Rest now my children

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

𝕎𝔼𝔻ℕ𝔼𝕊𝔻𝔸𝕐 stood in the dimly lit library, the silence only broken by the soft shuffling of Thing as he crawled across the shelves, tapping on the spines of books. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and ink, a comforting atmosphere for someone like Wednesday who found solace in the written word. His eyes scanned the rows of purple books, searching for the one that had haunted his thoughts since Rowan's cryptic warnings.

"I keep seeing that same purple book," he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as his fingers trailed over the covers.

Thing, ever the eager assistant, tapped on a light purple book on the top shelf, eager to help.

Wednesday glanced at it but shook his head. "The cover was darker. Like a day-old contusion. Keep looking," he ordered, his gaze narrowing as he focused on a page in his hand that bore a symbol identical to the one he'd seen on the mysterious book's cover. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of the puzzle that Rowan had left behind.

The sudden sound of footsteps descending the stairs drew Wednesday's attention. He looked up, his expression as impassive as ever, to see Ms. Thornhill approaching him with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"I don't usually find students in here looking for actual books," she remarked, her tone light as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She continued walking toward him, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Most sneak in to make out. Is Lilith not with you at the moment?" The question hung in the air, laced with playful curiosity.

Wednesday remained unfazed, his expression unchanging as he met her gaze. Ignoring the implication behind her words, he replied flatly, "I accidentally walked in on two vampires fanging. I can't unsee it." His tone was deadpan, but the subtle disgust in his voice was clear.

"Is there something I can help you find?" Ms. Thornhill asked, her tone warm as she looked at Wednesday with curiosity.

Wednesday didn't hesitate. He lifted the paper he held, revealing a drawing of a flower intertwined with a skull. The intricate symbol seemed almost alive on the page. "Have you seen this before?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "It's a watermark from a book that I'm looking for."

Ms. Thornhill's expression shifted, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the symbol. A moment of recognition passed over her face before she responded, "I think it's the symbol of an old student society... The Nightshades."

Her words hung in the air, bringing a new layer of mystery to the surface, one that Wednesday was eager to unravel.

"Like the deadly flower? Colour me intrigued."

"I was told they disbanded years ago."

"Any idea why?" Wednesday asked.

Ms. Thornhill shrugged apologetically. "Sorry," she said, offering no further help.

Wednesday sighed, disappointment evident in the subtle tightening of his jaw. He slipped the paper back into his bag, which rested on the nearby table. As he did, Ms. Thornhill broke the silence, her tone lightening. "I was very impressed with your answers in class today," she complimented, trying to shift the conversation to something more positive.

"My mother is a carnivorous plant aficionado," Wednesday replied matter-of-factly. "I assume I get my red thumb from her."

Ms. Thornhill studied him for a moment, intrigued by his stoic demeanor. "Are you and your mother close?" she asked, her voice gentle but curious.

Wednesday looked down, his dark eyes reflecting a brief moment of contemplation as he weighed how to describe the complex relationship. Finally, he answered, "Like two inmates sentenced to life on the same cell block."

The words hung between them, heavy with the implication of a bond forged more by circumstance than affection.

"I know it can't have been easy, showing up mid-semester," Ms. Thornhill confessed, her tone sincere. She glanced at Wednesday, trying to find some common ground. "I've been here a year and a half, and I still feel like an outsider."

Wednesday looked at her, his gaze sharp and observant. "Is that because you're the only normie on staff?" he asked bluntly.

Ms. Thornhill blinked, clearly taken aback by his directness. "How did you—?"

"Enid told me," Wednesday interjected, answering her unspoken question with his usual matter-of-factness. His expression remained impassive, as if her status among the other faculty was merely another puzzle piece falling into place.

"To tell you the truth, I've never fit in anywhere. Too odd for the normies, not odd about for the outcasts. I thought Nevermore would be different, but there's still a handful of teachers who will barely acknowledge me."

"...I act as if I don't care if people dislike me," Wednesday admitted, his tone devoid of emotion. "Deep down... I secretly enjoy it."

Ms. Thornhill smiled gently at him, her eyes warm with understanding. "Never lose that, Wednesday."

Wednesday looked at her, confusion flickering in his dark eyes. "Lose what?"

She stepped closer, her smile softening as she spoke. "The ability to not let others define you. It's a gift."

Wednesday stared at her, the weight of her words settling in. "Doesn't always feel that way." Ms. Thornhill's gaze remained kind, and she offered, "The most interesting plants grow in the shade. And if you ever need someone to talk to, the door to the conservatory is always open."

She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, Wednesday exhaled and spoke up. "Wait... is there a witch book around here?" Ms. Thornhill paused, then smiled knowingly. She nodded and pointed to a section where a single book stood on the shelf. With that, she left the library, leaving Wednesday to his thoughts.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
Xavier returned to his dorm after an early morning jog, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grabbed a towel from his bed. Without hesitation, he headed to the bathroom for a shower. The door clicked shut behind him, and a moment later, Wednesday and Thing emerged from their hiding spots.

"The purple book has got to be here somewhere. Start investigating," Wednesday commanded, his voice low and purposeful.

Thing scurried off, poking around the small bookshelf, while Wednesday casually flipped through Xavier's sketchbook, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency. As he turned a page, his eyes narrowed at the sight of a drawing—a woman who was unmistakably Lilith. Annoyance flashed across his face, and he shut the sketchbook with a snap, his focus shifting to Rowan's side of the room.

With a quick glance towards the closed bathroom door, Wednesday pulled out a blacklight and turned off the lights, casting the room in an eerie glow. He swept the light over the floor, his sharp gaze catching the faint traces of fingerprints leading to a loose piece of wood under the bed. Intrigued, he reached down and pried it open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside, a bird mask lay nestled, the dark feathers catching the glow of the blacklight.

"Rowan's full of surprises," Wednesday muttered to himself, placing the mask into his bag. He was about to make his exit when a sudden knock on the door made his heart skip a beat. Without a second thought, he dove under Xavier's bed, pressing himself flat against the floor.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Xavier, now dressed in fresh clothes, walked towards the door. He opened it to reveal Bianca standing there, a smile playing on her lips. Before she could speak, Xavier grabbed her shoulder and quickly pulled her inside the room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said, his voice hushed but urgent.

"Good to see you too."

Xavier's eyes narrowed as he looked at Bianca, suspicion creeping into his voice. "How'd you get past the Housemaster? Use your siren powers?"

Bianca rolled her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly touching the necklace she wore. "Not while wearing this," she replied, a hint of frustration in her tone. "Would it kill you to not think the worst of me for once?"

Xavier sighed, the annoyance clear on his face as he crossed his arms. "What do you want, Bianca?"

"To see how you were doing. I'm sorry about Rowan. I know you guys were close."

Xavier's eyes flared with anger as Bianca's words hit a nerve. "Since when did you give a damn about Rowan?" he snapped, his voice sharp and accusing. Bianca's expression hardened, her gaze unwavering. "You were the only one who was afraid he'd do something to Wednesday and Lilith. Isn't that why you've been following them around like an eager-eyed puppy? Or is there something more?" Her voice dripped with accusation, her words cutting deep.

Xavier huffed in frustration, turning away from her and moving towards his desk. But Bianca wasn't done. "What do you even see in her? You suddenly have a thing for that dark, pathetic excuse of a witch who killed her parents and sent people to asylums where she belongs?" Her tone was laced with venom, each word meant to wound.

Wednesday, hidden beneath Xavier's bed, felt his anger surge, his fists clenching as he fought the urge to reveal himself and confront Bianca. Every word she spat made his blood boil, but he knew he had to stay silent, for now.

Xavier's reaction was immediate and fierce. He spun around, his eyes blazing with fury. "Don't talk about her like that. And at least she's never tried to manipulate me with her gifts." His voice trembled with rage, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Bianca sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she tried to regain control. "I make one mistake, and you can't forgive me. She even let you down, and yet you still can't get enough," she pointed out, her voice softer now, tinged with frustration.

Xavier's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.

Bianca crossed her arms, her lips curling into a smirk as she met Xavier's gaze. "You're wasting your time, Xavier. Honestly, tragic goth guys with funeral-parlor fashion taste who think they're better than everyone else seem more her type. I do think they belong together." Her words were laced with bitterness, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her tone as if she'd hit upon some deep truth.

Wednesday, still hidden beneath the bed, perked up at the comment, his attention sharpening. Bianca's words felt like a twisted sort of validation, but they also stirred something deeper, something he wasn't ready to confront.

Bianca continued, her smirk widening as she imagined the scene. "I can't wait to crush Ophelia Hall tomorrow and watch the witch and her werewolf roommate crumble. It's going to be a Poe Cup finale to remember."

Xavier, already irritated, responded with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "Yeah, I hate to think what you've got planned."

"My game's already started. I like to win. Is that so wrong?"

"And you wonder why I broke up with you," Xavier said, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he watched Bianca approach him with a determined look. Bianca stepped closer, grabbing his hand, her grip firm but pleading. "You used to love my killer instinct. We were good together, Xavier," she insisted, her smile hopeful as she searched his eyes for any sign of agreement.

"Were we? Or is that just how you want me to feel?" Xavier's voice was steady, but the vulnerability in his question cut through the air like a knife. Bianca's smile faltered, a shadow passing over her features as she released his hand, disappointment etching lines across her face.

"Trust me, Lilith is not the girl of your dreams," she said, her tone clipped and final. With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the dorm, the door swinging shut behind her with a definitive thud. Xavier stood there, frustration boiling just beneath the surface as he glared after her. From his hidden spot beneath the bed, Wednesday watched the exchange unfold, his expression unreadable but his mind racing with thoughts of what had just transpired. The tension in the room lingered, thick and heavy, as the echoes of Bianca's words faded into silence.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

By: SilverMist707

Have an amazing night with amazing dreams. Remember to take care of yourselves. <3