Intertwined, Sewn Together

2

Wednesday pulled her suitcase into the dorm room, her eyes drawing to the naturally prominent side of Enid's space, decked with warm lights, stuffed animals, and other random unorganized decor. Wednesday's eyes moved back to her own section, the radiance of Enid's threatening a migraine.

Wednesday unclipped the buckle on her suitcase, the luggage opening with a 'swoosh'. Enid glanced over at the uncomfortably yet expectedly silent girl, cringing slightly.

"Please don't tell me you plan on setting up another 'murder-board'. It's the first day back and I'd rather not have to move out already," Enid said, balling up the hem of her sweater with a sense of uneasiness. Wednesday paused from unpacking to look over at Enid with an unimpressed expression.

"Please, Enid, you overestimate me. I have no content to even consider constructing such a thing right now. Even if I did, it, regrettably, fails to entertain me or occupy my morbid curiosity at this stage," Wednesday replies, her tone flat yet ever so slightly reassuring.

"You mean it takes more than gore-y murder pics to entertain you!? What happened to just...Watching some soap operas and eating your weight in food!?" Enid restates, her eyes wide. Wednesday scoffs.

"I'm starting to believe you gathered nothing in our time together," Wednesday says, continuing to unpack.

"-On that note, it concerns me that you'd even think to suggest such ridiculous scenarios," Wednesday adds, pulling out her typewriter and placing it on her desk. Enid lets out a sigh, smiling softly.

"You're right, I should be used to your style by now. I'll work on that," Enid says with a nod. This statement almost startles Wednesday. 'I'll work on that'.

"You working on something new?" Enid says, nodding torwards the typewriter. Wednesday hums.

"My brother suggests I expand my territory. Usually I'd find it laughable to entertain Pugsley's ideas, however, I've found that his perspective isn't too far off the grid. Variety is commonly key in terms of writing," Wednesday says, slipping her last outfit into one of her drawers.

"Well, I can't wait to see what you'll conjure up this time," Enid says, half-teasingly. Wednesday's last novel gave Enid temporary nightmares. Enid's head tilts as Wednesday closes her suitcase and sets it up against the wall, noticing no further luggage to be unpacked.

"Where's your cello?" Enid says, her eyebrows furrowing. Wednesday's head turns.

"Oh, right, Thing isn't here to help you with the sheet music," Enid finishes for her, her attention averting. Wednesday gives her an almost offended look.

"What? No. I can manage the sheet music perfectly fine," Wednesday replies, a bit of silence lingering afterwards as Enid allows her to elaborate further. Wednesday sighs.

"I took into account that we both shared a hint of annoyance at our common habits. Ofcourse, I'd never seize all of my possessions, although, I took it upon myself to make an arrangement whereby I give up just one," Wednesday explains, her eyes darting to the floor in what almost seemed to be shame. Enid's eyes lit up.

"You left your cello behind just for me!?" Enid squealed, her hands clasped together against her chest, her chin resting against her knuckles. Wednesday found it mildly infuriating how comfortable Enid was with twisting her words. Or, perhaps, how she could speak what Wednesday could not.

"I merely-" Wednesday began, before Enid quickly shushed her.

"Just let me have this," Enid said, looking as if she was about to combust in pure joy over something so minimal to the other girl.