Chapter Text
Saturday mornings at Nevermore were usually lazy. The quad filled slowly with students who slept in, spilling out in clumps of chatter and weekend gossip. But today was different.
Today was Rave’N Day.
The air itself seemed to buzz with anticipation. Everywhere Enid looked there were students huddled together, whispering about outfits, debating song requests, or scrambling for last-minute dates. The hum of excitement was almost tangible.
And then there were them.
Wednesday and Enid.
The two of them stepped into the quad side by side, both dressed in casual clothes rather than uniforms, Enid in her bright striped sweater and denim skirt, Wednesday in her customary black dress layered with a sharp jacket. They didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to.
Their glow said everything.
It wasn’t obvious, not unless you knew them. But their friends did.
The little glances that lingered longer than they should. The way Enid’s shoulder brushed against Wednesday’s arm every so often, like she couldn’t help gravitating closer. The faintest curl at the edge of Wednesday’s lips, not quite a smile, but something softer, warmer and unsettlingly human.
They might as well have carried a neon sign.
The Nightshades noticed instantly.
Yoko lowered her sunglasses just enough to smirk. Divina nudged Bianca, who rolled her eyes skyward as though asking the universe to grant her patience. Ajax opened his mouth, closed it and then whispered something to Xavier who looked like he’d bitten into a lemon.
Enid felt her cheeks warming. “What?” she blurted, her voice an octave too high.
No one answered right away. It was worse than if they had.
Then, out of nowhere, a shimmer of air rippled in the corner of the quad. And with a crackle of invisibility snapping, Agnes materialized mid-gesture, her index and middle fingers wagging obscenely back and forth in the universal sign of two girls very much NOT being innocent.
Enid nearly choked on her own spit.
Her eyes bulged. “AGNES!”
Agnes grinned mischievously, her face lit up with the smug satisfaction of a cat that had caught a canary. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then flickered invisible again before Enid could lunge at her.
The realization hit like a punch in the gut.
Agnes had been watching.
Not just now, last night.
Enid’s stomach dropped, her face going scarlet as her mind replayed every heated kiss, every tangled sheet, every—
Oh. My. God.
Her fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. She wanted to howl in mortification. She wanted to grab Agnes by the collar of her invisible hoodie and shake her until her teeth rattled. She wanted...
She froze.
Because beside her, Wednesday had not reacted.
Not in the way Enid expected, at least.
Her expression remained perfectly blank, her posture calm and straight. But Enid knew her too well now, knew that the slight tightening of her jaw, the narrowing of her dark eyes, meant she was seething.
Wednesday did not tolerate intrusions. Least of all on what was hers.
The thought sent a shiver down Enid’s spine, equal parts dread and thrill. She tugged at her sleeve nervously, forcing a smile as if to dispel the awkwardness. “Sooo… everyone’s, uh… excited for Rave’N, huh?”
Yoko smirked wider. “Oh, we’re excited, alright.”
Bianca groaned. “Please. Spare us the puppy love.”
Ajax blinked between them. “Wait—what—are you guys like…?” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely, then frowned. “Huh. No wonder I couldn’t find Enid last night.”
Enid made a strangled noise. “Ajax!”
Xavier, standing slightly apart crossed his arms. His voice was sharp with poorly disguised bitterness. “Figures. You never had time for anyone else, Wednesday. Always her.”
Wednesday didn’t even look at him. “Congratulations, Xavier. You’ve finally made an observation without my assistance.”
The group snorted collectively, except Xavier, who muttered something about “tragic patterns” and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Enid wanted to sink into the ground. Between Agnes’ invisible commentary, her friends’ knowing looks, and the knot of dread gnawing at her stomach, she felt like her carefully balanced glow was cracking.
Because no matter how much she wanted to bask in the afterglow of last night, there was still that shadow lurking in the corners of her mind.
Silas.
Her so-called “date.” Her mother’s chosen future.
The thought of him, of his hand extended last night, of his plans for dinner, of her mother’s voice telling her what she “owed” to the pack... it made her chest tighten.
But then she glanced sideways.
At Wednesday.
At the pale curve of her cheek, the sharp gleam in her dark eyes, the subtle power in her posture. At the way she walked beside her with quiet certainty, as though the world could crumble but she would remain unshaken.
And Enid knew.
She didn’t want Silas. She didn’t want the plan. She didn’t want the Hudson name or the Sinclair legacy or any of the suffocating traditions.
She wanted her.
She wanted to dress up tonight not to impress some faceless wolf her mother had paraded in front of her, but to stand beside Wednesday, to be the one who coaxed a blush to that porcelain face, to be the reason behind the fire in those dark eyes.
Even if it was forbidden. Even if it was dangerous.
Especially because it was dangerous.
Enid inhaled, exhaled and straightened her spine. The glow battled the dread, and for once the glow felt stronger.
She looked at Wednesday again, and despite everything she smiled.
Because tonight, no matter what her mother thought, no matter what Silas expected, she knew who she wanted to dance with.
---
The halls of Ophelia were a storm of movement. Fabric rustled, hair dryers whirred, perfume clung to the air like smoke. Everyone was preparing for Rave’N, the rare night when Nevermore shed its dreary shadows and embraced decadence.
And for once, Enid wasn’t buzzing around Wednesday like a sugar-high hummingbird.
Because she had a plan.
“Yoko, please tell me you’ll let me use your room to get ready,” Enid begged, clutching a garment bag to her chest like a shield.
Yoko lounged on her bed, one fang peeking as she smirked. “What, your room not good enough?”
“It’s not about good enough,” Enid said quickly, cheeks warm. “It’s about… surprise. Okay? I want her to see me. Not watch me zip up and—” She cut herself off, realizing how much she’d revealed.
Yoko’s smirk deepened. “Her, huh?”
Enid winced. “Shut up.”
But Yoko, mercifully, or maybe strategically, didn’t push. She gestured grandly. “Fine. My lair is yours. Try not to shed glitter on everything.”
Enid darted in, spreading her bag on the bed, heart hammering.
She’d spent days pretending to gush about every dress color under the sun. Pink, gold, teal, she’d named them all in front of Wednesday, hoping to keep her guessing. But the truth was, she’d known the moment she saw it.
The burgundy dress.
It was modest and scandalous all at once. It is long-sleeved, with a fitted bodice that hinted at her curves, the fabric dipping into a daring slit at her thigh. The color was deep, rich and like spilled wine or dried roses. It wasn’t pink, or pastel, or rainbow. It was bold.
It was Wednesday’s color.
Enid unzipped the bag and let the fabric spill out. Just looking at it made her chest squeeze.
Tonight, she thought. Tonight she’d stand beside Wednesday, not as her noisy, colorful roommate but as something else. Someone who could match her. Someone who could claim her, in her own way.
Her hands trembled as she began to change.
Meanwhile, in their shared dorm, Wednesday sat at her desk, a fountain pen poised above paper she wasn’t actually writing on.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
On Enid.
On the way she’d smiled that morning despite the looming shadow of Silas. On the glow she carried now, brighter than even her most obnoxious sweaters. On the burgundy fabric Wednesday had glimpsed hanging in the back of their wardrobe earlier in the week, hidden but not hidden enough.
She knew.
Enid thought she was clever, disguising her choice behind pastel chatter. But Wednesday was not fooled. She’d seen the way Enid’s fingers lingered over that particular garment.
And Wednesday approved.
Not that she’d say it aloud.
Instead, she tapped her desk sharply. “Thing.”
The disembodied hand scuttled forward, eager.
“Retrieve it,” Wednesday commanded.
Thing gestured questioningly.
“My suit. The black one. Tailored with sharp lines. You know the one.” Her voice was crisp, but her chest thrummed.
If Enid was going to stand beside her dressed like temptation incarnate, then Wednesday would not insult her by looking anything less than severe perfection.
A black suit, cut to her frame, crisp and merciless. A weapon in itself.
Thing gave a jaunty salute and disappeared.
---
Back in Yoko’s room, chaos reigned. Bianca leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, her sharp gaze cutting through every layer of fabric Enid tried on. “You’re fidgeting.”
“I am not fidgeting.”
“You’re fidgeting like someone about to see her crush.”
Enid flushed. “I—It’s not—”
“Please,” Bianca cut in smoothly. “The way you’ve been orbiting Wednesday Addams? We’d have to be blind not to notice.”
Divina snorted from where she perched on Yoko’s windowsill. “Blind and deaf. The whole school’s noticed.”
Enid groaned, pressing her palms to her face. “Oh my god.”
“Don’t ‘oh my god’ us,” Yoko chimed in, twirling a makeup brush. “Spill. What’s going on with you and Death Barbie?”
Enid froze.
Her heart thudded. Her tongue burned. She wanted to deny it, laugh it off, to distract them with glitter. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Not after last night.
She lowered her hands slowly, meeting their expectant stares.
And whispered, “We… did "it".”
The room erupted.
Divina shrieked. Bianca’s eyebrows shot up. Yoko slammed her brush down, her fangs gleaming as she hissed, “I knew it!”
“Shhh!” Enid flailed, panic shooting through her. “Do you want the whole school to hear?!”
Bianca leaned in, eyes sharp. “When?”
Enid bit her lip. “Last night.”
Yoko’s smirk turned wicked. “So that’s why you didn’t crawl into my room complaining about how cold she sleeps.”
Divina clapped her hands. “Finally! Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for this?”
Enid’s cheeks burned so hot she thought she’d combust. “You guys are impossible.”
But inside, her wolf purred. Admitting it out loud to friends who didn’t sneer, who didn’t judge, who didn’t say it was wrong... it felt like a weight lifting.
Like maybe, she wasn’t alone in this forbidden storm.