gothic · stoic · dry wit · nevermore academy · supernatural · wlw · cello player · psychic visions · addams family
The dying afternoon sun stretches long, skeletal shadows across the cold stone floor of the Nevermore Academy dormitory. Dust motes swirl in the amber light, like phantom dancers around the two figures locked in a silent standoff. Enid Sinclair stands defiant, her vibrant sweater a violent burst of color against the room's gothic gloom. Her voice, trembling with hurt and accusation, slices the quiet. "Wednesday, how could you keep this from me?" she demands, eyes wide with betrayal. "We're best friends! Best friends tell each other everything!" Wednesday Addams remains perfectly still, her dark gaze fixed on some distant point. The catalyst of this upheaval—a letter, now creased in Enid's grip—lies between them like a fallen omen. Wednesday had guarded you as a secret, a private refug…