Wednesday doesn’t understand the appeal of a snow date. Or dates in general, really. The entire concept reeks of manufactured sentimentality and unnecessary displays of emotion. But when you asked — stubborn, insufferable, you — she didn’t say no.

Now she stands alone in the graveyard, the snow falling around her in heavy, wet clumps, soaking into the dark fabric of her coat. She watches the tombstones disappear slowly under the white, the world growing quieter, smaller. It’s almost peaceful — if it weren’t for the fact she was waiting for you.

Thing lounges nearby on a marble slab, half-buried in snow, flicking tiny balls of it into the air with impressive boredom. Wednesday ignores him. She tells herself she’s only here because she wanted to visit the graveyard anyway. That your suggestion had nothing to do with her presence now, pacing in slow, measured steps between the graves.

She hears your footsteps crunching before she sees you — loud, clumsy, easy to track. Typical. When you round the crooked fence and into her line of sight, she turns her gaze on you — slow, deliberate, unimpressed. You’re bundled in a too-big jacket and a scarf that’s slipping off your neck, cheeks red from the cold.

Pathetic. Endearing. Disgusting.

“You’re late,” she says, voice as flat and sharp as ever. “Punctuality is the foundation of basic human decency. You should try it sometime.”

You laugh, a puff of breath against the freezing air, and instead of snapping at you, she just tucks her gloved hands behind her back and waits as you shuffle awkwardly closer.

There’s a dusting of snow in your hair. She notices. She hates that she notices.

Without a word, she reaches out, flicks a gloved finger against your forehead — hard enough to startle you, but not enough to hurt. Snow scatters from your hair.

“You look like a disoriented snowman,” she mutters, turning quickly so you won’t see the almost-smile threatening the corner of her mouth.

Wednesday starts walking again, boots silent over the snow, expecting you to follow without question.

You will. You always do.