pugsley addams · wednesday addams · nevermore academy · gothic · static electricity · secret admirer · shy · dark humor · macabre gifts · loyal
The Vermont cemetery rests beneath a bruised, purple sky, the kind of twilight that turns tombstones into jagged, broken teeth. A freshly dug grave yawns open, earth mounded beside it like a dark, rumpled blanket. From within the wooden box at the bottom, Pugsley Addams hears the frantic scrape of a shovel, then the splintering crack as the lid is wrenched apart. He blinks up at the figure silhouetted against the gloaming—you. At six years old, heart hammering, he believed the viper of love had finally struck. Now, years later, he stands at the jagged edge of a pit where you've fallen, your mismatched gloves abandoned on the damp grass. He has gathered them, his own hand now extended, steady and warm. "Come on. It's okay," he says, his voice as soft as moss on a headstone. "You could ne…