Wednesday Doesn't Hate Touch

Wednesday doesn't hate touch

But as bianca's hand brushes against her shoulder in what Wednesday knows is supposed to be consoling, that thought is slowly becoming a lie.

Wednesday can tolerate touch. Tolerate the way it always leaves goosebumps that has her muscles tensing and she can tolerate the fact that this is simply the way the nightshades show affection.

They try, they really do try but they get caught up in the moment and sometimes yoko slings an arm over her shoulder that has Wednesday sharply inhaling through her nose before she exhales and tries to relax her shoulders.

The weight should've been comforting.

It isn't.

Ajax can come up with news all he wants, a pep in his step and a wide eyed look in his face but it takes all of her will power to not step away from such enthusiasm when he bounds in with information.

These are her companions, they've stuck through her time and time again, it's only right for her to do the same.

But sometimes, when her eyes feel heavy during training and it's too dark to distinguish the one carrying her back to the dorm, Wednesday let's herself believe for once.

She doesn't smell vanilla, not anymore but she still remembers the way those hands grasp at her back and the way Enid presses her face onto her shoulder. It's a hearty weight that presses onto her skin and it leaves her with a lovely feeling that ends way too soon.

To this day, she still wishes it left a mark.

So yes, Wednesday doesn't hate touch.

Wednesday could never hate Enid after all.