Hey, y'all, important context I forgot to put in the first chapter because I'm an idiot – I've aged them up. So for the sake of the story, we're all gonna pretend it's their senior year at Nevermore, and they were all two years older during the events of the first season (making them all 18) because this story becomes M rated as of the next chapter and I will not write spicy stuff involving minors.

I'm also gonna be totally real with you guys, this chapter is 3,500 words and I did not have the emotional energy to edit it, so I do apologise in advance for the 542 typos that are probably in here.

Chapter Four

12.37 am

Wednesday stared at the neon red numbers on her bedside clock until her eyes fell out of focus, and they became nothing but a smear of light in front of her. She rolled onto her back and huffed, readjusting her black bedspread around herself. Since climbing under her sheets at midnight on the dot, all she'd managed to achieve was gnawing anxiety in her stomach and growing frustration at her inability to fall asleep.

12.38 am

Suddenly deciding she was too hot, Wednesday threw back her duvet and dragged herself out of bed. She tugged her sweatshirt over her head, cursing under her breath when it became twisted in her braids, and discarded it on the floor. Left in just her pyjama pants and tank top, Wednesday curled back up on her mattress and screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall asleep.

She didn't.

The next time she checked the clock, it was 12.44 am, at which point she became convinced it was actually mocking her, and half debated throwing it off the balcony.

There was a tap at the top of her forehead, right on her hairline. She looked up through her bangs, almost going cross-eyed, to see Thing obnoxiously flicking her in the face.

''Can I help you?'' She snarled.

Thing's fingers moved in quick succession, and it took Wednesday's eyes a moment to adjust in the dim light before she realised, he was fingerspelling. Thing's primary form of communication was morse code, but in a case when consistent tapping would cause too much of a disturbance – such as when there was a sleeping roommate fifteen feet away – he opted to communicate in ASL instead. She missed the first couple of letters, but based on the remainder and the questioning gesture at the end, she worked it out.

N-E-R-V-O-U-S-?

''Don't be stupid.'' She hissed, rolling over in bed so that he wasn't upside down to her. ''I'm just not tired.''

S-U-R-E

''Shut up, Thing.'' Wednesday buried her head in her pillow, a clear sign that the conversation was over. It wasn't long, however, before she turned back over to look at the clock again.

12. 49 am

Wednesday groaned, louder than she'd intended to. On the other side of the room, Enid stirred but didn't wake.

The clock was just shy of 1 am when Wednesday officially threw in the towel. She got back out of bed and dropped herself at her desk, switching on the table lamp and adjusting the brightness so that it was just light enough for her to see. If she wasn't going to spend the night sleeping, she may as well spend it writing.

''Wednesday!''

Wednesday startled awake, scraping her desk chair across the floorboards. She blinked in the morning sunlight, disorientated, and became vaguely aware of a strange texture on the side of her face. Running her fingers over the bumps, she realised she had the indention of numerous typewriter keys imprinted on her cheeks. In front of her, the remainder of the page she'd been working on was filled with nonsense. At some point in the night, she'd fallen asleep on her typewriter, and mashed the keyboard with her face.

''What time is it?'' Wednesday murmured, pulling the ruined page from the top of the typewriter. She tore off the top section that contained her actual writing and placed it carefully on her desk to be replicated on a new page, and then screwed the remainder up and tossed it in the waste basket.

''6 am,'' Enid said, with her hands on her hips.

''What?'' Wednesday cried, standing up. ''Then let me go back to sleep! Why would you wake me at 6 am on a Saturday?''

''Maybe because you were asleep at your typewriter?'' Enid said as Wednesday climbed onto the edge of her bed. She pulled the covers over her head and crawled towards her pillow, and dropped her heavy, aching body down face first.

''And?'' Wednesday mumbled. Her words disappeared into the silk of her pillowcase. ''I'm a writer. Sometimes we fall asleep at our workstations.''

Wednesday could hear the unmistakable tapping of Thing's fingers against the wooden floor, spelling out a phrase in morse code. Enid was currently working on learning the ASL alphabet, and Wednesday dreaded the day they could talk behind her back without her overhearing.

Has date 2 day, Wednesday heard Thing tap out. With X

''Thing!'' Wednesday shrieked, throwing the blankets back.

''Omg!'' Enid squealed, jumping up and down. She bounded onto Wednesday's bed, causing the whole mattress to vibrate. Wednesday reached out to the bedpost for support, shooting both Enid and the hand that lingered in the distance behind her a menacing glare. ''Omg, are you nervous?''

''No.'' Wednesday said. At the same time, Thing tapped out yes. Wednesday threw her pillow across the room, watching as Thing scurried to narrowly avoid it. ''Do you want to spend the rest of the day in the drawer?''

''You know I heard you last night.'' Enid continued, looking like she was about five seconds away from combusting. ''Getting up and down, tossing and turning, talking to Thing. I knew something was up, I just knew it.''

''Congratulations. I'll inform the FBI immediately and ask if they have any positions going. Now get off my bed and let me go back to sleep.''

''Okay, okay.'' Enid held her hands up in defeat, but she was still beaming from ear to ear. ''I'm just saying, if you want to talk about anything, I'm here.''

Wednesday shut her eyes gently, trying to tune out the vague whispering and shallow tapping she could hear on the other side of the room. After a moment, she opened them again, and as though they could sense her, both of her gossiping roommates fell silent.

''Enid…'' Wednesday said softly. She swallowed and took a deep breath in. ''Would you… can you help me get ready?''

Enid's face glowed bright enough to light the entire room.

''Of course, of course.'' She said, and Wednesday could see that she was trying her hardest to keep herself contained. It almost made Wednesday smile. ''Now, close your eyes. You need your beauty rest.''

''And this is what I'm thinking we do for your hair!''

Enid shoved her phone back into Wednesday's face, showing her yet another photo she'd found on some application called Pinterest, which seemed to just be a collection of unattainable beauty standards and ugly matching outfits.

Most of the photos Enid had shown Wednesday she'd knocked back immediately. She wasn't wearing heels, she didn't want a glitter manicure, and what part of ''allergic to colour'' were Enid and all her red lipstick looks not understand?

This one, however, grabbed Wednesday's attention. She took the phone from her roommate so she could see it better, and Enid watched her with a hopeful glint in her eye.

''You like it?''

''Yes,'' Wednesday admitted, pursing her lips together.

Displayed in front of her was a picture of what looked like a bride, with her hair twisted in a braided bun on top of her head. It was elegant but edgy, sophisticated without being overly feminine, and still perfectly practical. Wednesday had to admit, she liked it a lot.

''I don't know how to do that, though.'' Wednesday sighed, handing back the phone. ''I'll just leave my hair the way it is.''

''Don't be silly, I can do it for you!'' Enid said, tossing her phone back towards her bed. ''That's what I'm here for.''

Wednesday instinctively backed up a little and clenched her jaw. She dropped her gaze to the floor and crossed her arms over her body.

''What?'' Enid asked, her face falling. ''What's wrong?''

''No one's ever seen me with my hair down,'' Wednesday whispered. ''Aside from the family, and even they're few and far between.''

''Oh,'' Enid said, with a solemn nod. ''Well, I mean, we don't have to, but-''

''I want to,'' Wednesday said, with a deep breath in. She dragged her desk chair to the centre of the room and fetched her brush and fine-toothed comb from Enid. ''Do it.''

''Tell me if you want to stop, okay,'' Enid said, giving Wednesday's shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

Wednesday nodded, and Enid began to carefully slip the bands from her hair. Slowly, cautiously, she loosened the braids with her fingers and pierced them with the edge of the comb, separating the hair and creating a cascade of black that waterfalled over Wednesday's shoulders.

''Wow…'' Enid uttered under her breath. ''Wednesday, your hair is… you're really beautiful.''

Wednesday's knee-jerk reaction was to say something snarky about how beauty is a social construct largely defined by the patriarchy, but she swallowed it back down.

''Thank you, Enid.''

Enid made quick work of hair, and just thirty minutes later, Wednesday's hair was twisted and styled on the top of her head, in a perfect replica of the Pinterest bride. She turned her head this way and that, admiring her roommate's work for all angels.

''Thank you,'' Wednesday said as Enid fastened a final bobby pin onto the side of her skull.

''You are most welcome. All right, make-up time.''

''Enid- ''

''No colour, I got it!'' Enid held up her hands defensively. ''We don't need you breaking out in hives right before your hot date.''

Enid spent the next few minutes poking, prodding and pulling at Wednesday's face, with a variety of tools that looked more like torture devices than beauty products. Wednesday fussed and scowled like a temperamental child, but deep down, she was grateful she had roommates' help. She didn't even know what an eyelash curler was before Enid pulled the vicious-looking claw from her cosmetics bag.

''Okay, your face is done,'' Enid announced triumphantly, packing the instruments of cruelty back into their bag. ''And I have the perfect outfit for you. Go and pick out your sexiest bra.''

''I beg your pardon?''

''Just trust me.'' Enid laughed, patting Wednesday on the knees. ''I haven't let you down yet, have I?''

Wednesday rolled her eyes, reluctant to admit her best friend had a point.

''Thing, look away.'' Wednesday huffed, stomping over to her chest of drawers. Thing scuttled to the corner of the room and obediently faced the wall.

Wednesday dropped to her knees and pulled open her bottom drawer, which contained all of her bras and stockings. She rummaged through them, trying to decide what constituted ''sexy''. She had several plain black bras, made of different materials and varying degrees of push-ups. She had one black-and-white leopard print bra, one black floral bra with a beige undertone, and one token white bra for the rare occasion she wore lighter shades. By the time Enid had come over with an outfit draped over her arm like a designer, Wednesday was feeling more than just a little overwhelmed.

''Here,'' Enid said, springing into action. She reached over Wednesday and selected one of her more basic black bras, but with a considerable amount of extra padding. ''This one's perfect.''

Wednesday didn't question it and simply shut the drawer. She pulled her tank top over her head and clipped the bra on, then shimmied out of her sleep pants. Enid held up two items of clothing proudly, and Wednesday raised a questioning eyebrow.

''Just put them on.'' Enid urged, pushing them closer to her. ''Have a little faith.''

Wednesday yanked the outfit on, somewhat uncertainly. However, the second she turned to face Enid's full-length mirror, any doubt she'd had disappeared into thin air.

Enid had chosen a long sleeve sheer black top that displayed the bra underneath, and a pair of sleek black jeans that hugged her hips. She'd done a darker, slightly more intense version of Wednesday's typical makeup – slick winged eyeliner, glossy black lips, elegant long lashes. Paired with the braided hairstyle, Wednesday felt sexy, but not unrecognisable. She was comfortable, unrestricted and in her own style, while still being dressed up for the occasion.

''Thank you, Enid,'' Wednesday said, giving a small nod. ''I… it's… thank you.''

She didn't know how to truly put her appreciation into words, to express just how well Enid had done, but she knew she didn't have to. Meeting her best friend's gaze in the mirror, she could see that she knew.

''Okay, go, go!'' Enid clapped her hands. ''You don't want to be late!''

Wednesday slipped her feet into a pair of combat boots and laced them. Thing bounced towards her, stopping just before the door, and twisting his wrist to give a questioning gesture.

''Absolutely not.'' Wednesday scowled. ''You stay here.''

Thing slunk down, instantly sulking.

''Don't worry, Thing,'' Enid said, opening her palms for him to climb into. ''We can stay here and have a manicure night. And I'm sure Wednesday will give us all the juicy details when she comes back.''

''Wow… Wednesday, you look…''

Wednesday tried not to scowl as she approached Xavier waiting patiently at his car, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Wednesday was genuinely not a fan of being called beautiful, and she only had the patience to suck it up and take the compliment once a day.

''You look… incredible.'' Xavier said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Wednesday blinked, pleasantly surprised.

''Thank you.'' She nodded, looking Xavier up and down. He was in a buttoned-up white shirt and a pair of denim jeans, with his hair in that half-up half-down style Wednesday privately considered to be her favourite. ''You look… very adequate.''

''Thanks.'' Xavier chuckled.

He hit the fob on his car keys, and his white Volvo lit up. He walked Wednesday around to the passenger side and opened her door for her, then threw himself into the driver's seat.

''When did you get your driver's license?'' Wednesday asked once they'd pulled out of the school's parking lot and started down the main road towards Jerico.

''Uh, when I was sixteen, about two years ago. Why?''

''I don't know how to drive yet. I'd like to learn.''

''I mean, I'd be happy to teach you if you'd like.'' Xavier offered. Wednesday nodded.

''I could give you some archery pointers in return,'' Wednesday said, smirking slightly. ''Maybe then you could actually hit the bullseye.''

''Ouch.'' Xavier laughed, shaking his head.

Wednesday sat with her head against the window, watching as the trees changed into the beige and crimson buildings of Jerico. Xavier kept driving, through the town's centre, to the quieter end of the district. Eventually, he turned into a parking lot and switched off the engine, and Wednesday leant forward to read the sign on the building in front of her.

''We're going paintballing?'' She said. She felt the smile creeping up on her before she could stop it.

''Competition, strategy, ruthless violence. I figured it ticked all the boxes for you.''

Wednesday undid her seatbelt and sprinted inside, leaving Xavier behind to lock the car. It wasn't until she was in the lobby, looking at the images of paint-splattered players coated in colour that a thought occurred to her, and she felt her stomach sink.

''Don't worry.'' Xavier huffed, having jogged to keep up with her. ''I called ahead of time. They've arranged guns loaded with just black and white paint for us – we don't need a repeat of the breakout in the shed.''

''Don't act like you didn't enjoy that,'' Wednesday said, mostly because she had to say something shrewd, or else she'd say something sweet, and that wasn't a route she was about to go down.

''Look, I'm not saying you taking your clothes off for me is a bad situation, I just feel like next time, we should do it without the hives and the rash, you know?''

''Bold of you to assume there'll be a next time.''

Xavier chuckled. The receptionist waved them over, and Xavier gave their names, paid the bill, and took their custom-ordered guns. He handed one to Wednesday, along with a helmet at a pair of protective goggles, both of which she strapped on with enthusiasm.

Wednesday followed Xavier throw a back door to the playing field with her finger already poised on the trigger, ready for war. They retreated to opposite sides of the ground, dressed in the coveralls and waited for the siren before all hell broke loose.

Wednesday beat Xavier by a country mile. She was faster and nimbler, and it was easier for her to duck for cover and catch him by surprise. Xavier managed to get a fair number of shots in, but by the time they'd been playing for thirty minutes, he was more than ready to admit defeat.

''I surrender!'' He held his hands up dramatically in the corner of the shelter that Wednesday had him backed into, her gun threatening raised and pointed at his chest. Wednesday tilted her head, as if weighing up the offer, and then pulled the trigger once more, sending a flying bullet of white paint splattering against Xavier's coveralls.

Xavier overdramatically clutched his chest and dropped his gun, letting in clamber to the ground. He fell to his knees, wheezing and groaning, and Wednesday rolled her eyes at the theatrics and tossed her gun to the side.

Xavier sat down against the wall of the shelter and Wednesday came over to join him, swinging her leg over his and dropping herself into his lap. He looked a little taken aback and the brazenness of the move, and if she was being honest, she was too. However, when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and let him. The closeness was new, but it was comfortable.

''Did you have fun?'' He asked. The look in his eyes was so genuine, and the tightening in Wednesday's stomach was back.

''You mean did I enjoy kicking your ass?'' Wednesday raised an eyebrow. ''Absolutely.''

Xavier laughed and then dropped his gaze to her lips. Wednesday unclipped her helmet and pulled her protective goggles off, and Xavier followed her lead. With the safety gear discarded next to them, Wednesday pulled him in and pushed her mouth onto his.

This kiss was more intense than the first one. There was more confidence and more passion. It was wetter, too, though not in a way Wednesday found particularly repulsive. The term making out popped into her head, and though she wasn't completely clear what that constituted, this felt pretty close.

''Hey!'' Wednesday and Xavier jumped apart, to see a stern-looking staff member glowering at them from the entrance of the shelter. ''Get out of here!''

''We paid for forty-five minutes!'' Xavier argued. ''As far as I'm concerned, we're just making your life easier. We pay full price, and you have less paint to restock.''

The staff member stared Xavier down, as though he was trying to intimate him. When Xavier held the challenging gaze for several seconds, the staff member sighed and rolled his eyes.

''Whatever.'' He muttered, storming off.

Xavier looked at Wednesday and laughed, and Wednesday couldn't help but smile in return. He reached for the piece of hair that had come loose from her braided bun and tucked it behind her ear, before pulling her back into him, allowing them to melt together once again.

Wednesday's sleepless night caught her on the drive back to Nevermore. She did her best to resist, trying to stay engaged in the conversation with Xavier, but it was futile. Her eyelids were heavy and her muscles were solid, and by the time they'd left the town limit and started up the hill to the school, she was sound asleep.

In a semi-conscious, mostly-out state, Wednesday was vaguely aware of the car coming to a stop. She felt her head lurch forward as her car door was opened, but only for a second before someone caught it.

Xavier's hair tickled her nose as he leaned over her and undid her seatbelt. With one arm around the small of her back and one arm underneath her knees, he lifted he from the car seat and kicked her door closed.

Wednesday's eyes fluttered between open and closed as Xavier carried her through the back door of Ophelia Hall and up the stairs towards her dorm. He used his elbow to knock on her door, and seconds later, Wednesday heard it swing open.

''How did it-''

''Shhh!'' Xavier silenced Enid's high pitch squealing.

He manoeuvred his way through the door with Wednesday in his arms. Peering through her half-closed lashes, she saw him gesture with his head to Thing, who pulled back Wednesday's bedsheets. Gently, carefully, he put her down in her bed and pulled the duvet up to her chin, ensuring she was fully tucked in before he went to walk away.

Only distantly aware of what she was doing, Wednesday reached out a hand and clamped it around his wrist.

''Thank you.'' She whispered into her pillow.

Xavier's shadow encased her as he leant down and placed a soft kiss right on her temple.

''Sleep well, Wednesday.''

So the quick updates are on account of the really great feedback you guys have been leaving, which I appreciate so much. The more you review the faster I'll update