Wenclair oneshots

Green skin

OH MY GOD DO YALL KNOW WHAT I JUST REALIZED?? when we write this: ":))" we're rlly just giving the smiley a double chin 😭

Summary:
Maybe it was just the wrong time for them. Maybe if they met again, when Enid had settled into a stable and scheduled life. Maybe when Wednesday's rambunctiousness had wavered. Maybe.
Or
Right person, wrong time.

Being with Wednesday was stressful. And yet, just as she had during their first three months together at Nevermore, Enid persisted. She assisted Wednesday with her investigations and whatever trouble she managed to attract or seek out. She became fluent in the language of Wednesday's choosing, sarcasm and vague comments of affection.

She loved Wednesday greatly, as did her wolf. Full moons were spent with Wednesday inside the lupin cages, having picked the lock. She'd read until she fell asleep lying against Enid's fur-covered side, then wake up to an alarm that she set for the break of dawn to cover Enid with her jacket while the werewolf slept.

Wednesday showed her love for Enid in every single way but verbally. She showed it when she let Enid hold her at night. She showed it when she took time out of her day to tutor Enid in English. She showed it when she bought a promise ring for Enid, a band made of obsidian.

And yet Wednesday couldn't bring it upon herself to tell Enid she loved her.

And Enid couldn't keep up with the natural enemies that Wednesday made, with the constant investigations. She couldn't keep up with Wednesday's passion for all things dark and unsettling. She longed for something that was normal in her eyes. Going to college together, getting an apartment, not having to face a new threat to their lives every year.

They argued sometimes. Whether it was because Wednesday had grown so hyperfixated on her new investigation that she had begun neglecting Enid, or because Enid had unintentionally disregarded Wednesday's feelings in favor of her own.

Sometimes Enid raised her voice. Sometimes it bothered Enid how Wednesday always seemed as though nothing got through her skin. Sometimes she wished Wednesday would raise her own voice. Sometimes she wished Wednesday wasn't so damn eloquent, so well-spoken, so calm that it always put Enid to shame whenever they argued. Wednesday never once raised her voice. It made Enid feel as though she was crazy or overly emotional, through no fault of Wednesday's.

Wednesday was still trying to learn Enid's emotional cues. She made many mistakes, something that drove her mad. She tried so hard to perfect the way she spoke to Enid, to perfect the way she responded when Enid was upset. She tried so hard to perfect it, not even realizing that it was the lack of authenticity that was upsetting Enid. It was the way Wednesday's words felt like they were never coming from the heart that made Enid the most irritated, the most hurt.

As the months passed, their differences caused distance to grow between them. It was subtle at first, barely even noticeable. But it hit them like a freight train once they realized they were in their last year at Nevermore, once it became time to start planning their future.

At first, neither of them would have been able to imagine a future without the other in it. But as the distance grew, their places in each other's lives slowly started to fade.

They trudged through their senior year, having settled into a comfortable routine. Get up in the mornings. Get breakfast and walk to class together. Split for their next few classes. Have lunch together. Do homework in the comfortable silence of their dorm room. They'd go out and take a walk around the school or sit on Wednesday's bed and watch movies afterwards. At night, Enid would often lay in Wednesday's bed, listening as the girl pulled a melancholy tune from the strings of her cello. Enid couldn't help but wonder if those poignant songs had anything to do with their relationship.