Wenclair One-Shots

i don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush (Part 2)

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Enid returned to their dorm.

Wednesday lay in her bed with her arms crossed over her chest, unable to sleep. Her stomach had been churning since she had unintentionally sent Enid off crying earlier, and when she heard the door to the dorm creak open softly it made her insides clench painfully. She remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe.

There was a soft sniffle, followed by the shuffling of feet and the quiet click of the door as Enid shut it behind her. Wednesday kept her eyes resolutely closed, feigning sleep as she listened to the sound of her roommate padding softly to her side of the room. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, to try and mend the rift she had created between them, but her mouth refused to listen. She heard Enid's bed creaking as the other girl climbed into it, and when the sound of a poorly concealed hiccup of misery floated to her side, Wednesday felt the acrid taste of guilt scorch her tongue. She swallowed down the bile that followed and squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could, praying for sleep to take her.

The following morning dawned cold and gray, a perfect morning by Wednesday's standards. At least, it would be perfect if she hadn't found her roommate's bed empty, the sheets cold and only the faintest trace of her vanilla perfume lingering.

With a sick feeling in her gut, Wednesday realized the only reason she would find acceptable to wake up to Enid's bed being empty was if she was in Wednesday's own bed instead. The thought made Wednesday want to gag, it strayed far too close to the wretched, ooey gooey sentiments her own parents liked to share. Though she was loathe to admit it, said sentiments didn't sound so wretched when it was her and Enid.

There's no point in thinking like that at all if you don't fix this. She scolded herself mentally, going to her closet to put on clothes. She grabbed her jeans, her favorite hoodie (the one she had hoped Enid would keep), and, after a long moment of internal struggle, the new black snood Enid had made for her over the break. She still thought it looked ridiculous, but she'd be lying if the thought of wearing something Enid had made especially for her didn't make her stomach do somersaults. Maybe if Enid happened to see her wearing it too, it would help her case.

Hopefully.

Slipping the mildly offensive garment over her head, Wednesday made her way down the staircase of Ophelia Hall and into the lounge area, the accursed book that had gotten her into this situation in hand. It was a Saturday, meaning no classes were going on, but the weather kept most students inside. They milled about the lobby of the dorm, chatting and playing board games at the various couches and tables. Wednesday scanned the room, eyes alighting on her target.

"Yoko." Wednesday said, slipping silently up behind the vampire who was tucked away in a corner, reading a book and sipping from a black plastic coffee cup.

"Holy shit," Yoko spluttered, jumping as Wednesday seemingly materialized behind her. She coughed harshly, sending a spray of dark red liquid across her book and the table. She snapped her head around to glare at Wednesday. "You're gonna make someone choke to death like that, Addams."

Wednesday said nothing, just circled around to sit opposite at the table from Yoko. She took a deep breath, grimaced, and put her pride aside. "I need your help."

"I'm guessing this has something to do with why Enid came to my room crying last night?" Yoko asked, raising an eyebrow. Wednesday pulled a face, and Yoko grinned. "Yeah, figures. I've known Enid for a while, and I've never seen her more emotional over someone than you."

The statement made Wednesday's stomach twist uncomfortably. She made Enid emotional? In a good way or a bad way? As of last night, a bad way for sure, but in general which was it? Did Wednesday even know what being emotional in a good way meant? She wasn't sure that she did.