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When Enid first started showing signs of psychic abilities, it was with a huge, collective sigh of relief.
Her family was reassured that she wouldn’t be the one to break the long line of psychics her family produced, since she was almost past the highest age most psychics develop them, and she was grateful she could finally be normal and no longer be the family disappointment.
But then she presented as a Dove, and she became the family disappointment all over again.
On the psychic spectrum, there are five main types: Eagles, Ravens, Owls, Magpies, and Doves.
Eagles believe honesty to be more important than anything else, so they’re able to sense the strengths and weaknesses of anyone they meet, and can always tell when someone’s lying. They’re the rarest type of psychic in the world. Enid’s oldest brother is one; that’s why he’s their mom’s favorite.
Ravens tend to have a very negative view of the world, affecting their visions to be of negative future and past events, but making their visions more powerful and coherent too. Enid’s mom’s a Raven, something that makes immediate sense to anyone who meets her.
Owls are very pragmatic and sensible, not allowing their emotions to affect their decision-making, so they’re able to sense the wisest course of action when faced with any type of problem. The more powerful ones are even able to use telekinesis. Her dad and third older brother are Owls. Every day, Enid wonders what “wisdom” guided her dad to marry her mom, one of the most unlikeable women on the planet, when he himself is one of the most quietly sweet people she’s ever met.
Magpies have an almost unhealthy preoccupation with collecting whatever shiny thing catches their eye, making them the go-to for people looking for lost things. Magpies just always instinctively know where to find them. Her other two brothers are Magpies, and they take great joy in using that as an excuse to steal her stuff. Obviously, her mom lets them get away with it so long as it’s only Enid they’re stealing from. “Magpies just can’t help themselves, Enid. You would understand if you were one.” She always says when Enid complains.
Doves, in contrast to all the others, tend to have an overwhelmingly positive disposition. They see the world as a bright and vibrant place, crammed full of opportunities. Because of this, Doves see visions of positive and fortunate things. Enid would think this was a good thing, but a Dove’s visions are considered to be the least reliable, since too often they’re tinged by wishful thinking and hopeful desires.
So Doves don’t take priority in Enid’s family.
For her mom and brothers (and uncles and aunts and cousins), only very powerful Doves can see anything of use, but powerful Doves are rare, and her powers are rather weak.
Because of this, her family hasn’t given her a lot of training in order to properly control her visions. Her dad has certainly tried, but he doesn’t see visions. He only senses things in the present and can’t take glimpses into the past or future.
She usually only sees vague glimpses of things from the future or past without any context to differentiate between the two.
But this time is different.
After spending two hours decorating her half of the room at Ophelia Hall, the day before the semester will officially begin, she finds herself in front of the creepy spider web window, wondering how she can make it less… well, creepy .
She steps forward to get a better idea of designs she could add to it, maybe using her large collection of colorful tape, but the moment she touches a pane of its glass, her head throws itself back and she’s blasted into a vision.
The closest way she can describe the feeling is being struck by lightning before floating on a soft, cool cloud for however long her vision lasts, left with a lingering headache and the feeling of cotton being shoved into her skull for a few hours afterwards.
Most of the time, the visions are only a series of flashes- images, sounds, smells, sensations- with no sense of rhyme or reason.
This one is no different, except for two things.
One: she somehow instinctively knows that all of it is connected to the person she’ll be living with for the semester.
Two: the random glimpses are more powerful and vivid than any she’s ever had before.
“Should we go meet your new roommate?-”
A pale figure in dark clothing-
“Enid, how much do you know about werewolves?-”
Twin raven-black braids dangling next to a face Enid can’t quite make out- “Wednesday-”
Hands clasped at the back with a perfectly straight spine-
“You’re part of my pack now, and no one messes with my pack-”
Forest pine, decaying leaves, nighttime rain; the scent of autumn suffusing her nose-
“Enid, you’re going to be the death of me. I can’t wait for it-”
The beautiful strains of a perfect cello solo, soothing her to sleep-
“You’re willing to do that? For me?-”
Dark eyes, staring at her unblinkingly, warming as she feels herself smile-
“Have you considered that the main reason you’ve had difficulty with your abilities is because no one in your family is truly happy? Or perhaps because they simply don’t allow you to feel happy?-”
Her feet hurting from dancing so much, laughing at the goofiness of it all-
“You’re so much stronger than you realize, Enid-”
A hug so tight and warm and all-encompassing that she thinks she won’t ever be able to let go again-
“Will you ever forget me?”
“Enid, the mark you’ve left on me is indelible-”
She comes out of the vision with a gasp.
After a few shuddering breaths, she starts to grin despite her burgeoning headache, possibly the widest grin to ever appear on her face (a feat not easily accomplished).
From the looks of things, she and her roommate are going to become best friends, maybe even better friends than she and Yoko are, hard as that is to believe.
Somehow widening her grin, she scurries over to her art supplies and starts grabbing large and small rolls of tape, determined to get the window finished before her future friend arrives.
She can’t wait to meet her new roommate.
(Four hours later, she finds out that she’ll be rooming alone for this semester.
She tears all the tape down after she hears the news, crying and bitter that she actually believed her vision could be real.
Like her mom always says; “A Dove’s visions can never be trusted. They’re always too good to be true.”
She still puts the tape up a few days later anyway, hating herself for it.
She’s an optimist, after all, no matter how much she wishes she could be anything else.)
Wednesday is dreading meeting her new roommate.
Being forced into attending Nevermore at all is bad enough, especially partway through the semester, but the fact that she has to room with whatever obnoxious girl they chose for her instead of just giving Wednesday a single room is intolerable.
She doesn’t plan to stay for longer than a week, but that’s still a week of putting up with inane questions, annoying conversation, and the typical person’s inability to enjoy the finer things in life (murder, torture, discussions on her favorite morbid literature, et cetera).
Not to mention that she’ll have to endure dealing with the things every teen girl she’s met seem absurdly obsessed with; talking about boys, being absorbed by their cell phones, and using ridiculous amounts of make-up (including gallons of perfume, the fumes absolutely dizzying at times due to her heightened senses).
Just the thought of having to put up with all of that in close quarters is enough to make her claws start itching to come out.
The urge is easy enough to reign in; unlike most of the members of her pack, she’s always rejected the majority of her werewolf instincts in favor of tight self-control.
Her mother thinks it’s because she transformed for the first time under a blood moon at the extremely young age of six, making her larger and stronger than any other werewolf they know of.
Personally, she thinks it’s because she’s simply more practical and less chaotic than the rest of her family and pack.
The annoyingly unenjoyable dread in her stomach is alleviated slightly once they actually enter Ophelia Hall.
Among the expected scents of wood, cleaning supplies, and the mingling smells of her future (temporary) classmates, there’s another subtle scent that somehow catches her attention above all the others.
She can’t help but take in another sniff, making sure to keep it subtle to avoid her parents asking any embarrassing questions, since she never has to sniff twice.
The second sniff proves to be a mistake.
Something about the smell is intoxicating, despite it not including anything she normally enjoys smelling, like the metallic tang of blood, or the frightened sweat of her victims, or the delightful smoke after a healthy exercise in arson.
Instead, it’s what she can only describe as sunshine during a new spring; budding flowers coupled with the lingering scent of an icy wind, all underlaid with something human and warm.
Somehow, the sweet-smelling fragrance is absolutely addicting, and she wants nothing more than to bury herself in it, drown in it, asphyxiate in it.
She’s almost tempted to ignore her parents and Principal Weems entirely to go seek the scent out.
Luckily, the direction they’re headed just so happens to align with where the scent is coming from, so she stays with them. (At least until they deviate from the path she’s tracking; whatever is causing that smell she’s going to steal and she’s going to keep ).
The trouble is, they don’t deviate from its trail.
In fact, the longer they walk, the closer they get to it.
Once Principal Weems stops in front of the door of her assigned room, she can tell it’s coming from inside.
The scent is so overwhelming now that she can’t help but let her eyes flutter shut and take in a deep inhale through her nose, holding it for as long as she can and reluctantly letting it go in a slow exhale.
She’s thankful for her years in practicing silent breathing.
With her parents behind her and unable to see the small bits of rapture hidden in her half-closed eyes and the slight twitching of a rarely-seen smile, they don’t notice her odd behavior in the slightest.
By the time Principal Weems opens the door, Wednesday has herself pulled together again.
Her iron-tight self-control is immediately tested when a wave of the scent nearly overwhelms her senses entirely.
She comes uncomfortably close to shoving Principal Weems aside in order to run in and catch whatever’s releasing that scent. She wants nothing more than to keep it, to claim it, to make it a part of her new (temporary) territory. If anyone tries to prevent her from doing so, she’ll simply use her claws to get her way, whether that means simple intimidation or a little bloodshed.
And if it gets her expelled, all the better.
When Weems finally steps aside, Wednesday walks into the room almost too quickly, eager to find what’s causing a smell that has her wanting to throw out her self-control and rely entirely on her instincts for the first time since she was six and forced to watch the brutal murder of her beloved pet scorpion.
She stops in her tracks only five steps into the room, because she realizes immediately the scent isn’t coming from a thing; it’s coming from a person .
Wednesday only has a moment to prepare herself before the girl turns around in her desk chair to smile at them, at Wednesday specifically.
And she’s beautiful.
Wednesday knows her parents probably think she’s stopped because of all the color (which is, admittedly, very disturbing), but the true reason is because she’s too busy drinking the girl in with her eyes.
She’s blonde, with blue and pink dyed ends, pale skin Wednesday can already tell will blush easily (and by all her ancestors does she want to make this girl blush ), and glittering crystal-blue eyes that outshine even the most cursed blue opals she’s seen in her family’s extensive cursed jewelry collection.
Her teeth are as white and straight as normie gravestones, with pink plump lips that Wednesday wants nothing more than to bite.
Wednesday knows what this is, even before her roommate (damn it all, her roommate , she can already feel all her plans to run away falling apart) flutters over like a butterfly and welcomes her with a voice as smooth and as dangerous as liquid silver; something beautiful and alluring that could kill Wednesday in a heartbeat.
She can’t bring herself to respond, too busy cataloging every tiny detail about her roommate, from the divots of her bright smile to the way her barely-contained excitement fits her like a mourning shroud. On anyone else it would be exhausting, but on her it’s like the burn of looking directly into the sun, and Wednesday already treasures the sensation.
The others carry the majority of the conversation, which she’s extremely grateful for since she can’t even pretend to be paying attention right now.
The only detail she catches is Enid Sinclair .
Wednesday’s doing her best to avoid inhaling as much as possible, taking in only shallow breaths when absolutely necessary. Otherwise, Wednesday’s not certain she wouldn’t just drag Enid onto her bed, wrap herself around her, and bury her face into Enid’s neck where her scent is strongest, likely growling at anyone else who gets too close.
Her parents have always talked about how most werewolves have mates, but that the Addams pack have always been special in that they have one specific mate that they know is theirs from first sight, which often leads to early marriages, elopements, and mating.
Wednesday’s mother even warned her that her reaction to finding her mate (if she had one) would likely be more intense than even a normal Addams, considering how much more heightened her senses are.
Her mother’s prediction is proving to be annoyingly true.
She decides then and there that she’s going to hate Enid.
Clearly, having a mate is counterproductive to her plans and will only continue to tear apart her carefully-maintained self-control.
(She ignores the memory niggling at her thoughts, from when she was ten and blatantly told her mother that she didn’t want a mate, since having one would only be a distraction. Her mother smiled and replied, “When you find your mate, they don’t hinder you, or change you, no matter how intense it feels in the beginning. All they do is help you become the best version of yourself you can be, just as you will do the same for them.”)
When her mate- when Enid - tries to give Wednesday a hug, it takes every bit of her strength and self-control to step back.
She knows if she lets Enid hug her, she won’t be able to let go again.
She’s always taken great pride in her ability to control her instincts; she won’t allow them to control her .
“Not a hugger. Got it.” They’re the first words Wednesday’s been able to comprehend from this conversation, now that she’s forced her heart to return to its usual rhythm, the rush of blood in her ears has died down and her head has cleared somewhat.
Enid steps back, and Wednesday has to pull on reserves of strength she didn’t know she had to prevent herself from lurching forward and dragging Enid back towards her.
Wednesday doesn’t want Enid to ever back away from her, and she grits her teeth in anger at the insipid sappiness of the thought.
“Please excuse Wednesday.” Her mother says. “She’s allergic to color.”
Wednesday suddenly wants to strangle her mother even more than usual when Enid suddenly becomes extremely anxious (Wednesday can practically smell it) and it makes something in her want to comfort Enid.
“Oh, wow. What happens to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Wednesday says, grateful her voice sounds unaffected despite all the unfamiliar sensations her body is experiencing. “As long as you remove the tape from my half of the window, we shouldn’t have a problem.”
Wednesday can feel her parents’ surprise at her rather cordial response, considering how Enid seems to be her opposite in every regard, but she can’t bring herself to care.
The need to feel the softness of Enid’s hair and the warmth of her skin, the aching desire to wrap herself in that addicting scent, the need to see every blink of Enid’s crystal-blue eyes and every subtle change in her smile; all of it is slowly growing until she thinks she’s going to burst with it.
She can already feel her resolve crumbling around her, and she almost closes her eyes in frustrated resignation as her instincts start clawing at the fraying edges of her self-control.
They seem to be laughing at her, as if taunting her for thinking she could ever keep them contained with her mate standing right in front of her, perfect and beautiful and everything Wednesday never knew she wanted.
“Well, no need to worry, as we’ve special-ordered you a uniform. Enid, please take Wednesday to the registrar’s office to pick it up along with a copy of her schedule, and perhaps give her a tour along the way.” Weems says with another of her condescending smiles.
“Actually, before Enid shows me around, I would like to speak with her privately for a moment.”
“Of course, dear.” Her mother says, before bending forward and whispering in her ear, obviously amused. “Please do your best not to intimidate her too much; even if you have her running away screaming, it won’t be enough to get you expelled.”
Wednesday barely prevents herself from snarling at the very idea she would ever threaten Enid, let alone scare her enough that she’d run away from Wednesday.
Every inch of Wednesday’s self-control is all that’s keeping her contained in front of Enid, Weems, and her parents; she doesn’t need anything else that could set her off.
She truly has no idea what she’ll do if they push her over the edge, whether she’ll give in to her instincts to wrap herself around Enid in a protective embrace, or growl and snarl at the others for invading her territory, for daring to get so close to her mate when she’s only just found her.
Her mother better be right that these intense instincts regarding her mate will die down after the first few days, or else this semester is going to be hell.
…Actually, if that turns out to be the case, perhaps having a mate won’t be so bad after all.
All the more reason to get her parents and Weems out of their ( their ) room as soon as possible.
Thankfully, they don’t need any more convincing.
They quickly file out, her mother and father already starting to reminisce on yet another story of their times at Nevermore, Weems shutting the door firmly behind them.
Once she hears their footsteps fade away, Wednesday slowly turns to where Enid is standing, smiling with anticipation.
She’s only a few steps away.
“So, what’d you want to talk about, roomie?”
Wednesday laces her hands in front of her, doing her best not to vibrate out of her skin at both how close and how far away Enid is.
Wednesday manages to meet Enid’s eyes, eyes that look far too happy to see her.
She starts to wonder what exactly Enid is and if she knows more about their possible future together than she’s letting on.
Regardless, there’s only one way to find out.
“Enid,” Wednesday says calmly, “how much do you know about werewolves?”
To Enid’s confusion, rather than discussing boundaries and rules for being roommates like she was expecting, Wednesday instead lays out all the basics and relevant details about werewolf mates and the unique differences in the werewolves of the Addams pack.
But Enid isn’t confused for long, because after the surprise lesson on an interesting part of werewolf culture, Wednesday reveals why she told her all this in the first place.
She takes a deep breath (or at least a longer inhale than the shallow breaths she’s been taking since she entered the room) and closes her eyes for a moment.
“Enid, due to my body and mind’s reaction to your presence, I’m fairly certain that you’re my mate.”
Enid feels like her world has tilted sideways, knocking her feet out from under her even as they’re still firmly planted on the ground.
Before she can get herself back on solid ground, Wednesday continues.
“I understand this is a lot to process all at once, but I wish to inform you that I will not act on any of my instincts or,” she seems to shudder slightly, “ feelings I may feel for you unless you give me your full and enthusiastic permission.”
“But, from what you said it’ll be painful and stressful for you if I don’t-”
“I will not have you agreeing to anything you’re uncomfortable with or uncertain about out of a pressured sense of obligation or misplaced charity. To do so would not only be an insult to us both, but it could very well lead to disaster. If you wouldn’t be happy in such an arrangement but agreed to it regardless, it would only doom us both to a life of tedious misery.”
Wednesday puffs up slightly in what Enid’s fairly sure is pride.
“Werewolves mate for life, after all.”
“Alright, I’ll take time to think it over.” Enid says, still reeling but strangely reluctant to agree.
The idea of having someone love her unconditionally for the rest of her life is an incredibly appealing one, but Wednesday’s right.
If they rush into things only to find out they can’t stand each other, despite what Wednesday’s instincts tell her, it would only lead to disaster.
For once, she can’t let her emotions cloud her judgment.
She needs to take the time to think this over and make a decision she knows she’s certain and happy about. If not for herself, then at least for Wednesday.
“But, I don’t want you to be suffering during our time together.” Enid says, already preparing herself to dig her feet in, because this is a hill she will die on. “Is there anything I can do to make things easier on you while I’m thinking about all of this?”
Wednesday tilts her head slightly as she considers it.
Enid finds it incredibly endearing and hopes it’s a regular habit for Wednesday.
“No touching.” She ultimately says. “If you can keep at least a short distance away from me at all times, that would also be helpful. If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I would also like articles of your clothing or a blanket you’re willing to part with, preferably not overly colorful or bright.”
“Why?” Enid can’t help but ask.
“Your scent is incredibly appealing to me. If I have items that already smell like you in close quarters, it’ll be easier to keep my distance. But if that makes you uncomfortable-”
“No, it’s alright.” Enid scurries back to her side of the room, grabbing a red blanket from the foot of her bed, two white tanktops, and the only black shirt she owns before returning to Wednesday.
“Will this be enough?” She asks.
Wednesday nods, so Enid holds them out by the very edge, being as careful as possible not to touch Wednesday when she takes them.
“Thank you.” Wednesday says.
“No problem.” Enid says. “Is there anything else?”
Wednesday hesitates slightly before she continues.
“It would also be helpful if you could re-scent them regularly, at least for the first week or so.”
“Re-scent them?”
“So that your scent doesn’t fade from them. You would just need to lay with them for a few minutes or so every other day before returning them to me, and we should be fine.”
Enid nods.
“I can do that.”
Wednesday tilts her head again, much to Enid’s delight.
“You seem remarkably unruffled by all of this.”
Enid shrugs.
“I don’t know, I’m just sort of adaptable I guess. Besides, I like helping people, and since you’re my roommate and might end up being my mate, I want to help you even more.”
Wednesday stares at her with dark, scrutinizing eyes.
“You’re overly optimistic, excessively friendly, and seem desperate for the validation of others.”
Enid’s heart starts pounding, breath coming a little quicker as anxiety starts welling up inside her.
Her mom’s voice echoes in her head, her disappointment about Enid being a Dove, her annoyance every time Enid mentioned having a vision in the hopes it would impress her this time, where she went wrong in not squashing Enid’s optimistic tendencies before they grew out of control and turned her into a Dove.
“Normally, these traits would either annoy me or be easy to manipulate to convince someone to do things for me.”
Enid feels close to tears.
If even her own mate doesn’t want her for being a Dove, for being who she is, then who ever would?
“However, they are remarkably pleasing on you. They fit you well, and are making me reconsider my previous desire for solitude. Even if you decide not to become my mate, I ask that you consider being my,” Wednesday hesitates over the next word, as if not used to saying it. She swallows before continuing. “That you consider being my friend.”
Enid gasps, nearly bouncing on her feet with joy and relief.
“Of course! We can be friends right now!”
A tenseness in Wednesday’s shoulders that Enid didn’t even notice relaxes.
“Good.” She says, obviously a little uncomfortable. Enid wonders if she’s ever had a friend. Considering how hard it was for her to ask Enid, she doesn’t think so.
“Besides, the intensity of my instincts should fade after a few days, so if you decide not to become my mate, it shouldn’t cause me a huge amount of duress and we can be friends without issue on my part.”
Despite not being an Eagle like her brother, she can tell Wednesday is lying, but she sets it aside for now.
She’s determined to figure this out as soon as possible, and to help Wednesday in any way she can.
Regardless of if they become mates, she knows that they’re at least friends, and friends always help each other.
She smiles.
Maybe her vision wasn’t so incorrect after all.
It takes about a week after first meeting Wednesday for Enid to come to her decision.
It happens when they accidentally brush fingers while walking to their next class, the first time they’ve ever touched.
The moment they do, Enid’s head is thrown back, her vision whites out as static fills up her mind, and the most powerful vision she’s ever had rushes through her head.
“We’re going to win, Wednesday!”
The burn of aching muscles as she and Wednesday row through the water in perfect synchronization-
“Man, what would I do without you?”
“Likely fail every class due to your unnecessarily large amount of clubs and extracurricular activities, which burn you out on a regular basis despite my best attempts to prevent it-”
Someone shoulder-checking Enid so hard she almost falls to the floor, getting caught by Wednesday, who growls at the offender with unsheathed claws and bared teeth and glowing red eyes-
“You can’t threaten every person who causes me any little inconvenience, Wednesday.”
“Why not?-”
Running through trees, Wednesday chasing her before tackling her, sending them tumbling down a hill, Wednesday taking care to cushion Enid at the bottom-
“I’ll never hurt you, Enid. Not unless you ask me to, of course-”
Enid and Wednesday sprawled on grass, Enid laughing so hard she can’t breathe, Wednesday watching her with a small smile and soft, warm eyes-
“Oh, how I adore you.”
A huge wolf, bigger than any werewolf she’s ever seen, its fur black as raven feathers and eyes ruby red, standing over her protectively and snarling at something–
“I’ll always protect you, Enid. Just like I know you’ll always protect me-”
The feeling of gentle lips against her own-
“I can’t imagine a life or a death without you-”
Smoothing her hands down the white fabric draped over her body-
“We couldn’t be more proud to call you our daughter-in-law, but I do hope you’ll allow us to call you our daughter instead-”
Wednesday, gorgeous in a black suit, waiting for her at the end of a black-filled aisle, the largest smile Enid’s ever seen spreading across her face-
A hug so tight and warm and all-encompassing that she thinks she won’t ever be able to let go again-
“Will you ever forget me?”
“Enid, the mark you’ve left on me is indelible. But it’s not like we’ll be separated for long. You’re part of my pack, and packs stick together. Don’t worry. I’ll steal you away from your family soon enough, whether they like it or not. I’ll make sure you never feel lonely or unloved ever again. You’ll be pack, you’ll be family, you’ll be ours. I love you, Enid, forever and always.”
Enid comes out of the vision with a jolt, blinking in surprise and wincing at the intense headache already edging at the corners of her brain.
Wednesday is looking at her with concern, the micro-expression barely noticeable to anyone who hasn’t been studying Wednesday as closely as Enid has been over the past week.
“Are you alright?” She asks, apparently unaware her claws are unsheathed, as if prepared to protect Enid from an ambush.
Enid can’t help but smile at her.
“I’m just fine. I’m great actually.”
“What was that?” Wednesday asks. Enid hasn’t gotten around to explaining that she’s a psychic, though she knows Wednesday’s been curious about what brand of outcast she is, too embarrassed about her status as a Dove.
Now, she’s more grateful than anything for it.
“I’ll explain later.” She promises.
Then, with a wide, happy grin, Enid reaches out and takes Wednesday’s hand in her own, tangling their fingers together.
Wednesday immediately stiffens, eyes wide, but she doesn’t try to pull her hand away.
“Enid, you’re touching me.” She says, her usual bland tone more forced than Enid’s ever heard it.
“Yep. I’ve decided. I want to be your mate. I want this to be forever. I want to be with you, Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s nostrils flare, her pupils dilating.
“It’s barely been a week. Are you certain? If we start, the longer we’re together the harder it will be to part.”
“We’re not going to part. I promise.” Enid leans in closer. “I want this. I want you. I’m certain.”
Wednesday doesn’t answer.
Instead, she grips Enid’s hand tightly and starts pulling her down the hallway.
All the students in front of them quickly jump out of their way, Wednesday already having established herself as the most terrifying student in school and not one to be crossed within only a week.
Enid’s even had a few people approach her and ask how on Earth she’s managed to befriend such a cold and ruthless person.
To every single one of these questions, she only gives a small shrug and a friendly; “Dunno, just got lucky I guess.”
Eventually, Wednesday tugs her into an empty classroom, shuts the door with a harsh bang, and pins Enid to a wall.
Before she even knows what’s happening, Wednesday pulls her into a searing kiss, one full of fierce longing and held-back desire and unconditional adoration.
After her initial surprise, Enid returns the kiss just as fiercely, but she’s unable to hold back a whimper when Wednesday bites her lower lip.
The sound gets an almost feral growl from Wednesday in response, immediately making Enid’s knees go weak.
Thankfully, Wednesday’s more than strong enough to hold her up, in every way possible.
They end up missing their next class, but neither of them regret it in the slightest.