Wenclair One-Shots

(wo)man's best friend

Summary:

"We don't have to talk about it, of course," Enid quickly says when Wednesday remains quiet. "Just... I want you to know that I noticed."
"I do care about you," Wednesday whispers after a very long pause. She slowly looks up. The red on Enid's nose has spread towards her cheeks and her smile is so loving it hurts to look at. She wonders if it's still the cold or something else entirely.
"I care about you, too."

or: because Enid doesn't feel comfortable in the lycan cages, Wednesday surprises her with a camping trip for the next full moon that may or may not result in some accidental romance.

EnidStoleMyWig's Comments -
Hallo my loves. I hope you're all okay! Enjoy this one. :)
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Wednesday is not quite sure how she got to this point. Had someone told her last summer that she'd even consider doing this, she'd slit their throat for the audacity alone.

"Wednesday," Xavier says, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

She stands by the archery range, staring off into the distance, her posture stiff and hands clutching the leather straps of her black backpack. She hates that she must ask him for a favour.

"Xavier," her voice is carefully calm when she finally turns to him. "I need a bow and a filled quiver."

"I thought you didn't want to join the archery club."

"I don't."

"Why do you need a bow then?"

"I left my crossbow at home," she deadpans. "If Nevermore didn't have this no weapon policy I wouldn't have to ridicule myself by asking for something as simple as a bow."

It was highly unfair, in her opinion. The werewolves had their claws, the vampires their fangs, the gorgons their snakes, and the sirens their voices. People like Wednesday, the human outcasts, had nothing to defend themselves. She had her visions, but what did they do her when she was slammed against a tree by the Hyde?

She managed to smuggle some knives inside the premises of course, but a crossbow would definitely raise some suspicion.

Xavier blinks at her for a couple of seconds while she continues her staring. It seems he expects more elaboration, but Wednesday told him all the reason he needs.

"Come then. Just don't mention my name if you get caught," he eventually sighs and motions for her to follow him into the armoury. "Again."

.oOo.

It started about a month ago after she returned to Nevermore. It was completely voluntarily as well, much to the shock of her parents followed by a certain air of smugness. She had found some joy within the Academy in the end. Her weeks of prolonged winter break felt dull in comparison to the thrill she felt upon being both hunter and hunted in the deadly game of Hyde and Seer. Also, she found that she kind of missed being annoyed on a daily basis by some of the people she has met here. Not that she'd ever admit to that fact even under torture.

One of these people is the reason she is so highly confused by her own actions. She blames that thrice damned hug. All bloody and half dead and so fucking desperate. It was equally wonderful and painful. And even more wonderful for how painful it was. She enjoyed it and she hates that she enjoyed it. Hugs were not a thing she would ever enjoy, yet she didn't want to let go.

They've been dragged to the hospital afterwards. Enid was getting stitches to the three slashes that stretched across her face, even though she repeatedly insisted that her superior werewolf genes would help the wounds heal just fine. Wednesday herself hadn't needed any stitches at all. Thanks to Goody even the small hole in her shoulder where the arrow had hit her had scarred over as soon as she pulled it out. But then the nurse noted how pale she was.