Young and in Love - Wenclair

Waterfalls & Strawberries

"So, I found this waterfall..."

Wednesday groans, letting her face fall into the barely touched page of her sketchbook. Xavier had given it to her as a birthday gift, which she had been heavily tempted to use as kindling for the Trojan horse stuffed with her enemies, but had found herself enthralled with the idea of making the graphic images in her head permanent instead of having them be fleeting thoughts.

Except, despite the surplus of murderous thoughts she currently had at being disturbed- she could not get a grasp on them for long enough to even pick up her pencil.

Sighs. "Must we always explore the whimsical world of yours? How come we never bury each other alive like I suggest?"

Enid isn't disturbed in the slightest- swinging herself side to side excitedly while tugging at her fingers. Perhaps Wednesday had given her too many drawings of the werewolf herself flayed open to further damage her psychological development.

Ugh. What a shame.

She looked away from the puppy-dog eyes and back to the few lines of charcoal on the page, mindlessly fingering the rest of the image that is begging to be drawn with the pad of her finger.

As much as she (begrudgingly) loved spontaneous adventures with the blonde across from her; it was becoming tiresome. Her thoughts were starting to shift, and as a result, her artwork.

Her cello arrangements were becoming much less dispiriting, even venturing her fingers into a major octave for a change. Her murder novel was at a standstill as poetry flooded the blank pages that made her want to saw her fingers off, and her drawings were becoming far less graphic. Enid's organs actually managed to stay in her body on the pages, now, much to Wednesday's internal stress.

Wednesday lifted her head in time to catch the smile falling from peach-glossed lips, and groans. "What now?"

Enid was using her pain as a false pretence to trap Wednesday under a gridlock of pouty lips and doe-eyed gazes. And it was working (she had to even more begrudgingly admit).

"Why aren't you excited?"

"Because, Enid," The raven starts, moving from her stomach to sit, tossing her freshly sharpened pencil to the trench of the creased sketchbook page. "Remember what happened last time you found somewhere for us to go?"

"Okay, it wasn't that bad!"

And as Enid denied it, Wednesday let out a noise that was a cross of frustration and a laugh that was teetering on sociopathic. Flushing in embarrassment, and letting her braids cover her rosey cheeks.

God, even her own nervous system was turning against her.

The last time Enid had staked claim on an undiscovered grove around Nevermore, it had left them trying to outrun a sentry made of rock and lava. They had managed to escape it, but a boulder of vocalnic rock set afire left them fumbling in the nearby babbling brook to unsinge their hair. It had taken Wednesday a good few minutes to snuff out the fire on her favourite leather jacket, while Enid watched- drenched from the lake, laughing until she keeled over back into the shallows.

The fire-guard was probably why the place had been left undiscovered.

"I'd sooner take another blade to the heart by a resurrected pilgrim."

Enid grimaces. Wednesday felt tinge of relief soothe her rapidly swelling heart as memories of sun kissed shoulders and gentle brushes of fingers welled to the surface of her subconscious. Oh, how she wished she could snuff Enid out like a flame.

But the more she tried to snuff Enid out, the quicker she realized she was made of kerosene, lighting Wednesday up in a way she couldn't find entirely uncomfortable. The lick of fire at her heels when the girl followed her everywhere she went like an obedient lap dog, nor the burning sensation beneath her skin.