Beneath the surface || Wenclair

Chapter 4: close quarters

It had been a couple of days since the shocking realization hit Enid like a freight train—Wednesday Addams was her mate. The revelation had consumed her thoughts, making her heart race every time she so much as glanced at her friend. Yet, in the days that followed, a new pattern had emerged. Enid noticed that Wednesday seemed to be paying more attention to her than usual. Small things—prolonged stares, subtle glances—had been enough to send Enid spiraling into panic. Every time their eyes met, it felt like Wednesday could see right through her, straight into the turmoil brewing beneath her sunny exterior.

Now, instead of confronting her feelings or Wednesday, Enid had fallen into a habit of avoiding her altogether. It seemed like the only way to protect herself from the overwhelming fear that her secret would be exposed. Staying away was safer—at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Enid paced back and forth in the empty hallway outside her dorm room, her hands gripping her phone tightly as she debated whether or not to text Yoko for advice. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion, frustration, and heartache. She knew she couldn't keep this up forever, but every time she tried to act normal around Wednesday, she felt like she was on the verge of blurting out the truth. And that? That would be a disaster.

"Just breathe, Enid," she muttered to herself, stopping to lean against the cool stone wall. "You can get through this. Just keep some distance... It's for the best."

But even as she said the words, Enid knew it wasn't sustainable. Avoiding Wednesday only made things worse. The more she pulled away, the more Wednesday seemed to notice, her sharp gaze tracking Enid's every move with a level of intensity that made her skin prickle.

A sudden noise echoed down the hall, and Enid stiffened, her heart skipping a beat. She recognized the sound instantly—the distinct, deliberate click of Wednesday's heels against the floor. Panic surged through her as she scrambled to move, darting into the first open doorway she found. She pressed her back against the doorframe, holding her breath as the sound grew louder, closer.

"Get it together, Enid!" she whispered harshly to herself, clutching her phone to her chest. But no matter how hard she tried, her instincts screamed at her to flee. Wednesday was too close, and the weight of her mate's attention felt like too much to handle.

The footsteps slowed, and Enid dared to peek around the corner. Sure enough, there was Wednesday, her black attire in stark contrast to the light filtering through the hallway windows. She was moving slowly, her head turning slightly as if scanning for something—or someone.

Or maybe someone she's been looking at more than usual, Enid thought with a pang of anxiety.

Wednesday paused, her dark eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at the door Enid had hidden behind. For a moment, Enid's heart stopped. Could she sense her? Could she hear the frantic beating of her heart? But just as quickly as the moment arrived, it passed. Wednesday resumed her walk, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.

Enid let out a shaky breath, her back sliding down the wall until she was crouched on the floor, head in her hands. This was getting out of control. Every time she tried to avoid Wednesday, it felt like she was only drawing more attention to herself. How long could she keep dodging her friend without raising suspicion?

"I can't do this forever," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the empty room. "But how do I face her without blurting everything out?"

The overwhelming fear of rejection hung over her like a storm cloud. What if Wednesday really didn't care? What if she found out and pulled away completely, leaving Enid alone?

Later that evening, Enid hesitated before pushing the door open to their shared dorm. She had timed her return perfectly—or so she thought. Wednesday had been spending more time with Xavier recently, a fact that gnawed at Enid more than she cared to admit. The idea of Wednesday being around him so much, laughing at his jokes, listening to his theories, made Enid's stomach twist with something close to jealousy, though she refused to acknowledge it as such. If she could just avoid these late-night meetings with Wednesday, she could get through the week without losing her composure.

But as she stepped inside, the room wasn't empty. Wednesday sat at her desk, her back straight, black hair cascading down as she meticulously scribbled notes. The sight took Enid by surprise—she had expected to be alone.

"Oh," Enid managed, gripping the strap of her backpack tighter. "I thought you were out with Xavier... again." The last part slipped out before she could stop it, her voice a little sharper than she intended.

Wednesday's hand paused briefly before continuing her work. "I find your assumptions curious, Enid," she said without looking up. "I don't spend every waking moment with him, despite what your... observations might suggest."

Enid swallowed, forcing herself to calm down. She slipped off her backpack and settled on her bed, opening a textbook and pretending to focus. But her mind was a mess, her heart pounding. She tried to block out Wednesday's presence in the room, yet every slight movement, every scratch of her pen against paper, seemed to draw her attention. The tension between them felt thicker than ever.

A few moments passed in silence, with Enid staring blankly at her open book, willing herself not to steal glances at Wednesday.

Then, without warning, Wednesday spoke. "Xavier is hosting a gathering tonight. A party. We'll be attending."

Enid blinked, the words not quite registering at first. "A party?" she echoed, incredulous. "You want to go to a party?"

Wednesday finally looked up from her desk, her dark eyes meeting Enid's. "Yes. You and I will be attending. Together."

Enid's confusion was quickly replaced by suspicion. Wednesday never willingly attended parties—much less suggested they go together. She couldn't help but wonder if something else was behind the invitation. Maybe this was Wednesday's peculiar way of making up for the days of awkward tension between them? Or was she trying to keep Enid close after noticing her distance?

Enid swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. "You hate parties," she said, her voice quieter now. "Why... why do you want to go?"

Wednesday's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. "Let's just say," she began, her tone as cold and indifferent as ever, "it will be an interesting social experiment."

Enid wasn't fooled. She had known Wednesday long enough to know that "interesting social experiment" was code for something more. It was an attempt, albeit a strange one, to spend time with her—maybe to bridge the growing gap between them.

The realization both warmed and terrified her. She wanted to spend time with Wednesday too, but what if her wolf instincts got the better of her? What if she couldn't handle the proximity?

Still, the thought of saying no made her feel worse. So, instead, she took a deep breath, pushing her nerves aside, and nodded. "Alright," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'll go."

For a brief second, Enid thought she saw a flash of relief cross Wednesday's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Wednesday returned to her notes, as though the conversation was nothing more than a formality. But Enid knew better. Something was shifting between them—whether she was ready to face it or not.

As the silence settled once more, Enid closed her book and stared at the ceiling, her mind swirling with emotions. The growing possessiveness she felt toward Wednesday was undeniable, and the thought of spending the evening watching her interact with Xavier stirred an uncomfortable heat in her chest.

She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing. You can do this. She had to, because no matter how complicated her feelings were, the thought of losing Wednesday's presence in her life was far worse than the confusion she felt now.