Beneath the surface || Wenclair

Chapter 11: caught in a corner

Enid sat cross-legged on Yoko and Divina's bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as she absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her shirt. A week and a half had passed since the incident, and every day felt heavier than the last. The weight of Wednesday's cold dismissal after they were intimate hung over her like a cloud that wouldn't dissipate. Enid knew Wednesday was protecting herself, shielding her emotions behind that impenetrable wall. But knowing that didn't stop her heart from aching.

The worst part wasn't even the silence—it was the avoidance. Wednesday had been quieter than usual, if that was even possible. She barely looked at Enid, and when she did, it was brief, as though she was afraid of what might happen if their gazes lingered. Wednesday often disappeared before Enid returned to their dorm at night, and if she was there, she'd be feigning sleep, her back turned toward Enid in a stiff, unwelcoming way.

Enid sighed. She knew Wednesday needed time, but how much time? Days had passed, and Enid felt like she was hanging by a thread. She couldn't stop thinking about her mate. Oh yeah, Wednesday doesn't even know she's my mate. The thought crept in, making Enid's chest tighten with frustration. If Wednesday had any idea, maybe—just maybe—things would be different. Or maybe they wouldn't. Enid wasn't sure anymore.

"Ugh, this sucks," Enid mumbled, rolling over onto her stomach, burying her face into one of Divina's pillows.

"You're telling me," Yoko's voice came from across the room. She sat perched on the windowsill, scrolling through her phone, one eyebrow quirked in irritation as she glanced up at Enid. "We've heard the same 'woe is me' story all week. Time to change the channel."

Enid sat up quickly, glaring at her friend. "Hey! You're the one who asked, I'm just—"

"I know, I know," Yoko interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "You're just processing. But Enid, for real, enough is enough. Wednesday's clearly into you—she wouldn't have slept with you otherwise. You just need to give her a push in the right direction."

Enid frowned. "She's been avoiding me, Yoko. I don't think I'm the right direction she wants to be pushed in right now."

Divina, who had been lounging on the other bed, raised her head. "Or maybe that's exactly why you need to push her. I mean, she's never been good with emotions, right? So, what if this is her way of dealing—or not dealing—with what happened?"

Enid bit her lip. She hated how much sense that made. "But what do I even do? She's shut herself off completely. I don't even know how to reach her anymore."

Yoko leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You need to fight fire with fire."

Enid raised an eyebrow. "What does that even mean?"

Yoko grinned, the expression sending a chill through Enid. "Wednesday's all about control, right? She likes to call the shots, stay in charge. You need to flip the script. Make her lose control. Make her want you so badly that she can't hide behind her walls."

Enid blinked, processing Yoko's words. "How exactly do I do that?"

"Easy," Yoko said, leaning back with a smug smile. "You do exactly what she did to you. Tell her it's an experiment."

Enid's eyes widened. "What?"

Yoko nodded enthusiastically. "Corner her, like she's been doing with you. Say something about wanting to run an experiment of your own, then kiss her, and before she can react, run off. Rinse and repeat."

Divina snickered. "Oh, that's evil. I like it."

The siren grinned, clearly enjoying the idea. "Yeah! If she wants to treat this like some kind of experiment, then show her what it feels like."

Enid thought it over, her heart pounding. She was nervous, but Yoko had a point. If she didn't make a move soon, who knew how long Wednesday would keep avoiding her? The plan was set.

The next day, Enid found herself in the hallway between classes. She spotted Wednesday moving briskly through the crowd, her dark figure standing out against the sea of uniforms. Enid's heart leapt in her chest. This was her chance.

"Wednesday, wait!" she called, her voice louder than she intended.

Wednesday didn't stop. In fact, she sped up, her braid swishing behind her as if she were actively trying to escape. For a moment, Enid felt a pang of sadness, but then she remembered—she was a werewolf. She didn't need to chase; she could simply catch her.

With a burst of speed, Enid closed the distance between them, her hand wrapping firmly around Wednesday's wrist. In one swift motion, she pulled her into a nearby empty classroom, shutting the door behind them and pressing Wednesday against it.

"Enid!" Wednesday's eyes flashed with irritation as she steadied herself against the door. "If you ever—"

But Enid didn't let her finish. "I have something to say," she interrupted, her voice surprisingly calm despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside her.

She had Wednesday cornered now, literally and figuratively. Her pulse was racing, and for a brief second, she was distracted by how beautiful the girl in front of her looked—the dark, stormy eyes that seemed to hide so much. Her mate. She had missed her more than she even realized.

But she couldn't get lost in that now. She had a plan.

"I've decided to run an experiment of my own," Enid said, her voice soft but determined.

Wednesday's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Enid's heart thudded in her chest as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Wednesday's with a gentleness that belied the tension between them. She kissed her—soft at first, testing, waiting for Wednesday to pull away.

But Wednesday didn't. Her body stiffened, then relaxed, just slightly, as she kissed Enid back. It wasn't the same as last time; this was more hesitant, more restrained. But it was still there. The connection. The spark.

Before things could go any further, Enid pulled away, her breath shaky, and flashed Wednesday a small, teasing smile. "Thanks for helping me with my experiment," she whispered.

Then, without another word, she darted out of the room, leaving Wednesday standing there, staring after her with a mixture of confusion and frustration.