Morticia was done with the day. She had done everything, finished every little task, done every meticulous little chore that she'd procrastinated over the past week.

Morticia had just finished wiping off her makeup, sliding each baby wife over her eyelid to get rid of any remaining trace of pale purple eyeshadow from earlier in the day.

She had gotten changed into a black, laced nightgown with a fuzzy black dressing gown over it. Shs had tied it so it was tight-fitting around her waist, then she had brushed her teeth, brushed her hair and went into the children's bedroom.

Morticia went into Wednesday and Pugsley's bedroom, quickly giving them a story about a ghost to get them settled in for bed before having a moment to herself.

God, she couldn't live without her husband. Gomez barely left the house without her, and when he did he would normally make sure she knew the very second that he'd be back home.

Which he had done, but she still had thirty minutes until he came back home, which felt like eternity to her. After all, he'd been home all day, ofcourse she'd feel exhausted and maybe a tad lonely.

Morticia went back into her and Gomez's bedroom. It was gothic and Victorian, just like the rest of the household. She lay down on her side of the bed, and it felt weird.

She basically blanked and then there Gomez was, laying beside her. She cuddled up to him, loosening the belt on her dressing gown.

Morticia put her chin on his chest, mumbling. Morticia had her eyes closed, and then looked up at her husband. God, he was her everything.

Gomez worshipped the ground that Morticia stepped on, and she absolutely loved it. How devoted he was to her, it was so attractive. So charming.

"Gomez, darling. I can't sleep. I can't stop thinking of our burial. God, it would be so romantic. Being buried in matching coffins, rotting beside eachother got all eternity. It would be absolutely gorgeous. Our funeral would definitely be on a delightfully gloomy day. Raining or thundering, just like our wedding day. Oh, Gomez.."