𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲: 𝗪.𝗔. ✔️

Be my compass (and I'll be yours.)

Wednesday Addams did not fear anything.

Fear leads to weakness, and she wasn't weak. She was anything but weak.

She brought her cup to her mouth, sipping her warm coffee as she looked out the window. The pleasant bitter taste of the liquid stung her tongue— and she winced when a sudden headache struck her, memories flashing in her head, again.

And here, she thought she had almost forgotten about it.

She would be lying if she said that the past events didn't affect her. How could it not? Her first kiss was a serial killer— and she thought she had everything under control, only to find out she was being played like pawns on a chessboard.

It was over, she knew that. But sometimes, when she's drinking her quad, sitting by that same booth, when just the right lighting illuminates the café of Jericho, waves of déjà vu wash over her, pulling her into the night of the chaos once again.

And so she gets sucked into a spiral, leaving her senseless, unable to navigate herself in the dark, lifeless chasm.

That is— until you show up.

"Wednesday!" You called out, your voice wavering in panic. Her head snapped towards your voice, only to find you buried in the white smoke from the broken coffee machine— your eyes traveling from the instructions to the machine frantically.

Wednesday immediately stood up, before rushing to your alarmed figure. You smiled sheepishly when she came to your rescue, taking the instructions from your hands. Your fingers brushed from the act.

Remember what happened the last time you helped a certain barista?, a voice spoke in her mind, doesn't this scene feel a little too familiar?

Her jaw tightened as she tried her best to ignore it— distracting herself with the broken machine.

"Thanks babe!" You beamed, leaning in for a quick peck on her cheeks. "I would've been fired by now if you weren't here to help me all the time."

Of course she's always here, you work in this café.

"Don't get used to it." She said, wiping her hands on her dark uniform once she was done. Your eyes glistened as you touched the machine carefully, letting out a relieved sigh when it didn't burst for another round of vaper.

"Still amazed how you're good with everything." You gushed, "My amazing girlfriend can fix stuff with Italian instructions!"

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but you saw the way her face softened up. Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight.

"When does your shift end?" She asked, crossing her arms against her chest. Both of you knew that she's already aware of the answer, but she asked anyway.

"Around twelve— in about ten minutes, actually." You grinned mischievously, leaning in so that only a few inches were left between the two— but Wednesday didn't step back. She never does.

"Why? Did you plan something? Perhaps a.. date for our anniversary that Enid suggested?" You challenged smugly, watching in satisfaction as your girlfriend's eyes slightly widened at your remark.

"It is not a date." She bit back, a little too fast for her own good. She closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself, before glaring at you once again. "It's just.. a walk around the town."

"Hm, whatever you say, girlfriend." You giggled, "I can't wait to go on this walk."

"Shut up if you want to leave this place with your limbs still intact." She growled, pushing you back with her index finger pressed onto your forehead.

You whined as you rubbed the red spot that she made. Wednesday's corner of her mouth quirked up from the sight.

"Rude. I guess you don't want to get the gift I've oh- so hardly worked for." You huffed, turning away as you side-eyed the girl, and Wednesday knew immediately that you were playing with her. Her lips morphed into a scowl, biting her tongue so that no words could escape from her mouth.

"I really wanted to give you this cake," you sighed, "but I guess you didn't want it after all— what a shame."

You eyed the girl as she averted her eyes, complementing her long eyelashes. You could see how her inner conflicts worked in her mind— and you had to hold back your will to pinch her cheeks.

"Fine", Wednesday gritted out, "I.. apologize."

You broke into a huge grin, lighting up as you threw yourself to her, wrapping your arms around her. She took a tiny step back, but didn't pull away. You still clinged to her like a koala, attacking her with tiny kisses.

"Aw! You apologized!" You cooed, earning an eye roll in response. "I'm going to tell everyone about this."

"Don't you dare." She growled, "Now. Show me the cake."

You giggled, pulling away. You paced to the counter, pulling out a box from your bag.

"Open it." You offered the box to her, who took a moment to observe it, before discarding the tapes.

"It's ninety-eight percent chocolate ganache!" Wednesday winced as another pang of headache struck her. It just had to be the same cake— she couldn't believe her own luck sometimes.

"I knew that you didn't like sweet things, and I made it black! Your color." You beamed, too excited to notice her small frown. "Do you like it?"

Your expectant gaze made it hard to tell you no, and it wasn't a lie to say that she appreciated your gift. So she just nodded, making you cheer as you threw your arms in the air.

"I'm glad! It was surprisingly hard to make." You said, giving your lover a proud smile. "We should eat it on our date after this."

"I told you it isn't a date." Wednesday stated. You laughed, shaking your head.

"Right. I totally forgot." You giggled, "I shou—" your words got cut off by the ringing of a bell, and you whipped your head towards the noise, only to find a customer who looked kinda angry. Right. You were supposed to be working.

You gulped, laughing nervously, sending your lover an apologetic smile before leaving Wednesday to herself. The girl frowned, her eyebrows drawn into a thin line. She felt a mild feeling of disappointment as she watched your still-working figure.

But those feelings perished as fast as it came, the discontent soon patched with the sight of your smiles. The thought of her emotions wrapped tight around your fingers made her nauseous, made her feel like throwing up. You had no right to sway her feelings like this.

But she knew there was no point in denying— you were her golden linings, her streak of light in the dark, endless abyss. You were her compass, and for that, she could be yours.

Yes, she will gladly be yours.

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