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what does he have that I don't?

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Wednesday Addams knew exactly what she wanted to achieve and she recognized the inevitability of using certain people as a means to an end. That’s what Tyler Galpin was to her. His ties to the sheriff and, by consequence, to the police department that chased their own tails on a futile attempt to catch the murderer proved to be useful, at the very least.

She didn’t particularly enjoy spending time with him, but she deemed it a necessary annoyance to get the work done quickly and efficiently. He was too eager to fill in what he considered to be “awkward silences”, or so he told her, while she failed to see the point in communicating more than she deemed important. It irked her to have to crane her neck to look up at him so he would stop repeating himself as if the lack of visual contact meant she was not paying attention, she had better things to do than to look at a dopey half smile directed her way in pathetic infatuation.

It wasn’t that she was completely apathetic of romance, it was actually quite the opposite. She had always enjoyed the idea of falling in love, adoring somebody enough that she would be willing to kill for them, die for them, break the world and bring gods to their knees for them. She didn’t express it often, knowing she would know the moment her eyes crossed those of the person destined to tame the wild flame inside her heart. 



“It’s an Addams thing,” her father had told her one day while they practiced some traditional fencing. “Trust me, you will know, there’s nothing else like it. You look at that special someone and your entire world just stops. Everything around you ceases to matter, you can feel it deep inside, clawing its way up your throat and leaving it raw, bloody, rendering you speechless. It makes you want to drop to your knees and vow your eternal loyalty to them.”


At some point during his passionate speech he had thrown the saber to the wall, climbing on top of his desk as if he were reciting the most devastatingly beautiful of verses.


“You will want to rip your beating heart out and present it as a humble offering, for it is no longer yours.” He continued, gesturing to his own chest. “No amount of gold, precious stones or exotic silks will ever invigorate your very soul nearly as much as the sight of them. That, little storm cloud, is how an Addams experiences love.” 



She had denied it back then, declaring without an ounce of doubt that she would not turn into a smitten fool just for somebody’s affections. She refused to even consider behaving like her father, but also despised the idea of somebody else acting like that towards her.



“Wednesday, do you think that maybe someday you might want to get married and have kids?,” asked a scrawny boy with a poorly drawn on mustache, a sad imitation of her father’s.


“No.” She responded without hesitation, a resolute answer that she knew to be true at her age.


“But what if you met the right man, who worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?,” he insisted, too eager to receive an answer from her.


What would she do? She truly couldn’t imagine herself roped in a commitment as exuberant as her parents’, much less with a man. ‘Perhaps a woman, then?,’ provided that quiet voice inside her head that barely made itself known. She shoved the idea down, promising herself she would revisit that train of thought later on during a moment of quiet solitude, and gave as cold an answer as she could muster after being caught so off guard.


“I’d pity him.”

As time went by, she realized she would quite enjoy finding her twin flame in a woman. All of her family’s matriarchs were powerful, bewitching, forces to be reckoned with. What type of woman would steal the breath from her lungs? She was actually quite thrilled at the prospect.

Turns out her father was right, although it wouldn’t be something she’d be willing to admit out loud. Her world seemed to have turned upside down the moment she laid eyes on Enid Sinclair. Bright, preppy, nauseatingly colorful Enid Sinclair. At first she was too stunned to even process the feeling that made itself a home in her chest, quickening her heartbeat to the point where she could feel it pounding away on her eardrums. Her eyes widened and her posture stiffened as her breath hitched ever so slightly. 


The love of her life was standing right in front of her.


She was painfully aware of the fact that Enid most likely didn’t experience romantic attraction the same way she did, so she had to win her over slowly. Despite being set on biding her time, the idea of her roommate finding somebody else made her blood boil. She loathed the sharp pang of jealousy that went through her when she spotted her too close to the fanged pest she called a friend, unknowingly glaring at the pair most of the time.

Even then, she refused to dive into a rushed relationship the same way her parents did. She would take her time observing her future wife’s habits, sharing tidbits of herself when she deemed it appropriate. When would be the right time to commence her courting?

She spent the following weeks tiptoeing around the unfamiliar feelings prickling at her nerves, doing her best to assimilate the overwhelming need to be close to the blonde while investigating the murders going on around them. 


Enter Tyler Galpin.


They had spent the last few afternoons together in the library, going through book after book that offered little to answers at all, when she caught herself feeling more irritated than usual with his behavior, leaning away for the fifth time after he had leaned in closer to “get a better look” at the leather clad tome held in her slender hands.


“Your affections are misplaced, quit your wooing at once and focus on our research.” She said curtly, no feeling seeping through her monotonous voice.


The curly haired boy opened his mouth to respond, but she held her hand up to silence him before he dared disturb the peaceful silence she had grown to crave when she was around him.

He knew better than to test her limits any further, lest he wanted to find out how exactly you could stab the human body with any blunt object if you used enough strength. She was pleased when he kept his silence, even slightly grateful that he wouldn’t insist on pursuing her romantically even after she expressed her distaste on the matter, and went back to reading and writing down notes on parchment with neat, elegant handwriting.

When they parted it was with a silent understanding between them of what would not be, the air seeming lighter and much less suffocating now that the expectations had taken their leave. 


She didn’t pay any mind to her roommate when she crossed the threshold of the space they shared, going straight to her typewriter to make a transcript of the notes she had taken.

Her focus was pulled from the task at hand when a low, threatening growl reached her ears. With a barely noticeable startle, she turned to look at Enid holding onto her disgustingly colorful bedding for dear life. She refused to let her mind linger on the chills that crawled up her spine at the reminder of just how deadly her future wife could be. 

The blonde haired girl could easily rip a man to shreds with only her claws, but what could she possibly achieve once she was able to turn completely? Would her bite pierce through skin and muscle until she snapped the bone? Could she drag her victim deeper into the woods and dig into their entrails, pulling away with blood soaking her fur? The mere image was exhilarating, igniting a spark of something akin to excitement within Wednesday.

She let her eyes travel across the sight of the usually upbeat girl, noting how taut her muscles were and just how distressed she seemed to be.

Had she done something to earn this sort of reaction? She couldn’t recall anything out of the ordinary besides the fact that they were nearing the full moon. ‘That must be it,’ she thought to herself while she stood from her seat, undoing her braids with nimble fingers and grabbing a quick change of clothes before making her way to the bathroom. 

She allowed the lukewarm water streaming from the showerhead to wash away not only the filth, but also the stress that had collected on her shoulders. Entertaining the sheriff’s son proved to be an exhausting task, especially considering he was the last person she would want to spend her time with aside from the investigation.

It was only a matter of minutes before she stepped out of the bathroom, hair slightly damp and expression unguarded, when a rushed movement caught her attention. She stared at her roommate for a few seconds, examining her nervous demeanor, and eventually chalked it up to her being on edge.


Enid was acting suspicious.


It all began after her feral outburst at their shared room, but it didn’t particularly rub Wednesday the wrong way. She seemed more nervous, trying to act aloof when she clearly wasn’t. Was she, perhaps, beginning to return her affections? She noted the way her cheeks turned a beautiful rosy shade and seemed to ramble more than usual while she was around Wednesday, as if trying to distract her from something.


That afternoon proved to be very much the same. She went to the library to return a book she had borrowed the last time she was there on her own and decided to spend the remaining daylight in the company of Enid, seeing as neither of them had any other business to attend to. 


All of her thoughts came to a screeching halt as soon as she set her eyes on the blonde werewolf. There she was, holding one of her hooded sweatshirts and rubbing it against her neck.


“What are you doing?” She asked, admittedly curious at the odd display in front of her. 


“Nothing.” Came the rushed reply, followed by a wince. The shorter of the two let out a quiet hum, directing her gaze at the item of clothing so carelessly discarded on the floor.


“You’re a terrible liar.” 


A beat of silence, and then,


“I don’t like it when you smell like him.”


Understanding dawned on the ravenette’s features and she stifled a tiny smile that threatened to stretch her lips at the adorable display of possessiveness.


“I see.” She muttered. “So you were spreading your scent instead.”


The air between them stood still, too thick for comfort and filled to the brim with unspoken truths after the weak confirmation from the bright eyed girl. She supposed she could be the one to reach out, if only because the opportunity was too perfect to miss.


“I suppose werewolves are territorial creatures.” Wednesday mused, walking closer to the other with careful steps, almost as if one too loud noise would spook her and send her running away. She relished in the increased height difference now that she wasn’t wearing her signature platforms, but she chose to bow her head when mere centimeters remained between them to make her intentions even clearer. 


“Go ahead then, scent me.”


She waited for a moment before huffing lowly, admittedly amused at the werewolf’s expense, and pressing herself up against the other’s chest. She nudged her weakly with her temple, which apparently was enough to spring her into action.

She felt strong hands circle her waist and a soft caress across her face, eliciting a trail of goosebumps all over her skin that couldn’t have possibly gone unnoticed by the canine. She allowed the feral exchange, even contributing to it while trying her best to mimic the other’s motions after returning the intimate embrace.

Eventually the urge to promise herself to the taller one became too much to bear. It couldn’t be helped, she thought to herself. The Fates had brought her here, to Nevermore, to the place where she found the one person capable of sharing her life with her. Perhaps it wasn’t time apart they needed, nor to take things as slow as Wednesday had previously planned.

In that case…


So be it.


And so she pulled away ever so slightly to look at her face, finding nothing but unabashed adoration in return. This is exactly where she wanted to be, she had finally found her home away from home. The only thing left to do was to seal the deal for the two of them, so she reached for Enid before capturing her lips in a gentle kiss.


She couldn’t wait to write home about this.