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There'd been an itch under Wednesday's skin for the whole day. It began that morning, when she had woken up still sluggishly tired and with an unnatural dryness in her throat. Both were quickly dealt with by water, splashed to her face and chugged from the cup she kept on her night stand.
Her first lesson seemed to drag on and on. When she looked at the clock however, the numbers and the hands blurred together. She asked Xavier how long was left of the class and he had given her a weird look before replying. “How long? Uh, like 40 minutes?–we've barely started.”
At lunch she usually took enjoyment in watching her peers force down a mystery meat sandwich, having arrived too late to snag something edible. The look of disgust and fear fixed on their faces, followed by the subtle green tint that lingered on their skin for a long period afterwards was often what helped her get her own appetite going. But today, even glancing at the stack of sandwiches sitting on the counter made her stomach do flips.
Seeing as Enid was busy and wouldn’t be attending lunch entirely, she decided to lunch entirely in favour of a walk.
Said walk had her feet dragging. At one point a branch suddenly fell from the thick oak trees, causing her to jump slightly. What surprised her more was not the unexpected rainfall of wood, but actually her complete lack of vigilance. Any other day she could’ve easily grabbed the branch out of the air before it touched so much as a hair on her head, at the very least she would've calmly moved out of the way. Certainly she wouldn’t have been blindsided enough to flinch.
Now, Wednesday was no stranger to the feeling of something being wrong. In fact, she felt it all the time, it was one of her favourite feelings. That’s what she told herself as she fought hard not to close her eyes and succumb to sleep during English.
Or in Potions when the teacher asked her a question and her mind went completely blank, like an attic filled with cobwebs. Or History, when her vision was so out of whack she genuinely confused her left hand for Thing, mistaking something scribbled in pen for his stitches.
‘Novel’ was written simply on the back of her hand. When had she even written it? Was she trying to remind herself of a new plot point or note that occurred to her? She decided she would read over her manuscript later to see if it jogged her memory.
The itch at the back of her throat was still there, ever prevalent, as if she owed it something and it wouldn't leave until receiving the debt. In Music she had to lift her hands off the cello so many times just to wipe her nose she almost fell off beat. Afterwards she ducked into the bathroom to check her brain wasn't leaking through her nostrils in some sort of impromptu lobotomy.
She wouldn’t be opposed to it, just she did actually want to keep her current brain, even just for the sake of her academics.
Instead what she found was her nose stung a subtle red and the skin slightly peeling in places. Her eyes widened slightly and she took notes of the redness that surrounded the corners of her eyes too. Whatever. Wednesday was used to being uncomfortable and looking slightly uncanny all the time. All was normal. She rubbed harshly at her nose with a tissue and splashed water on her face for the second time that day, then left for her last class.
Which couldn't end quick enough. It was study hall, any other day she would've delighted in the rare silence, but all she wanted to do was shift and writhe, to soothe her skin burning beneath her uniform. Unfortunately the sound of the fabric rubbing together would attract too much attention, so she sat rigidly still, sweat pooling on her brow.
She vaguely wondered if she’d accidentally worn one of Enid’s pink undershirts instead of her own grey ones, because what else would explain the irritation squirming around like bugs under her skin if not her colour allergy? But there was no way, it was so late in the afternoon she would've been absolutely bubbled with hives if that were the case.
Wednesday grit her teeth, read the same sentence over and over, and listened to nothing but the tick of the clock. For the whole. Fucking. Hour.
And when the final bell rang, she was the first out, books and sheets crumbled in her bag and a troubled frown etched deep into her features.
–
The door slammed behind her and she all but crashed into the dorm. A quick glance around told her neither Enid or Thing were there. Where even was Enid anyway? She hadn't been in any of Wednesday's classes and she didn't see her at lunch either. She had hardly even seen her in the morning as she’d woken up later than usual. Enid was out the door in a blur of pink and blue before the sound waves of her peppy ‘ Goodbye!!’ had the chance to travel to Wednesday’s ears.
And Thing? There was no telling what he was up to. Presumably something dangerous, or just plain stupid. Wednesday didn't know why but she felt something almost like disappointment as she looked around the empty room. It wasn’t the first time she’d been the only one inhabiting the space, today just felt.. empty. Her eyes flitted to Enid’s side of the room yet again and somehow the maximalism of it all felt mockingly empty without her roommate.
If her eyes were going to be assaulted, it may as well be done with the right methods. A certain blonde-blue-pinkette method.
Wednesday sighed, dropped her bookbag onto the floor and kicked off her shoes, not caring where they ended up. When she absentmindedly reached up to scratch the side of her neck it ignited a widespread fire across her skin, and she remembered the feeling of wanting to peel the entire organ off in study hall. She quickly stripped off her uniform and sought out clothes that were a lot less itchy and tight. Eventually she stumbled to the bathroom and had to grip the sink to steady herself. She didn't even realise the ordeal had tired her out so much.
What the fuck is going on?
Wednesday sucked in a breath, slow and intentional. She wiped her nose. Cold water flooded out from the taps and she tried to drown herself (splash water on her face), for the third time that day.
“Where’s my roomieee!!! Wednesdayy? If you're lurking in some dark corner again, come out slowly!”
Enid?
Enid!
Wednesday stumbled out of the bathroom in the least nonchalant way possible. No doubt if she’d been up in the ceiling beams she would’ve fallen 10 feet and landed in a classless face plant. Like literally, what was up with her cognitive function?
She clung to the walls like a child walking around in the dark, her eyes darting around until-
Oh. There she was.
Enid was standing in the centre of the room–still dressed in her uniform but somehow looking like a rainbow threw her up at the same time–and it was like all the light was restored. She turned her way upon hearing the noise of Wednesday’s clumsiness and a subtle furrow worked its way onto her eyebrows. Thing was on her shoulder and he gave a cheerful wave, unbothered by Wednesday's state.
“Hi. Enid.” Wednesday said. “I was just beginning to wonder where you were.”
“Where I was?” Enid asked incredulously. “Where have you been, the seventh circle of hell? No offence but you look.. dishevelled.” Her eyes flitted over Wednesday, assessing her as if she was a carnivorous animal.
“Thank you,” Wednesday replied earnestly. You look great.
What?
The thought slipped away almost as soon as she thought it. It seemed her mind was running away from her in her own head.
She does look great.
The fuck-?
“-llo? Earth to Miss Addams?”
“Oh. What?”
“I said that's not a compliment,” Enid huffed. “You look pale and sickly.”
“I always look pale and sickly.”
“Not like now! This is a different kind, Thing back me up here.”
Thing tapped Enid’s shoulder in agreement.
Wednesday glared at him. What about her was different? Everything was completely normal.
“Everything is completely normal, Enid.”
“No, if everything was normal you wouldn't- OMG!” Enid gasped, her eyes widening. “You wouldn’t be wearing our snoods!”
The?- Oh God. Wednesday internally face palmed, already feeling the other girls' excitement roll off in waves. She felt the weight of the knitted black snood wrapped around her head, which she'd honestly forgotten was even there. She reached a hand up to touch it just to make sure.
“It’s… soft.” Wednesday said lamely.
“Well of course it is! Okay but seriously now I'm really worried.”
Enid came right up to her with her hands on her hip and looked inquisitively into her eyes. Wednesday felt her heartbeat pick up. And then, tantalisingly slow, Enid's hand raised up, up, up to her forehead.
As the back of her hand pressed to her forehead, Wednesday locked her focus on Enid's face. She put her all into concentrating on the clusters of eyelashes, or light dusting of freckles gracing Enid's features. Her legs didn't feel real.
“Wednesday..” Enid began, still connected to Wednesday through her hand, which was actually very nice and cooling. “You're probably not gonna like this but, is there a chance you could be sick?”
A beat of silence passed between them. Enid dropped her hand. Then Wednesday's brain cranked back into action.
“Sick? What? No, of course not, I'm not sick.”
Enid continued to look worried. “You sureee? You're burning up like crazy.” And there she was reaching for Wednesday again, to touch her like she had when the back of her hand soothed her forehead just seconds ago. It was a simple movement– but for some reason made Wednesday want to scream.
Enid's hand, the back of her hand, was creeping her way. Her pale, soft skin was decorated in fun coloured bracelets and rings. It was her hand–coming closer, the back of her hand, back of her hand, back of the-
“Novel!” Wednesday blurted out. “I have to work on my novel, I made a note to.”
“What? Wednesday-”
Heart beating too fast, Wednesday pushed past her roommate and made a beeline to her desk, where her shiny black type writer sat awaiting her. Leaving Enid's space was like finally exiting a really stuffy classroom, except her head didn't clear too much and she kind of wanted to go back. Honestly she felt worse without Enid. Dizzy, even.
Vaguely in the background, Enid was saying something else. Probably trying to prove she was sick. Which she wasn't. Why would Wednesday, of all the people in the entire world, be sick?
Without holding onto anything–she staggered a whole two, independent, freeing steps.
And promptly fell over.
–
Wednesday blinked to life slowly, and was only minorly confused as she stared at the ceiling. She was safely in her bed, her head propped up on her pillow and dark sheets swirling around her. As she came to she was reminded of her last stream of consciousness, the one that ended in an unexpected fade to black.
“Wasn’t I just..”
“On the floor? After you fell over even when I was warning you to be careful?” Enid’s voice piped up and Wednesday sat up to find her. She was coming over to the bed with a steaming cup in hand.
Of course she remembered crashing onto the hardwood. If she didn’t then there was always the pounding headache beating inside her skull to remind her. The piece of the puzzle she was missing was why wasn't she still there?
Enid handed Wednesday the mug and sat down beside her. “It’s a herbal thing if you want it. Not poisoned, unfortunately for you.”
Wednesday just looked at the tea, eyebrows furrowed.
“Okay, I can literally hear the cogs in your brain trying to turn. You’re in your bed because I carried you to it, you lucky duck.” Enid said, bumping her shoulder.
A faint blush crossed Wednesday’s cheeks. “You carried me?”
“Yes, believe it or not. I swear Wednesday you’re the only one in this whole school that forgets that being strong is like the starter pack of being a werewolf.”
“Oh.” She replied weakly.
Enid frowned slightly and her expression took on a familiar softness. “You ready to admit you’re sick now?” She asked gently.
And Wednesday wanted to deny it so, so bad, but something about the way Enid was looking at her made her swallow the lie. Her head really fucking hurt, along with her throat and whole body for that matter. The mere act of holding Enid’s tea made her arms feel weak and flimsy.
“I.. might have caught something.” Wednesday said slowly. Enid nodded and patted her on the back empathetically, and Wednesday had to fight the instinct to lean into her touch. She brought the mug to her mouth and took a sip, as strenuous of a task as it was.
The tea was hot, but not enough to burn her tongue. Like the perfect temperature. The taste was a little sagey–with honey, and they balanced each other out perfectly. As she drank, all Wednesday could think about was how Enid picked her up off the floor and carried her to bed and then made her a really nice cup of tea, and suddenly she wanted to cry.
She turned her head away, embarrassed. “Sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like this.”
“Acting like what?”
Wednesday looked back at the other girl then dropped her gaze as her cheeks tinged yet again.
“Being like grateful.. for you. I’m happy that you're here is all.”
As soon as she said it Wednesday wished she didn’t. It would've been better to have been shot in the face instead, or something else that would actually be bearable. She didn’t even know what possessed her to say it in the first place, clearly she had lost all control entirely.
She snuck a glance at Enid and just knew what was about to happen.
Three, two-
“Awwwwhhhhhh! Wednesday you cutie, you do like me!” She gushed, leaning in and pressing into Wednesday’s side in a big, cuddly hug. “You know I’d make you tea everyday if I didn't think you would boil me.”
Really?
“Get off.” Wednesday said instantly, because something about Enid’s touch scared her. She didn’t mean to make her roommate’s face fall, much less when she fake smiled and pretended her feelings weren't hurt, but Enid’s arm against hers sent shockwaves up her body and she just wasn’t ready to confront what that meant.
Wednesday did feel bad though, a real sinking feeling she wanted to reverse immediately.
“Oh no, I didn’t– You just uh..” You just casually hugged me and it made me think of how you’re the only person in the world I would let do that.
“It’s the colours,” she lied. “Your sweater and my allergy is all.”
Enid blew out a little air in a relieved fashion, but she still looked a little kicked. “Oh yeah, I completely forgot. Sorry I can just go then.”
“You could wear that.”
A plain black hoodie hung off Wednesday’s desk chair. She stared at it hard, trying to communicate to Enid that under no circumstance did she want her to go.
Enid’s eyes followed hers. “That?”
Wednesday nodded.
“Would it make you feel better if I wore it?.”
She nodded again.
Without any further questions Enid pried off her tie-dyed pink and orange sweater and pulled Wednesday’s hoodie over her head. Wednesday watched the whole thing silently. She’d never seen Enid wear anything that was even remotely dark, but the black was a look on her. She had to bite her tongue to not say anything stupid.
The mattress dipped as Enid sat back down and focused on Wednesday, who had begun to yawn. She wiped her eyes with the end of her sleeve, they felt heavy, and way too willing to close.”
Enid studied her for a moment, her slumped posture, her red nose, and slow blinking eyes. At that point Wednesday was too tired to even care that she was staring.
“Wednesday, I really think you should get some sleep.” Enid spoke, gentle and quiet.
“I’m not-”
“You’re not tired, you’re not sick, whatever. Just close your eyes for a bit and I promise you'll feel way better when you wake up.”
Wednesday gripped the black sheets with her fist. “Will you stay?” She mumbled.
“Of course.”
So she pulled her legs back onto the bed, back into the covers. Let Enid unbraid her hair and rake through it with her fingers. She even let her tuck her in.
When they both settled, and Wednesday was fighting the drowsiness behind her eyes while Enid sat beside her stroking her hair, she got the feeling of wanting to cry again.
She couldn't help i, she wanted to thank Enid for a million things. For being so tender, so kind. For showering her in rainbows and affection when she wasn’t sure she deserved even a little bit of it.
“Enid?” Wednesday asked into the night, in the smallest voice ever.
“Yeah?” Came a soft reply.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl ever.”
The world faded to black again, except it was a lot more peaceful this time. A nice, comfortable black she could sink into and live in forever. Wednesday pulled the sheets tight around them and fell asleep to the sound of Enid breathing.