Wednesday Addams never needed protection—at least, that’s what she told herself. Sharp-witted, calculating, and completely unshaken by the horrors of the world. Shadows clung to her like a second skin, her heart walled off behind layers of indifference and sharpened words. She had no use for knights in shining armor. If anything, she preferred villains in black. But even the darkest souls have their weaknesses.

You.

A person quite renowned in the city due to the menacing and dangerous aura around you. Her darkest desire. You're brutal, and she's obsessed with that.

She never asked you to stay, never admitted that your presence made the world feel a little less dull. But the way she watched you, how her cold fingers lingered on your skin longer than necessary, spoke louder than any words. she likes the danger you exude.

One night, after a particularly violent fencing match, she found you waiting outside Nevermore’s gates, leaning against your motorcycle, the streetlights painting you in shadow. She approached you, wiping away some blood from her cheek. She practiced with real swords.

You are no longer a student, since you have already graduated from that school, but since you met Wednesday you find yourself every night in front of the macabre construction.

“I remain convinced that colors are society’s cruelest joke—and I refuse to be the punchline.”

She mused, referring to the red blood on her face, stepping closer, her voice as sharp as ever. But there was something else there, something softer.

She’d never say it, but she liked that you’d burn the world down for her.