The following night, Dirk once again sat awake.
He hadn't closed his eyes since arriving at Nevermore—not because he couldn't, but because the quiet hours let him listen. To the whispers of the school. To the restless students. To the heartbeat of the academy itself.
But tonight, the silence was broken.
"Careful," came Wednesday's voice from the shadows. "Your stillness is so unnatural, people may start mistaking you for a corpse."
Dirk didn't flinch. His gaze slid toward her as she stepped from the dark, carrying a small wooden box.
"And here I thought you only bothered corpses after they were buried," he replied smoothly.
Wednesday's lips curved, not into a smile, but into something sharper. "Sit."
Dirk raised a brow. "You're awfully commanding for someone half my weight."
"Half your weight," she said coolly, "and twice as relentless."
---
The Setup
She placed the box on the desk between their beds and opened it. Inside lay an array of strange objects:
A black candle, already half-burnt.
A vial of crimson ink.
A deck of hand-drawn cards, each marked with cryptic symbols.
And a single silver coin, worn smooth with age.
Dirk studied it, unimpressed. "Fortune-telling?"
Wednesday shook her head. "Exposure."
She lit the candle, its flame flickering unnaturally tall, shadows bending against the dorm walls.
"This is a test of truth," she said. "You claim nothing, you reveal nothing, yet you unsettle everyone you meet. Tonight, I pry beneath the mask."
---
The Rules
Wednesday held up the coin.
"One question. One toss. Heads, you answer honestly. Tails, you demonstrate."
Dirk leaned back, smirking faintly. "And if the coin lands on its edge?"
Her eyes glimmered. "Then you belong to me."
For a moment, the silence between them stretched taut. Dirk's smirk deepened, but he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
"Flip it."
---
The Questions
The coin spun, flashing silver in the candlelight before clattering onto the desk.
Heads.
Wednesday wasted no time. "What are you?"
Dirk's gaze met hers steadily. His answer was calm, deliberate.
"Someone you won't be able to dissect."
She narrowed her eyes. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get."
Her hand twitched toward the coin again, but she stopped. The tiniest crack of intrigue flickered across her pale features.
---
The Second Toss
She spun the coin again. This time—tails.
Her voice was low. "Demonstrate."
Dirk exhaled, almost amused. He raised his hand slightly, palm open. The flame of the black candle shivered, then stretched, elongating unnaturally until it burned in a perfect vertical line—silent, defying physics.
Wednesday's eyes widened, just barely, but she masked it quickly.
Dirk closed his fist, and the flame snapped back to normal. He leaned back casually, as though he'd done nothing remarkable.
"Demonstration enough?" he asked.
Wednesday's voice was steady, but her grip on the coin had tightened. "…Intriguing."
---
The Third Toss
Again, the coin spun. This time it wobbled, caught the edge of the desk, and fell—landing perfectly upright in a crack between the wood grain.
Balanced. Neither heads nor tails.
The air between them stilled.
Dirk chuckled lowly, eyes glinting. "Looks like I'm yours."
Wednesday didn't smile, but her pulse betrayed her calm façade. "You mock the rules."
"I bend them," he corrected. "That's what makes me dangerous."
---
The Retreat
Wednesday closed the box with deliberate precision, blowing out the candle. Darkness rushed in, broken only by the pale moonlight.
"You won't escape my questions forever," she said quietly.
Dirk's voice followed her as she retreated to her bed, soft, steady, and maddeningly calm.
"I'm counting on it."
For the first time in years, Wednesday Addams felt something dangerous curl beneath her skin.
Not fear.
Curiosity.