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WD - Chapter 231: Luke's confidence
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 17:40:57 +0000 UTC“I love you,” said Wednesday.
Luke blinked, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t expected that the first thing he’d hear upon regaining consciousness would be those words coming from Wednesday’s mouth.
“That’s… unexpected,” he murmured, his voice sounding strange and hoarse after so many days without speaking.
They weren’t a conventional couple. They would give their lives for each other without hesitation, but they weren’t the type to express their feelings with words. They didn’t say I love you, I care about you, or things like that.
Physically, their relationship was different. Wednesday had no qualms about kissing him whenever she wanted, seeking his closeness in intimate moments, letting her actions speak for her. Luke was the same. They were even very active in that area...
But never an I love you.
Until today.
And Wednesday had been the first, to Luke’s own surprise.
“Well... if your goal was to leave me speechless, mission accomplished,” Luke said, looking Wednesday in the eyes.
Luke couldn’t help but complain inwardly. He had it planned.
Days before, back in Shadyside, he’d already been thinking about the perfect moment to say those words first. But it had to be a moment when he truly felt it was the right time.
And with the whole investigation in Shadyside, and then learning about the vampire clan and all that, it felt like there was never a good moment to say it.
“I was planning to say it first. You didn’t have to beat me to it,” Luke complained aloud, feeling the carefully planned moment slip right through his fingers.
Wednesday blinked, surprised for a brief moment, before a slight curl of her lips betrayed her amusement.
“Planned?” Wednesday repeated, her monotone voice tinged with a hint of mockery. “Since when do you take the time to plan something… romantic?”
“Well, it wouldn’t have been some super romantic moment like a fancy dinner followed by a big confession. I just wanted to find the right time. Something that felt… right,” Luke said, shrugging.
“And yet, you waited too long,” Wednesday stated calmly. “So I said it first.”
Luke clicked his tongue but couldn’t help chuckling under his breath. Of course, he couldn’t always win against her.
“So, is there something you want to say to me?” Wednesday asked, her gaze fixed on him.
Luke looked at her too, lifted a hand, and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “What I want to say… is that… I love you, Wednesday,” he said.
She didn’t visibly react, but he could tell her breath caught for a second. Then, without a word, Wednesday leaned in and kissed him again—this time more slowly.
When they pulled apart, Wednesday kept her face close to his, her dark eyes locked onto his.
“I thought you were dead,” she admitted, her tone unshaken.
‘Oh, the telepathic link,’ Luke thought, realizing immediately. That must’ve been why Wednesday feared the worst.
“I did die… My heart stopped beating for a few moments. Luckily, my green aura awakened—though I guess you already know that, right?” Luke said as if it weren’t a big deal.
“Yes, I know…” Wednesday nodded, her gaze scanning his face before lowering to his neck. “Your scar has completely vanished.”
As she said this, Wednesday lifted her hand and brushed two fingers across the skin where the scar used to be. Luke felt a tingle run through his body as her fingers slowly traced a path from his neck down to his chest.
“You should take the fact that you died for a few seconds more seriously,” Wednesday said, her voice as flat as always, but with a clear undertone of reproach.
“You were in a coma for over a week,” she added.
“It’s not like I could’ve done much about it. Elliot was ridiculously strong, and fast, above all,” Luke said.
Wednesday didn’t reply right away. She just kept watching him closely.
Luke, for his part, took a moment to examine himself. Despite everything that had happened, he felt… good. No, better than good. He had awakened with a clarity he had never experienced before.
His body felt light, his mind sharp, and he had four awakened auras.
It was as if everything had clicked into place. Luke smiled slightly, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction.
“Actually, right now I feel amazing,” Luke said, jumping out of bed and stretching his body, which seemed ready to enter another life-or-death battle.
“I don’t know how to explain it…” he added, rolling his shoulders and clenching his fists.
“I feel invincible.”
“Elliot is dead. Did they kill his brother?” Luke asked, looking at Wednesday.
“Yes, he’s dead,” Wednesday nodded, then fell silent.
She watched Luke closely, analyzing every nuance in his expression, in his stance. His confidence wasn’t new to her; Luke had always been someone who faced danger with the certainty of a warrior who knew exactly what he was capable of.
But this… this was different.
There was something in the way he carried himself, in that faint smile of his—a calmness that didn’t border on arrogance, but something else. An absolute certainty. His confidence had always been backed by his battle record, by his three auras. But now, with four...
This was a different level.
Luke tilted his head slightly, as if remembering something.
“Gabriel had two daughters and a wife,” he said in a neutral tone, with no anger in his voice, no trace of vengeance.
“I could go eliminate them,” he added with a smile.
Now they would feel what he had felt. The tables had turned. In the past, he’d been forced to live under protection in Nevermore, then with the Umbrio for a time, later with the Addams. And even then, he’d suffered assassination attempts.
“You might run into one of the old Spellmans who made deals with demons…” Wednesday said calmly, though she was clearly observing his reaction.
“My father and Uncle Fester fought two of those demonic elders. That’s why they were late arriving in Sunnyvale.”
“That would be interesting,” Luke replied with a faint smile, a hand to his chin as he wondered how powerful demonic elders over 150 years old might be.
Wednesday took note of that. There had been no hesitation in his response. Not a trace of concern, fear, or even a pause to consider the possibility. It was as if the concept of facing an ancient Spellman—someone who had made pacts with demons—didn’t represent a real threat to him.
"That’s not all. Remember that every psychic family has two or more main branches. The Addams have three. The Spellmans have two," said Wednesday.
"Then there’ll be more hunting," Luke said in a carefree tone.
Elliot and Gabriel were the strongest among the two main Spellman branches—at least among the living members. That didn’t include the ancient ones, those who had made demonic pacts and remained in the shadows.
But Luke wasn’t worried about them. Elliot and Gabriel had been active fighters, shaped by battle. Not like those rusty old relics who had stayed hidden for so long.
If he faced them, he would do so with the certainty that his skills surpassed any enemy who had spent too much time lurking in the dark.
However, Wednesday didn’t seem to share his confidence.
"And what about Edward?" she asked, her tone as neutral as ever, but with a calculated gleam in her eyes.
Luke fell silent.
Edward.
The name carried a different weight. He wasn’t just another Spellman. He was The Spellman, the one who had started the demonic dealings and sparked the war against the Poe family when they discovered his forbidden practices. Edward was responsible for the Poe massacre.
And on top of all that, he was a psychic who, in his time, had stood at the top of the power scale alongside Edgar Allan Poe, Luke’s own great-great-grandfather. Add to that the fact that he was still alive after more than 200 years and wielded demonic powers…
Luke exhaled slowly, some of that absolute confidence fading from his expression.
"That… could complicate things," he admitted quietly.
Wednesday watched him for a long moment before letting out a soft breath. She felt relieved that Luke hadn’t been completely blinded by his power.
"Well, at least your new aura hasn’t rotted your brain. It’d be a shame if you got stronger but dumber," she said in her usual biting tone.
She got out of bed calmly and walked up to Luke. Then she crossed her arms.
"But you’re still a reckless idiot," Wednesday declared. "You nearly died, were in a coma for over a week, and here you are, walking around like it’s nothing and talking about going back to fight. Not exactly a sign of intelligence."
"I’m fine, seriously. With my green aura and my clairvoyance, I know the state of my body," Luke said, patting his chest confidently a couple of times.
“I don't need to rest,” he added, like a child trying to get permission from his mother to go out and play.
But Wednesday didn’t seem impressed. Her gaze grew even more critical before, without warning, she grabbed him firmly by the ear.
“What—Hey!” Luke protested at the slight pain as she tugged on his ear, forcing him to walk back to the bed. Though he could’ve easily broken free, he didn’t.
With a firm movement, Wednesday made him sit down and then pushed him until he was lying down again.
“Rest,” Wednesday ordered in her usual relentless tone.
Luke frowned and looked at her with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “You know this is completely unnecessary, right?”
“You know I couldn’t care less, right?” Wednesday shot back, staring down at him with her stern expression.
“You’ll be allowed to move when my grandmother monitors your condition,” she said seriously. “Until then, you’re not going anywhere.”
“And where is she now?” Luke asked with resignation.
“She’s not home. She’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Wednesday replied calmly.
Luke was about to say something in response, but before he could get a word out, Wednesday climbed on top of him, settling herself naturally.
Luke’s body tensed immediately, and for the first time, he noticed what Wednesday was wearing.
The pajamas he had given her.
A black t-shirt with tiny skulls and a matching black mini-shorts, patterned the same, leaving her legs completely exposed.
Luke blinked, feeling his mind go blank for a moment. Wednesday rarely wore anything that showed so much skin. And he had given her that set with a pretty obvious intention—he just hadn’t expected her to use it against him.
Wednesday leaned in slightly, her expression unreadable, but a mischievous gleam danced in her eyes as she watched him closely.
“On second thought, if you really want to leave, you can,” said Wednesday.
Luke swallowed hard and stared at her.
He couldn’t push her off. Technically, he could.
“No, no. You’re right. I should rest,” Luke said, leaning back a little more into the pillows and coughing as if he were a bit sick.
“See? It’s not that hard to rest, is it?” said Wednesday with a faint mocking smile on her face.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Luke muttered, and with his hand, he began caressing Wednesday’s thigh, slowly sliding it up toward her mini shorts.
“We can’t do that right now,” said Wednesday, stopping Luke’s hand.
“Why?” Luke said, clearly unhappy. “Don’t tell me I can’t do that either because of the whole resting thing?”
“It’s not that,” Wednesday replied seriously. “You were unconscious for over a week. A lot has happened, and you need to know about it.”
“Oh? What happened?” Luke asked, expecting the usual: the Outcast Society in shock over Elliot and Gabriel’s deaths.
“There was a trial against the Spellmans. It lasted three days… and we won,” Wednesday said.
Luke’s eyes widened in surprise.
“What!?” he exclaimed, stunned.
Comments
Yazeed dx
Thx for the ch :)
Leo Santos
Tftc
