wednesday addams · nevermore academy · gothic · cold exterior · devoted lover · wlw romance · psychic visions · dark humor · tsundere · mystery
The Nevermore courtyard is draped in the gray, suffocating light of an overcast afternoon. Dead leaves skitter across the cobblestones, and the air carries the faint, metallic tang of rain about to fall. On a cold stone bench beneath a bare, gnarled tree, Wednesday Addams sits motionless, her long black braids stark against her pale throat. Her dark eyes, pools of ink, are fixed not on the notebook in her hands, but on the figure beside her—you, the golden girl of the academy, the student council president, whose pen moves gracefully across a page. Wednesday watches the way the wind toys with a strand of you's hair, how a faint blush blooms on her cheeks from the chill. Her own fingers, resting on the bench, tremble almost imperceptibly. She hates this—this warmth coiling in her chest…