Facing
For days after, Enid replayed the scene in her mind, groaning every time she thought about her mistake. She couldn’t shake the look on Wednesday’s face—the shock and embarrassment that had clouded her usually composed demeanor. Had she been too bold? Too forward? Enid had thought there was something between them, something real. But perhaps she had misread Wednesday completely, and her attempt to take things to the next level had ruined everything.
Sharing a single dorm room only made the situation worse. Their beds, positioned on opposite sides of the room, now felt like barriers separating them. Enid avoided being in the room whenever she could, filling her time with friends and activities to distract herself from the crushing embarrassment. Wednesday, meanwhile, spent long hours in the library, returning to the dorm late at night when Enid was already in bed and leaving early in the morning before she was awake. The space between them was both physical and emotional, and the silence weighed heavier than any words could have.
Enid avoided Wednesday, not just out of awkwardness, but because she couldn’t shake the conviction that the girl’s reaction had been a rejection. Every time she thought about that day, a wave of embarrassment washed over her. She couldn’t bear the idea of facing Wednesday, afraid of seeing pity or discomfort in her eyes. Instead, she threw herself into distractions—spending time with friends, piling up commitments—anything to drown out the ache of misunderstanding that lingered in her chest.
Wednesday, meanwhile, found herself retreating into the library, seeking the quiet solitude it offered. It wasn’t anger or frustration that kept her away from Enid, but something far more complex. She replayed the moment in her mind, remembering the girl’s nervous expression and the way her words had stumbled out with such hopeful intent. The memory lingered, unsettling her in ways she wasn’t used to. Vulnerability wasn’t something Wednesday navigated easily, and when it overwhelmed her that day, her instinct had been to flee.
But as the days passed, and the echo of Enid’s voice played in her mind, Wednesday began to see the situation differently. The nervous glances, the faint blush, the way she had leaned in—it all pointed to something genuine, something Wednesday couldn’t ignore. The realization crept up on her slowly, but when it hit, it was undeniable: Enid’s French hadn’t been bold or forward. It had simply betrayed her intentions with an innocent mistake.
The thought stirred something warm in the girl, something she wasn’t used to feeling. The embarrassment that had initially clouded her reaction began to fade, replaced by a cautious hope. She couldn’t let the misunderstanding linger—not when it was clear that Enid had meant something real, something Wednesday couldn’t bring herself to ignore anymore.
Finally, one evening, after multiple rehearsals in her head for the next conversation, Wednesday decided to confront the situation. With her heart pounding, she returned to their dorm room earlier than usual. Enid was sitting on her bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. She looked up in surprise when her roommate walked in, her expression a mixture of nervousness and uncertainty.
Wednesday hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Enid, can we talk?”
Enid froze, her heart racing. She nodded, setting her phone aside. “Yeah… sure.”
Wednesday moved to the center of the room, standing in front of the giant circular window leading to the balcony. Enid came to face her, the long-forgotten boundary between their respective sides of the room metaphorically reappearing. The silence between them was thick and awkward, neither of them quite knowing how to begin. The wolf fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, stealing glances at Wednesday, who seemed uncharacteristically uncertain.
The goth knew she couldn’t let the tense situation stretch any longer. “About the other day,” she began, her voice calm but firm. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Wednesday, I’m so sorry,” Enid interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to overstep or make you uncomfortable. I thought…” She hesitated, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “I completely misread the situation. I shouldn’t have been so forward.” Her cheeks flushed as she avoided Wednesday’s gaze. “I never wanted to ruin our relationship.”
The dark girl blinked, her dark eyes softening. “Enid, you didn’t ruin anything. And you didn’t misread anything…”
Enid’s cheeks burned even brighter, but she forced herself to look up. “I just… the moment felt right. You were reading, and it was so beautiful, and I thought maybe…” Her voice faltered, her vulnerability clear. “I thought saying it in French would make it special.”
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Make what special?” she asked, her tone measured but curious. “What exactly were you trying to say?”
Enid hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was asking if… if you wanted a kiss.”
Wednesday exhaled softly, her expression shifting to one of quiet amusement. “Not quite. ‘Do you want a kiss’ is ‘Veux-tu un baiser.’ Without the article ‘un,’ the word ‘baiser’ becomes a verb. What you actually said was, ‘Do you want to… baiser.’” She hesitated, her cheeks darkening further. “Enid, in French, ‘baiser’ as a verb doesn’t just mean ‘a kiss.’ It’s a very, um, intimate and quite vulgar way of saying… to sleep together.”
Enid’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands, groaning. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just—” She peeked through her fingers, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I wanted to impress you.”
Wednesday couldn’t hold back her smirk, the tension finally breaking. “I figured as much. But you were quite bold for a first date.”
Enid groaned again, her hands still half-covering her face. “I was trying so hard to be romantic. I can’t believe I messed it up that badly.” Suddenly, she froze, her mind catching up with the goth’s words. “Wait. What? You said date?”
Wednesday reached out, her fingers brushing Enid’s as she gently took her hands. “You didn’t mess anything up. If anything, it’s… charming. And if you’re still interested, I’d like to see where this goes.”
Enid’s breath hitched, her chest tightening with a mix of relief and hope. “I’d like that too. And I promise, no more accidental… um, offers like that.”
Wednesday chuckled softly, her gaze steady but warm, grounding Enid in the moment. “Good. But there’s something you should know.”
Enid tilted her head, her heart pounding. “What’s that?”
Wednesday hesitated, her fingers still intertwined with her bright counterpart’s as she stepped closer. Her dark eyes softened, vulnerable in a way Enid had never seen before. “Even if you had meant it, I didn’t run because I was upset. I ran because I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling.” Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. “Because I think about you more than I should. And because I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.”
Enid’s breath caught. “You have?”
Wednesday nodded, a small, vulnerable smile breaking through her usual composure. “I have,” she said, her tone steady but tender. “And for what it’s worth, I thought the moment was perfect too.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of Enid as she tightened her hold on the other girl’s hand. “Then… veux-tu un baiser? The kind I meant the first time. The sweet kind. No grammar mistakes this time.”
Wednesday’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes glinting with something unspoken yet clear. “Yes, Enid. I want a baiser.”
Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of everything they hadn’t been able to say. It was neither rushed nor hesitant, a moment that felt suspended in time. When they finally pulled apart, Wednesday rested her forehead gently against Enid’s, their breaths mingling in the quiet.
“I don’t think you needed French to make it special,” Wednesday murmured, her voice low but certain.
Enid smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that felt like it belonged to a new beginning. “Good. Because I think I ran out of words anyway.”
Wednesday laughed softly, her thumb brushing against Enid’s hand as she leaned in again. “Don’t worry, we won’t need them.”