Because of Her | a wenclair story.

part 10; woe of words.

Late afternoon came and Enid whined, reluctant to go to the club activities she had brought upon herself. "It's too much," she'd say, her lower lip pulled out in a pout and she'd stare at me as though I could make her clubs disappear. 

"Enid," I had tried to reason, "since you yourself overcommitted to these, you need to stay consistent." It was not the first time we had this conversation, this would be my response each time. 

"But I want to stay with you," this was her argument each time, too. But after long minutes of her whining and me trying to reason with her, she'd leave: leaving me to miss the warmth on my side and without arms to melt into, it was either that or, to argue with Thing. 

Today was different, special. "We should really go on an actual date," she had said, her eyes hopeful and warm and I wanted nothing more than to give her everything she asks for. 

Long hours passed since then and I sat and wrecked my brain. I'd never been on a date, I did not know what it was supposed to look like. I knew Enid liked outdoors and hikes and anything to do with art, but where would she enjoy going on a date? 

When the answer didn't come to me, per Thing's suggestion—or rather, demand, I dialed my parents: their love was something I had always adored though I never wanted it for myself—till now. 

They answered quickly but I decided to keep Enid and my relationship a secret, as it had been, even from the world. 

I stuttered and hesitated a lot on my words and even from the shield that was the crystal ball, I could tell my mother had noticed something between the surface. Father carried on, though, if he had caught on as well, he hid it well. "Is that all you wanted to know, my little viper?" He had asked and I nodded stiffly, holding back the cringe I felt about turning to my parents about my love life.

Just as quickly after, I had Thing assist me as I tried to call Enid. "I dropped everything so fast for this," she answered almost immediately, her breath heaved and my heart felt warm. "You never call, is everything okay?" 

"Of course. But I was wondering if you could, uh. . .if you would like to accompany a certain. . ." The words lodged in my throat and the silence that fell upon the call didn't help. 

"Go on, Wednesday," I didn't need to see her to know she was smiling, her tone grinned for her. 

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" The words were quick to be rid of my tongue, a jumbled mess but I was sure Enid would translate it.

Another pause, this time I felt her smile through the phone. "I'd love to." 

Thing and I shared a fist bump of victory. 

The descending sun urged me to work quicker, though, and not long after the call, Thing and I were headed to Jericho to consult a florist. 

We had intruded on the most lavish-appearing one in all of the town and severely critiqued all the bouquets: "not good enough."

"She wouldn't like the color." 

"Doesn't smell as good." 

"This is not very Enid-like."

Finally, we feasted upon a diverse set of flowers wrapped in a bouquet: the colors ranging from a warm orange to a cold light pink, Enid wore a similar colored sweater. "This," I said, "this is the one." 

The sun had set by the time I had returned to Nevermore and got myself prepared, and by the time I reached the gate where I had asked to meet, the moon had begun to peak the horizon: spreading her warm glow on the land below.