SOULMATES Wednesday x F!VampireReader

Chapter 3

Y/n POV
The walk with Ms. Thornhill was uneventful, except for her curious glances, which I pretended not to notice. She seemed... overly friendly, and her cheery disposition grated against every instinct I had. There was something unsettling in how her smile lingered just a bit too long. Still, I played the obedient new student-sweet smiles, polite nods, not even a hint of fangs. It wasn't hard to find the storage area, cluttered with dusty furniture and half-forgotten relics from who knows how long ago. With little more than a gesture, I hefted the bedframe onto my shoulder, making it look far easier than it should have been.
As I walked back through the hallways of Nevermore, I couldn't help but scan the dimly lit corridors and high arched ceilings. This place was dripping with history and secrets-I could practically taste it in the air. I wondered what kind of skeletons were hiding in these closets and whether any of them were literal. The thought amused me enough to crack a smile, which I quickly smothered when I caught sight of the door to our room.
Returning to find Enid attempting to cheerfully hang more decorations-and failing spectacularly in the face of Wednesday's withering glares-was almost worth the trouble. Almost. I stepped into the room, set down the bedframe with a soft thud, and stretched slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh that earned me a sideways glance from both girls. I raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, who, naturally, looked unimpressed.
"You're back," she stated flatly, her attention already returning to the clack of typewriter keys. "I'd begun hoping you'd gotten lost and decided to stay that way."
I grinned, leaning casually against the wall as I met her icy gaze. "Oh, did you miss me already, Wednesday? I'm touched." I let my words drip with playful mockery, watching for her reaction.
She didn't even pause her typing. "I don't miss nuisances. They have a way of making themselves known whether one wishes it or not."
"Well, it's good to know I've made an impression," I replied lightly, crossing my arms. "I do so hate being forgettable."
There it was-a slight pause in her keystrokes. Barely perceptible, but I saw it. Victory. She resumed typing, but I could see the muscles in her jaw tense, and that alone was worth every ounce of effort. Behind me, Enid let out an exaggerated groan.
"Can you two not flirt for five minutes?" Enid asked, half-exasperated and half-amused as she tossed another garish pillow onto her bed.
"Flirting?" I said innocently, a hand coming to my chest. "Enid, I think you've misunderstood me. I was simply trying to have a civil conversation."
"Your idea of civil conversation seems to involve needling people until they bleed," Wednesday remarked coolly, finally glancing my way. "I'm sure you're quite proud of yourself."
"Oh, very," I said, flashing a grin that showed just the hint of fang. "But I only needle people who are interesting. Take that as a compliment."
Her expression didn't change, but there was a spark in her dark eyes. A dangerous, calculating spark. "Compliments from you hold about as much value as a counterfeit coin. Useless and possibly diseased."
I tilted my head, letting my smile widen. "And yet you've pocketed it anyway."
"Enough!" Enid interjected, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm already regretting my decision to be roommates with either of you."
"I thought we were best friends, Enid?" I teased, giving her a mock-wounded look. She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.
As the brief silence fell, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, the clack of the keys resuming with renewed vigor. I moved to finish setting up my space, feeling her presence keenly even as she pretended, I didn't exist. But I knew better. She'd noticed me, whether she liked it or not. And I intended to keep it that way.
I focused on arranging the few belongings I had, keeping one eye on my two roommates. Enid flitted around, determined to keep the atmosphere upbeat despite the thickening tension, while Wednesday remained stoic, her fingers tapping out words with relentless precision. The mechanical clatter of the typewriter filled the room, a fitting soundtrack to our peculiar dynamic.
As I stowed the last of my clothes, I moved to the shared windowsill. Half of it, Wednesday's half, was bare and colorless, just like the rest of her side. I dragged a finger across the divider she'd drawn-black tape down the middle, stark and deliberate. When she'd divided the room, she hadn't left any margin for negotiation. That was fine. I wasn't one to negotiate either.
"Did you choose the décor yourself?" I asked, tone light but teasing. "It really says a lot about you."
The typewriter stopped mid-sentence, and her head turned, her expression a mask of cold detachment. "If by 'a lot' you mean 'nothing,' then you are correct. My surroundings reflect my disregard for frivolity."
I leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed, giving her a slow once-over. "Yes, I see that. Stark, somber, a touch of morbidity... What's next, Wednesday? Iron bars over your window? A 'keep out' sign? Or is this already your version of a welcome mat?"
"Those who need signs to warn them of danger are already too foolish to avoid it," she retorted, her voice like ice. She didn't look away, and I felt the weight of her attention settle on me like a dare.
"Danger? That sounds intriguing." I stepped closer, deliberately closing the space between us. "But I'd rather find out for myself than take your word for it."
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she'd lash out. Instead, she simply pushed her chair back with a quiet scrape and stood. "Are you always this insufferable?" she asked, stepping closer herself. We were nearly face-to-face now, her glare as sharp as a blade.
"Only when I'm provoked," I said, my voice softening, the challenge in it unmistakable. "Or intrigued."
For a heartbeat, I thought she might reach for one of her knives. It wouldn't have surprised me. But then she stepped back, and the flicker of emotion was gone, replaced by a cold, composed exterior. "Intrigue is a fleeting distraction. You'll tire of it soon enough."
"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," I murmured, watching her turn her back to me and return to her typewriter. I had to give it to her; she was disciplined. She'd withdrawn from the confrontation as if it hadn't fazed her, as if the moment hadn't happened. But it had.
Enid broke the silence, plopping down onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. "Why can't we all just get along? Isn't this supposed to be like... the beginning of a beautiful friendship?"
"I don't recall asking for friendship," Wednesday replied without looking up.
"And I don't recall rejecting it," I added with a smirk, earning a scoff from Wednesday.
"See?" Enid grinned, ever the optimist. "Progress! I'm telling you, we're going to be the best trio ever. Just give it time."
"Optimism is a fool's currency," Wednesday stated, resuming her typing. "It's usually spent too freely and leaves the owner penniless."
"Good thing I have plenty to spare," Enid shot back, unfazed. She turned to me. "Y/n, you'll see. She's all doom and gloom now, but she'll warm up eventually."
"Oh, I'm counting on it," I said, letting the implication linger. "Though I have to admit, I like her just the way she is."
Wednesday's fingers paused for a fraction of a second, and my grin widened. There it was again-the tell that she was paying attention, even if she pretended otherwise.
Enid reached for her phone, likely ready to drown out the tension with music or social media, but she paused, her expression curious. "So, Y/n... what brought you to Nevermore?"
"Exile," I said simply, my voice taking on a darker edge. "I'm here because my family thought it would be safer to have me... away."
Enid blinked, unsure whether I was joking. "Safer for who?"
"Exactly." I allowed a flicker of my fangs to show, then shrugged. "But this place isn't so bad. It might even grow on me."
"It's full of disappointments," Wednesday said coolly, not missing a beat. "Don't let the shadows fool you."
"Disappointments keep things interesting," I replied, stepping back toward my side of the room. "And I've always been drawn to interesting things."
I felt her eyes on me even after she turned back to her writing. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, maybe-but undeniably fun.