In which two complete opposite personalities are drawn together. To Wednesdays surprise, she would have never thought about falling for a boy that had almost nothing in common with her. Lucas Thorpe would have never guessed that Wednesday Addams wou...
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"WEDNESDAY! WEDNESDAY! WAIT UP!" I shouted, jogging after the raven-haired girl. She didn't stop, not even for a second. Her determined stride sent a chill down my spine. The look on her face—it wasn't just determination—it was something sharper, darker, like she was walking straight into battle, unafraid of bloodshed.
We'd been moving for a while now, weaving through the dim-lit streets. I caught sight of flashing lights ahead. Her father was being escorted into a squad car, his expression unreadable, but the weight of it all pressed heavily on Wednesday's shoulders.
"What do you want, Lucas?" she growled, her voice like cold steel. She didn't even glance back, her feet never faltering.
"I want to help!" I blurted, desperation breaking through. To my surprise, she stopped abruptly. It was like hitting a wall, her presence forcing the air out of my lungs.
She turned, her dark eyes locking onto mine, assessing, piercing. "Help me? How could you possibly help me?"
"I know what it feels like" I said, my voice softening. "To lose a father—or to wish you hadn't. My dad wasn't... great after my mom passed. I wouldn't wish that kind of emptiness on anyone. Not even you."
Her eyes narrowed, searching my face for cracks, for lies. "Do you really think you could help me?" she asked, her tone quieter but still lined with skepticism.
"Yeah" I stated, swallowing hard. "No ulterior motives. No traps. Just... looking out for a—" I hesitated as her brow arched sharply, daring me to finish the sentence. "A friend" I finally say, the word tasting heavier than it should have.
For a moment, we stood frozen, our eyes locked. Her dark brown irises seemed to pull me in, holding me captive in their intensity. Her stoic mask faltered, just slightly, but enough to make me think there was something more behind it. Then, just as quickly as it happened, she tore her gaze away, her attention snapping to the sheriff's car disappearing down the street.
"Alright" she said curtly. "Wait for me outside. Once I'm done talking to my father, I'll tell you what we're going to do."
"Where do I—" I started, but before I could finish, she was already striding toward the building where they held her father. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me in the quiet aftermath of her storm.
I sighed, finding a bench nearby. Dropping onto it, I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to make sense of what just happened. Normally, I'd have some sarcastic comeback ready to fire at her, but today? Nothing. Instead, all I wanted was to help her. To be there for her.
