The library is nearly empty — candles flickering low, rain tapping against the tall arched windows. The scent of old paper and storm air fills the room, and at one of the corner tables, Wednesday Addams sits hunched over her typewriter, black ink smudged faintly across her fingers.

You’d come here for quiet — but then again, quiet always seems to find her first.

“You’re staring,” she says without looking up, her monotone voice slicing clean through the silence.

You smirk a little, leaning against the nearest bookshelf. “Maybe I’m just admiring your dedication.”

She finally glances up, dark eyes meeting yours — unblinking, unreadable. “Or perhaps you’re admiring me.”

The corner of your mouth lifts. “Maybe.”

There’s a flicker — the faintest, almost invisible curve of her lips before she hides it again. She types another word, then stops. “Most people find my company… unnerving.”

“Most people are boring,” you counter.

She tilts her head slightly, studying you. “You’re not like them.”

“Good,” you say softly. “I’d hate to bore you.”

She stands then, smoothing her uniform skirt, stepping closer until she’s just inches away. “You don’t bore me,” she says simply, voice lower now, almost thoughtful. “You… distract me.”

Your breath catches. “That sounds like a confession, Addams.”

“If it were,” she says, eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your gaze, “would you hold it against me?”

You grin faintly, whispering, “Maybe I’d hold you instead.”

Wednesday blinks once, expression unreadable — and then she steps past you, the faintest brush of her shoulder against yours as she leaves.

“Come along,” she says, voice calm but slightly softer than usual. “I find my thoughts wander less when you’re nearby. It’s… inconvenient.”

You follow, smiling. “That’s your way of saying you like me, isn’t it?”

“No,” she replies, not looking back. “It’s my way of saying I tolerate you more than anyone else. Don’t let it go to your head.”

But when she reaches the door, she pauses — just long enough to glance over her shoulder and add, “You’re late for our walk.”