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Enid can't sleep.
And, for once, it's not because of Wednesday's typewriter.
Enid checks her hot-pink digital clock and sighs when she sees that it reads 2:57 AM.
She's going to be so tired in her classes tomorrow. Well, today.
If only those werewolves weren't so dead set on making Enid's life at Nevermore a living hell. She can still hear their teasing bouncing around in her head, shrinking the little confidence she had in her status as a Lycan.
It's been keeping her up for days .
Even worse: Wednesday's started to notice.
Every time they walk to class together (re: every time Wednesday allows Enid to follow her to class), Enid sees the gloomy girl glare at every werewolf that walks by, even more than usual. While the way that they shrink into themselves and scurry in the other direction is really entertaining to see, it's done nothing but worsen the treatment they give her whenever Wednesday isn't there.
When she brought this up to Wednesday, she gladly (or, as gladly as Wednesday can manage) offered to "take care of them."
Enid can be a little dense, yeah, but she knows what that means. Despite the temptation, she will not be the reason why Wednesday gets expelled from Nevermore. Or put into jail. (Though she doubts the police would be able to catch her, anyways.)
So she had settled for the arrangement she was stuck in, despite how sucky it was.
Her stomach growls, mad at her for skipping dinner. She's reminded of the fact that she ran up to the dorm as soon as she saw a pack of werewolves sitting directly in front of the cafeteria doors. She was too drained to deal with whatever they were gonna say, so she decided that she might as well just go to bed early.
Which brings her here. Tired out of her mind, hungry enough to eat her own hand, and too overwhelmed by her thoughts to even think about going to sleep anytime soon.
Suddenly, she's reminded of some advice that Yoko gave her when she confided in her when she felt as if she couldn't go anywhere else. Yoko told her to think of what she likes and it might distract her enough to help her fall asleep.
And so, that's what she does.
She starts off by thinking of food – since that's at the forefront of her mind, obviously – and a memory pops into her brain.
Two weeks ago, Enid was finally able to drag Wednesday to her table in the cafeteria, forcing the girl to stop sitting all alone in the corner as if she's got some kind of contagious disease.
It wasn't exactly a… pleasant experience, having Wednesday with them, but she could confidently say it could have gone worse. In fact, not a single one of them got poisoned! Enid considers that a win in her book.
Not only that, but Enid could tell Wednesday was trying to be civil. She kept her threats to a minimum, toned down the intensity of her glares, and even piped up once or twice in conversation. Now, were her comments unsettling, and did they cause Ajax to lose his appetite? Yes to both. But it's progress.
Enid was strangely proud of the girl, as weird as that may seem. She knew that she must've put some kind of effort into it, which Enid appreciated immensely.
But what truly put the icing on the cake was a small, not even one-minute-long interaction they had during the lunch period.
Bianca had mentioned how the thing she hated most about the school was that their lunches were absolutely atrocious – a bit of an exaggeration, yeah, but mostly true – and that had segued into the topic of their favorite foods. Everyone had piped in with what theirs was until only Wednesday and Enid hadn't said anything.
Enid was eager to state that she loved food too much to truly pick a favorite, but if she was forced to, she'd have to pick pancakes. Everyone around the table nodded in agreement except for a couple who murmured that they enjoyed waffles more. But what caught Enid's attention was the slightly dumbfounded look on Wednesday's face.
"What are pancakes?" she had asked, which obviously gained multiple exclamations of disbelief from her tablemates.
"Did you… did you just ask what pancakes are?" Enid had responded.
"I have not ever heard of such a food before," Wednesday admitted, earning more gasps of disbelief. Enid saw Wednesday's shoulders become stiff – well, more so than they usually were – as everyone's judgment fell on her. Enid decided to extend an olive branch.
"Well, it's not exactly uncommon, I guess," she had started. "I didn't know what cheesecake was until I got here."
Her distraction had quickly succeeded, as the previous gasps at Wednesday's admission held no match to the disbelief angled at Enid for her words.
"You'd never had cheesecake before??" Someone had asked, and Enid smiled somewhat apologetically, but she had mostly been amused.
"Yeah, it's just something my family never had."
People nodded in understanding and surprisingly quickly moved onto the topic of what things their family did or didn't allow them to do or have as a child. Wednesday didn't say much more – though Enid's sure she could have outspoken the rest of them with how abnormal her family is.
The truly important part of this interaction came much later when they were back in their dorms getting ready for bed.
"You know," Wednesday had started, "I wouldn't mind trying pancakes sometime."
"Really??" Enid instantly responded.
"I suppose. I've always been one to try new things."
"I mean, yeah, but I thought that only applied to, like, torture methods."
A puff of air blew out of Wednesday's nose. "Well, those definitely aren't excluded."
"Noted," Enid had said. "Of both things."
And then they climbed into bed and fell asleep. An end to their pancake conversation, but Enid had promised herself that she'd find a way to get Wednesday some pancakes. What kind of roommate would she be if she didn't?
As Enid's mind went back to the present, she asked herself the following question:
What better time could there be to try pancakes for the first time than at 3 AM?
No time, she decides, climbing out of bed and nudging Wednesday awake.
—
Despite Enid knowing that she had to be very careful when it came to waking her roommate up, she ends up sporting a decently sized bruise on her shoulder from the grasp she had instantly been held in after waking Wednesday up.
But none of that mattered now, because they were in a taxi (whose driver seemed only somewhat suspicious of two girls climbing into their cab at 3 AM) on their way to Denny's: the closest restaurant that was both open 24/7 and sold pancakes sufficient enough for Wednesday's first try.
Enid is absolutely ecstatic. She doesn't bother hiding it, so it's not surprising when Wednesday huffs in slight annoyance.
"It baffles me how energetic you can be at such a late hour," the girl monotones, head facing forwards but looking at Enid out of the side of her eye.
"I can't help it! I can't believe you agreed to come!" Enid shimmies in her excitement. "Wait a minute, why did you agree to come?"
"I quite enjoy the outside world when it is late," Wednesday says, an almost melancholic tone adapting itself into her voice. Something about it draws Enid's attention, and she finds herself staring at the profile of Wednesday's face.
Her freckles kind of look like stars.
"Yeah?" Enid asks, prompting Wednesday to continue. It's rare, Wednesday sharing a piece of herself that doesn't involve gore or homicide or anything else that makes Enid feel like she's going to faint. She wants to take advantage of the moment while she still can.
Wednesday gives a thoughtful hum, slightly angling her head towards Enid as a means of addressing her, yet she does not meet Enid's eye. "It's nice," she says to the back of the taxi driver's car seat, "to be capable of observing one's surroundings while knowing there's no other being awake, eliminating the possibility of being bothered. Save for the creatures of the night, though they are rarely a nuisance."
Enid snorts. Wednesday's attention snaps to her.
"Did I say something humorous?"
"Yes- well, no, but if you were in my mind, it would be humorous, yes," Enid giggles.
Wednesday stares, seemingly unamused (but Enid sees the tiny sparkle of curiosity in her eyes, the way the corner of her lip twitches).
"Explain."
Enid's giggles have subsided, but a small grin takes their place. "You said the creatures of the night aren't a nuisance, yet you don't seem to mind reminding me how much of a problem I am on the daily."
Wednesday's eyes widen slightly before settling back into her usual blank stare. (But, if you asked Enid, there was something… different to be found in her gaze. Something softer.)
"You are not a problem, Enid. I apologize if my words have caused you to believe I think of you as one, for I do not."
Oh.
It takes Enid an almost embarrassingly long moment to process the words. She hadn't expected much more than for Wednesday to sigh and give a dry yet witty remark, as what she said was just a bit of teasing. Yet the genuity laced in Wednesday's words punched her in the stomach, rousing the butterflies that were laying in wait inside.
(For fuck's sake, Enid thinks she's gotten over her stupid crush on the Addams girl until she goes and says something abnormally kind, or thoughtful, or endearing – something like that . And then she's suddenly drowning again.)
Enid's saved from having to stumble her way through a reply by the big yellow sign reading Denny's she sees outside of Wednesday's window. Wednesday seems to notice that Enid's attention has been stolen and she turns to look out her window, noticing the sign for herself.
"We're here," states the taxi driver, pulling into the parking lot.
Enid's the first to get out of the car, nearly tripping over herself in her scramble to escape the sudden tension that had fallen over them. She's standing outside the taxi as she watches Wednesday lean forward and pay the driver before she exits the car as well.
Enid moves to be at Wednesday's side, and they stand there in the Denny's parking lot for a moment as Wednesday watches the taxi drive away, and Enid watches Wednesday.
It's at that moment that Enid decides that yes, Wednesday's freckles do look like stars, and she'd give anything to touch them, to connect them with the caress of her finger as if she were forming constellations on Wednesday's cheeks. In fact, her hand twitches with the urge to do just that, and it takes a great deal of Enid's willpower to convince it to simply reach out for the other girl's hand.
"Let's go get you some pancakes," she says with a smile holding so many emotions, Enid's surprised Wednesday doesn't recoil at the sight.
Instead, Wednesday looks down at Enid's offered hand for a moment, as if deliberating the pros and cons of taking it. In the end, the pros must outweigh the cons, as Enid finds herself walking hand-in-hand with Wednesday towards the doors of the restaurant.
(And the idea of pancakes – the whole reason why they're there, mind you – completely slips her mind at the feeling of Wednesday's surprisingly warm palm against her own.)
—
They enter the restaurant and Enid's not surprised that a quick survey of the space tells her that they and a group of probably too drunk college students are the only customers in the whole place. Enid feels herself relax as a brick of anxiety is lifted off of her shoulders. She was already feeling rattled at how Wednesday had rendered her speechless, so she definitely didn't need any strangers being witness to the inevitable embarrassment she was to make of herself tonight.
An older woman with a kind smile approaches them and asks if they'd rather sit at a table or a booth. Wednesday glances at Enid as if asking her to choose, and so she tells the woman – whose name is Maisel, according to her name tag – that they'd like to sit in a booth. Maisel nods and turns to guide them to where they'll be sitting.
Enid takes a seat and watches as Wednesday goes to sit across from her. Before she can fully sit down, Maisel says, "I'd suggest you sit with your friend, dearest. You might get cold, facing the door like that." Wednesday frowns but obliges, moving to sit next to Enid instead.
Maisel says something about getting them menus, but all Enid registers is the wink she gave her after Wednesday sat down.
Had she done that on purpose so Wednesday would be next to her? Surely not. But Enid can't help but realize it wasn't very cold outside at all, and there probably won't be many people opening the door, so there wouldn't be much air coming in anyways.
Maybe she was just being friendly to get a good tip, Enid justifies.
But then why did she wink at Enid as if she knew something she didn't?
Enid's pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Wednesday clearing her throat quietly. She looks up to see Wednesday offering her a menu that she must've gotten from Maisel, who's standing next to their booth. She quickly accepts it with a quiet apology.
"Is there anything I can get you two to drink?" Maisel asks, a knowing smile on her face. Knowing of what, Enid doesn't know.
Enid bites her lip before she says, "I'll have a sprite cranberry."
"A water, please," Wednesday says.
Maisel nods. "I'll be back to take your orders soon."
Enid sets down her menu without looking at it, already knowing what she wants. She looks over at Wednesday, who seems to be appraising her own menu, squinting at the small print.
"These dishes are chock-full of sugar, Enid," she says, distaste clear in her voice. "God forbid I eat one of them and I end up as sweet as you."
While Enid is sure Wednesday hadn't meant for her words to come off as a compliment – or at least not entirely – Enid feels heat spread to her cheeks at the hidden meaning.
She thinks Enid's sweet.
Enid gathers herself and puts a smile on her face. "Don't worry, most of it comes from the toppings. Since this is your first time, I think you should just get the basic pancake platter,” enid explains.
“Yes, that sounds wise.” Wednesday folds her menu and places it down on the table. “What will you be ordering?”
Enid grins gleefully as she points to an image on the menu. “The cinnamon roll pancake breakfast! It’s my absolute favorite.”
Wednesday leans over (Enid can smell her shampoo) to look at where she’s pointing. Her eyebrows raise just slightly as the corner of her lip ticks upwards in amusement.
“Those certainly look as if they’d be your favorite,” Wednesday comments, moving back to her personal space. Her shoulder brushes against Enid’s as she moves and she sucks in a breath.
It takes Enid a second to process… well, everything before she says, “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it! It’s actually really good. You just gotta eat it slowly, or else you get a stomach ache.”
“I’d rather lose my sharpest scalpel than eat a bite of that, thank you kindly.”
“Aw, c’mon!” Enid whines. “I bet I could get you to try it.”
Wednesday glances at her and Enid catches the glint of a challenge in her eyes. “Do you, now?”
Enid pauses, not really expecting Wednesday to take the bait, but she decides to just run with it. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Alright, then.”
Enid’s saved from having to respond when Wednesday’s attention turns to Maisel, who’s approaching the table with their drinks in hand. She places them on the table and takes out her notepad before asking what they’d like to eat. Enid asks for the cinnamon roll pancakes and Wednesday asks for a stack of pancakes. Maisel nods and scribbles their orders onto her notepad before she gives them a smile – the one directed at Enid a little bit wider – and walks off in the direction she came from.
“Do you know her?” Wednesday asks, because of course she noticed their waitress’s behavior differences, despite how minimal they were.
Enid chokes on her sprite. “I– No, I don’t. Why?”
Wednesday tilts her head slightly. Enid feels as if Wednesday knows she’s feigning ignorance and accepts it. “No particular reason.”
“Okay.”
“So…” Wednesday starts, and Enid can tell that she’s not used to leading conversations if the way her finger taps a couple of times against her lap is anything to go by, “do you happen to have other foods you especially enjoy?”
“I do!” Enid exclaims eagerly, launching into an explanation of her favorite desserts and childhood snacks. She frequently gets sidetracked, ending up telling stories connected to the foods, but Wednesday sits and listens all the same. Does she ponder how someone could talk so long about food? Yes, yes she does. But nonetheless, she makes comments when appropriate and she answers the questions Enid asks her. And, she finds, she enjoys it quite a bit.
They’re both surprised when Maisel approaches them with their food as it seems as if barely five minutes had passed since they placed their order. A glance at the clock tells Wednesday otherwise, and she considers what it means that she enjoyed speaking with Enid to such an extent that time seemed to pass by that quickly.
Maisel sets down their plates and tells them to yell if they need anything before walking away briskly. Enid looks down at her pancakes with glee written across her face and Wednesday can’t help but find it endearing, despite the fact that she can practically feel her tastebuds shrivelling up at the mere sight of her meal.
Wednesday’s attention turns to her own plate and she finds that she only feels slightly different about it than how she feels about Enid’s. Truly, the only difference is that there’s a gracious lack of toppings, which immediately sets her at ease. Despite this, they still appear much too fluffy to not be too sugary for Wednesday’s tastes, so she simply stares, unable to think of a solution.
When Enid glances at her in questioning – cheeks full of pancake and egg – Wednesday hesitantly picks up her knife and begins to cut into the substance before her. She makes a tiny sliver of pancake – hopefully too small for her to taste it – and manages to pierce it with her fork. She lifts the fork to her mouth and eats it, chewing extremely slowly.
She’s extremely surprised to note that it isn’t all that bad. If Wednesday were less prideful, she would even say that it was rather good, but that’s asking a lot of her.
Ignoring Enid’s gaze burning into the side of her face, she cuts up another piece of pancake – this one slightly larger – and eats it as well.
“So?” Enid questions. “How is it?”
“It’s fine,” Wednesday states, and the wide grin on Enid’s face really isn’t warranted at all, she thinks.
“Oh my god, you totally like it, don’t you?”
“Don’t put words into my mouth, Enid.”
“You sure seem to like putting pancake in your mouth.” Enid stifles her laughter against her wrist at Wednesday’s disgruntled expression.
“I’ve eaten two pieces,” Wednesday justifies.
“That’s two more than I expected.”
Wednesday stays silent.
Enid huffs. “Oh, c’mon. Just admit that you like it and I’ll leave you alone, promise.”
Wednesday glares, but sighs in defeat. “Fine. I like it,” she admits. “Are you satisfied now?”
“Very.” Enid grins before returning to her food as promised.
They spend the next fifteen or so minutes in a comfortable silence, only interrupted a few times by comments from Enid and Wednesday’s brief replies. It’s nice, Wednesday thinks, and immediately asks herself when she started thinking that spending time with Enid was nice. She finds that she can’t come up with a specific date, as if the girl had grown on her over time, like vines on a tree. Wednesday isn’t sure whether she likes that or not, but she can accept it.
Enid’s plate is nearly cleared when she lifts her fork to Wednesday’s mouth instead of her own. “Open,” she instructs, but any force behind her words is eliminated by the grin on her face.
Wednesday considers the possibility of fighting back, of making Enid work for her compliance, but she decides that she’d like to avoid a fight tonight (despite how exhilarating they can be), so she does as Enid asks. Enid looks surprised at Wednesday’s lack of opposition, but the expression is quickly replaced by one full of excitement, as if Wednesday’s reaction holds the potential to decide the trajectory of her life.
She quickly accepts the offered food and sits back to chew. She doesn’t miss the way Enid’s gaze seems to be glued to her lips, as if she’s searching for the smallest indicator of Wednesday’s level of enjoyment.
Which, unfortunately, is rather high.
Wednesday is slightly embarrassed to say that she officially enjoys pancakes – so she doesn’t.
“Too sweet for you?” Enid asks, the teasing look on her face showing that she already knows the answer to her question.
“No,” Wednesday mutters, “it’s alright.”
Enid laughs. “You totally have a sweet tooth.”
“I suppose I might,” she finds herself admitting.
For a reason that’s beyond Wednesday at the moment, the pleased smile on Enid’s face makes it worth it.
—
Somehow, the next thirty minutes finds them sitting on a curb in the Denny’s parking lot. They really should be getting a cab to take them back to Nevermore – the longer they’re out the more likely Weems will find out – but something about the moment they’ve found themselves encompassed in is comforting enough for neither of them to want to exit it quite yet. And so they wait for the moment to pass naturally, Wednesday sitting with her legs crossed and Enid with hers sprawled out in front of her, a comfortable silence surrounding them.
Enid startles slightly when Wednesday says, “I appreciate you asking me to do this.”
Enid blinks before replying, “Of course. I’ll always want to spend time with you, Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s silent for a moment, and Enid’s afraid she might’ve been a little too honest with her words. But then Wednesday turns to face her, eyebrows drawn together in thought.
“Really?” she asks, and Enid feels something solidify in her chest as she truly thinks about her answer to the question.
“Yeah,” she says, looking out into the parking lot. “I like being your friend, Wednesday. Even though it can be hard sometimes, I can tell that you’re actually a really good person despite what a lot of people like to say. They don’t know what they’re talking about at all, and you deserve a lot better.”
Enid looks back to Wednesday and she can’t help but notice the way the look in her eyes shifts. It kind of reminds her of the look Wednesday got whenever she connected one clue to another when she was working on the Hyde case.
Wednesday frowns slightly as her gaze travels down Enid’s face before it eventually stays in one place. She's about to ask if Wednesday is okay, but she's interrupted by the other girl's arm lifting up to Enid's face. Wednesday's hand hesitates ever so slightly before she swipes her thumb gently on the corner of Enid's mouth, retracting directly afterward.
A tiny, mouse-like squeak exits Enid's lips as a light blush covers her cheeks.
Enid finds that, for some god-awful reason, her eyes refuse to be torn away from Wednesday's dark ones, as if she'd miss something were she to look away. However, all she sees is the normal blank look-
Wait.
Did Wednesday just...
Smile?
Enid swears she did. It was only there for a split second, but it was there. It was there, and Enid got to see it.
It was...
Cute.
And very Wednesday. Enid figures that anyone who saw it would be able to decipher that she doesn't smile often, with the way that it seemed to be almost foreign to the rest of the features of her face.
(Enid thinks that makes it all the more endearing.)
"What's wrong with you." Wednesday interrupts Enid's thoughts, and Enid realizes that her mouth has been ajar this entire time.
"You- uh."
"Spit it out, Sinclair."
"You smiled."
Wednesday's eyes narrow marginally. "Come again?"
"You- you wiped something off of my lip and then you smiled."
"Preposterous."
"What??"
Is she making up words to avoid admitting to the truth?
"I did no such thing."
Enid blinks. "Yes, you did!"
"I removed some of that sickeningly sweet substance from the side of your mouth because you looked ridiculous," Wednesday confirmed, "but I most certainly did not smile."
"Liar."
"If anyone present is a liar, it would be you, Sinclair."
Enid gasps in horror. Her, a liar?? Enid prides herself on her tendency to be honest, no matter the situation. It's a very important trait for a blogger.
"I am no such thing! I'm the most honest person you've met!"
"If you're so honest, answer me a question."
What? A question? "Fine. What is it?"
"Why do you look at me like that?"
Now where the fuck did that come from?
"Li-like what?"
"Like you want to... to do something to me."
"I- what?? That's so- Why would I-"
"Enid."
Honesty. Right.
Enid turns her attention away from Wednesday, instead inspecting the peeling red paint of a car in the parking lot.
Is Enid seriously about to confess her love for Wednesday in a Denny's parking lot?
She looks back to Wednesday and sees something unusual in her eyes, something she can only remember seeing once on that awful night that was instantly made better when they hugged.
It was vulnerability.
Welp.
Looks like Enid's seriously about to confess her love for Wednesday in a Denny's parking lot.
She closes her eyes, takes a deep, grounding breath, and opens her mouth to speak.
But before anything can come out of her mouth, Wednesday interrupts with, "If you want to kill me so bad you could've just said so."
What?
" What? " Enid asks, eyebrows shooting toward the moon.
"I told you," Wednesday says as if her words shouldn't require any explanation at all, "you look at me like you want to do something to me. What else would you want to do other than kill me?"
Jesus fucking christ.
This girl was going to be the death of her.
(But definitely not in the way Wednesday had in mind).
Enid sighs. "I don't want to kill you, Wednesday."
Wednesday looks more confused than Enid's ever seen her. That's not saying a lot, really, but Enid deems it notable.
"Then what is it that-"
"I want to kiss you."
Fucking hell, Enid. The tiny possibility of romance just flew out the metaphorical window.
" What."
It's too late to backtrack. There's no other option but to embrace it.
"I mean, yeah, who wouldn't want to kiss you? Well, there's probably a lot of people," – okay, in hindsight, maybe she should've thought about her words more because that's not exactly the best start, but she can fix it – "but that's just because they're scared of you 'cause they don't see you the way I do, or see the way you secretly care about people, or the fact that you're not as scary as you look, but if they did see you how I do they would totally want to kiss you, too, I think, 'cause you're just so-"
Whatever Enid was about to say next turns into another, even more embarrassing squeak as the feeling of soft lips against her own registers in her overwhelmed brain.
While the sensation only lasts a second – two, at most – Enid is sure that it's the best thing she's ever experienced.
The pressure against her lips vanishes and Enid processes the loss as her eyes fly open.
What greets her is Wednesday.
Wednesday Addams, the most emotionless yet passionate person Enid's ever met, the girl who seemed to hate her since day one yet was always by her side, the most fascinatingly beautiful creature she's seen in her entire life.
“I like being your friend too, Enid,” Wednesday says, clearly meaning something else, but Enid finds that she likes her wording just fine.