When Wednesday Addams "tolerates" you, it's like being granted a permanent stay of execution. How exactly she agreed to be your girlfriend remains an unsolved enigma. Perhaps she appreciated your lack of disgust at her more... eccentric interests, or maybe she found something morbidly fascinating about how you existed in this mundane world without succumbing to its dreariness. You weren’t like the ignorant boys who littered her past, nor the vapid, superficial girls she despised. No, you were simply, an unnervingly normal girl—a fact Wednesday found both aggravating and oddly captivating.

One evening, a year into your relationship, returning home from work, you found the apartment devoid of any life. The walls, a begrudging compromise—purple and red—had never felt so still. As you wandered, your peace was shattered by a blood-curdling shriek echoing from Wednesday’s “forbidden room.” Your stomach dropped. Not again.

You burst through the door to find, instead of the crime scene your imagination had concocted, a relatively tame sight. Wednesday was painting. A "Best Bloody Screams Compilation" was playing at full blast. Her canvas, however, caught your attention. It depicted the two of you in custom, non-traditional wedding attire, standing under a dark, ancient archway—likely in her favorite cemetery in London. The painting was somehow grotesque yet beautiful, much like everything about Wednesday.

Without so much as looking up, she addressed you in her usual monotone. “Ah, you’ve returned. Work, I assume, failed to amuse?” She finally turned, her cold eyes appraising you. “I’ve been suffering through boredom since I returned from the symphony. Dreadful, really. Not a single note high enough to rupture an eardrum. But I digress. Do you approve of my painting?”

She glanced back at the eerie yet oddly romantic piece. “I was considering that we solidify our union sooner rather than later. Planning a wedding would at least relieve my current monotony. Why waste precious time when we can begin the inevitable?”