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Wednesday’s shoulder was killing her. The pain alone wasn’t bothering her as much as it would most others – though it was excruciating – but the placement of the injury was just so inconvenient. She hated it, hated the way it impacted her entire life and stopped even the smallest of movements. She just wanted to do everything she usually did without blacking out or ripping out her stitches.
She had only been back in the dorm for around half an hour and she was already getting frustrated. She hadn’t even tried writing yet but already found herself greatly impacted. Showering – sadly, she had to use much hotter water than the nearly freezing she preferred to get the dried blood out of her hair – had been surprisingly easy once she stopped using her left arm and figured out how to keep the water and soap away from the still bleeding wound but everything after that took far longer than it should have and left Wednesday frustrated and tired and just wishing for her shoulder to heal already so she could go on with her life.
The worst revelation came soon after the twenty-minute-fight just to put on some clean clothes. It hurt, but after a few long moments she felt mostly fine again, at least well enough to move. She debated finishing up in the bathroom but decided against it since she now needed a lot more time and space for nearly everything she did. Besides, it was only Enid and Thing who would see her with her hair down and, unlike everyone else at this school, she trusted them. So, she slowly walked back into their room.
Enid was already ready for bed and sitting at her desk, using a small mirror to inspect the bandages that covered almost half of her face. She looked sad but maybe she was just tired. Wednesday certainly was. But she couldn’t sleep yet, not until her hair was back in its braids. It had already been out for far too long and she was starting to get uncomfortable.
That discomfort switched to a burning pain as soon as she lifted her arms to start braiding, long before her hands even reached her unfortunately unbraided hair. The pain was unimaginable, until it faded into a strange fuzzy sensation. Then, everything went dark.
When she woke up much later, she was placed comfortably on her bed and a colourful blob swam through her blurry vision. She could feel her pulse in her shoulder but at least the area around it seemed dry so the stitches most likely hadn’t torn. That was good, she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to fix them herself. What wasn’t good was the acidic bile covering her tongue. Had she actually vomited? Her face felt clean enough but that didn’t have to mean anything.
She should have enjoyed all of this. She didn’t. Couldn’t. It was embarrassing. And it hurt. Enough to bring tears to her eyes and blur her sight even more. As if she hadn’t humiliated herself enough already by fainting. Maybe there had been poison on that arrow and that was why she reacted so strongly to it. Of course, she would have noticed that and she was immune to most toxins anyway, but it was a more comforting thought than the cruel truth: She had fainted because she was seriously injured and exhausted and desperately needed to rest.
Despite all of this, Wednesday considered trying to braid her hair again but quickly dismissed that idea when a stinging pain shot out from her shoulder and across her body after just moving her arm slightly. It was pathetic and it hurt enough that she decided not to try again, not even for something as important as getting her hair back to how it was supposed to be. Few things would be worth this kind of torture and this wouldn’t work even if she was willing to risk it.
She still needed to braid her hair, though, she wouldn’t be able to do anything otherwise. Unbraided hair would probably keep her awake more than the pain in her shoulder and abdomen and the head wound that still hadn’t fully healed. She could deal with the pain and the blood loss and nausea but the loose hair brushing against her back would be driving her crazy soon, and not in the good way.
Maybe she could figure out a way to braid her hair with only one hand, something she hadn’t been able to do so far. She would have simply told Thing to do it but he was nowhere to be found and she was too tired to search the school for him. He would have to face the consequences when he came crawling back but, until then, Wednesday needed to find another way to fix her hair.
There was one way to solve this but Wednesday really didn’t like it, not even after everything that had happened. Especially not after everything that had happened. She had already been far too lenient when she had hugged Enid, asking her for help would be the final nail in the coffin. It would mean letting go of what little control she still had. But it would also mean that her hair would stop bothering her so much. It took a few more minutes of Wednesday just sitting on her bed and thinking before she finally gave in.
“Can you help me?”
Her voice sounded strange after such a long silence. It broke the muted air in the room effortlessly despite being quiet, more a whisper than anything else. Wednesday had to fight to get even that much out and flinched a little when she heard how scratchy her voice was. Then, she flinched even more because the movement had sent a fresh wave of pain through her. She could barely hold back a pained whimper and more dark spots danced across her eyes, making her feel slightly dizzy.
At first, it was so bad that she couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain, including Enid, who had turned around in her chair when she heard Wednesday’s voice. By the time she regained control over her senses, Enid was looking at her, concern clearly written all over the uncovered half of her face. At least she didn’t try to get closer yet but when she answered Wednesday’s question, her voice quivered ever so slightly.
“Sure! What’s up?”
She was clearly trying to stay positive but Wednesday saw straight through her, even with the mostly obscured face and the relatively dark room. If it had been anybody else, she might have made a cruel comment but Enid didn’t deserve being treated like that. So Wednesday held her tongue and simply stared back, gathering her courage and trying to get her mouth to say the words she shuddered to even think.
Somehow, Enid somehow managed to patiently wait for Wednesday’s answer, not pressuring her in any way but also clearly interested in whatever was going on. Wednesday appreciated that, people didn’t usually look at her like that, like they actually cared while also giving her space to process things on her own time. It would have been nice if she hadn’t been in so much pain.
It made Wednesday want to ask her just a little bit more. It also somehow lessened her pain so she could think more clearly than she had since she had returned to their room. Even then, though, it took another moment or three for her mind and body to finally form the request she had been trying to find a way around asking. Once she started talking, it was slightly easier than she had expected and it barely even hurt to force the words out once she was done with them.
“I can’t lift my arm. Could you braid my hair for me?”
Wednesday had just enough time to brace herself before Enid’s excited scream – maybe it wasn’t really a scream but it got closer than it should have so late at night – echoed through their room, quickly followed by a yelp when she accidentally moved the still healing skin on the left side of her face. Wednesday twitched in sympathy but otherwise stayed still while Enid got up and skipped across the room and toward her, talking the entire way there.
“Really? I mean, are you sure you want to trust me with your hair? I know how much it matters to you and I’m kind of shaky right now. I just don’t want to hurt you more than you already are. But of course I’ll help you, I just want to make sure you’re sure! Does that make sense?”
It was truly fascinating and even sort of impressive how much and how fast she could talk while only using half of her face and Wednesday found herself staring, unable to look away until long after Enid caught her looking at her and had the audacity to wink at her. At least she had already lost enough blood that she didn’t blush at that. That was probably a good thing, right?
She felt nauseous again but it wasn’t as bad as when she had tried to move her left arm. The world was only slightly blurry but everything was still spinning and Wednesday had to breathe through her teeth until she could move without wanting to vomit again. A few deep breaths followed until she finally felt up to talking again, squeezing the words out past the lump blocking her throat almost completely.
“Please don’t make me repeat it.”
Luckily, Enid didn’t. She did, however, smile knowingly, a mischievous spark in her uncovered eye that worried Wednesday more than slightly. In any other situation, she would have appreciated and even encouraged it, but not when it was targeted at her. But if Wednesday ever trusted anyone, it was Enid, so she didn’t move away when Enid got even closer.
Enid was talking again, quieter this time, while she pulled a hairbrush seemingly out of nowhere and moved to sit behind Wednesday. She made sure to move slowly and to always give Wednesday enough time to pull away if she wanted or needed to. It should have felt patronising but instead, she appreciated it more than she would have thought possible. She even found herself leaning closer to Enid, anticipating her touch.
Wednesday didn’t have to wait much longer for the brush to make contact with her hair, gently smoothing it out even more than it already was. She had managed to brush it in the bathroom after her shower but it felt nice to have Enid repeat the process so she didn’t say anything and just enjoyed the feeling of gentle touches and Enid’s comforting presence behind her. After a few strokes, she let her eyes fall closed and gave into the sensation completely.
Enid was still talking, her voice quiet and melodic, but Wednesday wasn’t processing anything she said. She did, however, relish in the way Enid’s voice washed over and through her like she would with a particularly moving piece of music. That, combined with the way the brush ran through her hair, somehow grounded her while making her feel floaty and far-off at the same time. It was a surprisingly nice sensation.
Enid kept on brushing Wednesday’s hair for much longer than would have been necessary. After a small eternity, she replaced the brush with her fingers and Wednesday nearly let out a small and extremely pathetic sound at the new sensation. It was a completely unnecessary step but it felt great and Enid was still talking about some movie she wanted to watch so Wednesday stayed silent and let herself melt further into the touch.
They kept going like that for more than a few minutes, not noticing how the time passed and revelling in the quiet comfort that being so close brought. Wednesday’s already closed eyes grew heavier with each pass of Enid’s fingers through her hair but she fought the exhaustion and tranquillity. This might be the only time she got to experience this and she didn’t want to miss a single moment, no matter how tired she was.
Besides, she couldn’t just fall asleep sitting up and with her hair still unbraided. Her routine was already messed up enough, she wouldn’t stray even further from it just because her body begged her to fall asleep and no matter how soothing Enid’s presence was. She also wouldn’t ask Enid to speed up the process because, quite frankly, she didn’t want her to ever stop. She wanted this to go on forever so why would she do anything to make it end earlier than it otherwise would.
When, at least half an hour later, Enid finally removed her hands from Wednesday’s hair, smoothing it down one last time, Wednesday nearly asked her to just keep going for a few more minutes. Before she could let that request escape, Enid’s fingers returned, separating her hair into equal strands and finally starting to braid. She made sure not to pull too hard but she also kept enough pressure in her hands that the hair wouldn’t slip from them and the braids wouldn’t turn out too loose.
When Enid was nearly halfway done with the first braid, still talking quietly the entire time, Wednesday interrupted her, asking her to braid tighter because she missed the slight pulling against her scalp that almost never failed to calm and ground her. Enid adjusted immediately, unravelling what she had already braided and starting over without complaints.
She worked slowly but without breaks, she didn’t even stop when she asked Wednesday if the tension was right now, which happened multiple times and was often sprinkled in between entirely unrelated sentences. After the third time, Wednesday almost told her to stop asking but couldn’t get the words to leave her mouth. Instead, she just nodded once and waited for Enid to continue. After a few more minutes, she even joined Enid’s rambling, turning it into an actual conversation.
All in all, it took almost an hour just to put Wednesday’s hair back into its usual braids because both girls kept stalling and trying to draw the process out as much as possible even while fighting to stay awake. Wednesday might even have nodded off a few times but decided she couldn’t really be blamed for that, not after everything that had happened and not when she finally felt calm and safe for the first time in weeks.
Even when Enid was done braiding, she didn’t move away from Wednesday. At first, she smoothed down the already impeccable braids, then she moved her hands to her shoulders, drawing small circles on them instead. This time, Wednesday didn’t even try to stop herself from leaning into the touch until most of her weight rested against Enid.
Enid almost froze for a moment but she adjusted to the change quickly, moving her hands first down Wednesday’s back and then around to her stomach, resting them right on top of her scabbed-over stab wound and essentially hugging her from behind. Their position on the bed was a bit awkward but Enid refused to even think about moving, not when Wednesday leaned even further into her and placed her much colder hands on top of Enid’s warm ones like she was scared she would let go otherwise.
“Thank you.”
Neither of them made any move to get up. Enid even leaned a bit more against Wednesday, holding her as close as she could without hurting her. Wednesday enjoyed it way more than she should have but she was too tired to keep hiding how she really felt. It already took everything she had not to turn around and press her lips against Enid’s. But the time for that wasn’t right, at least not yet.
“Of course, anytime you need it. Is there anything else I can do to help?”
Enid suddenly didn’t sound as tired anymore and, after hesitating for a lingering moment, even let go of Wednesday and got up from the bed. Wednesday immediately missed the warmth and safety of her embrace and, if the look on Enid’s face was anything to go by, she did, too. Despite this, she made it halfway across the room before Wednesday could form a reply, surely sounding more pathetic than ever.
“Can you stay here with me? Just for tonight?”
It made Enid freeze where she was standing, one foot still in the air from the next step she was about to take. After what felt like it must have been at least a few lifetimes but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, she slowly turned around and looked at Wednesday, wide-eyed and incredulous and with a face redder than she had ever seen it before. It didn’t look as ridiculous as she would have thought. Instead, it was cute, a word Wednesday hadn’t thought she would ever use.
Enid moved as if in a trance but she got closer to Wednesday with every step she took and with each step, her smile grew and her eyes cleared up. By the time she reached Wednesday, she looked normal again, even if she was still blushing furiously. Wednesday was sure that she was, too, but Enid was smiling at her, a dreamy expression on her face, so it didn’t really matter.
“Sure, just let me turn off the lights, I’ll be right back.”
Enid sounded cheerful but when she leaned in, Wednesday could spot some uncertainty in her uncovered eye. But she didn’t stop, which was good because she leaned closer until her lips gently pressed against Wednesday’s forehead. It felt far better than she would ever have guessed, even if it was just a simple touch of lips on skin.
It should have disgusted Wednesday the way physical contact usually did, it should have made her want to peel off her skin until she couldn’t feel anything at all. Or there shouldn’t have been anything special about it, it shouldn’t have given her a rush akin to that of being electrocuted for the first time or typing ‘THE END’ in her first ever manuscript. But it did. It felt even better than all of those sensations combined. It felt like her entire life had lead to this and like, suddenly and through one simple touch, it all became worth it and insignificant at the same time.
Wednesday found herself distantly wondering what a real kiss from Enid would feel like if even an innocent peck like this already set her nerves on fire. She hoped she would find out, just maybe not yet. She was pretty sure she would pass out again, completely overwhelmed, if Enid kissed her right then. But soon, maybe even on the next day, after they had both gotten some rest and talked about everything.
These thoughts – daydreams, really – captivated Wednesday so much that she didn’t notice Enid returning to her bed until she was standing right next to it and looking down at her in the now mostly dark room, a smile still on her face. Wednesday just watched with wide eyes and a racing heart as Enid sat down next to her again. For a moment, they did nothing but stare at each other, then Enid took Wednesday’s hand and moved both of them until they were lying comfortably next to each other.
They started out next to each other with only their hands connected but then Wednesday turned onto her side, her back to Enid, and pulled her close until she was once again being held safe and warm in Enid’s arm. She didn’t usually sleep on her side but this time, she fell asleep almost as soon as she could feel Enid against her back and slept deeper and better than she ever had.