Disclaimer: The characters and anything else that may be part of the characters and scenery and other ideas that belong to Chas Addams or Paramount do not belong to me. The plot and anything you don't recognize is mine.

"Tishy, can I come in?" Ophelia knocked, her voice drifted through the door and only served to annoy Morticia. She sat on her bed, refusing to pick up her sketchbook, knowing he would be the only thing she could think of to draw. She hadn't slept since she came back and she hadn't left her room for anything except to go to the restroom. She had been listening to her music in her headphones since she returned and the only reason she heard Ophelia was because she had just gotten back from one of said trips to the restroom and hadn't gotten around to putting them back on yet.

"You're going to whether I want you to or not."

Ophelia tenderly opened the door and came in, closing it softly behind her. "Why is it so dark in here? Why don't you open the shades?" her sister went over to the window and was about to pull the curtains back.

"Don't!" Morticia snapped, "I like it dark. The sun hurts my eyes."

Ophelia stopped and took in her sister. She looked even paler than usual; her ebony curls seemed to have lost their luster and her eyes were dull, almost hollow. She looked genuinely ill.

"What's the matter with you, Tishy?" she asked, a hint of true concern in her tone.

"Nothing is the matter with me, Ophelia, I'm tired," Morticia replied, irritated.

"Oh . . . kay," Ophelia replied, sounding a little hurt by her sister's harsh reply. But for once she didn't go running to Mommy and Daddy or return the snide remark. She started to make her way out, but stopped at the door, only turning halfway. "I just wanted to tell you that Mother finally won the battle. I am to be married to Gomez Addams in six months' time." She gently closed the door behind her, not looking back at her sister.

Tears sprang to Morticia's eyes and she wished she had never met Gomez. Had never snuck out two nights ago and met him by chance in the cemetery. She hadn't realized that he was the boy her mother had chosen for Ophelia and that he was the boy she had been arguing with her father about for the last several weeks. Morticia was angry at the aching in her chest, she shouldn't care that her sister was marrying a random boy she had met one night in the cemetery. She shouldn't care at all, but she did. No matter how much she tried to deny it, in the end she had to admit to herself that she did care. She cared a lot. She cared enough to risk breaking her heart by going to see him again that night. The idea was like a maggot, lodging itself in her brain and refusing to go elsewhere. It was a leech that attached itself to everything she did for the remainder of the day and sucked the life out of everything she loved. And the part that bothered her most was that she wanted to see him. She wanted to feel him under her fingers and run her hands through his ridiculous hair. She wanted to kiss those ridiculous lips that were topped by that ridiculous mustache. She wanted to smell that ridiculous scent that was uniquely his own and she wanted to hear that ridiculous voice that made her heart beat faster and her blood run hotter. And she hated him for it. She hated that he had this amount of control over her. She hated it with every fiber of her being and yet she couldn't help but long for it. Long for him. She had to see him.