couldn't care any less about getting caught in the rain.
"Okay, I'm not gonna misgender the spider, but saying she's cold is a bit crazy," she says aloud, even if she meant to keep that in her head.
"Then I am crazy," Wednesday quips.
And I'm crazy about you, Wednesday.
—
Enid dropped the umbrella a mile from Nevermore, and while Wednesday admonished her in a very articulate and elegant manner, she couldn't help but to laugh at how awkward Wednesday looks when she's drenched in rain and squawking about her dead spider getting traumatized and rained on.
Once they're back in the safety of their dry and warm room, Wednesday immediately sets Lilith down on her desk and peels off her jacket. She dripped a trail of water all the way through the dorm, and it separates somewhere in the middle where Enid walked to the opposite side.
"I'm going to dry Lilith off," Wednesday announces to Enid, already grabbing a cloth and wiping the raindrops off the glass. She's concentrated and frowning with strain as she works, speaking to Enid in transitional phrases. "Afterwards, I'll shower and change out of these clothes. Then, I'll settle down and work on my novel."
"'Kay," Enid coolly says as she's tying up her wet hair into a poor attempt at a bun. "I'm gonna read my comments. I'll take a shower after you."
Wednesday doesn't say anything more, too busy with her task of tending to what could rightfully be considered her child. Enid admires her for a moment, and then she picks up her phone and reclines against her stuffed animals with intention of deleting hate comments and charming her way to ten thousand followers.
Willa hasn't responded to Enid's last messages, and that doesn't go unnoticed. Enid shouldn't care so much, but she does, and so she opens her messages with Willa, finding that Willa has yet to see them. That's a bit more comforting, knowing that she hasn't crossed a line with Willa yet.
Decidedly bored enough and contemplating what Connie told her at the shop, Enid messages Willa again, even if it makes her seem incredibly desperate for attention or a friendship that isn't with Wednesday or Yoko.
Hiiii it's me again
I wanted to ask u for some relationship advice
"Enid," Wednesday calls, urgently rousing Enid's attention. "I'm going to take a shower and get into some dry clothes now. Thing is still being dramatic and napping in his drawer."
"Okay," says Enid, still focused on her chat with Willa, who's yet to open her messages. "I'll be here."
After Wednesday has collected a fresh set of clothes, Enid hears the bathroom door lock, and not long after, the shower turns on. She sighs contentedly, nestling into her stuffed panda bear and absentmindedly spam-liking comments on her morning vlog, most of which are overwhelmingly positive with little room for negativity.
Suddenly a new message appears at the top of her screen. She immediately taps on it, opening up her chat with Willa.
What do you need advice on?
I'm by no means a relationship expert, but I can try to offer insight.
Soooooooo yk how I feel about Wednesday
I'm trying to show her I like her even tho I know she won't like me back
Today I bought her a dead tarantula bc she really liked it and I want her to be happy or whatever happy is to her
But I told her that's what friends do for each other
And now I feel dumb bc now she thinks that one I only see her as a friend and two that she has to repay me
Help
Seen
Enid, if you are at such a crossroads about this, I think you should tell her how you really feel.
I can't though
Seen
Why not?
Like I said straight girl!
I CANNOT FALL FOR A STRAIGHT GIRL
I CANNOT BE A STATISTIC IN THE WLW COMMUNITY
I WILL BE SHUNNED
Seen
The conversation falls off for a moment, and then Willa starts typing.
No need to be aggressive. I'm trying to help.
Perhaps I am being overly optimistic, but this is a situation wherein the saying "you'll never know if you don't try" plays a large role.
Unless, of course, you ask her outright what her sexuality is before you admit to your feelings.
Sorry for yelling :(
But if I ask her she's gonna ask me why I care and why I need to know and what's it to me and all this smart ass shit
Idk what to do if that happens
Seen
Simple. You claim that you are making conversation.
Nothing is simple with her
She will demand to know why I'm being invasive
I can just hear her now Omg she's gonna kill me
Seen
I'm referring back to my previous statement. You'll never know if you don't try.
Do you know what her politics are?
Why the hell do I care about her politics
She can't even vote yet
Seen
Well, politics are important and can indicate a lot about a person. You should care.
But I'm asking because her political stance could impact how she views same-sex relationships. If she falls on the conservative side, you might be better off shooting yourself in the foot. But if not, it's worth a try.
She hates everybody all the same so idk
She's not conservative tho
Pretty sure she would overthrow the government at first chance and make them her servants
Seen
I'm not sure there is a specific party for that.
But she seems to have taken a liking to you, so maybe "everybody" is too broad of an assumption to make.
How do you figure that?
Seen
You say she hates everybody, but she clearly tolerates you. She accepted a gift from you today. If she truly hated you, she would want nothing to do with you.
Hmmmm maybe
But I don't wanna push it
Seen
She is not conservative, and she willingly spends time with you despite hating the fact that people exist.
That's all you need to know.
Maybe ur right but I'm scared
I don't wanna lose her over this
Seen
You won't lose her. The fact that she makes a moral exception for you is very telling.
Enid stares at the message for a minute or two, and the shower is still running. It's now that she realizes that she's been talking to Willa for almost half an hour. Concerned that Wednesday might have passed out in the shower, she rolls out of bed and tentatively knocks on the bathroom door.
"Wednesday?" she calls out. "Save some water for me, damn."
Something falls to the floor. Enid jumps back, prepared to burst in if she has to, and then Wednesday speaks.
"Let me have my peace, Enid!"
Sighing in relief, Enid flops back on her bed. She starts typing again.
I guess I'll try
But not today
Idk when
I think I love her and I'm scared
Willa doesn't respond, so Enid turns over onto her belly and listens to the gentle sound of the shower spray. She doesn't notice how easily she falls asleep there, even in soaking wet clothes and with an aching heart.
Notes:We should rate how stupid Enid is every chapter on a scale of 1-10. She really outdoes herself.
(And yes I'm a strong believer that the Addams family are anything BUT conservative, and I will not be elaborating or taking any counterpoints. They're progressivists, but in the Addams way. I said what I said.)
Chapter 6Summary:Willa gives Enid advice on how to approach Wednesday.
Notes:This is so much shorter than I had originally planned, but it ends organically, and that's all that matters to me.
—Sincerely, Sierra
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextEnid wakes up in a puddle of her own drool and to the sound of Wednesday scolding someone between clicks of old typewriter keys. She swipes her face over the blanket that's bunched underneath her, wiping off the saliva that's crusted itself on the corners of her mouth. Her eyelids flutter against the yellow string lights that twinkle and glow bright. She can't recall turning them on before she passed out while waiting for Wednesday to give her a turn to shower.
"Stop it, Thing," Wednesday admonishes in a whisper. "You are going to break Lilith and wake Enid, both of which I do not want to deal with the ramifications of." She pauses, lowering her voice into a snarl. "I said, stop it. Yes, she is dead. I'm certain of it. What's wrong with her name?" Another pause, and then a disgruntled huff. "Well, I didn't ask you if you liked her name or not. You are so incredibly opinionated for a hand. Now hush and stop tapping the glass. You are going to wake Enid up from her nap. She's had a long day, and I want her to sleep." There is a moment of silence, and then a grunt. "No, you can't wake her up to do your nails right now. She is sleeping. Stop being so inconsiderate. Find something else to do."
"I'm up," Enid grumbles, rolling over onto her back and staring at the ceiling. "What time is it?"
She hears Wednesday spin around in her squeaky chair, undoubtedly surprised to hear Enid's voice.
"A quarter to six," Wednesday diplomatically answers. "You've been asleep for quite some time. I was going to go downstairs and bring your dinner up to you so you might not starve to death."
Reaching a hand up to her head, Enid notices that her messy bun has come undone in her sleep. Her hair is still damp and smells of fresh rain and laundry detergent. She groans, flipping onto her stomach and squinting as her eyes try adjusting to the light. Once the fog clears, she sees Wednesday sitting across the room, wearing comfortable clothes and only her socks. Her hair is noticeably shiny and wet but nicely plaited on either side of her face, tied off with silky black ribbons.
"I need a shower," Enid comments at the end of a deep, satisfying yawn, combing her fingers through her tousled hair. "You don't have to bring me anything. I think I'll just shower and go back to bed. I don't feel very in the mood to eat right now."
Wednesday blinks at her, hands loosely fidgeting in her lap. "But your werewolf appetite is always hungry. It's important that you eat, especially red meat. They're serving steak tonight."
"I'm okay, I promise," Enid assures, getting out of bed and dramatically stretching her arms. "You can go without me if you want. I think I'll just stay here."
Wednesday's vacant, dejected stare is halfway unnerving to Enid. She sits there, making no effort to move or take Enid's words as her cue to go to dinner without her. If Enid weren't so accustomed to those big brown eyes giving her subtle glares, she might be spooked by it, but instead, she warmly smiles at Wednesday.
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks, wiping sleep crust from her eyelids. "Is that why you're looking at me like a kicked puppy?"
"I would prefer it," Wednesday replies, candidly. She briefly moves her gaze elsewhere before looking back at Enid, hesitating a moment. Her hands never stop working in her lap. "I need you as a buffer between me and Yoko. You once left me to dine with her alone, and she would not be quiet about how long and deceased her family lineage is. If you want to keep your best friend, I'd suggest you tag along and sit between us so I might not murder her in a fit of rage."
"Fine. Just let me have a hot shower first so I can wake up a little more," Enid concedes, yawning again. Thing waves a finger at her. "Hi, Thing. Did you have a nice nap, too?" Thing taps a "YES" at her. "Same. It felt so good. Did you see the spider I got for Wednesday?"
Wednesday interjects, her face angrily scrunching in that way that makes Enid's heart grow impossibly larger. "He did. He attempted to break the glass. Said I don't need another friend or companion when I have him. I sense a bit of rivalry between them."
"Thing," Enid teases with a smile. She walks to Wednesday's desk and nudges his knuckles. "I didn't get the spider for her to make you jealous or feel replaced. Wednesday really wanted it, and it's almost her birthday, so I bought it for her. It's just a present."
"Her," Wednesday reminds with an edge to her voice. "She is a girl, Enid."
"Her," Enid politely corrects, still looking at Thing. "You're still my bestie, and Wednesday still loves you. I promise."
"Speak for yourself," Wednesday mutters. Her big Bambi eyes remind Enid of an innocent baby calf. She's endearing without even trying to be, soft without even wanting to be, perfect without even knowing it. "Dinner will start soon. You'd better shower now. I'll finish up this chapter by the time you're done, and we can walk downstairs together."
Enid grabs a fresh outfit from her closet—loose baby pink sweatpants and a faded lavender purple tee that she's almost sure is irregular, because it feels lopsided—and swipes her phone off her bed. She locks herself in the bathroom, noting how neat and tidy Wednesday keeps her side of the counter and how she intends to keep it that way to avoid upsetting her.
After turning on the taps and letting the room fill with steam, she glances at her phone. She's becoming addicted to checking her stats and reading her comments, and while she's also trying to find balance between social media and reality, she can't help but to be drawn into a parasocial world where people she will never meet in person comment on how cute her outfits are and how weird her roommate seems to be from her background role in Enid's videos.
Some days it even feels like an out-of-body experience for her, like it's happening to someone else and she can only watch from an outsider's perspective. Some mornings, she wakes up to hundreds of new comments and it's hard to believe that each one—well, almost—is a real person who is trying to rouse her attention with compliments and questions and sometimes, but more rarely nowadays, criticism. It's difficult to wrap her head around the fact that strangers can see her life and crave more of it, but it's also some sort of drug. She appreciates the attention she's earned; the comments, the views, the saves, the likes.
She even appreciates the company and advice of Willa, who she suddenly remembers falling asleep while awaiting a response from. While the water is still heating up to her desired boiling temperature, she takes a seat on the toilet lid and opens the TikTok app. She's bombarded with new likes and comments, all of which she quickly bypasses on her way to her direct messages. Her viewers are going to have to be patient this time.
Unsurprisingly, there is an unread message from Willa, staring at Enid in bold black lettering. Enid can hardly recall where there conversation left off, what she last told Willa before falling asleep, if Willa had even responded to her before then. She's still a little drowsy, and it takes a lot for the fog to clear as she's reading the message.
If you think you love her, it is best to be honest about that. Otherwise, you will need to move on without her.
Once again, Enid's stomach begins to hurt at the very thought of confessing her love for Wednesday. It's more than terrifying; it's embarrassing and makes her intestines twist up into balloon animals.
But I can't be honest with her right now
I know I should but ugh it's too complicated
Enid sits there, knees nervously bouncing up and down. The bathroom smells of Wednesday's fancy goats milk bar soap that permeates through the entirety of the dorm whenever the shower is running. It's sweet yet bitter and reminds her fondly of hugging Wednesday the night of the blood moon, except then the scent of sweet milk and dead flowers was coupled with blood and iron, and Enid feels robbed of experiencing Wednesday's affection in its natural state.
Suddenly, the "seen" banner appears under Enid's recent message. She holds her breath, shuts her eyes, and when she opens them, Willa has responded.
I understand that it feels complicated because you fear that she is heterosexual and your confession of love will scare her away.
But you will never know if you never try. Do you plan on never admitting your feelings to her and continuing to hopelessly yearn until you die or get over it, whichever happens first?
Ow that's harsh
But idk really because I *know* my roomie and I know she will hate me
Her bf was like really mean and awful to her for like the 5.3 days they dated
And she swears off romance now bc he hurt her
Seen
You realistically only have two options: tell her or don't. Either way, you will have to live with the outcome of your decision.
You'll either live with telling her and either she accepts or declines. Or you don't tell her and you yearn forever while submitting to heterosexuality to numb the permanent ache in your chest.
It's, admittedly, not what Enid wanted to hear, but she also doesn't know what she wants to hear.
I wanna take the chance bc I literally live with her and it's so hard to feel like this
But also I don't wanna bc she's gonna think I'm a perv
And ewwww I'm not falling for comphet!
I'll die alone with a billion cats before I submit to that!
Seen
You need to learn to manipulate conversation to get the information you need to proceed.
And how do I do that?
Usually I'm just honest with her and then she lies to me or shuts down emotionally and doesn't talk for days
It's what I love about her 😍
My emotionally unstable princess
Seen
Shall I provide you with a script to speak to her?
A script?
Wtf does that mean?
Seen
I'm going to teach you how to manipulate conversation so you can find out what you need and make a decision based upon her responses.
She sounds like a piece of work, so you are going to have to work twice as hard.
Ok fine
I trust u
How do I do this
We're gonna go have dinner soon
I can talk to her then
Seen
Firstly, you should initiate the topic of sexuality with her, but not about either of you. That's likely to scare her off.
You can say that you saw a video about sexuality and society's poor view on it on social media and give an opinion on it.
Say, "I don't understand why certain people don't like gay people."
And if you feel comfortable to proceed, depending on her reaction, you could follow up and admit to her that you are not heterosexual yourself. Are you comfortable with that?
Of course Enid is comfortable with the idea of Wednesday knowing that she isn't straight, but she's not exactly thrilled to have an entire conversation on sexual identity with someone whose only partially-romantic experience ended in battle and bloodshed. She almost would rather cut off her own toes than discuss sexual orientation with Wednesday.
Idk
I can tell her that I'm not straight
That I like girls and stuff
I think she already knows that much idk for sure though
But what do I do if she ignores me? Sometimes she doesn't like to be bothered
She's an introverted princess
Seen
If she ignores you, leave her alone and try again later. You do not want to push her. She will become suspicious of your motives and catch on.
From what I understand from watching your content, she is intelligent and wary of others. People like that tend to not trust very easily. You don't want to damage the trust she has in you.
Yeah ur totally right
She has a hard time opening up to ppl so I don't wanna make her feel like she can't trust me yk?
Seen
Right. You two seem very close. You don't want to scare her away by being too open, but you also can't hide it if you want things to progress.
She is very fortunate to have someone who cares for her in such an intimate way.
Ugh why does she have to be so complicated sometimes
Idk why I feel nervous to tell her the truth
She always tells the truth even if she hurts someone's feelings
Seen
You care about her. And you take into consideration that she was recently hurt by someone she thought she could trust in some capacity.
You are a good person, Enid. Don't ever allow anyone to tell you otherwise.
Well I can be a better bf than HIM anyway
And I'm not even a boy
Enid jumps out of her skin at the sound of urgent knocking at the door. Her phone clatters to the floor, fortunately landing on the soft bath mat laid in front of the sink. She picks it up, quickly exiting the app without checking the "seen" status on her message to Willa.
"Enid, are you nearly done in there?" Wednesday calls. "Thing is hungry."
"I'm—I'm—" Enid fumbles, scrambling to strip her clothing off. "I'm having a private moment!"
"You have five minutes to stop fondling yourself and join us for dinner," Wednesday demands from the other side of the door. "Don't make me pick this lock, Enid."
The threat is ambiguous and almost sounds teasing rather than menacing. Enid's insides twist like she's just been gutted like a fish. She can hear her own heartbeat thumping wildly in her ears as she braces a hand on the closest wall she can touch, starting to migrate into the shower that feels like a tiny box closing in around her.
"Let me have my peace, Wednesday!"
Footsteps retreat from the door, leaving Enid slumped against the shower wall. The water has long gone cold, but maybe it's more beneficial to her, anyway.
Notes:Nevermore is gonna be out of water by the time Enid gets it together.
Also happy gay month, 'cause you know we're gay and stuff.