Wednesday's Dictionary of Emotions [Wednesday x Reader]

AGNOSTHESIA

Summary: After the talk, things were going well, or so Wednesday assumed. You've been distancing yourself and Wednesday is forced to sift through her past behaviors to see why and comes to a realization that makes her violently ill.

Warnings: Angst. Jealous!Wednesday. Enid, has to spell it out. Thing, wants more dew drops. Xavier, rip.

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Agnosthesia: Noun. The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

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You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Not quite, Henry. Try crushing the seed instead of chopping it; you'll get more juice out of it that way."

You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Yes, use the flat side of your knife, just like that—careful."

You've been distancing yourself from Wednesday.

"Well done, Henry!"

Wednesday slams her textbook down on the desk.

"Ow!" Xavier yelps, the tips of his fingers caught under the textbook. He yanks them out. "Jesus fucking Christ, Wednesday, my fingers!"

"Quit blubbering," Wednesday unapologetically tells him. "They are still attached to your body, are they not?"

"For now," Xavier grumbles, rubbing his bruised fingers. "What the hell is your problem, anyway?"

"I don't have a problem," Wednesday's eyes briefly look at him before looking back at her own flask. "Why would you think that?"

This was her third time re-making the elixir.

The textbook had said to cut the seed to extract the juice inside, but after Xavier nearly lopped off his finger the first time, Wednesday took over the second time. The only issue was that despite her flawless knife work, they could hardly squeeze any of the juice out from the seed's hard shell.

Xavier was plucking at her last nerves with his suggestion to try again—as if the seed would suddenly get softer.

Wednesday clenches her jaw. She should've declined to be Xavier's partner. Even Bianca would suffice better because at least she would feel no inclination about holding back on murdering Bianca when they finally got fed up with each other.

But this was only an issue because—

"Because tooth fairy has refused to be your lab partner, like, what, 3 times now?" Xavier whispers.

Wednesday doesn't say anything, but her expression gets more contemptuous, her mouth pinched, and Xavier doesn't say anything more. She doesn't even comment on Xavier's horrible epithet that he's been sticking to despite your immediate veto. His only reasoning was that you had a nice smile, which Wednesday was inclined to agree with reluctantly.

But it was true. It was a rather new development when you began growing closer to Wednesday, especially after they resolved the tension regarding Wednesday not asking questions. It was going well, or so Wednesday had thought.

Now, you jumped at making sure someone else was your partner before the teacher would even finish telling everyone to partner up.

Looking up, Wednesday stares at the back of your head, willing to burn a hole through it so you'd look at her.