Wednesday (One Shots and Imagines)

Resfeber [Wednesday x Male Reader]

Wednesday sat at a bench on the third platform of a train station. Her hands were riddled by the chilling air and her ankles by the aggressive breezes as trains passed by. It was cold that night, really cold- Enid had warned her before she left that she should 'Make sure to wear a thick coat and a pair of woolly cloves to make sure you don't get too cold!' Of course, Wednesday didn't listen, she rarely ever did. She sighed as she pulled her hands into the sleeves of her loosely knitted sweater in the attempts to stave off the biting chills.

The cold brick pillars and walls dripped in late night dew while moss grew in abundance, being the only sparks of colour other than dull brown. The only sounds that separated the wind from the silence was that of cawing birds that seemed to have nested in the lean-to roofing above her head and the distant sound of metal wheels on metal tracks as trains get closer to the station.

There was no one around either- If she had never noticed the odd few passengers getting on their trains, she would have assumed that the station had closed all together. Not even the trains seemed to want to be there as the majority of them passed right by the platforms and never stopped. Life seemed to be passing by so fast and yet in a way, it didn't seem to be moving at all.

She had no idea where she was going, she didn't care- she just needed a break. She needed a sense of adventure. Her second year at Nevermore had been far more mundane than the first. No near death experiences, no dates with deranged boys, no unsettling feeling or fear or danger around the corner. None of it was there. So Wednesday had decided to take matters into her own hands. She would disappear for a few days- buy a random train ticket- see where it would take her and just... move on from there for a while. It sounded perfect. A chance to be alone again- if only for a short while.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a boy sit on the opposing side of the bench as her. She sighed- able to see the cloud of condensated mist as she did so. She couldn't understand why someone would sit on the same bench as her when all of the other benches were free.

Wednesday turned her head a little so she could get a side-eye look at the figure. Her brow raised. He had crossed one leg on top of the other and had half of his face buried in a thick scarf. He seemed completely unaware of her presence as he held a book in his hands. He had dark, heavy bags under his eyes- like he hadn't slept in a while. She wondered why. Perhaps he just had school work to do and had spent the last few nights doing it. Maybe he had been kicked out of his home and had been sleeping on the streets- although he didn't look dirty enough for that to have been the case. Or maybe he was experiencing what she was. She could hear the faint rhythmic beats of music that came from the headphones that hung loose around his neck and rested on top of his scarf.

The second his head seemed to lift up, she darted her head away and looked on as another train passed- bringing yet another onslaught of cold air her way. She drew her legs closer as to try and retain her body heat. Her dark eyes gazed up at the hanging electronic board as she read the train times as the changed minuet by minuet. She still had twenty minutes until her train arrived.

That was when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. With a blank expression, she turned to see the boy had tapped her with the corner of his book. She got a good look at the title as she turned to face him that read 'No Longer Human.' She had read it before, a short novella but one she enjoyed. Her bleak expression softened a little at this and she looked at the boy himself. Looking at him properly, she could see that he didn't look all that much older than her- maybe a year or less. She also caught sight a small cut under his eye that appeared to have recently scabbed over.

"Here. Your hands are as pale as snow." He spoke as he reached out with his other hand, offering a pair of black gloves. His voice was soft and warm, like a honey tea. His eyes looked down at her sleeve covered arms before back up to her face. "I can't turn the pages with them on," He told her as he shook the hand holding the book, signalling to it. "You might as well wear them."