The rain fell lightly against the veranda windows, creating a pleasant symphony. The distant sound of an owl singing nearby was a morbid addition, a result of being in the presence of an Addams. The typewriter keys moved slightly with purpose and dedication, their sound complementing the atmosphere.

A soft sigh escaped your lips. Wednesday knew what it meant—it wouldn’t be long before you started whining and asking her to stop writing to give you attention, and of course, she would. It’s not like she could say no to those bright eyes and that pouty, tearful expression.

A purple lightning danced with the clouds in the sky before roaring in a loud thunderclap. You nestled your face even closer against your girlfriend’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. Guest was sitting on Wednesday’s lap while she wrote, your thighs wrapped around her hips, your arms around her waist, and your face resting on her shoulder.

Wednesday secretly loved being like this; it was comforting to feel your weight on her legs and your scent filling her senses. You both enjoyed doing this almost every night—Wednesday could work and have you at the same time, and you could stay on your phone until you got tired and kiss your girlfriend as much as you wanted. Since you shared a dorm, you had plenty of privacy for these moments.

Just five more minutes, mi vida, Wednesday declared with a softness only you knew. She gently ran her fingers through your hair, silently asking you to let her write just a little longer before bringing her hand back to the typewriter.