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Her fingers gently traced the jagged scars on Enid’s face, prominent scars that were mere inches away from reaching his eye. Wednesday didn’t know what she’d do if Tyler had ever taken Enid’s piercing eyes away from her.
There would be no bloodshed because there would be far too much attention-grabbing. She wouldn’t slash him either. No; only certain people were worthy of her sharp daggers.
She’d take everything from Tyler. She wanted to destroy Tyler’s life. She couldn’t care less about his crumbling father, who is barely holding himself together. Last she heard, he was busy poisoning his liver. He really let himself go after he put those muzzles on his son. That is why Wednesday doesn't want to be caught up in that mess of theirs.
Though, no matter the time that passed since the incident, Wednesday wanted nothing more than to properly punish Tyler for the atrocities he'd done. And she will, just not now. Her parents raised her correctly, after all. It’s better to let your victim believe nothing is amiss, let them bask in their pride before you strike them down, and destroy their entire livelihood in front of their very eyes.
She frowned as she caressed his cheek with her thumb. She continued to stare at the healed wound. Enid, to his credit, doesn’t flinch at her touch as many have. They claimed her hands to be too cold.
They were.
She made sure of it, but Enid never said anything. If it was because he enjoyed being a victim of her intense hold or if Enid had simply lost the notion of feeling in that certain area of his handsome face, it would be unbeknownst to her.
Enid never really spoke about it, and Wednesday learned not to ask Enid about it.
It seemed redundant too. The werewolf can be one of the most closed-off people when he really wants to be. It made experiences unique. Enid would never say anything, yes, but his expression would sometimes falter with a quirk of an eyebrow or narrowed eyes. He never seemed startled by her touch, never fighting back with the strength that Wednesday knew he had.
“-Sday?” He grabbed her wrist. Wednesday didn’t fight the hold. For a powerful werewolf, Enid always remained gentle, certainly more than her.
“Are you okay?” His brows drew together as he surveyed her.
She blinked. "You're the only one who has ever truly caught my eye."
"Uh-" he squinted.
"No one else has ever been able to do what you do. Not the sons of my Father's friends, and that includes Xavier too." Wednesday slowly lets go of him, her nails lightly scratching him.
"I'll take that as a compliment." He chuckled in that awkward way, even though it had already been two decades.
So many people have avoided even going the same way as her because of her whole demeanor, her intimidating bank account, or her family, but not him. Not Enid. Never Enid. He never held back because of her titles, he only encouraged her to better herself in every way possible. Their fights have always ended up in a tie, regardless of their inhumane ways.
It was fascinating, to say the least.
He has always been.."One of a kind." She blurted. "That's what you are."
Her eyes managed to see his adam apple flinch at her sharp words before his expression shifted into a serious one.
"When you invited me here, I thought it was to discuss something urgent." He cleared his throat. "You certainly made it seem that way in that letter of yours." He pursed his lips as he glanced at the white roses that looked to be recently planted.
Wednesday hummed, tilting her head slightly. "I know I did."
“Well?” Enid urged, with a furrowed brow. “What is it, exactly? I doubt it’s to show me your new garden.”
“And if I did, what would you do with it?” asked Wednesday, with the dazzling smile that always threw him in a loop.
Her smile never reached her eyes, not unless it was Enid who she was speaking to. There had been times when people found it disturbing, but she didn’t mind it. It just felt natural to Enid. There was no deceiving him. Enid always gave her what she wanted without prying or manipulating.
It was refreshing.
Enid’s mouth formed into a small pout. A habit he denies having. “I’d be pissed off at you for wasting my precious time, Wednesday.”
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Wednesday picks at a white rose, eyeing it with disdain. The insects have already claimed their home on it.
“My husband is dead.” She casually reveals while she inspects the garden.
She turned her attention back to a stunned Enid. “He died in his sleep,” Wednesday recalled while eyeing his face. “Nothing painful, according to his nurse.” She rolled her eyes before waving her hand in a turned way.
"He also died alone.” She blinked, looking down at her hand. “He feared dying without someone next to him. Ironic how that is what happened to him." She smirked mirthlessly.
“How long ago was this?” Enid frowned, placing his scarred hand on her shoulder gently.
She fought back a shiver.
“It’s been a month, the ceremony was just two weeks ago, so you needn't worry about going.” Wednesday subconsciously shifted closer to him.
He exhaled. “We could go to his burial site.” He offered with a grim look on his face. Going to a funeral was not so planned.
“His death matters very little to me.” Wednesday confessed with a small frown. “Asking you to be there would be a waste of your precious time.”
“Then why am I here?” Her companion asks again, seeming more agitated, and confused by the second.
“Do you remember the promise you told me decades ago?” Wednesday took hold of Enid’s gentle hands. “You told me you’d always be mine. Once everything settled down and all our troubles were gone, you’d be by my side.” She recalled his exact words.
“I-” Enid choked, his calm composure now panicked. “I was 18. A plain fool, in your own words, too." He tried to save face.
She sent him an unamused look.
"I… I didn’t think you’d remember that?” He slowly walked up to her.
“Of course I would, I told you I’d wait for you.” She huffed at him. He is still a fool.
Enid stopped and took a step back with widened eyes. “Your husband just died. You're in shock or adrenaline. I don’t think this is what you want.” he now spewed off whatever excuse he found on his mind, further denying the truth.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not in shock, and you’re not one to decide what I want.” She crossed her arms.
Her husband was useless, an accessory. He sat next to her to look pretty. He even knew their marriage wasn’t one of love, it was made of politics and to boost public morale. He was dead now. She didn’t see why it mattered to Enid so much.
She scoffs. “Enid, if you fear disrespecting him, or his image, then don’t. You knew he had multiple mistresses." Enid rolled her eyes at that. He almost ate his head when he found out that last bit.
"If you want to give someone pity, give it to them.” She added quietly.
“I'm sorry, Let me get this straight.” The blond man pinched the bridge of his nose before putting his hands on his hips. “You sent me a letter, writing with urgency and making it seem like your whole family was about to fall, but all you wanted to do is remind me of a promise I made twenty years ago?”
“Yes.” Wednesday nods. “I want to see when you’ll accomplish your promise because you promised.”
"With your pinky, too," she recalled.
He crossed his fit arms. “Do you want me to?” he asked her with a serious tone.
Wednesday could see the desperation that clouded his mind because it clouded hers too.
“I wouldn’t have sent you that letter if I hadn't.”
Enid stared at her, her face not giving away anything. The act only lasted about ten seconds before he cursed under his breath. “You want to do this, really?”
“Someone is clearly excited,” Wednesday notes.
“You!-" He gulped. "You just keep teasing me, Wednesday!” He snarled before faltering. “I’ve made my life in San Francisco, I can’t just drop everything to be with you.” He spoke quietly. "You moved on from me, I had to do the same.”
They could both hear his pain.
“We couldn’t be together back then. Why can’t we start now?”
"Because you have two children and I have one." He reminded her with a tense look on his face. "What would they say about this?" He whispered as he felt himself lean closer to her.
Her hands find themselves entangled with his. "My kids wouldn't care." He knows they weren't exactly fond of their Father; what with his habit of meeting the arms of another woman.
"Well, yeah there's that-"
"And you were always there for them too. You taught them skills that their Father wouldn't teach them because of how busy he'd get." She reminded him of his work and he looked away from her, deep in thought.
"You stepped in." She grabbed him by his chin, making him face her.
"But my daughter.." He mumbled as he planted his hand on top of hers, nuzzling it with his eyes closed.
"Is merely a babe with an absent mother. She doesn't even want what you created." She scowled as she remembered how uncouth that woman was when she dropped off their child in his lap.
"She could be ours." Wednesday whispered into his ear.
Maybe it was those words that snapped him back into reality.
“This is crazy.” Enid looked deep into her eyes searching for something amiss, something that could potentially ruin everything, but he wouldn’t find anything.
“We've dealt with crazy in the past.” Wednesday tilted her head.
“And you’re sure of this?” He asked again, as if Wednesday would suddenly change her mind. He hoped not. His heart could not take it.
“This is starting to get repetitive but absolutely.” Enid could not believe she rolled her eyes when they were having a serious discussion.
She stared at him, her eyes sharp and attentive. "What say you, Enid?"
He bit his bottom lip, silence completely befalling their surroundings. He does want this. He needs it. If he does not get this, then he wouldn't know what to do with his life.
So, the answer is a clear one.
"Yes."