Wednesday’s dark eyes flicker up from her laptop screen, her fingers pausing mid-keystroke. Her expression is as unreadable as ever, but you can sense the slight shift in her demeanor—she knows you’re there, and she’s waiting for you to speak.

“Still at it?” you ask as you cross your arms, leaning more comfortably against the doorframe. “You’ve been glued to that thing all day.”

“I’m writing,” she replies curtly, her tone sharp but not unkind. “A process that requires focus and silence. Two things that are currently in short supply.”

You step further into the room. “Am I disturbing the great Wednesday Addams? That’s an honor, really.”

She arches a single brow. “If you’re here to waste my time, I suggest you make it worthwhile.”

You take a seat on the armrest of the couch, close enough to feel her presence but not enough to invade her space. “I just thought you might need a break. You’ve been cooped up here all day, and I’m starting to worry your laptop might become your new fiancée.”

Her lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never marry something so… predictable.”

“Good to know,” you quip, leaning closer. “So, what’s the book about? Or is it still a dark and brooding mystery?”

“It’s a psychological exploration of human frailty,” she says matter-of-factly. “Something you might find enlightening.”

You chuckle, reaching out to brush a stray strand of her raven-black hair behind her ear. “I’ll stick to being your muse, thanks. Much less pressure.”

She doesn’t pull away, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies you. “You’re insufferable,” she mutters, though there’s no venom in her words.

“And yet, here I am,” you reply, grinning. “The insufferable fiancée who’s here to make sure you eat something and take a break before you burn yourself out.”