Chapter Text
“How do I look?”
“Dreadfully colorful.”
“You didn’t even look.”
“Absymally colorful then.”
Enid rolls her eyes and walks over to lean against her roommate’s desk with folded arms. “You know, you should really get up and do something. You’ve been sitting there for hours.”
Wednesday doesn’t look away from her typewriter. “I’m at a critical juncture of my novel. Viper is about to get captured by Calloway.”
“Yeah?” Enid tilts her head in genuine interest. “And what’s Evelyn doing?”
The writer’s fingers hitch on the keys. “Evelyn is currently preoccupied with…aquaintences.”
“So you’re benching me again.”
Wednesday finally looks up at her roommate. Then immediately regrets it.
Definitely dreadfully, beautifully colorful.
“It is fiction,” the seer says diplomatically. Trying not to let her gaze linger on how the last rays of sunlight catch in golden hair just right.
“Well, based on the few parts you’ve actually let me read of the story, I still think Evelyn can be doing more than hanging out with these so-called 'acquaintances'."
Wednesday looks back down at her typewriter.
If only.
“Perhaps Evelyn will be available later in the story.”
As soon as she says it, she nearly winces at how obvious the words are. But Enid doesn’t even seem to notice. Already moving away to grab her bag.
“I’m meeting Hunter at Chester’s by the way.”
“Hunter?” Wednesday spits out the word like it's perchloric acid.
“That’s his name. The guy I’m meeting tonight.”
“How dreadful.”
Enid shakes her head. “Not everyone is as averse to socializing as you.”
Wednesday only scowls in response.
Socializing.
Sure.
If that’s what Enid wants to call the random dates that have been cutting into their roommate movie nights the last three months.
Not that Wednesday has been keeping track.
The wolf checks herself one last time in the mirror before grabbing her coat. “Wish me luck!”
“If he breaks your heart-”
“You’ll nailgun his. I know.”
“I was going to say I’ll cut his up with a surgical knife and leave the pieces outside his dorm.”
Enid wrinkles her nose. “That’s disturbingly specific.”
“All murder schemes must be.” Wednesday always pictured the slaying of Enid’s suitors in precise detail.
The wolf rolls her eyes yet again. “Alright, well you can freak me out with your nefarious plotting some other time. I’m going to be late.”
“Naturally.”
“Bye, Wends.”
It’s only when the door clicks shut that Wednesday finally looks over her shoulder.
Thing scuttles onto the desk. You’re yearning.
“And you’re about to be locked in my cello case.”
Thing wags a finger. Didn’t deny it.
“I don’t yearn.”
The hand looks incredulous. You’re Gomez Addams’ daughter.
“So?”
So no one yearns like you.
“I am not my father,” Wednesday growls.
You’re right. Your father would’ve confessed by now. It’s been five years, after all.
The seer grabs the hand and shoves him inside the cello case before slamming it shut.
Thing smirks to himself.
Worth it.
The case is comfortable anyway.
Wednesday sits back at her desk and glares at her typewriter. As if her sour mood is somehow the parchment paper’s fault.
Which, if she’s being honest, is half true. Over the years, she’s found she much prefers to write scenes with both Viper and Evelyn, rather than just Viper solo. And yes, she’s hyper aware of why that is. For which she’s cursed her father’s genes repeatedly.
But Evelyn is not in these scenes. Though she’s not on the bench either.
It’s just that Wednesday didn’t have the guts to explain that the reason for Evelyn’s current absence in the story is so she can save Viper from Calloway later.
It felt a little too…on the nose.
Though honestly, Enid would probably just say something like that’s what friends do.
Which Wednesday also didn’t have the guts to listen to.
Again.
She glances at the door. Then at her watch.
How had only four minutes passed?
When did that even start to matter?
She knows the answer to one of those questions at least.
“Howdy roomie.”
Enid plops down in the dirt beside Wednesday like she belongs there.
“I intentionally came out here for solitude,” the seer mutters.
The wolf smirks and points at the graveyard they’re sitting in. “Then why did you make your location so predictable?”
Wednesday side eyes her roommate in vague annoyance, but they both know she doesn’t actually want Enid to leave. Since the events of Crackstone a few weeks ago, they’ve basically been inseparable.
“Why do you like graveyards so much anyway?” Enid asks, positioning herself so that their shoulders brush.
“I find the deadly air soothing.”
“Of course you do.”
“The inscriptions on the tombstones can also be enlightening.”
“How so?”
“They reveal an entire person’s life in a mere few sentences.”
Enid’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “That’s actually kinda beautiful.”
Wednesday scowls. “That is not what I was intending.”
“I know.” Enid smiles and leans in a bit to look closer at the sketchbook the seer is holding. “What are you drawing?”
The smell of strawberry perfume invades Wednesday’s senses.
How unfortunate.
“I’m designing the layout of a seance circle Goody describes in her spellbook.”
The wolf grimaces. “As long as you save the summoning of the dead for when I’m out of the room."
“The purpose of this ritual is for the summoned spirit to be able to linger for days.”
“Well that’s…horrific?”
“Useful.”
“You are so weird.”
“So you’ve said.”
“And I stand by it.”
“Yet you continue to intrude on my solitude.”
Enid shrugs and looks at the tombstones around them. “Because it’s easy, you know?”
“To pester me?”
“No. Well, yes. But I more meant like, talking with you is just easy. I can’t explain it.”
“You say that as if I contribute much to our so-called conversations.”
The wolf smiles in amusement. “You do more than you know. Like how you slow your typing ever so slightly when I ramble about something that secretly interests you. Or how your eyes sparkle when you think you’ve just tricked me into something I knew all along.”
The raven’s features sharpen. “I do no such thing.”
“Or how your bangs twitch when you try to deflect.” Enid points knowingly at her roommate. “I mean, come on. Mentioning the full moon on the night you wanted to go to the Gates mansion hoping I’d offer the excuse of needing to go to the lupin cages as a cover to sneak out? Not subtle.”
“Then why did you go along with it?” Wednesday huffs, feeling embarrassment coat her cheeks and unease prickle down her spine. She knew Enid understood her better than most, but she didn’t realize to what degree until now.
“I don’t know. Because I wanted to? Like I said, I can’t explain it. Maybe I just have a death wish or something.”
Wednesday finds herself studying the roommate before her. The blue eyes that make the sky itself look dull. The sheepish smile that causes a disconcerting queasiness in her stomach. The fresh scars that are sharp and deep, and perfectly enhance the wolf’s overly symmetrical face.
Her fingers itch to run over those scars. To map out every part of the werewolf in front of her and frame it in her mind.
Like how the light in those blue eyes fades a pain-inducing amount when the wolf talks about being left out of her pack. Like how Enid trips over herself when she’s nervous, but in a strangely confident way. Like how the wolf obsesses over the smallest details, not out of the need for perfection like Wednesday, but because she genuinely cares.
And it hits the Addams like a bolt straight from hell.
Or rather.
A curse.
Because Enid may not be able to explain it.
But Wednesday absolutely can.
“I gotta go meet Ajax. We’re going to that new restaurant in town. But I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Enid gets up and looks down at her roommate with a cheery grin.
Oh.
The curse has already taken root.
Deeply.
The raven manages a weak nod.
The wolf bounds off happily.
Unaware that she’s just ruined Wednesday Addams’ life.
That was five years ago.
And nothing has changed since then. Not really.
They’re still roommates. In college now.
They still throw themselves into danger for each other.
Still argue like their sanity depends on it.
Still have entire conversations with their eyes.
And Wednesday? She still knows why.
But Enid? She still doesn’t.
Apparently they both have a death wish.
---------------
“Ugh, that date was awful!”
“So I gathered, considering it’s a mere 30 minutes after you were supposed to meet him.” Yoko looks at her friend tiredly over her sunglasses.
“I couldn’t go back to the room so early after another failed date!” Enid moans. “It’s like the third time this month!”
Yoko is all too aware of the count. “Tell me what happened.”
“I mean, it started off fine, I guess. We met at Chester’s for dinner. And he said I looked nice and everything.”
“Okay…”
“But then we got to talking about our families, and I kinda hinted mine sucks. And he was just like, ‘Oh, I’m sorry’.”
The vampire frowns. “Is that not the proper response?”
“I don’t know!” Enid huffs. “I guess I just wanted something more…earnest, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Ugh. Like just a bit more outspoken against them. Especially my mom.”
Ah. Now Yoko does know. “Like a death threat?”
“What? No. I mean…I suppose that would’ve been effective,” Enid says thoughtfully.
Gee, wonder who that sounds like.
Yoko sighs. “Okay, but was that the only reason you left the date early?”
“No. There was plenty of other stuff. Like he kept asking me questions.”
“The horror.”
“But he didn’t really say anything himself!”
Yoko raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that good though since you like to talk a lot?”
“Yeah, but he gave zero input into the conversation! Not a single comment or stiff nod or even a sarcastic remark about something silly I said. I couldn’t even tell you one thing that he likes!”
“Did you even ask him?”
“Yes! And he was like ‘Oh, I don’t know. What about you?’”
“Maybe he was just trying to be polite?” The vampire tries.
“I don’t want polite,” Enid states definitively.
“Then what do you want?”
“I don’t know!”
Yoko is just about ready to eat a plateful of garlic. Or bathe in holy water. Or do anything to escape this torture her oblivious friend has been putting her through for the last five years. Ever since the werewolf showed up on her doorstep with a red bag and tears in her eyes over a fight with one Wednesday Addams.
Because breaking up your best friend/roommate dramatically without ever dating them is the oldest move in the book.
A book that Yoko has read plenty of times.
Still, the vampire soldiers on. “Well, maybe-”
“He also didn’t know how to pronounce ‘bruschetta’!”
“...I see.”
“Do you??”
“Yep.”
Far better than you.
“Ugh. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Enid rubs her face. “Maybe I’m just being picky.”
The vampire shakes her head. “Everyone has their preferences. You just need to figure out yours, wolfie.”
Preferably before my immortality runs out.
“But I don’t know mine.”
“Are you sure about that?”
The wolf frowns. “Uh, yes?”
Yoko curses Esther Sinclair who she 100% blames for this predicament. “Well, you seem to know what you don’t want. So maybe just try to make a list?”
“Maybe…” Enid sighs in defeat. “Or maybe the guys you’ve been setting me up with are just bad.”
“Ha. Take that up with Bianca. She picked them.”
“Well tell her I’m not into blonde hair.”
“You have blonde hair.”
“Exactly! So mix it up a bit!”
“...Right. I’ll tell her.”
“Good.” Enid nods. “Do you think it’s still too early to go back to the room?”
“I doubt Addams will be disappointed.”
“I guess.” The wolf doesn’t really register the meaning of the words as she heads toward the door. “I’ll try to put that list together for you and Bianca about what my type is for the next date.”
Yoko bites her cheek to keep from cringing. “Alright, wolfie.”
“See you, Yokes.”
As the door closes, Yoko hits her head against her coffin.
Because damnit.
She feels bad for Wednesday freaking Addams.
---------
“You’re back early.”
Enid winces.
So much for Wednesday not noticing.
“Yeah.”
Wednesday slows her typing an imperceptible amount to anyone but the werewolf. “Do I get to use my surgical knife?”
Despite how down she feels, Enid can’t help but smile at the offer of violence. “No. He’s not worth the satisfaction you’d get from all the blood.”
“I can be unsatisfied with it if you wish.”
“Nah. He’s too boring to be worth the hassle.”
The seer continues typing, but she can’t help the rush of relief in her veins at the confirmation of yet another failed date. “Now you finally see that the world is filled with imbeciles."
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Wednesday frowns at the tone. “There is cheesecake in the fridge.”
“OMG!” The wolf bounces up from her bed, all semblance of sadness momentarily forgotten. “Strawberry?”
“Indeed.”
“Eek! You’re the best roomie ever!”
The line still stings every time.
Practiced silence falls over them while Enid digs into the cheesecake, and Wednesday thinks that’s going to be it for the night. It had been in the past, at least.
Whenever Enid came back dejected from a failed romantic courtship, the raven would offer a death threat and a treat.
Then the wolf would be magically rejuvenated. All boys long forgotten.
At least until the next date.
So the line of inquiry that comes after Enid has finished the cake is wildly out of routine.
And wildly perilous.
“Wednesday, what’s your type?”
The seer is so startled by the question that she makes an uncharacteristic error. Typewriter keys clanking together.
She scowls at the page. If only in an attempt to calm the rapid uptick of her pulse.
“I can’t imagine what you mean.”
Enid rolls her eyes and flops on her bed again. “Oh come on, I know you’re not completely illiterate when it comes to modern slang. You know the term ‘mansplaining’.”
“Only because it applied to Xavier so thoroughly.”
The wolf feels a jolt of resentment go through her at the mention of their old classmate. “True. It definitely did. So I take it he wasn’t your type then?”
“Is he anyone’s?”
“Fair point.”
Wednesday moves toward her cello, hoping it will be a subtle hint to her roommate to drop the conversation. But fortune is not on her side apparently. Something she had never wished for until now.
“Okay, so not Xavier. Then…Tyler?” The name of the Hyde tastes like sandpaper in Enid’s mouth. But it’s the only other option she has. And she’s honestly been wondering for years now what her brilliant roommate saw in that manipulating bastard.
“Decidedly not,” Wednesday grunts.
“But-”
“No.”
“Okay, so not nice, boring boys who are secretly serial killing monsters. And not broody, slimy boys who are not-so-secretly attention-starved artists.”
“Your skills of deduction are truly magnificent.”
“Hey, I’m just covering the bases!” Enid defends. Though she doesn’t quite understand the relief in her chest at the knowledge Tyler and Xavier weren’t actually Wednesday’s type.
“Unwarrantedly,” the seer grumbles.
The wolf pays her no mind. “How about just overall nice boys?”
“No.”
“Girls?”
“I don’t have a type, Enid,” Wednesday snaps.
“Come on, everyone does! At least a little bit.”
“I am not everyone.”
Enid snorts. “Oh I know. But considering how obsessed with each other your parents are, I find it highly unlikely that you don't have at least a little romantic in you.”
The Addams makes a mental note to place a curse on her family’s curse.
“Let’s see…” the wolf taps her chin thoughtfully. “How about this? Just tell me which of our classmates would fit the best and I’ll take it from there.”
“No.”
“Wendsss. It’s just for fun. We hardly ever talk about your love life!”
“Which is strongly preferred.”
“Fine. I’m just going to start listing off people.”
“Enid-”
“Divina?”
“No.”
“Yoko?”
“I don’t hate life that much.”
“I’m telling her you said that.”
“I was counting on it.”
Enid rolls her eyes and concentrates again. “Kent?”
“You must be joking.”
“Ajax?”
Wednesday doesn’t dignify that one with a response.
“Hmmm. Oh I know! Bruno?”
Brown eyes nearly bug out of their skull.
Enid bursts into laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just had to see your reaction.”
“I will put another eyeball on your pillow, Sinclair,” Wednesday hisses. “Perhaps your own.”
The wolf waves her hand. “Yeah, yeah. It’s been five years, Addams.”
Wednesday is well aware of the years. Well aware of how long she’s been dying the most arduous death that she never wants to escape from.
“Let’s see, who else?” Enid ponders. “Oh! Bianca?”
“No.”
“Eugene?”
“I said I don’t have a type,” Wednesday repeats in mounting frustration.
The wolf doesn’t even seem to hear her though. “Agnes?”
“I will stab your liver.”
“Well, there’s no one else. Except-”
Wednesday’s heart stops.
Suddenly that arduous death is far too close at hand.
“Barclay!” Wednesday yells hastily.
Enid blinks at the uncharacteristic outburst. “Uh, what?”
Wednesday clenches her fists. “I choose…Barclay. For your trivial game.”
“It’s not a game.” The wolf sighs. “It's a normal thing that best friends talk about.”
That line stings every time too.
“I suppose Bianca makes sense though,” Enid muses.
A wave of relief washes over Wednesday.
The lie had been bought.
“She’s smart and capable.”
“That’s your opinion,” the seer grumbles.
“And nice, and respected, and…wait.” The wolf’s blue eyes go wide with realization. “You’d choose Bianca over me??”
Well.
Shit.
“I chose from the list you provided,” Wednesday tries pathetically.
“But I was clearly listing all classmates! You could’ve picked me any time!”
The seer’s eyes dart around the room. Wondering if she could survive the three-story jump out their window.
Enid gets up and starts pacing. Which only frays Wednesday’s nerves more given how small the space is in their college dorm compared to Ophelia Hall.
“I can’t believe you’d choose Bianca over me!”
“Enid-”
“I mean, what does she have that I don’t?”
“Noth-”
“It’s because she can fence, isn’t it?”
“That hardly matters-”
“Or maybe you like her powers better?”
“You must know that isn’t-”
“Or do you just think she’s prettier than me??”
Oh for Death's sake-
“Enid!”
The wolf jumps and finally stops her rambling.
“I told you I don’t have a type,” Wednesday growls. A mixture of desperation and frustration.
“But you-”
“I simply picked Barclay since she is the most tolerable from the ones you listed.”
“So you would’ve picked me if I had listed myself?”
Wednesday would’ve scoffed at the irony if she wasn’t so caught up trying to formulate an acceptable answer. “You are…also tolerable.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I said I don’t-”
“Yeah, I get it. You don’t have a type.” Enid sits back down on her bed with a sigh, trying to calm down from her outburst. “Ha. What a pair of roommates we are. You don’t have a type, and I don’t even know what mine is.”
The layers of tragedy in that statement are not lost on Wednesday.
“I suppose it is a bit…unusual,” the raven remarks stiffly.
Enid can’t help the small smile that comes to her lips. “I guess that fits us.”
Us.
The word coils around Wednesday’s soul. Pushing her closer to insanity.
She moves for her cello again. Desperately needing an escape from the conversation she barely survived.
This time, Enid doesn’t stop her.
Thing scuttles out of the case when she opens it. She had almost forgotten he was in there.
Though after the knowing look he gives her, Wednesday strongly considers shoving him right back in. But that would draw far too much attention, so she shoots him a nasty glare and grabs the instrument.
Soon, clear, low notes roll through the air.
Easing the abnormal tension that’s confusing to both roommates in very different ways. Helping them fall back into the nightly routine they’ve mastered over five years.
Enid showers.
Then Wednesday.
Afterward, the raven lies down in her corpse position. Eyes closed.
Willing her longings away.
Meanwhile, the wolf scrolls on her phone. Waiting for sleep to come.
Eventually it does.
But it’s fitful.
With three words bouncing around Enid’s mind.
Not her type.
----------------
“What are you writing, Sinclair?” Bianca sits down at the dining table across from her friend.
“Oh! Um, nothing!” Enid snatches up her notebook.
The siren snorts. “Remind me never to ask you to lie for me.”
“I was just…brainstorming.”
“Not at all suspiciously.”
“Well-”
“Hey, all.” Yoko haphazardly plops into the booth next to Bianca. Then tilts her head at the werewolf across from her. “Why do you look even more flustered than usual?”
“I’m not!” Enid denies.
“She said she’s brainstorming,” Bianca explains.
“Ooo are you writing down the list of things that make up your type?” Yoko asks excitedly. Hoping it said something incredibly obvious like two braids and bangs.
“Umm, not exactly.”
Bianca sighs. “Just spit it out, Sinclair. We all know you’ll tell us eventually anyway.”
Enid groans. “Fine. I mean, it is still a list.”
“Of?”
“Reasons I should be Wednesday’s type?” the wolf squeaks.
The vampire and siren nearly fall out of their seats. “So you finally figured it out???”
Enid’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What? Figured what out?”
Yoko slumps in the booth while Bianca fully facepalms.
Enid misinterprets the gestures as exasperation about the list she’s creating. “It’s just, I asked Wednesday last night what her type was out of all our classmates.”
“Oh?” The vampire looks back up with an extra-intrigued expression.
“And she said Bianca.”
The siren chokes on her coffee. “Excuse me?”
Yoko claps Bianca on the back. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“That’s what I said!” Enid exclaims.
“Hey!” Bianca says in offense. “I’m everyone’s type!”
“I mean, the problem isn’t that she picked you,” the wolf mumbles. “It’s that…”
“She didn’t pick you,” Bianca says knowingly.
“Yeah.” Enid sighs. “Not that she had to. I mean, we’re just friends. But…”
“But…?”
“I guess I thought she’d still pick me though. Even in some crazy hypothetical.”
“Right,” Yoko mutters. “Hypothetical.”
“Did you tell her that?” Bianca asks, elbowing the vampire next to her.
“Yeah, and she just said I was also a ‘tolerable’ choice.”
Damnit, Addams.
“So…you’re making a list of reasons why Wednesday should’ve picked you instead?” Yoko asks in bafflement.
The wolf nods sheepishly.
“Why?”
Enid hesitates. Why? That isn’t a question she’s asked herself. And certainly not one she has an answer for.
“I don’t know. I guess because we're a pack. And I want to…justify that?” Enid says lamely.
“Is that the only reason?” Yoko presses.
“Uh, yes?”
Damnit, Sinclair.
Bianca leans over to try to view the notebook. “Okay, so what reasons do you have?”
“Um,” Enid flushes again and fidgets with her pen. “Well, I tried to come up with things about me that I thought would make sense for Wednesday to like. Romantically.”
“Go on.”
The wolf squeaks in embarrassment and shoves the notebook across the table.
The list is written in pink ink.
Why I’m Wednesday Addams’ Type
- Intelligent
- Kind
- Determined
- Protective
- Werewolf Abilities
- Good kisser
“Good kisser??” Yoko’s grin is nothing short of shit-eating.
“I don’t know!” Enid screeches, pulling the notebook back. “It’s a rough draft!”
Bianca chuckles. “I suppose Addams would appreciate that.”
The wolf somehow goes even redder. “I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant like…doesn’t everyone appreciate that in a romantic partner?”
Yoko bites her lip to stifle a laugh. “Are you gonna show her that skill then?”
“N-No!”
“So what’s the point of this list?”
“Just…brainstorming!”
“Don’t you want to show her these things?” Bianca presses.
Enid scratches her neck nervously. “Well, I’d like to think she already knows these things. Minus the kissing part, obviously.”
“But she still picked me,” Bianca says smugly.
The wolf’s face contorts into a scowl.
“Ignore her,” Yoko interjects, now being the one to elbow the siren. “You should go for it, wolfie.”
“Um, what?”
“Prove to Addams that in this hypothetical, she should pick you over anyone else.”
“Oh. Maybe…”
“Definitely,” Bianca urges.
“Ugh, okay. But only because I’ve lived with her for five years and I really don’t see how she could pick anyone else-”
Yoko snorts.
“No offense, Bianca.”
The siren waves her hand. “Oh believe me, none taken.”
The werewolf sighs and starts to pack up her bag. “Don’t think this lets you two off the hook for finding me better dates than these last ones!”
Both the siren and vampire grimace.
“...Right.”
Enid rolls her eyes and leaves the table to go find her roommate.
To start her plan.
And prove that she definitely is Wednesday Addams’ type.
Hypothetically.
“Don’t forget the kissing part!” Bianca calls out, but the werewolf is already long gone.
Yoko groans and smacks her face on the table. “How many more awful boys will we have to conjure up before she realizes?”
Bianca shakes her head. “At this point? Probably every one in this school.”
“Oh, speaking of which. She told me to tell you that blondes aren’t her type.”
“No shit.”