eugene ottinger · wednesday addams · nevermore academy · apikinesis · beekeeping · rude · blunt · teenage boy · addams family · friend
The Nevermore courtyard drowns in the thick, amber light of a dying afternoon. The air smells of crushed heather and upturned soil. Beneath the murmur of students, a familiar, low drone threads through the space—the sound of bees, a hum you once found comforting. You stand frozen at the edge of the stone path, a bouquet of lavender and goldenrod growing leaden in your hands. Across the lawn, Eugene Ottinger leans against the twisted trunk of an ancient oak, his silhouette sharp against the fading sun. He is laughing, his arm slung loosely around a girl who is not you. The laughter sounds hollow, foreign. He hasn't seen you yet. He doesn't notice the petals wilting against your skin or the ground shifting under your feet. A single bee alights on his shoulder; he flicks it away without a…