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2 years ago

Flowers

Flowers

Enid's favorite flowers were roses.

They were classic. Sweet, romantic, and simple. She never had gotten roses before, no matter how many times she had not so subtlety hinted to Ajax that she wanted some. So she had no idea why they were on her bed.

Tied together with a neat black ribbon, they leaned against the pillows of her bed (which was freshly made by the way, something she definitely didn't do). Enid picked the flowers up, but hissed and dropped them as the thornes in the stems poked her. One had only slightly pricked her, but just as a precaution she slid her sleeves over her hands and tossed them on her vanity as she took a tissue and dabbed at the minor cut on her fingertips.

“Wednesday? Do you know who dropped these flowers off?” Enid muttered, still tending to the cuts on her fingers.

“No.” Said Wednesday.

Enid let her gaze linger on the flowers, and even though she was still disappointed by Wednesdays answer, she felt her mouth slip into a smile from the kind gesture. Enid walked over to Wednesdays side of the room and jumped into her bed without permission, wrinkling Wednesday's black covers. Enid noticed the ways Wednesdays nose twitched in annoyance at it, but her eyes remained glued to her pages she was proof reading and editing in red marker. “It was kind of sweet someone got me flowers, don't you think?” Enid asked, feeling a bubble of warmth blossom in her chest.

“No. They're probably a homicidal maniac” Said Wednesday, in typical Wednesday fashion. Enid felt her face sink into a frown. “Well, I think it was” she muttered, hopping of Wednesdays bed and going to her side of the room, her mood soured from her roommate.

The next bouquet of flowers were bigger. They were just as red- if not redder, and the thorns were neatly snipped off of the stem. Her old bouquet was starting to wilt, and Wednesday seemingly found it the best time to steal them and snip off the rose buds, happily displaying the dying stems in a vase of her own. But Enid had more, so she didn't care. And with the flowers came a note. She flipped it open, revealing something much better than the spiral notebook paper that she had expected. It was a folded card that looked nearly perfectly symmetrical, with elegant red cursive on it.

I noticed the cuts on your fingers. It'll never happen again.

And signing the note, with a flourish we're the words… Secret Admirer .

Enid actually screamed out loud at the words, beginning to spin around joyously. Wednesday groaned quietly. “Enid, what are you doing?” She muttered, only just giving Enid the time of day by turning slightly away from her typewriter. “I have a secret admirer!” Enid exclaimed, throwing herself into a pile of her stuffed animals. She popped her head out of the pile and felt the smile on her face nearly split her cheeks with how big it was. "Oh my gosh, the person getting me flowers likes me!" She cried out, nuzzling her nose into her favorite squishamllow. "I mean, they signed a note with secret admirer!" She revealed, waiting for Wednesdays reaction.

Wednesday held eye contact for maybe a few seconds.

“Well, I'm glad” Wednesday mumbled, in a voice uncharacteristically soft for her. Then she turned right back to her typewriter and kept on writing as if there was nothing better in existence. Enid snuggled further into her pile, grinning at the bouquet on her bed and the note.

Enid frowned at her flowers, gently reaching her thumb out to touch a browning petal. Wednesday set down her book against her chest, turning to look at Enid from her bed. “What are you frowning about?” She said, in an almost annoyed tone. “my flowers are dying,” said Enid, trying to turn the case and see if any flower was still as red as they were when she first got them. They were all browning.

“They're just flowers,” Wednesday grumbled, her braids splaying across her single pillow as her head shifted. “I like them!” Enid snapped, feeling anger deep into the crevices of her stomach and feeding a hunger of emotions. “I think it's really nice.” Enid immediately felt guilty after she snapped, but she didn't say anything about it. It's not like it was her fault. “Isn't it strange that this person knows where you sleep?” Wednesday inquired. Enid blinked owlishly. “Do you know who it is?” She asked, turning to Wednesday. Wednesday immediately buried her nose in her book once more, even though it was upside down. “No.” She said, but Enid knew she was lying. “Well then, it must be one of my friends!” Enid declared, beginning to finger through her hair in curiosity, a nervous habit she never got rid of. Enid's brain began to piece all she knew together, and then it clicked. Enid ran over to the card on her desk, and opened it once more. “I'll just see who's handwriting matches who's!” Enid quickly turned her head at the sharp intake of breath Wednesday sounded. “What? Do you know who it is?” Enid piped, knowing Wednesday would deny it again. “I have no idea what fool would even consider sending flowers to someone they care for. The only person I know foolish enough to do it is my own Mother,” Wednesday mutters, abandoning her book to instead climb out colorful window of their room. Seemed like Enid struck a nerve.

“Enid!” Bianca chimed. Enid quickly turned to her and all but short of ran to her, the both of them quietly squeezing into one of the schools many dead end alleys. “Did you figure it out?” Enid said in a hushed tone, practically vibrating with how excited she was. “Yes,’’Bianca breathed out, silently handing over a piece of paper. Enid took her card out of her skirt pocket with only a slightly clumsy fumble before unfolding the lined paper she was given, comparing the two handwriting. Both were messy cursive, and Enid instantly knew it was the same person. They even dotted their I's with a skull, it was adorable! “Yes!” She hissed, excitedly. She would be moments away from confronting them with their declarations of love! “They're an exact match. Who is it?” She cooed, wiggling on the soles of her feet as she looked up at Bianca. Bianca swallowed, eyes flickering from the paper to Enid. “It's Wednesday.”

“Wednesday!”

Enid screamed, slamming open the door of her dorm room. Wednesday entered through the window, her face looking a bit softer than it usually was. She must've been practicing. Enid could smell the wind on her. “What?” She said, but Enid could barely let her finish. “It was you?!” She choked out, shoving the piece of paper Bianca had given her in Wednesdays hands. “.. If you're saying I wrote these notes, then yes, it was me.” Enid shook her head, not caring about the tears wetting her face and neck. She was probably imagining the way Wednesdays eyes followed them. “No!” She said in between her quickening breaths. “I didn't think so.” Wednesday hummed, folding her note paper quietly and setting it down on her desk. “Did you do it to make fun of me, or to see how long I'd fall for it?” Enid shrieked, with a voice eerily similar to her Mother's.

“Neither” whispered Wednesday, turning her back on Enid. Somehow, that hurt more than when Wednesday looked at her. Enid felt her chest rise and fall in a pace much too quick, mirroring her palpitating heart. “Why?” sobbed out Enid, hunching over in a desperate attempt to catch her breath. Her heart aches in the sense of betrayal, feeling her pulse only quicken under the response of Wednesday.

“I did it because I have feelings for you.”

..

...

.......

Wednesday couldn't sleep again. While many times when she could not sleep she would play her cello, she thought better than to do that. She awoke to a not so quiet shifting coming from Enid's side of the room, making her stir. She rose into a sitting position as she uncrossed her arms, rubbing her eyes. As they adjusted to the Darkness, Wednesday gasped at a new addition on her desk. Carefully, she approached it. She didn't want to set off another sudden motion detected bomb that Pugsley could have sent her. Oh, but it wasn't a bomb at all.

Roses. And in the moonlight, she could clearly see their color.

Black.

Wednesday turned in disbelief, knowing there was only one person who could have done it. She met Enid's eyes. Enid smiled in a feeble, wobbly manner, and Wednesday felt herself lift from her bent position over her desk as though she was light as air. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and when she spoke, there was a stark contrast to her usually monotonous voice. “I'm a fool for you as my Mother is to my Father” she admitted. And she only hesitated for a second before she ran into Enid's arms.


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