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Roselyn was walking with Xavier to his art shed that night, having a deep discussion about families. He was opening up about how harsh his father is, sending him to get extra private sessions with Dr Kinbott to 'fix his problematic son' so the media didn't find out.
"But there's nothing wrong with you, not in the way he makes it seem. You're not some 'problem' to be dealt with... You're a human being too," she reassured him, stroking his hand briefly. She was silent, thinking about her next words. "No offence, but I think your dad's a douche."
He chuckled humourlessly, "Yeah, that's a pretty accurate description." He looked over at her as his shed came closer to their vision.
"Hey," she whispered, almost conspiring. "When we all have to go home for the holidays, I think we should plan a getaway. I can drive, I'll be the getaway driver. We could go somewhere with no shitty adults," she smiled tentatively, eyes sparkling at the notion. "Escape this hellhole and be normal for a minute."
He looked down at her, fully smiling. "Sounds like a dream. Where do you wanna go?"
As he opened the door, they both stepped in to see Wednesday Addams near the corner. She was waiting.
Xavier scoffed, appalled at the pig-tailed girl. "You know what? You need to stay out of my space."
She toyed with the dagger in her hand, Roselyn noticing it was her own Aiyers dagger. "You need to take your own advice," she looked at Roselyn, eyes piercing holes into her. "You left this in Thing." Roselyn went to argue that, but Wednesday moved on. "How long have you been seeing Kinbott?"
"Have you...? What am I saying? of course you have. You've been spying on me, right?" Xavier looked gobsmacked at the lengths the girl would go to find herself answers. He moved closer, swiping the dagger from her hands, twirling it around his slender fingers. "'Cause I'm the villain in your fantasy."
"My father thinks that my mental health is a PR problem that he needs to manage. He wanted to keep his troubled son out of the tabloids..." He looked up, looking sincere. "I wasn't in your room. Believe me or don't believe me, I don't care. Just don't drag Roselyn into this."
Wednesday looked at the quiet brunette, "It's her dagger."
Roselyn scoffed, "I have barely been in the dorm room lately. I just grab my clothes and leave. Besides, why would I hurt Thing? You act as if you have never met me. You know I wouldn't do that to him."
Wednesday ignored her. "Your painting's been improving. I enjoy this one in particular," she pulled off the cloth on a painting of Dr. Kimbott's mauled face. "Feels like you really lived it."
"What do you want?" They were both sick of this now.
"I'm asking questions," she sniped back, moving to his desk. "What is Rowan's inhaler doing in your shed? Or Eugene's glasses?"
