Chapter 10Summary:Enid gets a rude awakening from Yoko.
Notes:I totally did not mean to leave y'all on a cliffhanger for almost two weeks, but I've had a lot of things go on since then and just did not have the capacity of time to write. I also appreciate that y'all think I'm evil for that cliffhanger. 😈 My job is done.
BUT I'm here to feed y'all for now. One more chapter after this and we're done!
—Sincerely, Sierra
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextOnce the anger has subsided into something merely residual and also something Enid can handle without feeling her inner werewolf trying to claw her way through her human skin, she decides that being angry at Wednesday doesn't make much sense, even if the surprise has been entirely ruined.
She doesn't know how Wednesday would've been able to figure out what her birthday gift is going to be. Of course, Wednesday's lifelong purpose is to snoop and pry and investigate because she just can't keep her sticky fingers off anything, so Enid can't be all too shocked that she found out, but it's still frustrating and upsetting. Enid put in hours of work, just for Wednesday to spoil the surprise for herself and not even give Enid one thank-you for it.
After Enid's growled discontentedly a few times and kicked the stupid plank that's peeling up, the same one that scraped a good chunk of her flesh off, she lifts up her mattress and finds the snood wedged between the top of the mattress and the wall. It doesn't seem that Wednesday tampered with it, but she's always been good about not leaving evidence behind.
Frustrated, Enid plops down on her bed and grabs her phone. Her heart is still beating rapidly and her whole body feels hot. If she were any more upset, her wolf might have made an unruly appearance, but tearing the room apart isn't going to solve anything.
She needs to talk to someone—anyone. Unlike Wednesday, who appreciates to wallow in her solitude whenever things start going haywire, Enid prefers the company of another person whenever she feels like she's being lifted clean off her feet.
Her first thought is to text Yoko. It's too close to dinner, and she thinks Yoko might not read it until afterwards, but it's worth a try.
Hey yo-yo 🧛♀️
Are u home
Or are u at dinner
The text bubble appears almost immediately, and she breathes a relieved sigh.
I was about to go to dinner
Why
Ok can I come see u right now pls
Emergency
Are you dying
Inside yes
Outside no
Is this about Wednesday?
Because I already told you what to do, and I'm going to be even harsher with you about it if you keep pestering me
Yea but not in the way u think
Pls can I just come over
Please please please I need u Dracula
Hurry up
I'm hangry 🩸
Omw
1 min ok?
She doesn't even bother to lock the door on her way out. If anyone really wants to steal her unicorn collection or Wednesday's dusty vinyls, they can absolutely be her guest.
Yoko's dorm is just below hers. She takes the stairs down, trying to be courteous of the other students maneuvering around her, but they seem to get the idea that now is not the best time to provoke a werewolf, and they part for her like she's some sort of celebrity.
When she gets there, Yoko's door immediately opens and a hand reaches out and grabs her by the sweater. She's yanked inside and the door slams shut, and when she makes a note to blink away what feels like tears brimming her eyelids, she sees Yoko standing there with her hands on her hips.
"I kicked my roommate out for this, and she's a bitch," Yoko tells her, a belligerent look on her face. "I'm hangry for blood and you conveniently are my favorite type. You've got five minutes to spill your guts all over my clean rug and then I'm sinking my teeth into you."
Enid takes a deep breath. "It's a long story."
"Then make it short," Yoko says, glancing at her watch. "It's feeding time."
"Okay, so basically, I started to write the birthday card and tell her how I really feel about her, and I thought I was totally alone, but…" She pauses, mostly because she can't breathe, but the dramatization is quite amusing for Yoko. "Wednesday came out—"
"Of the closet?" Yoko interjects.
"Shut it!" Enid throws her hands in the air. "No! She came out of the bathroom. And she saw all the stuff I got at the drugstore, and she pointed at it and was like, 'For the snood?' And then she got this scared look on her face, and then she picked up her jacket and ran away. I found the snood where it originally was. Which, by the way, I never once told her about. It was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow. So either she snooped around my personal space when I wasn't home, or…or…"
Yoko raises an eyebrow. "Or?"
Really, there isn't an "or." Wednesday went on an impromptu investigation in Enid's belongings without permission because she felt like it, or maybe she thought that Enid was hiding something of importance, and she found something she shouldn't have. That's all that could be plausible.
Unless, of course…
"You don't think Divina would've opened her mouth about it, right?" she asks Yoko, completely breathless.
The immediate slight on Yoko's face has Enid cringing and vomiting up an apology. She doesn't mean to accuse anyone of anything—except for Wednesday—but saying that she's frustrated is putting it very mildly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like I'm accusing Divina of ruining the surprise," she says in earnest. "But there's just no way, Yoko. There's no way she could have known about it. Someone had to have tipped her off. And I only told you and Divina."
Yoko folds her arms, still full of spite. "And the entirety of the internet, might I add. You're blaming Divina, who only entertains Wednesday as an extension of you so she doesn't hurt your feelings by saying that she's not part of the Wednesday Addams fan club and doesn't even exert one iota of energy on her, when Wednesday herself could be trolling the whole fucking internet right now and stalking your every move through a social media account. She has a cellphone, and I don't believe she's as technology-illiterate as you think she is. She's playing you at every given opportunity because that's who she is, and you'd be a fool to think she wouldn't do something like that."
An anxious, angry growl leaves Enid's chest. She mimics Yoko and folds her arms, immediately curling into herself.
It's more than just frustrating now. Everyone either blames Wednesday for being reckless, or they blame Enid for being blind to said recklessness, and it doesn't feel fair.
"Someone had to have told her," Enid laments, huffing under her breath. She turns on her heel and starts pacing like an anxious puppy. "Maybe someone here watches my videos and decided to tell her to ruin the surprise for her. Yes, she's a saint to some people, but not everyone likes her. She's still kinda rude to most, and I can already think of a few people who really, really dislike her. That has to be it, right? They hate her and wanted to ruin her birthday present. But it's not like she cares if it's ruined or not. She didn't look upset by it. I mean, it's Wednesday we're talking about—"
"Oh my god, please shut up and use what little of your frontal lobe that has already developed," Yoko grates, grabbing hold of Enid's sweater and spinning her around. "Nobody told her, nobody spoiled her surprise but her. Why can't you just admit to yourself that she would do something like this? This is kinda her thing. She went snooping through your stuff, invaded your privacy, and found something she shouldn't have. End of story. I don't know why you keep trying to defend her bad behavior and equally bad habits. Maybe you want to see the good in her, and I admire that about you, but Enid, you need to wake the fuck up and realize that she is who she is and she's never going to change just because you're extending kindness towards her. You're only hurting yourself by pouring all your love and devotion into someone who won't look your way for more than one second unless she sees an opportunity to get what she wants from you."
Warm tears spill over Enid's eyelids and trickle down her cheeks. She hastily wipes them away with the backs of her hands, like a toddler, and sniffles up all the mucus that's on the cusp of draining out of her nose.
"Stop crying, Enid," Yoko harshly says, her voice tight and her expression hard. "I think Wednesday cares about you, in her own twisted way. The way she held onto you when she thought you were dead…it did something to her. I saw something in her completely change. But I don't think she knows how to show it, because that would mean she's surrendering to human emotion and need, and we both know that she doesn't want that. It doesn't mean she cares for you any less, but it does mean that she's unlikely to make the first move. You're chasing her in circles, hoping she'll understand, but she won't. That's not who she is. She doesn't trust people, and she will continue to snoop and pry and invade your privacy and troll you on the internet. You'll just have to learn to live with the fact that she does shit like this and you cannot change that about her. So stop whining about Wednesday doing Wednesday things, and go tell her how you feel if you really want this for yourself."
Enid wipes the wetness off her face with her sweater. Yoko doesn't scold her for making a mess of herself or delaying her blood dinner; she's softer now, her eyes—that Enid rarely ever gets to see without the protective lenses—kinder and more sympathetic now.
"I'm your best friend for life and death, Enid, so I'm gonna tell you the truth," Yoko says, grabbing Enid's hand and bringing her to her bed. She helps Enid sit at the edge of the mattress, grabbing her cellphone off her nightstand and taking a seat next to her. "I was curious about this Willa person you've been talking to. I saw all her comments, even the ones you missed or got buried under everyone else's. She's not who she says she is."
Enid sniffles again, but her body relaxes. She leans into Yoko's body for comfort, laying her head on a strong shoulder, pillowing her cheek on the soft cotton material of Yoko's Poe Cup hoodie that Wednesday mentioned she's jealous of.
"What does Willa have to do with this?" she asks Yoko. "I'm talking about Wednesday here."
Yoko doesn't say anything for a moment, hesitating as she looks around the darkness of her dorm room. Enid's weight sinks further into her, like she's chasing warmth and solace from her, and so Yoko wraps an arm around her shoulder and hugs her close.
"You know I'm, like, the best troll the internet's ever seen, right?" Yoko asks. "I've been on the internet since before there was even dial-up. I know how to troll, and I know how to spot a troll. I did some stalking for you a couple days ago, and with some convincing and bribing, I got Divina to use her sock puppet account to message Willa on TikTok. My only account was too obvious and has my name and face attached to it. I didn't want a paper trail."
Enid shrugs a lazy shoulder. "So? Divina uses her sock account to troll me, too. What's the point?"
Suddenly, Yoko's chemistry folder is whacking Enid upside her head. She jerks away and puts a hand to the place where a staple caught the skin of her forehead.
"What the hell, Yoko!"
"I'm saying that Willa is actually Wednesday and she's been playing you this entire time," Yoko says, tossing her folder aside. "It took a lot of convincing and manipulating the conversation, but after about six hours, I finally got her to slip up."
Enid blinks at Yoko, letting her hand fall to her lap. Suddenly her head doesn't hurt anymore, but her stomach certainly does.
"How could you assume that?" she asks in a whisper of disbelief. "She's so private about her life. You can't just assume that one random person hiding behind a blank account is Wednesday. You just can't."
"I messaged her on the sock account. I told her that she was very nice for defending you, and I boosted her ego by saying that she must be a very loyal person if she's willing to defend a stranger. I didn't think she would respond, and she left me on read for awhile, and then she actually responded, and I used my manipulation tactics to get her to talk. At first she refused to give her location away, but then she admitted that she lives in Vermont but is not originally from here." Yoko scrolls on her phone, intently focused on her myriad of screenshots that she loves to take to weaponize against people later. "And then I migrated to conversation about hairstyles and such, because she said she's a girl and girls talk about that stuff, and she said that she prefers wearing two braids to keep it out of her face because it's so long. She actually opened up to me and gave herself away without giving herself away, although the proper grammar and punctuation was already a dead giveaway. The idiot. Here. Scroll left."
Yoko drops her phone in Enid's lap, open to a screenshot of a conversation between Divina's sock account and user18996356001. She stares at it for a moment and scrolls left, trying to make sense of the conversation.
Two braids. Vermont. Private school. Black clothes. Proper grammar. Scorpions as domesticated pets. Lack of modern technology. Anti-theism. Witchcraft.
Enid makes it to the last of the eight screenshots, eyes widening at Yoko's—Divina's—last message to Willa, sent nine hours ago.
Hi Wednesday Addams.
Seen
"She blocked me. Well, Divina, I guess," Yoko says. "Admission of guilt, I'd say. I was waiting for the right time to break it to you, but I guess now is as good as it'll get."
"I gotta go back to my room," Enid says, shoving Yoko's phone against Yoko's chest as she stands up. She makes a run for the door, mumbling something to herself.
Yoko follows her, catching onto her wrist. "Enid, you can't just escape this. You can believe that it's a coincidence, that there is another girl out there who always wears two braids and black clothes and attends a private school in the tiny state of Vermont and had a scorpion as a pet and is so deep into anti-theism it would send Friedrich Nietzsche into a coma, but that's not reality. Willa is Wednesday, and there's nothing you can say to make it make sense, so just come to terms with it and understand that, while she's a little shit, she's a little shit who loves you more than anything."
Enid yanks her arm away. Her face feels like it's on fire and she can feel her fingertips tingling.
"This is just like her!" she snaps. "I'm such an idiot!"
"You are not an idiot, Enid," says Yoko, shaking her head. "She does shit like this because she can't admit to her feelings, but you know what, neither can you. You're both chasing each other like a bad high. Her way was just more unconventional."
"Then she knows, Yoko," Enid whispers, licking salty tears from the corners of her mouth. "I admitted to Willa that I like—no, I love Wednesday. And she kept giving me all these elaborate schemes to win Wednesday over."
A cold hand cups under Enid's chin and lifts it so she's looking at a very blurry Yoko. She lets a few more tears fall, nuzzling against Yoko's hand.
"Then she wants you to win her over," Yoko points out. "If she didn't, she would've told you that it's not worth it. She wouldn't have tried so hard to get you to tell her how you feel. So yes, you can be mad at her for doing this, and you should be, but she wants you to love her."
"And I do." Enid sniffles. "I do love her."
"Then tell her," Yoko encourages, nudging Enid towards the door. "Wipe your face and get it over with. You're better than this, Enid. I didn't raise a bitch."
That's all Enid needs to wipe the tears off her face and dust herself off. She doesn't give Yoko a verbal thank-you, but she does smile vacantly at her as she's leaving the room. She closes the door behind herself, sucks up the rest of the mucus, and goes back upstairs to her dorm, hoping that Wednesday hasn't found her way back just yet.
She doesn't feel quite ready to tell her, even if she wants this to be over.
The dorm is still empty and the tulle is still unfurled somewhere and the card is still shoved under her laptop. The bathroom light is off and the door is ajar. Wednesday's side of the room is barren and cold, illuminated only by a bedside lamp that's decorated—Wednesday's word, not Enid's—with cobwebs.
In the warm lamplight, Enid notices Wednesday's cellphone laying on her desk. She approaches it, throwing a precautious glance over her shoulder, and grabs her own phone. She sighs, and it feels like her lungs are being split open, but it's nothing compared to how achy her heart feels when she thinks about Wednesday never coming home.
She opens her chat with Willa, staring blankly at the keyboard for a solid minute, and then she quickly types, holding her breath like breathing is bad luck.
Willa?
The moment she hits send with an unsure thumb, like she's detonating a bomb, Wednesday's phone buzzes and lights up. Enid takes a peek, discovering that her new screensaver is a simple screenshot of one of Enid's TikToks—of Enid wearing sunglasses and grinning at the camera, backlit by golden sunshine that makes the pastels in her hair shimmer like a mermaid tail.
And there, laid across Enid's forehead, is a new TikTok DM notification.
enid 💖🐺☀️
Willa?
Notes:I enjoyed reading your comments of your predictions and theories as to how Enid would find out. All were plausible, but there was something about Wednesday telling on herself that really did it for me.
I love my useless lesbians and their improper usage of the internet. Stay off the internet, kids.
Let me know what you think! I love you all 🖤
Chapter 11Summary:The end.
Notes:I seriously love you all and your support. I really do write for you and not myself. Your comments and kudos and all the bookmarks mean a lot to me. 🖤
Here's another finale for you.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextEnid hears the familiar puttering of Thing ambling about the room while she's blinking at Wednesday's phone screen that has now gone dark and left only her confused, mortified reflection in lieu of the photo of herself.
"Perfect timing," she says upon coming out of her trance. She looks down at Thing, who's been circling her feet like a loyal puppy. "Tell me where she is."
I know nothing of her whereabouts, he tells her.
"You follow her everywhere like you're her dog," she says, pointedly glaring at him. "Don't play these bullshit games with me like her. You're better than that."
I'm not the dog here, he taps out, and then he stands up on all his fingers and flexes his muscles. Enid knows that means he's hesitating or thinking about what to say next.
"I'm not gonna hurt her. I would never," Enid insists, crouching down to his level. "I just wanna talk to her. That's all. You know I would never, not in a million years, hurt Wednesday. I know she's probably mad at herself right now, and not gonna lie, I'm kinda ticked off with her about this whole thing, but I just wanna make this better so it'll go away."
Thing visibly relaxes for a moment but doesn't say anything. Enid sits like that, half-crouched, half-squatting, until her legs give out, and then she sits on her butt with her legs curled up. She waits for Thing, albeit extremely impatiently, tapping her fingers on the dusty floorboards.
When Thing fails to say anything, Enid sighs and looks at him with a much softer facial expression. He notices, and in turn, he goes slack.
"Can you please tell me where she is?" Enid asks. "I'm not gonna yell or get mad. I just want to talk to her. You can come along if it'll make you feel better."
She just needs some time. She is upset with herself,he says.
Enid nods. "Yeah, I know she is. And I know the truth now, too. I can see why she's mad at herself. I'm a little mad, too. I won't hurt her or yell, though. I'd never do that to her. It hurt me so badly the first time I told her off. The look on her face before I left is, like, permanently burned into my head. She looked so sorry but couldn't say it, and I wanted to prove a point by leaving. I was always gonna come back, even if you…you know. Even if all that didn't happen."
Thing does his version of a wince—by curling two fingers into his palm. Enid affectionately pats his wrist in apology, swallowing a hard lump in her throat.
She tries not to think about the night she left Wednesday. Every now and then, as she's trying to sleep, she'll see those big brown eyes filling with tears and the way Wednesday noticeably crumbled when Enid raised her voice at her. At first, Enid felt proud of herself for standing up to such a stubborn mule and leaving with her head held high and the promise of abandoning Wednesday for good, but once she made it to Yoko's room, she completely crashed and didn't stop crying until she found a reason to crawl her way back to Wednesday—with a few more boundaries in place between them, of course.
This feels different, though. Wednesday was the one to leave, and if Enid knows her, she's probably laying in the fetal position atop a stranger's freshly-dug grave or plucking the wings off a butterfly to soothe the angry ache of self-hatred. Or maybe she went out for a steaming coffee, as black as her heart, and is sipping on it as she contemplates murdering Enid so she won't have to own up to her actions.
She told me everything, Thing taps, crawling into Enid's inviting lap.
"Now let me tell you the truth," says Enid.
No need to. She admitted to me that it was all her fault, he says.
Surprised, Enid blinks at him. "Really? Hm. Character development, I guess." She chews her lip, sighing. "I'm so embarrassed. I told Willa—Wednesday—everything without knowing it was her. Even details I didn't want her to know. I feel like she kinda invaded my privacy by pretending to be someone that doesn't even exist. She really hurt my feelings, and I know that's the Wednesday thing to do, but I thought we were getting somewhere with that. I kinda expected more from her, really. I care for her so much, and I thought that we were on the way to actually being best friends, if nothing else, and then she does this. And I know you're gonna defend her because she's your family and all that, but my feelings are really, really hurt, so if you could just spare me the defense and just—"
Thing taps her knee, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
"Sorry. Rambling again," she says. "But still. I don't want the huge 'she just doesn't understand' speech. I get that. And I'm still allowed to be hurt by her actions."
She understands that she was wrong. She is miserable right now.
"So she feels good, then. Got it," Enid sourly mumbles. Thing gives her a disappointed look. "Sorry. I'm just upset. It's totally valid."
I understand how you feel. I, too, was once a young, handsome man in love with someone who had the communication skills of a toad.
Enid giggles. "Who did you fall in love with?"
A toad, he says.
Enid stops laughing just then, becoming serious as she sits up on her palms. "What?"
Anyway, he taps. I'll tell you where she is, if you promise me that I can come along and you won't shout at her. I say that for your safety, not hers. She has a knife, and it's not to use on herself.
It's an iffy promise to make when Wednesday Addams is involved, but nevertheless, Enid sticks out her pinkie finger and wraps it around Thing's.
—
Wednesday isn't good at running away, Enid surmises as she's approaching Eugene's Hummers hideaway positioned nicely under an alcove of trees behind Nevermore. It's not far at all, which Enid finds herself grateful for when her legs start to hurt alongside her face from all the crying she's done.
Humming and buzzing greets Enid, inviting her towards the lopsided shed that's liable to come tumbling down the next time a storm blows into town. It's Eugene's safe place, though, and sometimes, Wednesday likes to crash here whenever things get a little too ridiculous to handle in Ophelia Hall.
Thing sits quietly on Enid's shoulder, as Enid promised to allow him. If she had her way, she would've thwarted him and vetoed that idea, but she's trying to compromise in an otherwise intransigent situation.
"Just let me talk to her," Enid whispers to Thing, five feet from the shed. "If shit starts going wrong, you can intercept. She'll listen to you."
She has a knife, Thing warns.
"I know. You told me," she replies, affectionately patting him. "And I'm not afraid of that pocketknife. I've got ten knives under my fingernails. Not that I'm expecting anything to go that far, but I'm just saying. What's scarier; a werewolf, or a five-foot girl with a four-inch blade?"
She'll call Wednesday's bluff, because that's a lot easier than dealing with the ramifications of laughing in her face and mocking the fact that she's always armed with some sort of weaponry. Enid doesn't doubt that Wednesday has a knife or something alike it, but she's not going to intentionally provoke her.
She's five-one, Thing corrects.
"Platforms don't count for height," Enid giggles, helping Thing off her shoulder and setting him at her feet. "Keep quiet. Don't poke the bear and it won't eat you."
I should be telling you that, don't ya think?
"Don't be a smart ass," she scolds, smoothing out her clothes. "Come on. Quietly. And if she stabs me, run and get Yoko."
Thing salutes her in agreement, scuttling just behind Enid's ankles.
Enid stands in front of the door, rolling her shoulders and taking in a big, sobering breath that hurts as it rushes into her lungs. She pushes the door open with a splintered groan, first poking her head inside and then emerging in full with Thing obediently following.
Wednesday is curled into a ball in one empty corner of the room, her knees drawn to her chin and her arms wound around them like she's trying to protect her organs. She doesn't immediately notice Enid or Thing, and then the door closes with more force than Enid intended, and she jumps out of her skin.
Enid doesn't greet her or smile or do anything that would warrant a knife to the gut, but she does block the doorway, because no matter how secretive Wednesday might be, there is no getting out of here without conversation.
"You traitor," Wednesday snarls at Thing. Her red-rimmed eyes narrow with hatred. "You told her everything, didn't you?"
"No need for him to tell me anything, Willa," Enid says. "I already know."
Wednesday visibly recoils. "That's not my name."
"I know it's not, but it's the name you used to waste my time and troll me on the internet by pretending to be someone that doesn't even exist," Enid coolly says, shrugging despite the rage building inside of her when she remembers all the time and emotional energy she flushed down the toilet. "It's fine, though. I just wanna talk."
It's not fine, but antagonizing Wednesday isn't going to resolve anything. If Enid knows any better from the hours she's spent reading questionable mental health articles, she knows that she needs to proceed with caution when she's dealing with someone like Wednesday. She cannot place too much blame or point a finger—even the middle one, like she wants to.
If Enid is quiet enough, she can hear Wednesday sniffle, and good god does it almost have Enid scooping her up into her arms and telling her that she's all forgiven and they can start over again.
But she can't do that, because Wednesday did something terribly inappropriate and Enid isn't going to encourage such abhorrent behavior by placating her so easily.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Wednesday pathetically defends.
Enid's jaw tightens. "Cut the fucking shit, Wednesday."
Wednesday's entire body goes rigid, like a cat's tail sticking straight up. Her big eyes are suddenly rounder and filled with what Enid thinks might be genuine fear. She doesn't make any effort to move or stand up; she just sits there and looks up at Enid under wet eyelashes.
"I know you're Willa. I know that you've been watching all of my TikToks and commenting on my videos while pretending to be someone that doesn't exist so I wouldn't catch you in the act of stalking me. You knew about the snood all along because you've been watching me on a sock account," Enid says. "I'm kinda sickened by it, because I revealed very personal and intimate thoughts to someone I thought I could trust because I thought they didn't know me. But I don't want to fight or yell or make you feel like shit about it. I can tell that you already feel like shit. But I just want you to admit your fault so we can…move on. Or something like that, I guess."
Enid doesn't know what "moving on" would entail for Wednesday, and quite honestly, she doesn't want to know. She would rather go back in time, when she still had hope that Wednesday would be appreciative of her love language, than worry about moving on from this.
She misses the person she was two hours ago, even if that person was a little naive.
"I tried to encourage you," Wednesday says, her voice tight. She doesn't look Enid in the eye, which is a mildly worrying symptom of guilt or sickness from her. "I just wanted you to tell me. And you never did. No matter what I said or how many suggestions and ideas I gave you, you just wouldn't say it."
Enid sinks to the ground, not even concerned about how much dust and honey might dirty her outfit. She sits near Wednesday but makes a point not to get too close, keeping her hands neutral in her lap.
"What did you want me to say?" Enid asks, tilting her head.
"Don't play stupid with me or treat me like some sort of idiot, Enid," she mutters. "You confessed it to me when you didn't know it was me. And now that I am asking that you say it, you just cannot say it. I'm beginning to have my doubts. You know how much I despise doubt. Doubt is for weak people who fear consequences."
Enid hums. She's not trying to tease Wednesday, but that's just a pleasant side effect. Wednesday's lips are bluer than usual and her chin is wobbling. Enid yearns to take her into her arms and make it all better, to kiss some pinkness into her lips, to assure her that she meant every last word she typed. She yearns to hold Wednesday and promise her that she won't ever leave her side, that she'll be loyal to her until death does them part.
It's not that easy. Wednesday wanted to make this difficult, and so it is.
"I just want to know why you did it," Enid tells her, honest. "Why did you do it? Why go through all that when you could have told me the truth?"
Wednesday glares at her. "I could ask you the same thing."
Flinching, Enid nods. "I guess that's fair. But really. What even made you think to create a fake account?"
Wednesday doesn't respond for a minute, scowling at the dirt on her pants. Enid can see the cogs turning and the gears grinding.
"It wasn't a fake account," she says, lifting her head. "It was me. Well, that was my intent upon creating the stupid thing to begin with. I…was somewhat interested in viewing your videos, as much as I loathe the internet and am of the opinion that it stunts adolescent growth. I only wanted to see what kind of content you were posting and how much of it was revealing too much of your life. It was curiosity. Of course it killed the cat, as I would say."
Warmth blooms in Enid's chest. She smiles. "And then?"
"And then…" She gives a soft breath. "And then I saw how needlessly cruel strangers were being to you, and I was angry and wanted to do something about it. So I began insulting them in return to keep them away from you, and perhaps it worked, but then you messaged me to thank me, under the impression that I was a stranger, and I…"
"Took advantage," Enid completes.
To Enid's surprise, Wednesday nods in agreement.
"Yes. I took advantage," she says in earnest. "That was not my intention."
"But you still did it because you thought you could get something out of it," Enid replies, absently nodding her head. "And I guess you did get something out of it, at my expense."
"I'm…sorry."
The words are so quiet, they almost fall on deaf ears. Enid sits forward a little, now inches from Wednesday's face.
"What?"
Wednesday licks her lips, wavering. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, her face screwed up like she's in agony.
"I said, I am…" She swallows. "I am…" She exhales. "I am sorry. I am sorry that I took advantage of your naivety and lack of situational awareness on the internet. I am sorry that I refused to admit to my feelings for you and instead made you chase me in circles like the puppy you are."
It sounds like it's meant to be an insult, but it melts Enid's heart.
Enid rests a tentative hand on Wednesday's bony knee, rousing her attention. "I know you are sorry. And I want to forgive you."
"But?"
"But nothing," Enid continues. She sighs. "I'm so humiliated, Wednesday. I really am. I told you some really bad things that I shouldn't have even told a stranger, and I feel so dumb. I just didn't know what else to do. I tend to trauma dump and blow things out of proportion. I know I should've just told you how I felt instead of relying on what I thought was an internet stranger for advice. That's my fault for being such a baby about it and not telling you. But I'm still embarrassed and upset. When I realized it was actually you…I guess you can say I felt like an idiot for thinking that you were getting better at communicating with me."
She feels Wednesday's muscles tense under her hand. Big brown eyes meet hers, and this time, they're wet with overwhelm.
"I've already apologized for my mistake," Wednesday sharply says. "I cannot rectify or change it. Are you going to harp on it until you kill me with guilt? That would take an unbearably long time."
"Not really," replies Enid, shrugging. "I just…don't know what to do now. I mean, I didn't think the conversation would go this far. I really thought I was gonna get a knife to the throat by now."
"There's still time."
Enid laughs from the bottom of her belly. It's such a Wednesday thing to say, and she remembers why she fell in love with her to begin with.
"Did you mean everything you said?" Wednesday suddenly asks, sparing Enid no dignity. "Were you being sincere?"
"Yes. Well, I mean, the scissor sisters stuff—that was—I don't know—god, this is so embarrassing." Enid puts her hands on her cheeks. "Yes, I meant it all, okay? I like boobies. Your boobies. There. I said it. I can die now. Stab me in the most important artery now, okay?"
"Maybe later, when we are practicing foreplay."
"Okay—wait, what?"
Cold hands pull Enid's warm ones from her face. They're familiar and welcoming despite being so cold. Enid opens her eyes and finds Wednesday staring at her with that infinitely perfect look that makes Enid want to hold her tight and never let go of her even after all the atrocities she's committed.
"Perhaps I should have been more honest about my intentions," Wednesday tells her. "I am an Addams at heart and did not want to admit that I might be more alike my parents that I'd ever thought I would be, but if you want me to pour my entire heart out to you and tell you that you're an angel who fell from metaphorical heaven and landed at my feet, don't hold your breath. I'm not that kind of person."
Enid snorts. "Wow. Tell me how you really feel."
"Okay," Wednesday says. "I feel that you are a very intelligent, kind, warm-hearted person with only the purest of intentions and you'd never hurt anyone who did you no harm, and that makes me sick." She pauses, expression warming a degree. "But fortunately for you, I enjoy being mentally ill. I…I suppose that I…I love you, Enid."
Enid pulls her a little closer but doesn't go all the way. Not yet.
"You're so cute," she says. "I think you already know how I feel about you. Do I need to say it again?"
"No, but now that we have established that honesty is important…" Wednesday leans in, keeping her eyes focused on Enid. "I would very much like to kiss you. If you would like to."
"Come here, Willa," Enid says, finally tugging her close to her body by her pullover and pressing her lips to hers.
It's everything Enid desired and more. Wednesday is cold but soft, tense but welcoming, inexperienced but loving. The more she leans into the kiss, the more she understands how foolish she was not to do this sooner.
Wednesday pulls away first but doesn't move too far from Enid. One hand is still clutching Enid's sweater and the other drops from where it was cradling Enid's cheek.
"Don't ever call me Willa again," she warns. "Ever."
Enid smiles and brushes dark hair from Wednesday's face. "Can I call you babe?"
Wednesday hesitates, eyes flickering. She exhales softly.
"Don't push your luck."
And then Enid draws her in for another kiss and they're so wrapped up in it that they don't hear Thing sneaking out and scurrying away while he's still innocent.
—
And sometime later, while Wednesday is sleeping off the emotional high, Enid is sprawled out on her own bed, laying under an orange glow of fairy lights, trying to make sense of the evening and process the fact that her heart now belongs to Wednesday Addams and she didn't even have to finish writing that card that's still trapped under her laptop.
She's been thinking so hard and wondering so long, long enough to neglect the world she's created behind a screen; a world that strangers are counting on her to update them on.
She picks up her phone and, for the first time since being catapulted into a relationship, opens TikTok with every intention of rotting her brain until she falls asleep.
The first thing she notices is the flood of comments and likes and follows from her most recent afternoon vlog that has now gone viral with over a million views.
The second thing she notices is that user18996356001 has changed their username.
W.A.🕸️
The third thing she notices that W.A.🕸️ has sent her a message.
I love you, Enid.
I love you too Wednesday
She hears Wednesday's phone buzz across the room, and Wednesday stirs but doesn't wake, and Enid sighs contentedly, setting aside her phone and burying her head into a stuffed unicorn.
The last thing she thinks about, besides the fact that she's madly in love with Wednesday, is how she's going to tell her followers about this tomorrow.
Notes:Another work marked complete. We must be close to season 2.
Until next time. 🖤
Notes:I wanted this to be a super slow burn, but I only have time for a fast burn right now, so we're gonna speed this along without degrading the organic quality. Well, I hope so.
Formatting this is gonna be an absolute nightmare to deal with, so bear with me.
Let me know what you think!