Wenclair oneshots

Valentine

Summary:
Enid told her Valentine's Day wasn't important to her. Everyone else told her that was a lie.

So she does what any self-respecting Addams would do: woo the girl.

Wednesday hated the idea of Valentine's Day, thought the idea of manufactured love for one day of the year both pointless and borderline insulting. The bright reds and pinks of the holiday were painful to see every year, and going to any normie school during that time was like a death sentence chosen specifically to torture her in her own personal hell. There was one year, a burly jock had asked her to be his Valentine as an obvious dare, though she had eviscerated any chance he had to make a joke at her expense. The Addams family didn't celebrate Valentine's Day in the traditional sense in any case, instead focusing on old legends and pagan rituals, instead of the modernized holiday. Any time Wednesday tried to explain Lupercalia to the normies, they actively avoided her for weeks afterward. It was a win.

And then she met Enid Sinclair.

Transferring to Nevermore had initially been a curse for Wednesday, especially having been paired with the most colorful creature known to man for her supposed tenure there. Though Enid surprised her from the very beginning, had supported Wednesday in her strange endeavors and seemed to hang on every word out of the psychic's mouth, Wednesday was almost determined to keep her at an arm's length. She wasn't exactly sure when or where it happened, but sometime during their extended break after the Crackstone incident, Wednesday realized, with the utmost horror, that she was foolishly in love with the energetic werewolf. And when she had professed her feelings in the most Addams way possible, under a nearly full moon and with nothing short of theater, Enid had melted immediately and pulled her in for a kiss so powerful that it made Wednesday see stars.

Their relationship was as easy as it was comforting, the blonde so perceptive of Wednesday that it almost made her nervous, unused to being so wholly understood. Enid was sweet and doting, and affectionate, and Wednesday quickly adjusted to the blonde's never-ending need to always be in contact with her in any way, shape, or form. They held hands wherever they went, stole kisses in darkened corridors between classes, cuddled together under the covers during movie nights, and hugged in greeting every morning. Enid was nothing but respectful, but once she was given permission, she was an unstoppable force of what Wednesday could only affectionately refer to as love mauling. She secretly loved it, though, loved teasing Enid whenever they were alone together, and the blonde would pout at being denied a chance for a hug; Wednesday was enamored by the way her wolf would react as though not having her in her arms was an act of treason.

Wednesday nearly worshipped the ground her partner walked on, was usually doing small romantic gestures as a means to show her love and gratitude, still not as adept at physical expression as her bubbly counterpart, and Enid folded for her every single time.

She didn't need Valentine's day to show Enid that she loved her, would do whatever she had to, in order to make her smile, any given day of the week. She was also sure, however, that Enid loved Valentine's, that one day a year supposed to be a true show of one's undying love for their intended. So on a frosty January morning, when she woke up beside her incredibly warm girlfriend, Wednesday was rather surprised when Enid had cupped her face and told her not to worry about Valentine's, before sealing it with a kiss, as if to punctuate her point.

Wednesday had been relieved, the pressure off her shoulders, glad she didn't have to bark like a dog for a corporate holiday.

It was every one else that seemed to have a problem with it. Every single one of their friends had been shocked that Wednesday had so easily fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book, that Enid had given her an out, because she knew how much Wednesday hated the very idea of Valentine's. A seed of doubt planted in her mind after the sixth person came up to her to ask about her plans, only to bitingly remark that she didn't have any and that Enid had expressly told her not to bother with the pomp and circumstance. Even Bianca had given her the side-eye during fencing practice, the siren shaking her head in disbelief.