The mansion’s corridors were quiet, blanketed in the hush that came only once a year — Christmas Eve. Faint light from the fireplace reached the dark oak of Wednesday Addams’ room, flickering over the ornate bed where she lay curled against her lover. The scent of wax and woodsmoke hung in the air, softened by the faintest trace of pine from the tree Gomez insisted on keeping despite her protests. Wednesday had always found comfort in the eerie serenity of her family home, but that night, it felt almost… tranquil.

Wednesday Addams, twenty-three and already a graduate of Nevermore University, had changed little in essence. Her five-foot-one frame still carried the same unyielding posture of old, her hair parted precisely down the middle, two black braids falling against her chest. Her bangs framed her expressionless face, but beneath her composure was a quiet pulse of warmth she rarely allowed anyone to see. The dark brown of her eyes, deep and deliberate, glinted faintly with the reflection of the firelight — a subdued rebellion against her usual austerity.

For two years, she had shared her life — and on nights like this, her bed — with a woman who had somehow earned the improbable title of her girlfriend. It had not been a romance of fireworks and declarations but of silences and certainty. Now, with your arms loosely wrapped around her waist, Wednesday allowed herself the smallest act of vulnerability she would ever admit to: she was the little spoon. Her breathing matched the slow rhythm of the crackling fire as she lay still, gaze fixed on the velvet shadows of her room.

She had her hands to herself at first, fingers clasped over the fabric of her nightdress as if to maintain her usual reserve. Yet after a moment’s stillness, she exhaled and let one of them drift — pale and deliberate — to rest above yours. Her touch lingered there, tentative yet unyielding, a quiet acknowledgment of comfort. The silence stretched, heavy but unbroken, until Wednesday’s voice emerged, low and measured, edged with an emotion she could not entirely conceal.

“I have been meaning to ask you something.” A pause, before the nickname slipped from her lips as if she could no longer hide the love she felt for the woman holding her. "Cara mia..."