Young and in Love - Wenclair

Angel

The coffee in the pot of the dorm is hot. Wednesday is on her second mug, blinking away the blearineas of her creative writing assignment from the night before. Not even the passage of a mediocre nights rest can soothe the drowsiness that comes from staring at, unfortunately, a laptop. It was a necessary evil. An item on her school supplies list her parents were all too excited to buy for her. Even bought a desktop and a couple of phones for the family. She'd refuted the phone, but begrudgingly took the laptop and refurbished it in a black case and lowered the brightness down to 0 so it was practically a non existent thing. But even with night mode. It was too bright.

She blinks the thoughts away, her head twitching to the left at the sound of the door opening. Enid emerges, in a robe and fluffed up wet hair she tends to with a brush, voice flush with amusement. "Are you reading the morning paper?"

Why she'd agreed to attend the same university, she'll never know. Well- it wasn't too much a choice. She'd gotten into Harvard off her acadameic prowess alone and somehow, Enid had slithered her way in as well with an astounding 3.5 GPA and perfect SAT scores. Even forced the administration to put both of them into yet another enclosed space, although Enid swears up and down it's a product of
circumstance.

She'd been stonefaced when Enid had burst into the room with that same girlish smile and elongated, multicoloured nails. But she'd grown into a gorgeous woman. Perhaps, someone of the intellect a 15 year old Wednesday held.

Forcing this information from her would require tortures not known yet to man, but she'd hit back the smile, and every smile at the werewolf since they re-aquatinted themselves as post secondary room mates.  Which had been over half a year.

An unfortunate amount of smiles she'd rather pretend were a symptom of several strokes.

Enid kept her side bathed in colour, as usual. Unfortunately, the entire room was painted a soft brown so the eldest Addams had to throw up tapestries of war and famine to liven the place up.

Enid was still Enid. Singing and bright and lovely, to Wednesday's dismay.

She looked up from the printed paper- one of the many she had to fetch every morning from the graffiti'd box at the end of the block. She nods curtly.

"Yes. It's good for the mind to read properly printed ink now and again."

Enid rolls her eyes, tossing her towel into the hamper and grabbing a pair of sweats.

"You're insane, you know that?"

She doesn't know what o say. Bringing up anything was useless. Sometimes, she'd stay awake to watch her sleep, though they weren't the same girls that had been forced to room in high school. Yet some things stilled in the passage of time, like eyes made of cornflower and a personality weaved by the deities themselves.

But what was there to say? Do you enjoy the weather in Massachusetts? No. That was arbitrary. So she usually said nothing. It was similar to Nevermore, except she did have things to say. But couldn't articulate them. Didn't know how to.

Enid watches her curiously- because Wednesday is staring. Wednesday feels like she's buffering. Her eyes are blurry on the sides as they always got, like a race horse, fo used on its prize.

Blurts out whatever comes next in her myriad of thoughts. "Would you like to get coffee?"

The receiving grin is bright and sunny like the morning paper should have been read under. Used to be many years ago. Enid nods with vigour. "Of course. Let me get dressed and we can go!" Tossing her sweats down and heading for her closet.

The cafe near the university wasn't like the Weathervane. It had dark shelves of books stacked on every wall and everything was bathed in oak and vine. It was a reprieve from the sterile walls of beige and floors of laminate.