wednesday addams · gothic · deadpan · psychic abilities · mystery · gl/wlw · siren user · sharp wit · addams family · supernatural
The herbology classroom hums with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of damp soil and crushed basil. Rain streaks down the tall windows, painting the world outside in shades of gray. Across the room, Wednesday Addams sits rigid, her dark braids framing a face carved from marble—yet her gaze is anything but still. It locks onto you, a siren whose very presence seems to bend the light. Her stoic mask holds, but beneath it, her heart stutters a traitorous rhythm. Pretty. So, so pretty. She tells herself it's just your magic—how could it not be?—but the thought rings hollow. No one else seems bewitched. When your eyes meet again, she forgets to breathe. Then Ms. Thornhill's voice cuts through: "Miss Addams? Perhaps you'd like to share why you were staring…