The dorm room was uncharacteristically quiet, save for the faint rustle of wind brushing against the windowpane. The usual clash of personalities—Wednesday’ sharp and brooding aura against Enid’s vibrant, effervescent energy—had simmered down into something gentler tonight. Both girls had claimed their spots on Enid’s bed, the chaos of their day finally giving way to a peaceful evening.
Enid lay sprawled out on her stomach, flipping idly through her sketchbook, doodling small hearts and flowers in the margins of an unfinished drawing. Wednesday, ever composed, sat upright with her back against the headboard, a leather-bound book perched in her lap. Her dark eyes scanned the pages with laser focus, though every so often, they flickered toward Enid.
“You’re staring,” Enid teased without looking up, her voice laced with a playful warmth.
“I am merely ensuring you do not smear graphite on your face again,” Wednesday replied, her tone flat but betraying the faintest hint of affection.
Enid turned her head to face her, grinning. “Oh, come on. You think I'm pretty”
Wednesday’s expression didn’t change, but her silence was all the confirmation Enid needed.
“Aha! I knew it!” Enid said, abandoning her sketchbook entirely. She wriggled closer to Wednesday, propping her chin on the other girl’s knee. “Admit it. You think I’m adorable.”
“You’re insufferable,” Wednesday corrected, though her fingers had unconsciously moved to gently trace a stray strand of Enid’s hair. “But tolerable in small doses.”
Enid’s grin softened, and she let out a contented sigh. “You’re the worst at compliments, you know that?”
“Flattery serves no purpose. If I thought you were anything less than acceptable, I would not waste my time here.”
Enid laughed, a sound so light and joyful it made the room feel warmer. “Translation: you like spending time with me.”
Wednesday didn’t bother replying, instead closing her book and placing it neatly on the nightstand. She shifted slightly, creating space for Enid to crawl into her lap. The
werewolf didn’t need further invitation; she clambered up and nestled herself against Wednesday’s chest, her head resting just below the other girl’s chin.
“This is nice,” Enid murmured, her voice quieter now. She tucked her arms around Wednesday’s waist, holding her close. “You’re all warm and cuddly, even if you’ll never admit it.”
“I am not a stuffed animal,” Wednesday replied dryly, though her arms instinctively wrapped around Enid in return. Her hands rested on the small of Enid’s back, steady and grounding.
“Maybe not, but you’re my cuddle buddy now,” Enid said, tilting her head up to press a kiss to Wednesday’s jaw. “You’re stuck with me.”
Wednesday sighed, a sound that was less exasperation and more resigned affection. “It seems I have no choice.”
They stayed like that for a while, the minutes stretching into a comfortable silence. Enid traced lazy patterns on Wednesday’s back with her fingertips, while Wednesday rested her chin atop Enid’s head. The usually cold and detached Addams found herself relaxing in ways she hadn’t thought possible. The quiet hum of Enid’s heartbeat beneath her ear was oddly soothing.
“What are you thinking about?” Enid asked softly, breaking the silence.
“How peculiar it is that I find comfort in something so mundane,” Wednesday admitted. “And how I might… not entirely detest it.”
Enid beamed, her smile pressed against Wednesday’s shoulder. “See? You’re a softie deep down.”
“Do not mistake my tolerance for sentimentality,” Wednesday warned, though the faintest upturn of her lips betrayed her. “This is merely an experiment.”
“An experiment, huh?” Enid teased. “And what’s the hypothesis?”
“That your incessant need for physical affection will not drive me to madness.”
Enid giggled. “And the results so far?”
Wednesday paused, pretending to deliberate. “Inconclusive.”
“You’re impossible,” Enid said, though her tone was nothing but fond.
She leaned up to kiss Wednesday’s cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling back to study her girlfriend’s expression. Wednesday’s eyes softened just slightly, her usual intensity tempered by something gentler. It made Enid’s heart swell.
“You know,” Enid said, resting her forehead against Wednesday’s, “I love you. Like, a lot.”
Wednesday didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she reached up to brush a strand of Enid’s hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear with uncharacteristic tenderness.
“You are insufferably sentimental,” she said finally, though her voice was softer than usual. “But I suppose I find it… tolerable.”
Enid’s laugh was quiet this time, more of a happy sigh. She kissed Wednesday again, this time on the lips, slow and sweet. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it felt just as magical as the first time—a perfect blend of warmth and affection that made the rest of the world fade away. When they pulled apart, Enid rested her head on Wednesday’s shoulder, closing her eyes.
“We should do this more often,” she murmured.
“Cuddling is not a scheduled activity,” Wednesday replied, though she tightened her hold on Enid ever so slightly. “But… perhaps it is not entirely objectionable.”
Enid smiled, her heart feeling impossibly full. “I’ll take it.”
As the evening wore on, they remained wrapped up in each other, trading soft kisses and quiet words. Enid eventually dozed off, her breaths slow and even against Wednesday’s neck. Wednesday, for her part, stayed awake a little longer, her mind uncharacteristically quiet.
She allowed herself a small smile as she pressed a kiss to the top of Enid’s head. For all her disdain for sentimentality, she couldn’t deny that these quiet moments with Enid were… nice. More than nice, actually.
But she’d never admit that out loud.
And so they stayed, tangled together in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the world outside forgotten. For now, it was just them—a goth and a werewolf, perfectly mismatched but perfectly content. And in the quiet stillness of the room, love lingered in every touch, every kiss, and every stolen glance.