Chapter Text
First thing Enid does after exiting the courtroom is giving a thumbs up and nodding at Gomez. The second is picking up Wednesday and twirling around. Bursting of wired happiness fueling the laughter and the sudden disequilibrium. In the vertigo of happiness the overjoyed giggles ebb away to tears, slowing down the twirl to a stop and tight hug. Thing takes the opportunity to climb up and join the embrace, deepening Enid’s sobs. Wednesday lets herself be swayed from side to side and keeps her arms firmly locked around Enid as the werewolf cries away her relief, tension softening.
Until she finally backs away sniffling and hugging Thing individually for a moment before putting him away in favor of holding Wednesday's hand and swaying it while smiling.
“What does freedom feel like, mi corazón?” Wednesday asks
Enid smiles even brighter while knitting her eyebrows in thought. “Pretty good, but like something I gotta cherish a lot cause soon I’ll be in jail.”
“This is not a public talk discussion, we'll fix that later.”
Enid giggles and puts her hand on Wednesday’s waist. “It's just that I'm gonna get jailed for being a cougar instead of a wolf, silly.”
Wednesday blinks at her in confusion before it clicks and she groans. “Enid…”
Enid steps in closer while pulling on the healthy Wednesday arm to encircle her too. “I’m an adult dating a sixteen year old! That’s jail time like for real. I won’t even be able to lie about regretting it when I get caught.” The wolf girl struggles to keep laughter out of her serious tone.
“We’re the same age.”
Enid shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Claiming to be as mature as me will not help babycakes, that’s like so cliche.”
“I’m clearly more mature than you.”
“Oh no, I’m also making you do emotional labor for me, my crimes are endless.”
That’s when, with his sudden reappearance, Wednesday realizes that her father has been gone since Enid got out. Now sans the briefcase he had before, documents in hand instead.
“It worked?” Enid asks.
Gomez smiles and gives her the paper. Enid reads it holding high up in the air and starts hopping in place. "No more judge talk, no more judge taaalk, no more cleeerks. Speedy business." She sings songs.
Wednesday can't read the waved in the air paper to check for herself what cost a sudden bribe. Wasn’t the briefcase in case of emancipation troubles, what other document could it produce?
Enid smirks at Wednesday’s consternation. "Wanna see?"
The paper is an accepted change name form.
Spelling Enid Iris.
No middle name.
Wednesday glares at her. "Enid."
"Siii, amorcita? What’s the problem?"
"Do you really want Eris to become a placeholder name?"
"Hey, they were my names first and they're cool so I'm just keeping them. And it's not like we're married yet so I'm not taking yours yet." She boops Wednesday’s nose.
"We could be married in an hour. Father is already here to provide parental consent."
"We're not getting married just cause ya want to bury my coolio last name before you get published."
"Little tormenta, how could you expect me to agree to marry you off without the rest of the family present?" Gomez asks dramatically.
Wednesday closes eyes briefly at the betrayal. “Sabes que no quise decir eso, padre.”
“Si, lo sé, nube negra,” her father agrees that he was being obtuse on purpose.
“Ah, guys, translation for the gringa?”
“Father admits to preferring you over me,” Wednesday says and quickly regrets it.
It was clearly the worst explanation she could give if she wanted to avoid more tears before going back to Nevermore. Gomez didn’t get to discuss possible dates for celebratory parties. Not even a quick one for committing a first bribe.
When Wednesday wakes up past midnight Enid is sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by dark fabrics, her hands illuminated by a small lamp she put next to herself. She's too focused to notice Wednesday getting up. Even as her headphones are around her neck and not covering her ears.
“Enid, go to sleep.”
“Mhm.” The tip of the werewolf’s tongue is sticking out as she makes the sound.
Coming closer the needing complete focus action turns out to be embroidery. Enid is stabbing the sleeve of a dark sweater repeatedly with a needle.
“Whatever you’re doing with my clothes, it can wait till morning.”
“I’ll sleep in five minutes.” Enid mumbles.
“Then can you tell me how long you have been doing this for?”
“Like two hours? Maybe less.”
“Did you start at midnight?”
“No?”
“It is two am.”
Enid finally looks up. Wednesday offers her a hand to help her get up. But then Enid pouts at it.
“I might as well finish till you come back.”
“It can’t be more important than your sleep.”
Enid makes a buzzer sound and resumes stabs. “Wrong.”
“I can not be wrong about my own clothes, give up.”
“First of all, I bought those. Second of all you’re sooo mean right now, so shush.”
“If gifted rights are so easily revoked, perhaps I’ll stop accepting.”
“Uh huh.” Enid sounds disconnected from reality again.
After a few seconds it’s clear that the motion is too thought consuming to argue so Wednesday leaves for the kitchen. After cooking she comes back with an additional glass of water since hyperfocused work had to have left Enid dehydrated. She puts it down and goes to store food. As she closes the minifridge Enid wraps arms around her.
“Wanna see what I did?”
“I’m presuming that I will regardless of my answer.”
“Meeeaaan.”
“Yes, Enid, I want to see what got you working so hard.”
“Better.” After a wet cheek kiss Enid hauls her around and sits them down. Then she shows the design on the sleeves. Mostly white suns with golden parts surround the cuff.
“Can ya guess the idea?”
“Signing your territory with your moniker?”
“Kinda. But that’s not it.”
“I do not need visual reminders to think of you.”
Enid smiles into her neck. “Yeah I know. Want a clue?”
“What is it?”
“What did you call me beside the sun?”
“My soul?”
“Another.”
Wednesday stares at the sleeve in thought and sighs.
“Heart.”
Enid squeezes her harder. “Yepp, without me you have no heart for loving and nooow-”
“I can wear my heart on my sleeves.”
The werewolf sways them from side to side. “Yes! You like it?”
“It is disgustingly sappy.”
Enid giggles.
“Now I will have more of a motivation to stop you from stealing them,” Wednesday says.
“Nooo, that’s my girlfriend privilege. All your hoodies and sweaters are mine too.”
“What is mine?”
“My very intentional love. Happy two months pajarito.”
“Congratulations lobita.”
Wednesday really shouldn’t be late to Hummer’s meeting. Eugene is the only person in the whole institution that doesn’t question when she says that she’s fine. Nor questions the validity of her injury excuses. He didn’t complain even a little that she missed previous club meetings because of it either.
Enid is making it really hard not to miss it again. Her hands locked somewhere on seer’s waist. Or maybe under her shirt, splayed out under her bra. Her warm soft tongue is somewhere in Wednesday’s mouth. Or maybe it’s vice versa.
She lost track of what’s happening exactly. Of which bed they are on. Of who’s biting who. Of which side of her neck is bruised up. Is she on Enid’s lap directly or kneeling around it more?
She just faintly remembers that Enid wanted forward payment- or was it back up affection? Something to replace something else in future. Lost time. Lost affection? Projected income?
It was a messy argument that still resulted in a messy state of Wednesday's brain. And neck. Hopefully back if she didn’t imagine the sound of claws at some point. Enid always gets so pink when she's at war with herself if she should propose to lick claw wounds to heal. Wednesday knows that she’s smiling because Enid makes a strangled noise and immediately pauses open mouth kisses to catch a glimpse of the dimple. Just to cover it with another kiss and start a familiar path from it to the neck to spread more purpling color. It will take so long for it to heal into something presentable. Wednesday wants to smile again but is worried that it will get noticed again somehow and distract Enid.
Knocks on the door. Enid doesn’t get distracted by those one bit. Just whines quietly without stopping when Wednesday orients her head towards the source of the sound, hands bracing on Enid’s shoulders.
“Wednesday, you there?”
“Eugene?”
“Yeah so, uh you didn’t text back, if you’re still sick or shoulder still hurts we can postpone again-”
“No, it’s fine, we don’t have to-” the rest of her sentence gets swallowed by Enid’s mouth. Escape is further stopped by the werewolf’s vice grip on the back of her neck and waist.
“I can’t hear you that well-” sound of the door opening. Wednesday breaks Enid’s focus by grazing the werewolf’s scent glands with nails. She only manages to shuffle away enough to notice Eugene’s slight confusion from not finding Wednesday on her own side of the room morphing into something more acute as he stares back and forth between the two girls. His body frozen.
“I said that we don’t have to postpone I just need-”
This time it’s the slam of the door shut as Eugene runs away that interrupts her.
Enid sees it as an invitation to resume what they were doing.
Wednesday’s brain is in a completely new mess. Eugene seemed hurt. Or at least shocked. Which of those or neither should happen, she tries to think. If he’s hurt about Enid being unavailable he shouldn’t ever so that’s not her problem-
No, it wouldn’t be the first time that Eugene is upset that she unexpectedly ditched him for supposedly romantic affairs.
Wait, how unexpected is it really-
It’s hard to think about emotions when Enid doesn’t care. Smothering her with more kisses and bites.
Now that feels deeply wrong. Between the two of them Enid is the one that cares. She notices and cares about hurt feelings, about Wednesday hurting anyone’s feelings and scolds her and says what to do.
But now she’s trying to cover Wednesday’s other side of the neck instead of at least healing the previous marks so that she can go out.
“Enid.”
“Mhm.” Enid stays latched onto her skin.
“I- I think Eugene is hurt. I should-”
“Club stuff can’t be that serious.” Enid mumbles out before sucking on a patch of skin.
Lucifer, did she ever tell him that they’re together? “It’s- well- he has- had? Feelings for you? And-”
“Not my problem.” Enid says and Wednesday has enough of being interrupted.
She clamps Enid’s mouth shut and away with hand. She’s ready to do more but Enid just fully freezes. No playful lick or bite. Just a hit of anxiety in her eyes. And taking her arms away from the seer’s body. Wednesday takes away the hand. Enid stays frozen. Eyes widened.
Wednesday focuses on the fact that she has her full attention.
“Last time I abandoned him for what he thought was a romantic endeavor he nearly died.”
Blue eyes seem completely empty until Enid blinks forcefully while regaining her breath. “That’s- yeah, well it wasn’t your fault- yeah you’re right you should go talk to him. You can- no, I’ll apologize to him for holding you up myself next time I’ll see him,” she looks away “ I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Her hands go up to rub at her neck nervously, still so pink from her blush.
Wednesday dazedly remembers that Enid has sleepover plans with her friends for today.
No motion feels correct to do at the moment. She doesn’t know what’s the protocol for the so tense goodbye. Enid not looking at her. Something inside the seer feels taut at the lack of a bright smile. Is Enid just trying to hold herself back to not push them into another drowning of good chemicals?
Wednesday gingerly takes the pink cheeks between her hands and plants a soft kiss on the bridge of the nose. Where it should be surrounded by a happy scrunch.
Enid’s face twitches a few times before she giggles and smiles wide enough for Wednesday to relax.
“How much can I tell him about us?” the goth asks.
Enid freezes again, even if just for one hold of a breath, holding her smile too. “However much you want. Oh, I left one saved cookie for you on your desk, don’t forget that. Bye linda.” Enid kisses both hands caressing her face.
“Enjoy your sleepover.”
Wednesday finds Eugene amongst the beehives, surrounded by bees and eating whole honeycombs. With some kind of upset expression in his face.
She’s fully lost on what to do about it. There’s no one to punch to fix it. Best she could do is punch herself but that would only ever benefit herself and offend others.
So she just sits in front of him, silently, hoping that he will propose what she could do exactly. Signaling non abandonment at least.
He finally looks up at her after a few minutes. “Were you actually hurt, sick and busy?”
“Yes.”
He nods and sways back and forth, taking another bite. Wednesday cringes at the sticky texture coating his fingers.
“I was thinking of asking again with new rumors about it if you changed your stance on dating. Even if I-” his lip wobbles.
She faintly remembers getting irritated at his questions last semester, questions replacing discussions on how to court Enid.
Did everyone really know before her?
Infuriating.
But the current problem is that her automatic silence on the topic associated with such a long dismissal is what upset Eugene.
Well.
She might have forgotten that they’re not actually siblings so he couldn’t have gotten Cousin’s Wake message about an engagement party.
“I’ve been with her since she left her family.”
“Two months?!”
“I see my failing in appointing a limit of two unsolicited questions on each topic into the Hive Code now.”
“No mames! Two months! Are we even really beesties?”
“Yes Eugene.”
“Beesties tell each other when they start dating the cutest girl in school.” he grumbles.
“I forgot that you’re not really my brother and- It was complicated.”
“It’s not! You just got over your bullcrap-"
"Eugene." Wednesday tries hissing at him but he ignores it.
"-and finally got with her while- oh damn you like almost eloped, did you elope? Now it seems like you totally abducted her for marriage, oh my bees-"
"Stop assuming-" Wednesday tries again but he ignores her again so she presses the heels of her hands into her eye socket and attempts calming breaths to not blow up at him.
"I wasn’t at your wedding nooo, how could you do this to me? Not being the best man is one thing but-”
“Will you stop being upset if I answer your questions?” she says tiredly and it miraculously works.
“Unless I still can’t ask more than 2 about stuff.”
Wednesday sighs and nods silently.
“I promise no TMI, your neck is uhm, kinda already enough, it’s just-, hey, did you didn’t want to talk about it cause you’re not mates-”
“Of course we are.” Wednesday snarls.
“Then why do you look like you got mauled-”
“Because usually Enid doesn’t let me out of the room without healing first but you were-” she notices Eugene’s widening of eyes “stop using your imagination”
“I’m not! Well now that you said it-”
“I said stop.”
“The bees are saying that your back is bleeding!”
Wednesday blinks. Her shirt is indeed sticking to her back.
And she won’t see Enid till the morning.
Why did she had to bloody promise-
“Well that at least explicitly contradicts half of the rumors I've been meaning to ask about.” Eugene says.
“What?”
“Not like I actually believed that you would do like- okay so- well-”
“Spit it out.”
“Half the school thinks you hurt your shoulder trying to like- like- outpower werewolf strength- or something- I didn’t mean to actually ask about that! Total TMI, uh, well I also didn’t believe the previous dating rumors but this time they’re true so I don’t know anymore-”
“Eugene, start making sense, what rumors?”
“Well, last semester they started when Enid broke out of her lupin cage just to come back dragging you into it, so, you know, everyone thought that you’re dating, so, well, no, that’s not when they started, there were so many, like when you sent a guy to infirmary for looking at Enid’s butt- which kind of insane cause I’m pretty sure that was when she was still dating Ajax and obviously you’d kill him first-”
“Eugene.”
“Okay! Short version! Dating rumors, lotsa times, I didn’t know how to ask directly without dying and just trusted you’d tell me otherwise, and they always would die off like so quickly. Some of them mean cause Enid was still with Ajax. But the current ones, well, not dead and got stronger after you got injured and also really super mean, partly cause furs and Enid being technically a lone wolf now. Partly cause well, you- you’re my beestie you know right- but not a lot of people are good at appreciating you and knowing that you’re not really bad-”
“Don’t sugarcoat.”
“People don’t like you and think you’re a controlling sadist.”
Wednesday blinks. “And that colors the dating part.”
“Ye-yeah.”
“Negatively.” She grits her teeth.
Eugene nods.
She takes a measured breath. “She didn’t tell me- I am but I don’t-”
“I know. I know.”
“Then what could you ask about?!”
“Are you happy?”
Wednesday deflates and stares at him for a beat, processing the vague question and its possible meanings. “Right now, no.” Her hand goes up to touch her neck, pressing at the bruise.”Around her, yes. Disgustingly so.”
“I’m sorry. And congrats? Hey, I did thought that if not me then you deserve the best, you know?” He looks as if he’s about to propose sharing the honey.
When did this change into comforting her and not him? Her eyebrows furrow. This was supposed to be her making up for professing too little. Wednesday swallows and looks away. “She dragged me into the cage after a stupid fight. I misunderstood her sarcasm about not needing me. And I didn’t send the idiot to the infirmary, just threatened him. And the injury- how on earth did that-” Lilith, she feels stupid. Gossip is so nonsensical.
“I don’t know- well, you do look super angry sometimes when she touches you so even though obviously if you didn’t really want it the touch wouldn’t happen at all and people talk about how on edge she looks in between classes when you’re not around, kinda panicky I guess? Especially-”
“Meal times?”
“Yeah.”
“She dislocated my shoulder during dinner.”
“Oh shee- What? Why?”
“Pulled me by my hand too strongly by accident. She still doesn’t know that she did it. And- she might have been in a panic about getting drugged.”
“That’s- sounds messed up. Should I really-”
“It’s fine. During summer her mother kept her drugged for weeks until I got her out.”
“Oh gods. That does sound complicated. I don’t- you know that you don’t have to tell me-”
“I do. Noone else will believe the truth apparently.”
“What truth?”
“That it wasn’t I that drugged her with Mate Seeker.”
“...shit.”
“Out of questions?”
“...do you wanna beat someone up?”
He’s doing the comforting again. Wednesday closes her eyes as she curls up.
No. She doesn’t want that. It’s awful.
What she wants is Enid to hug her and tell that everything is fine. That her reputation isn’t important. That it’s not a problem how it might affect Enid. Them. That they will stay together. That her nightmares are just nightmares.
“She did propose to me while high. Not that it really counted but I wouldn’t marry her without you there.”
Eugene smiles. “Well, it’s no best man proposal pero gracias beestie. Bee time or- yeah the bees are saying you’re still bleeding.”
Wednesday sighs. “I will need a hand. A clean one."
Dream visions are Wednesday’s least favorite part of being a Seer. Just like psychometric visions offer electrical paralysis without the burns, prophetic raven visions are like nightmares without the delicious adrenaline, stealing away the real nightmare’s time.
It took her a while to tell the difference.
And it was extremely infuriating to learn what Xavier once meant by desire skewing the powers. There was a preconceived narrative when they started that they fit right into. Goody’s words about lonely destiny. That it wasn’t the consequences of her own actions. Just fate.
The first time was just after her birthday. When Enid left. Her first dream about an unknown, crushingly lonely cold room. Just a dream by itself.
Enid came back. No dream that night. No dreams between school closing and emergency break starting.
And then deja vu for the whole winter break.
New semester, no dreams.
She forgot about them. They were just dreams. Not fading from memory immediately after waking, and consistent, but they went away, so surely just dreams. Just an occasional blip of her mind. They couldn’t coincide with Enid’s sleepovers outside. Sometimes she’d feel like a fight with Enid had already happened before but the terrifying room was gone so she was safe.
Spring break and she could draw the specific travel typewriter from the room from memory again. Spring break and after a convoluted conversation with mother she had to accept that her powers haunt her nightmares. Occasionally. They can’t have a clear sense though. It’s not like they have an obvious trigger like with touch. At most the reason for them had to be her own bed in the manor. She had to misremember the nights after her birthday. That was the only clue. The only pattern. The only one. The only. The only. The only.
That broke completely after saving Enid. But it is hard to notice the absence of something when you don't want to think about it. About the implications. The warning. The grim promise of abandonment-
If she let herself pay attention she would know that she should expect the dream to come back with the absence of Enid.
Wretched shiny typewriter keys don't abort her mind even when she shifts awake on the bed, aggravating the dressed claw wounds. The choking solitude and overwhelming cold still affect her when she gets up.
She wants to breathe. She doesn’t want to freeze. She doesn’t want the cold. She wants it gone. Gone, gone, gone. Go. She interrupts the wave of hands as she runs to slow down and wrap them around herself- she’s not sure when she went out of the room.
Her feet got her to Tanaka’s room. Enid is on the other side.
Enid.
Wednesday clenches her fist. And releases. And clenches. Puts it up to knock. Falls. Releases.
Clench-
The door opens by an inch and red eyes drills into her.
“Unless it's an emergency, not even a word.” The vampire quietly hisses.
Wednesday stares back unflinchingly.
Tanaka rolls her eyes dramatically. “Do you know how bloody hard it was to get her to sleep? I’m surprised your steps didn’t wake her up but if you say anything she’ll probably snap awake, so state your emergency or drag your ass back.”
Wednesday opens her mouth and then closes it.
It's not important. Her stupid visions aren't important.
The apprehension in red eyes is palpable.
She's seen as controlling as it is. She just turns away and forces her rigid muscles to walk.
A mutter of "yeah, I thought so," still reaches her.
She went to cook early. She finished early. At least as far as food being done. Not yet put in the container to leave exactly.
She doesn’t have the will to get up from the kitchen isle and go back. She stares down the clock instead.
Tick.
Tock.
She forgot about the cookies that Enid made. There’s probably a saccharine note with them.
Tick.
Tock.
Enid will be upset if she doesn’t open the gift.
The ticking of the clock can't be heard from under the clicks of heels.
"Good evening, ma cheri."
"You're up late, mère."
“And you have been here awhile, mon corbeau.”
Raven.
Why does she have to be a raven?
Tick.
Tock.
“Are you sitting here because you want to?” her mother asks, from a closer distance. Wednesday’s gaze is too stuck to see from where.
Tick.
Tock.
Idea that admitting her mother’s assumption is right as always only makes her body rev up the flight or fight mode.
Tick.
Tock.
And yet she is only more stuck.
Tick.
Tock.
“I’m surprised you didn’t exploit my frequent trips back to ambush me like this earlier, mother.”
The most quiet sigh closer again. Quieter than the suddenly seamless steps.
Tick.
Tock.
A sound of a moving chair. A dark figure in the periphery.
And then silence again.
Except for-
Tick.
Tock.
No movement closer. Like Wednesday is a skittish pet. Not domesticated. Easily compelled to fly away without a promise to come back.
Unlike doves.
Tick.
Tock.
Glorified pigeons.
Tick.
Tock.
Messengers.
Tick.
Tock.
Oldest domesticated birds.
Tick.
Tock.
Multiple ways of reading surroundings.
Tick.
Tock.
Always finding home.
Tick.
Tock.
“What would you do if you repeatedly dreamed of a vision without dad in it?”
Tick.
“Wait for it. Frequent repeats usually means I won’t have to meddle to make it true.”
Tick that she almost doesn’t hear over the sudden roar of her heart.
Morticia continues “but I’m guessing you don’t simply mean that it just isn’t about your father.”
No.
Tick.
What would be the equivalent for a dove?
Tock.
“What if you saw yourself with someone else.”
Tick.
“I would make it so it involves him too.”
“Elaborate.”
Tock.
“If that happiness comes, I will ensure it’s on my terms.” Tock. “And my terms mean your father is alive, happy and mine too.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
“If you don’t have context, create the most favorable one, mijita.”
“I don’t understand how you still have a French accent in Spanish, ma,” Wednesday lies.
Dad likes it. The sound of a non native speaking Spanish for him.
“And I wonder why the stove is on when you’re not watching it.”
Wednesday springs up from her seat to check if her mother lied too.
She didn’t.
Smell of coal hits her. She grits her teeth as she stares at the ruined meal. Sounds hurt her ears.
Wednesday almost throws the food at the clock.
But when she looks at it, it’s quiet already. Unmoving. Silenced.
The most recent clacks were her mother’s steps to look at the food too.
Drum of long pale fingers against lips in thought before falling down to fix Wednesday’s braid so they’re symmetrically both in front of the chest.
No movement beyond that.
No comments.
No verbal offer to help.
Just standing close.
In a now soundless, clockless kitchen.
Wednesday looks up at her. “Wretched nightmares, maman.”
Morticia smiles. “Dreamless night darling,” she says softly and quietly leaves.
Wednesday sighs and takes out ingredients for a meal she doesn’t have to watch motionlessly while making.
After stashing the food Wednesday ignores her bed. Instead she turns on her desk lamp to look at her typewriter. Appraising the machine while letting the memory of a dream come out of the heavy locked safe she put it in.
Matte, old metal keys. Black machine with a minimal skeleton in front of her. Portable, but in her dreams the model has a built in case for travel specifically. The most glaring difference aside from the blurry name being in the wrong place. Definitely not the Jewel brand, much shinier and modern. Possibly more common. Not a specific one that would be hard to get a hold of unless in a specific sequence of events. Malleable circumstances?
Not a used antique. She wouldn’t be using the future machine with help of instinctual talent granted as a side effect of psychometry. No more reliance on her earliest supernatural skill sign. Will she become comfortable enough for a change like this?
Separate model for travel?
If yes, why travel?
If traveling, why alone?
Running away?
From what?
Who?
No, she should be traveling.
But why alone and miserable.
Why away from Enid?
Wednesday closes her eyes and takes a haggard breath.
She reaches for the snack gift on the desk. Just touches it.
It’s probably delicious. What if her brain decides to interpret the stimuli as an annoying intruder and wastes it? With a note full of new elaborate nicknames. What if she loses it before remembering it by heart?
“Don’t tell me you plan to eat it only after staying up all night writing,” a sleepy voice grumbles.
Wednesday’s eyes open immediately. She freezes while appraising what she can. She’s still in her dorm. Still at the desk. Cookies still unopened under her fingers. It’s still night. Her spine isn’t uncomfortable.
“Come on dormilona, I warmed the bed already. I’m so lonely in it,” Enidlike voice says.
Experiencing psychosis isn’t an uncommon side effect of being a seer.
Wednesday slowly moves her head towards the bed. Black bed is occupied by a groggy werewolf.
A pouty wolfgirl waving her arm over the bed. "Mimir tiiime. Sleepy tiempo. Pwetty pwease. Pow- hehe paw favor." Quiet shting of claws alongside a giggle.
The blue eye shine stays after turning off the lamp. Wednesday steps cautiously towards the bed.
Enid smiles sleepily and scoots, getting on her knees to give space for Wednesday to lay. "Yay, we goin mimir."
"I can't sleep on my back."
"Hm? Oh okay, I be bottom bunk now." And Enid falls heavily before opening her arms.
"My back is scratched open," Wednesday cautiously clarifies.
"Aw, my moon is hurt. My heart. No, I'm heart. My liver. What other organ ya wanna be?" Enid asks while pulling on her sleeve.
"Moon is an organ?" Wednesday responds while kneeling around her bed intruder’s hips.
"It is a bio affecting- hey, I'm bio affecting! Wan kiss and you'll be okay." Enid reaches out to caress her face.
"Stop acting cute. I'm already in bed." Wednesday leans in, still appraising her face.
Enid pouts again. "Act? I'm adorbs!"
Bright eyes interrupt getting used to the dark and obstruct Wednesday’s already minimal skill at reading face expressions.
"I do adore you. But I should leave you for paw pun alone."
“Nooo.” Enid tries locking her arms around the tan neck.
"You'd have to earn my love all over again or trick me like last time."
"I would, every time. All the time."
“You would?”
"Yesh and I'm here so it's all okies. No leaving. We mimir." Enid pulls down around Wednesday’s neck and lower back. Successfully. And then nuzzles their cheeks together.
The raven lets her, finally accepting this is all too sweet to be a fruit of her exhausted imagination tormenting her.
"Why are you here in the first place?"
Enid adjusts their position and then pats Wednesday’s butt. "So you be okay."
"Were you okay?"
A tension in the muscles of her holding cell. "Hmmm, no, too cold," Enid ends up mumbling into her mate’s neck.
It doesn’t explain anything.
"I'm not warm."
"But ya can't beat a vampire in coldness. Brrr. Nuh huh. So I sneaked."
"Sneaked," Wednesday echoes warily.
"Ye, out. So sneaky- ah shitballs I gotta…" Enid reaches for her phone and squints at the sudden light. She mumbles to herself as she types. And types.
And types.
Lying without constraints prickles unsettled.
"Enid?"
"Shhh, I'm trying- this keeps sounding too spicy."
"What does?"
"Sleeping with you. But I'm just so eepy."
"Why does it matter?" Wednesday asks tiredly.
"I gotta be clear. So clear. I'm okie and you're okie, it's all okie. Hmm, what if I'll be mean."
"Mean how?"
"No I can't. Hmm, spicy it is. Even if we shouldn't." Enis puts away the phone. She sighs deeply when resuming a careful lock around the smaller body, burying nose in the nearest patch of skin. Confining any unsteadiness.
"Shouldn't what?"
Only a growly snore responds. Louder than Wednesday’s thoughts.
It’s impossible not to sleep too. The bonds surrounding her are too grounding.
There can’t be anything beyond them.