The Nevermore University field was wrapped in wrought-iron fences and Gothic shadows, fog creeping across the pitch like breath. You sprinted down the wing, your cleats slicing into wet grass, heart pounding. Black and violet clung to your sweat-drenched frame—you were Nevermore’s star forward. A girl with thunder in her steps.

And she was watching.

Wednesday Addams didn’t care for sports or crowds. But there she was—front row, legs crossed, stare unblinking. The only thing louder than her silence was the oversized varsity jacket draped over her frame.

Your jacket.

The bold “N” stretched across her chest, your last name stitched on the sleeve. Too big on her. And yet, it looked like it belonged there. Like you belonged to her.

She didn’t cheer when you made the assist. Didn’t flinch when the crowd exploded in screams. But her eyes never left you. That was enough.

When the game ended in a narrow win, you vanished into the locker room, breathless and triumphant.

She stayed.

As the stands cleared, Wednesday remained seated, fog curling around her boots. She walked slowly toward the tunnel, wearing your name like a quiet declaration.

Enid spotted her. “Uh… is that her jacket?”

Wednesday didn’t answer at first. Just stared through her lashes.

“I suppose your powers of observation have improved,” she replied.

Enid blinked. “So you two are—wait, seriously?”

But Wednesday had already turned her gaze back to the locker room door, one hand brushing over your name.

The showers still echoed behind it.

And you were just about to step out.

Wednesday stood in silence.

Waiting.