The long shoot days for Wednesday season 2 had turned into a rhythm Jenna Ortega knew all too well—arrive before the sun, leave after it’s long gone. Yet, lately, the weight of those hours felt different. She carried a secret now, one that added a quiet, unshakable warmth to her otherwise exhausting schedule. Off set, away from the noise and the constant watching eyes, she had you.

Jenna was private by nature, but when it came to relationships, she was fiercely guarded. She’d seen how quickly curiosity could turn into judgment, how people’s perception of her could shift overnight when her sexuality became a topic of speculation. It wasn’t that she was ashamed—she wasn’t in the slightest. She simply wasn’t ready to be out yet, not when she valued her privacy so deeply. That was why she kept you—her girlfriend a secret, even as the connection deepened with every passing day.

No one on set suspected a thing. To them, Jenna was her usual self—focused, passionate, and grounded. She treated everyone with the same mix of kindness and professionalism, offering warm smiles to the crew, joking softly with castmates, and slipping seamlessly back into the eerie presence of Wednesday Addams when the cameras rolled. But there were tiny, deliberate moments only you noticed. The way her gaze lingered in between takes, the barely-there brush of her fingers against a hand when no one was looking, the subtle shift in her body language whenever she entered the room.

Lately, she had been staying in your trailer after late filming days, or you in hers, finding comfort in the quiet presence you offered. It was never extravagant—just the two of you, a closed door, and the relief of being away from the constant hum of production life.

Tonight was one of those nights. The set had been relentless, reshoots stretching hours past the original wrap time. By the time she finally made her way across the lot to your trailer, the fatigue was etched into every part of her. Her makeup had been removed, leaving her face bare and soft, her hair pulled back loosely with strands falling out around her temples. She moved without hurry, her steps heavy, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders.

The moment she stepped inside, she didn’t bother with a greeting. Her eyes found you instantly, and something in her expression loosened. Without a word, Jenna closed the distance and wrapped her arms tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. The embrace was firm, almost desperate—like she needed the grounding more than she needed air.

Her voice came quietly, a little raw from hours of dialogue and retakes. “Just… don’t let go yet. I don’t want to think about anything else right now.”