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Wednesday was at a loss and that's not something she would ever willingly admit. She was calculated, insightful, witty, and above all else, she was no fool.
She's always known she wasn't exactly at her peer's level, she was always surpassing them academically. Her nose would be buried deep within a book as her eyes would scan smoothly, never hesitating and never second-guessing a word. Knowledge is something so addictive to Wednesday, it fills her starving mind and keeps her occupied. Knowledge is also power, and next to torture and violence, Wednesday craves power.
Education was easy. Her old school, the Normie school, that word still leaves an awful taste in her mouth, was almost like a warm-up for her most days. Wednesday just understood all the mindless subjects she was forced to sit through. She never wavered, and always excelled, she was, simply speaking, an intelligent girl.
Then it would all come to reason that, she understood everything. Nothing should ever trick her, make her brain pause, and never make her doubt herself.
And yet, an opponent did stand toe-to-toe with her. An opponent that stood firm in everything, that never faltered, that was more of a mystery than herself.
Emotions.
Wednesday understood them, at an academic level, she knew she had them. She could feel the sparks inside her head whenever her father pats her back. They rumble inside her stomach, flipping her dinner when her mother hugs her tightly. It all pricks at her eyes if she thinks too long about the loving pet she lost long ago. It also painfully tugs and pulls in her chest as a certain Lycan stares at her for a brief moment too long.
It's all there but, Wednesday knows she's different and she doesn't just mean outward. Her appearance never bothered her in the slightest, but within her mind, the chemicals just...feel so wrong.
Muted. Almost like a television with no sound, but the captions are still on. The picture is rolling, everything continues on and the dialog is there to read easily, but you just can't hear it. You can know an actor is talking, but you might not know their voice. You don't know how they speak, the influx in tone, the accent, or even the volume of their speech.
Emotions are muted–possibly muffled for Wednesday. At least, that's the only way she can interpret them. She feels them quietly in her head, but they are only shown as captions. She reads them, she knows what to feel and, she does! But she never takes the television off of mute. She hasn't since she was young and unable to turn down the volume. Once she finally found the dial, she never looked back. And she believes it will always be like this. A life with captions.
But, no matter how much she tries to contain it, her television still has volume and only a few things ever turn the volume up.
Wednesday is, unfortunately, painfully, fully aware that she's...touch-starved. She had to choke down that terrible realization once she reached out to hug her annoyance of a roommate one faithful evening. The hug wasn't anything grand or special, it was, well, a hug. A normal interaction that most people do daily throughout their lives. But–
God. The electricity she felt ignited her system, those goosebumps left in the aftermath of it all. It was all so overwhelming and every single sound on her television was turned up to the max at that moment. It confirmed her dreadful suspicions instantly.
Touch-starved. The thought alone makes her want to feed herself to Uncle Fester's vulture. Why. Why must she, no, her mind, crave something as affectionate as touch? Just to despise her, make her suffer more, and not even in a fun way. No this, is true torture for Wednesday.
And, of course, the other despicable nuisance that ignores Wednesday’s closed captions, looks like a rainbow exploded on her.
Pathetic on Wednesday’s part.
Her body normally hums to life anytime someone touches her. The tingles drip down her spine, her head reels with the whispers of emotions, and her insides flare up with warmth. She knows this, she feels it, but with Enid-
With Enid, it feels like someone stole the whole remote. Laughing as they left the television on full volume, leaving Wednesday to struggle and fumble around to mute it again.
Enid Sinclair is just so–
Insufferable, obnoxious, tiresome, loathsome, and just so, so, so…colorful.
Not only are her clothes bright and lively, but her smile stretches across her rose-tinted face, always revealing a straight row of blinding teeth. Those absurdly blue eyes always twinkle with mirth and something almost mischievous. Her eyes always seem to hold a secret within them, and it always irks her to no end. And when her blinding smile reaches her intense eyes? It’s a solar eclipse.
It seems so cliche to even say that she genuinely lights up any room she waltzes into. Her infectious laughter is close behind and it bounces off any space, filling the room with it. The sound may cause others elation, but It all just taunts Wednesday’s mind relentlessly. She has to be subjected to Enid’s laughter for most of her day. Not only in classes, which they share a fair amount but even in their shared room. It’s not only her laughter that she can’t seem to escape.
But, Enid in general.
Despite their constant bickering, the vapid girl always seems to gravitate back to Wednesday consistently. One moment they’ll be arguing over Enid’s terrible music blaring on her laptop, the next, Enid will be sitting on the floor leaning up against Wednesday’s bed, mindlessly on her phone. No matter how many death threats, Enid will still seek her out at lunch and take a seat across from her with no hesitation.
To make it all even more infuriating, Enid Sinclair, of all people, takes up space in Wednesday’s mind. Her twisted, dark mind has been infected by some ‘Kpop,’ social media obsessive, pastel lunatic. There is no escape for Wednesday both physically and mentally. There is also no escape from her emotions being turned up to full force. No more captions, now she has to hear them, to feel them fully, and if Wednesday is being honest,
She’s scared of it all.
No– not scared, perhaps apprehensive? Nervous? Maybe–
She releases a whisper of a groan as the headache forms. Her time of self-reflecting is put on pause as she adjusts in her bed again. She rubs over her forehead and tries to tune out the soft music coming from the other side of the room. There wouldn’t be any noise if she wasn’t manipulated by her roommate.
“Addams, PLEASE. I beg you–and I know how much you love it when people grovel. Please, let me just listen to TayTay’s album tonight without my headphones!” She had done that thing again, sticking out her bottom lip and watery eyes. It was pathetic and childish. It angered Wednesday and made her want to smother Enid with one of her thousands of pillows. She hated that look. It was so wretched and entirely too soft. Anyone else, Wednesday would gladly ignore them and not have a second thought about it.
But, Enid just somehow turns off those captions.
Her teeth grind and she struggled to keep the roaring in her chest at bay. The way Enid stared at her, those incredibly blue eyes are one of the only things that waver her. Her heart started to burn as fire exploded through her. She was just thankful Uncle Fester taught her a breathing technique for if she was ever tortured. Cause this was it.
And she caved. She gave into Enid and her idiotic face and now her ears have to suffer through, Taylor Swift.
Although she can't say the noise is horrible, perhaps she has just grown a tolerance for it, but it's not altogether bad. She can’t really complain about the sound, Enid was nice enough to have it playing at a very low volume.
Another tired sigh escapes and Wednesday makes the foolish decision to cast her gaze over to the other bed. Enid is a disaster of a human, Wednesday has come to discover. Not only with her diet but with her sleep as well. The covers are disheveled, pillows thrown about, and the girl lays with limbs twisted and hanging off every which way. If there’s one thing Wednesday does appreciate is Enid could sleep through a whole War.
But, Wednesday is still respectful and she slowly sits up, her own frame creeks as she shifts. Enid doesn’t even twitch at the noise.
Wednesday has never minded staring at people, she likes locking her judgmental eyes on someone and making them feel uncomfortable. She gets a rush of euphoria anytime someone shies away from her or tells her the classic “What are you looking at, freak?”
But, she has no reason to be staring at Enid right this instance. She’s asleep, totally unaware of Wednesday, and yet, she stares. She still feels nauseated by Enid’s half of the window, but the way the colors illuminate Enid’s ivory skin is mesmerizing. The pink tint warms her face, while the blue dances around and sharpens her bone structure. The yellows add just enough that it highlights and pulls it all together. Wednesday doesn’t want to dwell on the fact that not even the best painters in history could capture this moment.
Disgusting.
She screws her eyes shut as she tries to choke back down the vile building up in her throat. The captions are coming off and Wednesday hurries up and out of the room and to the balcony.
The cold nips at her face, but the breeze is a nice change from the suffocating room. She does curse herself for not grabbing her coat, but she decides she won’t stay out long. Just enough to get herself back together and to have a moment away from–
Her ears pick up the soft padding from another pair of feet. She’ll never be able to escape. Always attached to her, like a parasite. Slowly killing her from the inside. God, doesn’t that sound wonderful.
“Hey,” comes out the raspy welcome. Enid takes a second to clear her throat before appearing at Wednesday’s side. “Sorry, I heard the door closed and thought you were out looking for the monster by yourself, again .” There’s a bit of edge to her voice and Wednesday knows Enid’s frustration with Wednesday constantly putting herself in danger. She doesn’t quite understand her concern; death and danger aren’t issues, but Wednesday has learned to respect it because it’s important to Enid.
She’s gone soft.
“As much as I desire to wander off into the nighttime and, hopefully, find another grotesque scene, I’m quite sure my sleep-deprived state would not par up with the creature.” Enid giggles and Wednesday will never understand how the girl finds everything she says to be funny.
“Do you ever just, like, say things simply?” She quirks an eyebrow before leaning up against the railing.
Wednesday adverts her eyes, Enid’s own looking like two crystal pools in the moonlight. The sight of them caused that tug in her chest once more. “I have an extensive vocabulary, why would I not use it to my full capacity? At least I’m not using some asinine filler words such as like. ” She snips out, but Wednesday can’t help but notice there wasn’t nearly as much venom in her tone as usual.
Enid laughing at her certainly doesn’t help either. Wednesday just insulted her. She made a remark about her intelligence and Enid brushed it off as a joke. She’s both fascinating and brain-dead.
She risks it and glances back at Enid. She’s a bit surprised that Enid is already staring at her, a wide toothy grin in place with that twinkle in her eyes.
“Like, Addams, like, that’s, like, so, like, rude, like.” Wednesday will never know peace anymore.
“You were put on this earth to torture me.”
Of course, Enid fires back, never missing a step with their dance. “Well, that shouldn't be a problem, don’t you like torture?” Something close to a smile pulls at Wednesday’s lips. She can feel the edges curl up and she detests that Enid can probably see it. Curse her Lycan night sight.
Not particularly this kind. She thinks of saying it, but Wednesday can just see a can of worms being opened with that statement.
“Wow, is that a smile, Addams? Guess you do like me after all.”
“I was just envisioning the way your body would be mangled, twisted, and unrecognizable if you fell over the balcony. Along with the cracking of your bones and how they would pierce through your flesh while your wails of pain would echo out into the night.”
“You have envisions of me? I’m touched.”
‘I'll be getting over you my whole life’
Of course, Enid couldn’t leave the room without that blasted cell phone. The universe surely hates her as this insufferable song plays softly. Wednesday blows a breath out through her nose, she wishes she could disappear into the air as her breath does.
“You doing alright, Wednesday?” Enid asks with her voice no louder than Ms. Swift’s in the background. She could just play it off and pretend she didn’t hear, but Wednesday makes another rookie mistake. The question was asked in a rare sincere tone from Enid that Wednesday actually turned her head.
Wednesday would never admit it, but under Enid’s eyes, filled with honesty and genuine concern, she feels like the prey for once. She wants to claw her eyes out and she looks away. She, her, Wednesday Addams, couldn’t handle being studied under Enid’s gaze for a second longer. It made Wednesday want to be, honest–brutally honest in fact. She could feel it bubbling up inside of her and threatening to spill out her mouth. Some awful, embarrassing truth was begging to be released.
‘Uh oh, I’m falling in love’
The volume seems to rise and Wednesday doesn’t know if she’s referring to the song.
“Obviously, yes. There’s a crazed, blood-thirsty monster on the loose, bodies are dropping, and I’m close to solving everything since these imbeciles of a Sheriff’s department can’t. I couldn’t be doing any better.” She says flawlessly, with no waver in tone, she doesn’t give anything away.
“Liar.”
Oh, for crying out loud!
“Fine. Choose to believe what you want, Sinclair. I know myself and I know how I feel.” Wednesday snaps out. For Enid’s sake, she hopes the girl can sense the bite in her words. This is the end of the discussion as far as Wednesday is concerned.
Enid pushes off the railing and chooses to fully face Wednesday. Her head tilted just the slightest. “You didn’t look at me. You look away when you lie–”
“Incorrect. I have no tails.” She interrupts because who is Enid Sinclair to point out anything about her? Enid doesn’t know Wednesday at all. Wednesday wouldn’t allow that to happen right under her nose.
Enid takes a small step closer and if Wednesday was a snake, she would be rattling right now.
She hums. “Wrong. If you let me finish, I was going to say, you look away when you lie but want to be honest.” Her voice is soft but deliberate. Wednesday senses this will only end one of two ways. Either Wednesday needs to spit back words filled with razors and venom or–
“You torture me.” Wednesday’s voice is quiet, not exactly soft, it isn’t as confident as it was earlier. She slowly turns her head towards Enid, a flash of frustration streaks across her eyes.
Wednesday has chosen option two.
Enid’s eyebrows furrow and she lets out a humorless chuckle. “We already established this and you like torture–”
“Not particularly this kind.”
“What kind?”
Her own heartbeat actually pounds in her ears as Enid locks eyes with hers. Wednesday can’t stand the way Enid looks back and forth between her left and right eye. Searching for the response that Wednesday has yet to formulate.
By now, her emotions are in full force in her mind. Yelling and begging her to express them, to finally let them be heard and not just read on closed captions.
“You–” Wednesday hesitates. She hesitates. She does not hesitate.
Enid’s eyes begin to shine with something bright and hopeful. “I what, Wednesday?”
‘Oh no, I’m falling in love, again’
Enid is close, far too close, and her scent is fogging Wednesday’s mind. Strawberries and something sweet, some kind of Hostess snack, invades her nose, and starts to shut down her rational thoughts.
“You…”
Her bottom lip trembles as her chest begin to tighten. Her heart slams against her ribcage while scorching lava pulses through her veins. The television is gone and her emotions are running rampant through her now, the most Wednesday has ever felt in a while. It’s so overwhelming, all of these emotions that she doesn’t have a name for. She can’t process them quickly enough and without the captions, she doesn’t know how to react.
She knows something has changed as Enid’s face morphs into watery eyes and worry etches itself to her features.
“Wednesday…”
A single tear spills over Wednesday’s face, leaving a burning pain in its path.
Wednesday is at an all-time loss. She’s confused by each emotion screaming at her. It’s all too much and her body is trying to express it for her. The tears that are filling her eyes are trying to let out these demanding emotions. She can’t function anymore, she just can’t voice what she is feeling and it makes her feel–
Stupid.
‘Oh, I’m falling in love’
Wednesday is a writer. She’s a lover of words, words never disappoint her or leave her. They are all that she wants and desires. But, at this moment, they fail her.
Enid goes to speak again and Wednesday acts before it’s too late. She lunges forward and she gets slight joy out of the fear that flashes in Enid’s eyes. But, the electricity she feels from their lips connecting far beats it out.
It’s rough at first, Wednesday did smash herself into Enid after all. But, Enid never misses a beat when it comes to them. She kisses back instantly, softly and it sends sparks shooting off in the back of Wednesday’s head. A rush of chills cascades down her body just as her lungs begin to burn.
She pulls back and sees that Enid still has her eyes closed, a blush coating her entire face. Wednesday prays her own face isn’t as flush but the warmth coming off of her says otherwise.
Enid’s eyes flutter open and Wednesday feels her stomach flip horribly. Her hand reaches out without her consent and grabs Enid’s own. She won’t admit the butterflies she gets as Enid intertwines their fingers. And you would certainly have to torture it out of her that she gets a dump of euphoria as Enid’s thumb gently rubs over Wednesday’s hand.
“You like me.” It isn’t a question in the slightest, but it isn’t said as an arrogant statement. Enid almost whispers it out, with wonderment wrapped in her voice. It gives Wednesday a boost in confidence.
“Obviously. Well, now you unfortunately know and now I can finally get a full night’s rest.” She goes to walk away, but Enid keeps a strong grip and keeps her in place.
“I was keeping you up at night, Addams?” A Cheshire grin fills her face. “Wow, I’m beyond flattered.”
God, why does she like her?
“More like you plagued my thoughts, yes.” This time, Enid lets her walk away, dropping their hands. Before she can retreat back in, Enid speaks back up and it halts Wednesday’s stride.
“I like you too, Wednesday.” There goes her heart again. She’s going to need to see a doctor before daylight.
She chokes down whichever emotion was clawing up her throat, she can’t do another breakdown. She silently reaches her hand back out and feels at ease once she feels a warm hand. She takes a quick glance at Enid and her heart goes into overtime with how Enid looks at her.
It’s the same look her parents give each other.
“Does this mean I get to wear your oversized and oh-so-warm-looking jacket?”
“Don’t push it, Sinclair.”