Listen to Me Now // Wenclair

Four

It was in the next three-and-a-half years that Yoko and Enid learned to co-exist with humans (and each other) when Enid had realized just how much she depended on Yoko; how close the two had grown to the point that the young werewolf had been proud to call her a close—if not best—friend; a sister, almost (Yoko being the first and only person she had gone to when she had failed to wolf-out).

And it had been out of pure coincidence that the two were going to become classmates at Nevermore in the upcoming fall season, much to a younger Enid's great satisfaction.

It's with all of that and a few months to add in which Enid found herself in the present at a complete and utter loss as she stared down at the items in her hand, confusion and so, so many questions rattling in her brain.

A few hours ago, Enid had made the ever-so-wise decision of texting Yoko about her girl troubles, still half asleep but twice as desperate as the day before. If she thought about it now, maybe it wasn't the best idea to look for assistance from Yoko of all people. Yes, the vampire had lived decades longer than Enid herself, but was it really a smart decision to leave the fate of her love life in the hands of a woman who had outdated smartphones? Then again, Enid thought to herself, twirling the stem of a black flower between her pinched fingers, Wednesday doesn't really live in our era, either.

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Enid ended up questioning Yoko for what felt like the hundredth time that day, her brows furrowing as she gave the vampire an unsure look. "This is Wednesday we're talking about, after all."

"I'm sure," Yoko nodded her confirmation, a fanged smile faintly creeping onto her lips. "Nothing screams 'be my girlfriend' like a box of chocolates and a rose."

"Black dahlia," Enid corrected, inspecting the flower in her hand. She remembered it faintly as the same flower Thornhill had given her after she had first settled into the dorms. It feels like so long ago, Enid thought to herself, briefly reminiscing the day she had met her roommate.

"Same thing," Yoko waved her off, cutting into Enid's daydream. "Besides, she can't possibly be that ignorant."

"You'd be surprised," Enid mumbled, fingers moving up along the stem to toy with the black petals. Despite the lack of attention being given to the vampire that moment, the blonde didn't miss the way Yoko's brows quirked, clearly wanting to question what that implied, though Enid gave her a half-hearted glare which instantly made Yoko feign disinterest, not wanting to get on the werewolf's bad side so early in the morning.

To say Enid was embarrassed for all her failed attempts was nothing short of an understatement. Yes, it was a given that wooing someone of the Addams's lineage would be excruciatingly difficult, but it still didn't help quell the ache in her chest every time those feelings were ignored. And it may have been because of a passing look on the blonde's face, but Yoko's face slowly contorted into something sympathetic and almost understanding. Before the vampire could say anything, however, the sound of boots clicking against concrete in the (mostly) empty courtyard called for both of their attention, Enid quick to feel her heart stutter as she was met the sight of her roommate making her way out from Ophelia Hall. "Now's your chance," Yoko whispered, pushing her gently towards the braided woman who had taken quick notice of them. "Go get her!"

"Can you shut up," Enid hissed, barely loud enough for Yoko to hear, her apprehension clear and written drastically on her face; although she had no time to take notice of the growing smirk on her friend's face as she found her feet moving faster than she would normally ever allow them to. Much to the blonde's surprise, Wednesday had halted briefly near one of the pillars, allowing Enid to catch up with her, eyes softer than usual as she met Enid's gaze. Though the black-haired woman's brows were quick to furrow with confusion, her expression twisting into something unreadable, as she glanced down to see the items in Enid's hands, jaw setting firmly in the process.

"Who are those for?" Wednesday queried, gesturing to the box and flower in her hands. "Ajax?"

"N-No," Enid mumbled softly, face burning under Wednesday's gaze. "Actually, we stopped seeing each other a while ago."

Wednesday's expression went blank (though, that wasn't very out of character for Wednesday), but Enid could have sworn that there was a brief, almost ghostly presence of relief that passed by her gaze. "Oh," Wednesday eventually said, sounding incredibly unbothered. "I see. I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Enid waved her off, a smile growing on her face. "It was honestly a bit relieving when we broke it off. I was able to really think about my feelings and discover a few things about myself in the process." Enid clutched the items in her hands as she felt herself relive the feeling of self-discovery and acceptance. "Yoko helped me realize that I never really liked him. At least, not in a romantic way. I was just projecting my feelings for someone else onto him—compulsory, I think was what Yoko called it." It was mildly surprising to Enid that she was able to say all this so easily to Wednesday; and despite there being a distant, faint fear, she found that it wasn't as controlling as it normally was in that moment. Though, there was something heavy in the air; something indescribable and foreign, and as Enid let herself focus on Wednesday fully, she found the psychic's expression to have shifted and morphed into something that Enid couldn't pinpoint. "Wednesday?"

Wednesday blinked and shook her head, almost as if pulling herself out of a stupor, before turning to meet Enid's gaze once more. "I'm happy for you," Wednesday muttered, though the words were empty, holding no truth to them. "I hope that this...person of interest brings you great and undeniable happiness." She brushed her hand over her bangs, almost as though trying to fix them (there was a passing thought in Enid's head: How can you fix something that's already flawless?). It was strange for the werewolf to see Wednesday not only saying something undeniably and genuinely kind to her but also exposing a small window of anxiety to her character. Enid hadn't thought Wednesday capable of feeling anxious, yet...here she was. Before she could say anything, however, Wednesday was quick to fix herself, before giving her the blankest look she could muster. "I'm afraid that I'm running out of time. I was called in by the new headmaster, and I'm already running late."

"W-Wait—" Enid tried to call for Wednesday's attention once more, hand grasping lightly at her wrist as the psychic turned around. "I have to tell you—"

"Not right now, Enid," Wednesday cut her off, pulling her hand away from Enid's grip. "We can talk about this after classes. For now, I recommend you go to Yoko. It looks like she's about to have a stroke."

Enid blinked at that, looking over her shoulder to find exactly what Wednesday had mentioned; Yoko sat at one of the picnic tables, staring at them in absolute and blatant shock, jaw practically unhinged as her sunglasses began to slide across the bridge of her nose. "She can wait—" Enid had begun to speak, but as she turned around expecting to see Wednesday, she found that the girl was already gone. Enid looked around, almost frantically, searching for any signs of her roommate, but she felt her heart drop as she found that Wednesday had well and truly vanished.

And, with her gifts still in hand, she sulked her way back to Yoko who sat slack-jawed and stared up at her in shock and genuine dismay. "What was that!?" The girl had questioned, her voice barely a whisper as she gripped Enid's wrist and hauled her onto the seat. "What happened!?"

Enid whined, cradling the flower in her hand as she dropped the box of chocolates on the table. "She thought they were for someone else."

"What!?" Yoko stared at Enid in disbelief. "Did you not tell her they were for her!?"

"I–I didn't—I didn't know how!"

Yoko pinched the bridge of her nose, and Enid could practically see the steam that wafted from the top of her head. "I can't believe this."

"You said that it would work!" Enid complained, a whine barely cracking through her voice.

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd do everything but tell her they were for her! That was the whole point of this!" Yoko groaned as Enid's expression contorted into something of that like a kicked puppy. "I knew you two were dense, but this," Yoko looked up at Enid through her glasses, "this is something else entirely."