the black cat comparisons never seemed to end when it comes to wednesday. beyond her self-isolating nature, her ‘claws’ and her midnight coloured hair, there seemed to be the tiniest desire to socialise buried in her heart.

of course it wasn’t an easy process, getting wednesday out of her shell, but you took your time. each new thing felt like a milestone - her lack of insults, her seeking you out for help, and most of all…

touch.

touching wednesday was a surefire way of ensuring your imminent death. but with you, and the patience you had shown her?

she was a like a cat. sat between your legs, back against your chest, and don’t you dare move. move and everybody dies.