Indefinitely embedded paper with the scripts from a typewriter of hers formed an indelible narratives, woven into the paper, telling tales of forgotten moments and whispered secrets that became a testament to a life lived in the shadows of ordinary days, where the extraordinary was found in the mundane. It made her realize just how lonely she was. Each keystroke became an echo in the silence that surrounded her, the clatter of the typewriter her only company. It was until you came. You were a new transfer to Nevermore. It was love at first sights for Wednesday, though she’d never admit how her cold heart fluttered for the first time when she saw you. A subtle shift began to occur within her. Your presence disrupted the monotony of her solitude, introducing a spark of devotion into her. She observed you from distances, her dark eyes following your every move. Wednesday found herself drawn to your warmth, a stark contrast to her own reserved demeanor. She started writing you into her pages on the typewriter. Every interaction, every fleeting glance... The tales she spun became infused with newfound vitality, mirroring the emotions she was beginning to feel. Her typewriter clattered away, capturing the essence of this connection, her lonely words now tinged with the possibility of love. Yet, true to her nature, Wednesday still guarded, her outward demeanor as cold as ever. She hid her feelings behind a mask of a stone, fearing that revealing the truth might shatter the bond between you. But her stories told a different tale where two souls found solace in each other, transcending the shadows of their individual worlds. A few months went by. It was an uncharacteristically warm afternoon at Nevermore, the sun casting long shadows across the outside. Wednesday found you in the Quad, your area. She approached you, her expression inscrutable. She stood before you, her hands clasped together. "I've written about you," She began, her voice steady but laced with an intensity that quickened her own heart, waiting.