It was amazing.

350 9 0
                                    

Credits to: Kikila

A cool Tuesday night descends on Nevermore and Wednesday had just entered her room. She was returning from the school library with a black, A4 formatted book. A collection of the darkest cello compositions by one of Nevermore's students who had long passed. She sets the book on her desk and pulls her chair out, positioning the music stand at a reasonable distance, then grabbing her dark cello and sitting down. Wednesday then sets up the book on the stand and opens it on the first piece, sighing softly.
'Maestus', the Latin title of the composition she was about to play, roughly translated into "Gloomy" or "Sad". Wednesday knew that, and also knew that it was written after the composers brother had passed. She grabs her bow as Thing taps its way onto the stand to help with the page-turning.
The waxed hair of the bow collides with the cello's strings, producing a low, melancholic note. Despite Wednesday's emotional blindspot, her playing was moving and rich with emotion, conveying the sorrow of the piece perfectly. The bow glides across the strings, producing a convoluted chord progression, one that despite its complexity remained relaxing to listen to.
The door to the room opens slowly and quietly as Enid enters, not disturbing Wednesday. The dark girl usually played her instrument outside, but the cold had grown to be too harsh on the fingers, so Addams played in their room. Sinclair closes the door and quietly walks to her bed, taking her shoes off and putting on her bunny slippers, the white and fluffy ones, not to be mistaken with the pink ones. Or the light blue ones.
Wednesday's playing shifts from a slow melody to an intense cadence that resolves shortly after, leading the piece to a quiet close.

"That was pretty," Enid comments quietly, hoping to bring some reassurance to Wednesday, even though she didn't really need any.
"Thank you."
"Who wrote that?"
"Sabik Fauss wrote that when his brother drowned," Addams responds, turning her head to look at Enid.
"Err... Right," Enid nods, "He was a Nevermore student, right?"
"Correct," Wednesday nods.
A moment of silence passes, long enough to allow Wednesday to return to her playing. Thing turns the page to the next piece and Wednesday's bow makes contact with the strings once again. This time, a more rhythmic melody escapes the cello, capturing Enid's attention. The wolf girl leans in and rests her head on her hands with her elbows rested on her knees. The elegance with which Addams performed almost enchants her sometimes, luring her into a sense of security.
The playing continues for a minute before Wednesday's bow loses contact with the strings.
"Where were you?" Wednesday then asks, bringing Enid back into reality.
"What?"
"Before you came here, where were you?"
"Oh, I went down to Jericho and looked around for some crochet materials, but they were out of black."
Wednesday raises an eyebrow.
"Why did you go looking for black?"
"In case I ever wanted to make something new for you," Enid responds truthfully.
Addams blinks at the sincere display of kindness, staring at Sinclair for a moment before looking back to the sheet music. She gave no actual response, but Enid somehow knew that the cellist appreciated that.
"Have you ever written anything?" Enid then asks.
Wednesday furrows her eyebrows and looks back to the wolf girl.
"I'm halfway done with my novel, you know this," she says, confused.
"No, I mean like, composed," Enid rephrases with an awkward hand gesture.
"Oh."
Wednesday looks at the tip of her bow.
"No, I haven't," she then responds.
"Oh, well, I think you could, like," Enid starts, standing up and dragging her chair next to her roommate, "Easily compose some really cool stuff."
"It's not that simple," Wednesday notes in response.
"Try!"
The dark girl blinks.
"What, now?"
"Yeah! I'll be your muse," Enid then says provocatively.
"I could never convey how I feel about your fashion sense."
Enid goes quiet for a moment, not knowing if that was meant as a compliment or an insult. In the end, she decides not to get hung up on the statement and sighs lightly.
"Take something else, then," she insists.
"Like what?"
"Try conveying what you think of me," Enid urges.
"But what if you don't like what I play?"
A rare moment where Wednesday considers another person's feelings before doing something arises.
"I'm sure I'll love whatever you put together," Sinclair reassures.
Wednesday shrugs, placing her bow on the strings for a moment before moving it. She plays a morbid sequence of bass notes in a long, drawn out fashion with harmony instead of the melody. Addams keeps playing in a minor key for a while, just playing whatever, not really focusing on Enid's request. Once she remembers the wolf girls idea, however, thoughts start flowing through her brain. The warmth of her presence becomes more apparent as the memory of them stargazing comes to Wednesday, turning this moment into a special one as a soft smile forms on her face. Her playing takes a major turn in the middle, in Wednesday's mind signifying the pleasant splash of colour that Enid represents to her. True, Addams didn't like colour, so to show how Enid differs and separates herself from Wednesday's distaste for anything lively, she switches back to a minor key right at the end, ending on a long, pleasant minor triad.

Loud silence fills the room as Wednesday awaits commentary.
After Enid gives none on her own, Addams turns her head to look at her.
"What do you think?" she asks.
"You just made that up?"
"Yeah, I just sort of thought of you and played," Wednesday nods.
"It was amazing. Do you really think that about me?"
"I didn't really say anything, it's up for interpretation."
"I think it said a lot," Enid replies, smiling.
The wolf girl leans and rests her head on Wednesday's shoulder and closes her eyes.
"Play it again," she says softly.
Wednesday sighs and starts playing the melody again, leaning her head onto Enid's.

Wenclair OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now