Wenclair One-Shots

Black Butterfly

Summary:

And that's how Wednesday Addams succumbs to the hellscape that is human emotion.

Enid's eyes widen in surprise, before she's rushing in to pull Wednesday into a hug. At this point Wednesday's familiar with the process. She wraps her arms around Enid's shoulders, buries her face into Enid's neck. Thinks 'mine.'

She's aware of Ajax's eyes on them from the courtyard. Wednesday doesn't make any move to pull away, but instead meets his bewildered gaze over Enid's shoulder -

And flips him off.

Or, where hugging kind of becomes Wednesday and Enid's thing

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Wednesday Addams does not do hugs.

Hugging is for the weak. For the imbeciles who are too soft and pathetic to survive in this world. For people like her parents.

Survival of the smartest, as Wednesday would say.

No. Feelings. Touching. People. Hugging.

Wednesday doesn't do any of that. She despises it. Loathes it with the intensity of a thousand burning corpses. The very idea makes her skin crawl, and not in the good way.

So then.

Why the hell can't she stop thinking about hugging Enid Sinclair?

"It's purgatory," Wednesday mutters to herself. "Punishment for outliving death. It has to be. Thing, I need you to stab me."

Across the room, Thing taps the bed mockingly, as if enjoying Wednesday's suffering.

"Laugh again and I'll remind you what it was like to be stabbed the first time."

It's the second day back since Nevermore opened its doors again. Seven weeks since the Crackstone incident that nearly destroyed the school.

In that time, Wednesday managed to cross a few things off her list.

Figure out who her stalker is
Cast a curse on Tyler Galpin
Plan ways to kill Tyler Galpin in the most gruesome way imaginable
Smash skulls with a baseball bat
Ignore Xavier's texts
Don't think about Enid
Obviously, the list remains incomplete. She still has no idea who her stalker is, and she likely won't know until something catastrophic happens once again.

She doesn't dare contemplate the last thing on the list. Wednesday had feverishly crossed it out halfway before stopping, a clear indication of her failures.

See, the problem lies in Wednesday's head.

She hadn't been able to stop the dreams from popping up at night. Or the mornings she would wake up, wondering why it was the relief of seeing Enid alive that night - why it was the memory of Enid hugging her that made Wednesday's chest tighten and her stomach do this mysterious swoop like -

Like -

"Butterflies!"

Wednesday's face twists in outrage. "What?"

Enid comes stumbling in through the doorway then, a whirlwind of chaos as she balances a box in her arms. Her face is flushed with excitement, which would normally irritate Wednesday if she wasn't secretly trying to hide her panic.