The more Enid touched her, the more she realized that Wednesday was built for passion, for fire, for intensity. Her touches ignited her like a spark to a flame, and Enid watched as the usually stoic girl lost herself in pleasure, her moans becoming more desperate, her nails digging into Enid's skin with every passing second.
Soon enough their clothes found their way onto the wooden floors, Wednesday wanted more. Her own hand pushing the werewolf's lower, in hopes of the last push she needed before coming undone. She gasped as gentle fingers entered her, her body arching into the touch.
"Oh, fuck," Wednesday breathed, her resistance now a distant memory. "Enid, please..."
Enid's fingers began to move in and out, building a rhythm that matched the pounding of their hearts. As she curled her fingers she quickly found Wednesday's sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
Brown eyes rolled back as her orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing in pleasure. Enid held her through the storm, kissing her passionately as she rode out the waves of ecstasy. When it was over, Willa slumped against the now messy sheets, her legs weak, her breath ragged.
As the weight of the moment settled, Wednesday's chest tightened. The reality of what had just happened rushed over her, leaving her cold and painfully aware of her exposed form. She moved quickly, picking up her torn clothes from the floor and tossing them into the dirty basket before slipping into her pajamas with sharp, deliberate movements. Each motion felt calculated, precise, as if she could somehow regain control of the situation by controlling her actions.
Standing stiff and composed, Wednesday spoke, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "we should go to sleep... this was nothing to be analyzed or sentimentalized."
Her words were as cold and clinical as she could manage, forcing herself to distance from the storm of emotions she refused to acknowledge. She wasn't going to let this moment have power over her. She wouldn't let Enid see any hint of vulnerability.
The silence that followed was suffocating. She could feel Enid's gaze on her, searching for something more, but Wednesday refused to meet her eyes. She crossed her arms, staring blankly at the far wall, shutting herself off completely.
Behind her, Enid shifted, the weight of Wednesday's words hitting her like a punch to the gut. Her chest felt tight, a mix of confusion, hurt, and anxiety swirling inside her. Everything could fall apart in a second. Her heart raced, her mind clouded with fear that this fragile moment might shatter if she moved wrong or said the wrong thing.
Slowly, Enid stood, the sound of her movements almost painfully loud in the quiet room. She glanced at Wednesday, hoping for even the smallest crack in her icy demeanor, but saw nothing. When Wednesday's eyes darted away, Enid felt the last bit of hope fade.
Her body moved on autopilot as she grabbed the pink fluffy blanket from the floor and wrapped it around herself, the comfort of the familiar fabric barely enough to soothe the ache in her chest. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the overwhelming emotions that threatened to spill out.
"Yeah," Enid whispered, her voice trembling despite her best effort to stay composed. "Just... something that happened."
Wednesday didn't respond. She remained stone-faced, her back to Enid, as if standing perfectly still would make everything go away.
The anxiety gnawed at Enid's insides as she numbly pulled out a pair of pajamas from her drawer. Changing quickly, she barely registered her own movements. Her heart still pounded, and her mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each one more painful than the last. Was this it? Was everything going to be different now? And obviously not for the better?
She crawled into her bed, surrounded by the soft, colorful bedding that usually brought her comfort. Now, it felt like nothing could reach her. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she hugged one of her stuffed animals tightly, hoping it would help calm the storm inside her. But sleep didn't come easily. The room felt too quiet, too cold, and her thoughts kept replaying the last few hours, unsure of where things stood between them.
Wednesday, still rigid and unmoving, finally forced herself to walk over to her bed. She lay down, her body stiff as she pulled the dark covers over herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, as though she could block out everything—the emotions, the uncertainty, the confusion. She willed her mind to empty, to focus on anything but the knot tightening in her chest.
But the silence was heavy, and no matter how hard she tried to retreat into her usual armor of coldness, the reality of what had happened lingered. She had pushed Enid away, downplayed the moment, but the effects remained, rattling in her head.
Across the room, Enid clutched her stuffed animal, fighting back tears, trying to focus on the softness of the fabric rather than the ache in her heart. Both girls, now in their own beds, lay in silence, staring into the darkness, their minds restless and full of unspoken thoughts.