Shadows of Nevermore

Chapter VIII

Wednesday arrived at the Weathervane, the familiar scent of coffee and pastries mingling with the crisp evening air. She chastised herself inwardly as she stepped through the door, her thoughts a storm of irritation and self-doubt.

Spending more time than usual to plan an outfit? Ridiculous. She had been picking out clothes since she could walk, her wardrobe a monochrome symphony of blacks and dark grays. Tonight, however, she had found herself second-guessing every choice, wondering if she should add a splash of color or change her usual style. Ludicrous.

Thankfully, the cafe wasn't crowded, and Enid hadn't arrived yet. Wednesday took a seat by the window, her eyes scanning the street outside. The soft hum of conversation around her did little to calm her nerves.

Nervous? She scoffed at herself. You just saw her yesterday. This is absurd.

But the fluttering in her stomach wouldn't be silenced. She felt uncharacteristically unsettled, the anticipation of seeing Enid again stirring emotions she had long thought buried. Why does it feel so different now?

She glanced at her reflection in the window, her dark eyes narrowed in self-reproach. Get a grip, Addams. You're behaving like a normie.

Wednesday shifted in her seat, her fingers drumming on the table. She had always prided herself on her composure, her ability to remain detached and unruffled. Yet here she was, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety, her heart pounding in a way that was entirely foreign to her.

This is foolish. It's just Enid. Just a friend. She tried to focus on the mundane details around her—the pattern of the tablecloth, the aroma of the coffee—but her mind kept drifting back to the anticipation of Enid's arrival.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. You're overthinking this. She's just a friend, and you're meeting for coffee. Nothing more.

But even as she repeated the words in her mind, she couldn't shake the feeling that tonight would be different, that something had shifted between them.

The door of the Weathervane opened, and Wednesday's eyes snapped to it, her breath catching involuntarily. But it was just a regular customer, not Enid. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

Patience, she told herself. You're here early. She'll be here soon.

As she waited, the uncharacteristic nerves continued to simmer beneath the surface, a reminder that even Wednesday Addams wasn't entirely immune to the complexities of human emotion. The realization was both unsettling and oddly comforting.

Wednesday's eyes remained fixed on the door of the Weathervane, her mind a tumultuous mix of anticipation and irritation. She didn't like feeling this way, so out of control and uncertain. As she waited, the barista, Sam, seemed to be second-guessing himself about coming over to her table. He eventually did, a nervous smile on his face.

"Hey, uh, can I get you anything?" he asked, his tone attempting to be flirty but clearly tinged with fear.

Wednesday's gaze shifted to him, her expression impassive. "No, I'm waiting for someone."

Sam nodded, lingering awkwardly. "Is it a date?"

The question caught Wednesday off guard, and she found herself at a loss for words. A date? Is that what this is? She could feel her cheeks growing warm, a sensation she was wholly unaccustomed to. Her silence stretched into an awkward pause, her mind racing for a suitable response.