Wednesday's Dictionary of Emotions [Wednesday x Reader]

NIGHTHAWK

Nighthawk: Noun. A recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.

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"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks, her voice dull but tinged with a hint of annoyance.

You look at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I know you're trying to write."

Wednesday sighs, letting the ire settle away. After all, this was your room. But Wednesday had taken your words about coming here for some peace and quiet last week seriously and brought her typewriter the next day to your room, and it's been there ever since.

Wednesday actively doesn't think about what it could mean that she'd been moving her stuff over into your room slowly because, at the very least, she still goes back to her own to sleep at night.

She actively doesn't think about anything to do with you during the day.

"Why are you rearranging everything?" Wednesday asks again, her face unimpressed with how you've shuffled your coffee table, the inside of your closet, and how you've been eyeing your bed as if it was next.

You purse your lips as if debating whether or not to tell Wednesday the reason, but when she pinches her eyebrows at you, her gaze becoming more narrow, you relent.

"I thought it'd be nice to have more room..." you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck.

"You've already optimized the space to its full potential," Wednesday raises her brow at you. "You won't be getting anything more unless you start throwing away things and you own nothing like the miserable orphan you are."

You can't help but laugh.

"I was thinking of giving away the coffee table," you admit with a smile. "One of the gorgon girls in the woodworking class said she could make me an extendable coffee table that I could fit into my closet."

"Why have you asked her? It is doubtful her skills would be superior to mine."

"Because you're not taking woodworking and it would have to be an extracurricular activity to do outside of class, and I feel like there's more interesting things you could be working on," you point out, giving up on rearranging and sitting on your bed.

"Like what exactly?" Wednesday flatly asks, her gaze studying your fictitious nonchalant face.

"Do you like horror movies?" You ask instead of answering Wednesday's question, which makes the gothic girl's mouth twitch in annoyance.

"If you're asking if they scare me, then no," Wednesday answers succinctly, with a tilt of her chin. "But I do enjoy watching them if they're done well."

"Me too," you tell her. "I mean, they do kind of scare me but I also kind of enjoy the feeling because then that means the movie was good."

There's a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lip, too quick for you to see.

"Which ones have you seen?" Wednesday asks, curious about what your tastes are. "Which ones terrify you the most?" Her eyes are glinting.

"Not too many," you give her an amused smile. "Remember, I didn't really have access to the internet for entertainment, and I'm not really one for watching it by myself."