#but I'm gonna try and commit to 10-11 days as opposed to weekly because man

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Old Wounds - Wenclair fanfic, chapter 25

Description: Now aged 22, Wednesday Addams is an up-and-coming author. Her time at Nevermore is well behind her, and she is alone, and that suits her just fine...But when a 'new' neighbour shows up in her apartment building, she'll truly be tested on whether her "bad habit" of caring truly has been broken. (Hint: It hasn't.)  

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Mature (Fic is fully SFW up to Chapter 20)

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The afternoon turns to evening with a slowness Wednesday can only describe as torturous.

Not in a fun way, unfortunately.

Following her mother’s mention of marriage, the conversation divulged further into her mother’s hopes for Wednesday and Enid’s future. Suffice to say, Wednesday quickly excused herself from the conversation and returned to her room. This is where she finds herself now, still ruminating over the words exchanged.

It is a fortuitous thing that her Mother thinks so highly of her relationship with Enid. Wednesday knows many people would find their pairing odd, or unfitting, and frankly she could not give less of a shit about that...but if her mother did not approve? Well. That is less easy to brush off. Impossible, perhaps.

But the mention of marriage? Now this has thrown Wednesday for a loop. Which – considering her general demeanour – is quite a feat.

Wednesday is sitting at a vanity table across from her bed. She watches Enid as she sleeps, and wonders what the future holds for them. Wednesday never expected to get to this point so she has never thought to humour the idea of anything more. Her future was always so clearly laid out before her prior to this; prior to Enid’s return. So, It is both somewhat imposing and slightly frustrating to feel an uncertainty about what is awaiting her.

As always, Wednesday hates not knowing.

Truthfully, it seems it is not the initial suggestion of marriage at all that causes Wednesday’s mental stumble. No, it is not the idea that getting married in the future is upsetting, which frankly, any precious iteration of herself would have balked at immediately. What it seems to be; what causes Wednesday to feel at odds is the casual nature in which it is mentioned. It is the way her mother brings it up, nonplussed and simple, that causes Wednesday this pause.

Because it’s clearly just so simple, right?

However, Wednesday is not someone who dates, or has dated historically to be more accurate. This is not a wheelhouse in which she is familiar, and it has been a particular source of frustration over the last...well, few months, technically – two weeks officially, of course.

It has been an uphill battle of learning, and adapting, and figuring out how these things work. Wednesday knows there are milestones in dating, sure, but what is the timeline for it? When should they happen? Should some of them happened already that haven’t yet?!

Wednesday can barely hold Enid’s hand in public yet; has to treat their affections like a closely held secret… So how does it seem fair to throw the idea of marriage into the mix when the days are so early?

Of course, there is progress behind closed doors; in the private intimate moments no one sees...those moments are what Wednesday lives for; what brings her confidence, when she gets to release the grating awkwardness of public affectations and show Enid how she feels without the prying eyes of strangers who do not deserve to bare witness anyway. Even so, Wednesday is yet to crest the hill of many things regarding private intimacy – with frankly little idea of how long it will take her to tackle the next steps.

Wednesday scowls at herself now, and at her own rapidly snowballing thoughts. It is ridiculous and unrelenting. She knows it is best to jump off this train of thought before she runs herself into a pit of misery… but, unfortunately for her, her mother’s words have a way of sticking around.

And now, as she considers the future, Wednesday’s mind also runs to the past. What she and Enid have now is all they have to show for six years. Two years at nevermore, growing and caring – only for Wednesday to disappear; isolate herself, regress. Add on four years, a fateful meeting and now it is all being turned around again. It is a lot of time… and there is still so far to go.

Wednesday has only ever cared about going at her own pace; never caring about the speed of those around her, nor if they think she should change her own… but now, as she sits watching, waiting for Enid to awaken, she is struck with a concern that maybe it is taking her too long – or has taken her too long. Enid has waited so far but can that last? Could Enid really desire more years of patience?

As someone often impatient in her own pursuits, Wednesday feels an increasing frustration at how time blind she has been. She is like a fish trying to climb a tree. Evolution is coming for her slowly, but she’s still not quite there and there is no telling how much time it will take.

So, coming full circle, how can Wednesday even marginally consider marriage and an endless future with Enid – even if she wants it – when she is so painfully aware of the investment it will take to reach so many milestones before it?

Ugh. This is exhausting.

Wednesday continues watching Enid. She silently seethes at this idea so unceremoniously planted in her head by her mother. It is uncouth and unfair, and making her act strangely, for certain...

And that still isn’t fully analysing the fact that the marriage suggestion itself doesn’t make her skin crawl.

Wednesday is unwilling to explore that particular thought further. She’s had enough of thinking as it is.

She stands from the chair and stiffly shuffles over to the free side of the bed. She carefully climbs atop the sheets, hugging her knees to her chest, and looks down to Enid asleep aside her. Enid stirs, eliciting a mumble of noise.

“Wends?” Enid slurs. Her voice is thick with sleep, barely conscious. “Is that you?”

“No, it’s an axe murderer,” Wednesday replies bluntly.

Enid makes a noise halfway between a smirk and a tired grumble. She rolls over to face Wednesday, nuzzling her face into the pillow. Her eyes remain closed but the gentle twitch of her eyelids indicates she is – in fact – stirring from her sleep. Perhaps she has been for a while.

“Axe murderer wouldn’t say that,” Enid mumbles indignantly with a yawn. She pulls one of her arms from under the sheets, and blindly reaches out, padding her hand across Wednesday’s side. “Mmm, not murderer. Girlfriend.”

Wednesday feels the electric tension in her body settle slightly at Enid’s conduit touch.

“I can be your girlfriend and an axe murderer.”

Enid blinks her eyes open. Staring blearily up at Wednesday, she then squints, as if analysing what she sees. “You prefer knives.”

Wednesday quirks an eyebrow.

“An astute observation.”

Enid smiles gently, humouring Wednesday’s reply. She stretches out, then shuffles so she’s angled upwards in the bed, lightly drooping against Wednesday’s side. Enid’s body is warm; soft – and this warmth bleeds into Wednesday’s cold flesh, prodding Wednesday away from her icy, distant disposition.

“Promise you won’t go all Ghostface, though?” Enid asks.

Wednesday makes an unamused noise..

“Please, the Ghostface killers in those movies are all amateurs. My murders wouldn’t be so predictable.”

“I fully believe you.” Enid replies, yawning again.

The light banter is an effective temporary mood lifter. Wednesday is not dragged entirely away from her focus has been laying, but she is able to find momentary peace from Enid’s soft and gentle awakening… But even so; even with Enid’s distracting, Wednesday cannot meet her gaze. Her eyes remain firmly staring out into the room, or at the bed sheets. Enid does not notice… or at least, she does not notice immediately.

It’s only after a few more exchanges; once the conversation dies down and Wednesday cannot keep up the facade, and Enid is fully awake, that she begins to realise.

Wednesday sees Enid’s brows furrow in thought. It’s out the corner of her eye, but it’s unmistakable. When worried concern knits into Enid’s expression it is like a sunshine at a funeral – which is to say, it is seems out of place; wrong, in many senses of the word. It’s also hard to miss. Wednesday knows Enid’s brain is ticking away at what may have transpired in the last few hours whilst she slept.

Wednesday says nothing. She simply waits for the question.

“...What did your mom say to you?” Enid enquires.

And, just like that. Nail on the head.

Wednesday turns her head to Enid. She lightly grinds her jaw, hesitant in finding the words. Wednesday does not want to find them, perhaps… This kind of emotional intimacy has always been the least tasteful in Wednesday’s mind. It is one thing to grow and accept love in it’s various intimate forms – but to spell out your concerns and doubts in full earnest? It makes Wednesday’s stomach feel like a chasm. It is one of the things she detests most.

But… she can see the sincerity in Enid’s expression; feel the warmth that emanates from all that she is. It’s just Enid. Her Enid, and she wants to help.

And like Wednesday told her mother - Enid makes emotions feel safe.

So...perhaps she just has to try.

“Yes. My mother and I talked.” Wednesday says flatly after a moment. It is a slow start, but one nonetheless. “She mentioned something rather… prematurely.”

Wednesday then sighs – at herself, mostly. This already feels like pulling teeth, and not in a fun way. “And I may have had a negative reaction to what she spoke of.” She adds.

Enid frowns thoughtfully.

“She must’ve said something totally awful, then?”

Wednesday shakes her head slightly. The concerning feeling in her stomach seems to only grow further as she carefully considers her next words, her discomfort growing akin to vines wrapping their way around her internal organs and squeezing out their usual tenacity.

“In truth, I believe most people would find what she said quite delightful…”

There’s a pause. Wednesday’s eyes dare to flick upwards and meet Enid’s for a brief second. She expects to find a measure of reluctance strike at Enid’s deep questioning gaze, but what Wednesday sees from Enid is in fact a loving concern, and what hits her instead is a sheepish desire for this to be easier.

Maybe one day it will be.

“...But as you are aware, I am not like most people.” Wednesday continues, her voice stilted.

“You’re not,” Enid agrees, smiling softly. “But that’s what I love about you.”

Enid brings one of her hands to Wednesday’s own. She does not squeeze it as she normally would, but just lets it rest, giving Wednesday control to pull away if she wishes. Enid smiles then, gentle and encouraging.

Wednesday looks at Enid’s hand. She takes in a heavy breath. Something about Enid’s touch; her smile, her intentional yet quiet way of encouraging is something Wednesday will always be undone by. So few can command things from Wednesday with so little, whilst also seeming unobtrusive. This emboldening zeal of Enid’s fights against Wednesday’s displeasure for sharing and it perhaps does not win outright, but it certainly gives Wednesday a push to keep going.

“My mother… She mentioned marriage.”

Enid splutters out a cough.

“I’m sorry- She- What?!”

“Marriage, Enid. She sees it in our future.” Wednesday reiterates. She’s then quiet for a minute, steeling herself. Her heart beats loudly in her ears. “And then… Well it is not without saying that our journey has been particularly strange. I find myself concerning over things I have yet to encounter and it, perhaps, occurred to me that…” Wednesday’s voice trails off, stuck for the final words.

Enid looks at her patiently.

And god, how Wednesday is jarred by the empathy she is offered every time. Perhaps it is no surprise she finds herself concerned about diminishing returns when every compassionate moment still finds a way to shock her.

“It occurred to me that… You have been incredibly patient in a world where most people grow weary of me quickly. For good reason. However, no one is endlessly patient and I thought that maybe-”

“-I would get tired of waiting?” Enid asks, finishing the statement so Wednesday does not have to.

It is a small mercy amongst the many Enid already offers.

Wednesday sighs.

“...Yes.”

Enid’s smile saddens slightly, but she does not seem overly upset at the admission. She shuffles a little, so she can face Wednesday more directly, offering a gaze so tender that Wednesday cannot help but be lost in it once she finally dares to look back up.

“Hey,” Enid coos. “It’s okay. Everyone gets a little anxious about relationships sometimes especially when parents start saying shit… But Wends, I’m not planning on going anywhere. The marriage thing is uh, something we can put on ice though. Little early for that.”

Enid lets out an awkward half-laugh on the marriage comment. It seems to discomfort her too slightly, which makes Wednesday feel a little better about her own feelings towards it.

Wednesday nods slowly, taking heed of Enid’s words. Her immediate anguish seems tamed by them, at the very least. Undoubtedly though, there is still a grumble of angst that lurks in Wednesday’s bones, but this is perhaps simply her cross to bare as she wades into the tepid waters of expressing her feelings. It is still distasteful...but as of now, there is only evidence that Enid can and will respond in kind.

Wednesday shifts the hand that Enid’s is covering, fidgeting slightly until their fingers intertwine. She stares at their hands then, tracing the patterns of Enid’s nail polish with her eyes.

“How do I prevent this doubt, then?” Wednesday asks quietly, an edge of frustration laced in her words. “Doubt is illogical to me. It is not something I generally have, let alone share.”

Enid offers an empathetic look.

“Well...ya kinda don’t? You just have to trust.”

“Trust?”

“Yeah, trust that I love you, and that you love me… and that we’ll, y’know, stick together.”

Wednesday glances back to Enid. She takes pause to consider it.

“I see... That does make sense.”

And truthfully, it does. How strangely simple it seems in hindsight.

“Plus, we’ll definitely try to keep your mom away from any more marriage comments. Even I am totally weirded out by that.” Enid adds, making a silly grossed-out expression.

She’s perking up now, trying to bring the mood to somewhere less dire. Wednesday would often prefer to wallow in her darkness, but admittedly, she is quietly grateful for this. This particular subject is one she would rather lay to rest in the deepest grave imaginable.

Though, considering that sentiment, perhaps this drab mood will be a little more difficult to shift.

“That would be preferable,” Wednesday replies flatly. “This has been exhausting.”

Enid rests her head gently against Wednesday’s shoulder. She lets out a lengthy exhale.

“It’s sure been a day, hasn’t it, dear?”

Wednesday feels a sudden small flutter in her heart at the new pet name… And,okay, she should definitely not be so easily dragged from her misery, but dammit - there is something so validating about hearing such a phrase from Enid’s own lips. Particularly after what has just passed... Maybe these grumbling doubts will take some wicked grip on her again another day, but for now, Wednesday thinks her malcontent sufficiently diffused.

“There is still a ways to go. There is dinner, and evening entertainment.” Wednesday reminds.

Enid rubs at her eyes.

“You’re right... Guess we better go face it together, huh?”

With that, Enid throws the sheets off herself and clambers from the bed. She scuttles over to her bag, picking up her tights and skirt from earlier that she had evidently replaced with sweatpants for her nap. She changes in a matter of seconds, giving a little twirl as she finishes, before taking a few steps back over to the bed. Enid then extends her hand towards Wednesday.

“C’mon,” She hums.

Wednesday climbs off the bed. Taking Enid’s hand in her own, Wednesday takes strength from the familiar static tingle that she finds in Enid’s touch. Things are not perfect, but they’re okay… more important, they are okay. She and Enid, that is.

Wednesday looks at Enid.

“Before we go…”

Enid looks back at Wednesday with a puzzled smile.

“I love you, Enid.”

Enid practically glows. Her face breaks out into a wide, adoring grin.

“I love you too, Wends.”

And then, they trail out of the room, ready to face whatever the rest of the night throws their way.