Young and in Love - Wenclair

into you

"I will fight for you."

Enid was barely conscious. It felt as though she were knocked over the head and dragged through pavement, the way her words were slurred- her movements slurred, all the same. But her mouth moved quicker than her mind, or door-knocking-fist, and that was normal.That was just who she was, and she cursed her parents more than usual for such a thing.

Wednesday stood in the doorway of the dorm room she had moved back into after her period of suspension she spent at the Addams manor, leaning against the panelling with crossed arms and a hardly noticeable frown creased in the soft skin of her forehead.

The frown was more of a hairs breath tilt of her brow, but Enid knew it well. Knew her well. Knew what every tiny movement of her lips meant, what every varying clench of her jaw warned. She knew Wednesday better than she knew anything else- better than she knew the trophies she treasured or the iron-burned creases in her uniform.

"I'd rather be filled with mercury."
Was Wednesday's flat response, voice laced with sleep as she glowered glassily at the blonde.

Their falling out had been rough. Wednesday had woken up one morning six months ago with the sense something was off. And as she sat up, and a note fluttered off her arm X-crossed chest, she found the goodbye note from the blonde she'd grown... tolerant of, the past semester.

It was rough and a pain to read- more a pain to her own creative ability then anything else, but the carved out hole made from werewolf claws and soft fingertips was gnawing at her ribs was far more excruciating than she ever felt. So excruciating, she cried.

For the first time ever- aside Nero's death, she cried.

Because the one person she could stand- would allow to hug her without a knife jutting out their spine afterward, would let steal her favourite and only hoodie, would allow to drag her to stupid fucking school dances just to see that idiotic, annoying smile on her painfully beautiful face, had betrayed her.

And all Enid could leave her with, was:

I have to go. I'm sorry. - yours.

Yours. What a joke.
And her hoodie tucked neatly at the end of her bed was the punchline at the end of this sick treachery.

It made her want to rip her own skin off. So, instead, she set the dorm ablaze- trying to ward off the warm scent of the blonde atrocity she had let herself care for, terrorized more people then ever before, beat Ajax down six ways from Sunday all because she could. All because that was the only person Enid had seemed to ever genuinely care for.

She knew that because she had been stood, then kneeling, then laying, by Enid's side as she sobbed over whatever stupid thing the boy had done- always motioning for Thing to commit atrocities against him to never be spoken of. All for Enid.

Because Enid was the sun; hot and cruel like the sun, but so warm and all-encompassing. And for once, Wednesday Addams allowed colour and light to touch her.

She had tortured people, but nothing was as torturous as the gaping wound in her chest no amount of homicidal rage could fill.

So she stared, unblinking, at the mess standing at her door.

Her door. And her room. Because the room was painted over in all black, the second bed still charred remains on the ground, something Thing would burrow into seemingly heartbroken at the loss as well.

But Wednesday was not broken. She was hallowed out, and empty, as she always had been. Simply more scarred than ever before.

Enid had gone away, on a drinking spree to sedate the odd feeling she was harbouring for her murder-fun room mate. To drown away her parents dissapointment, to drown away the fact she couldn't transform still. To drown away a depression that'd been eating at her for years she plastered behind smiles and pink sweaters.