April stared up at the dark mansion looming above her, dread seeping into her bones before a misty drizzle began to fall around her. An eerie wind sent a chill up her spine that spread out to cloak her skin in gooseflesh. Was this really a good idea? If it wasn't, it was certainly too late to do anything about it, now. Feeling the gentle insistence of the steady rain, she tilted her face up to greet it, closing her eyes with a deep inhale and exhale. She had always liked the rain. Especially this gentle sort. It made edges softer, diffused harshness while being just present enough to root yourself within the feeling of it's gentle taps. Everything would be fine. She had dealt with truly awful living situations before. This was just a little room in a historic building. She would manage. She always did.

"Are you April?"

A startled squeak escaped her as April spun to face a young teenage girl. Relaxing slightly, she nodded.

"Y-Yes. Apologies, I startle easily. I'm working on it." She managed shakily, trying to put on a convincing smile as she offered her hand "I assume you're the daughter I was told about. Wednesday, right?"

The girl, pale with black hair in neat twin braids simply looked her in the eyes for a long moment, as if searching for something. Just as April felt convinced she would fall, spiraling forever in the dark depths of the velvety, nearly ink-like brown eyes, Wednesday shifted her gaze and took her offered hand.

"This will be interesting." Before April could question what she meant, Wednesday had turned their hands, grip surprisingly strong as she studied April's nails closely. She kept them long and almond shaped, not quite pointed, and generally painted in darker tones. This time was no different, a dark maroon with gold details. "Have you considered hu zhi to protect your nails? I can sharpen them for you. It would be an effective defense."

"...Hu what?"

"APRIL! We had not noticed your arrival! How excellent!" At her name being bellowed out, she startled once more, her hand still captive as she turned to see the man from the video call interview rapidly approaching. Soon her other hand was held in both of his as he gave an excited squeeze. "I appreciate an individual who can nearly disappear! Quite invigorating to be caught unawares!" She simply nodded mutely, unsure how to respond. They were certainly odd, and the house was questionable from here, but...its what she could afford that had enough space for her books while still being in walking distance to campus. Well, and within her budget.

"Morticia just put the finishing touches on your room! Will you be joining us inside?" Mr. Addams' asked merrily.

"Oh! Yes! S-Sorry, I didn't mean to make y'all wait. Let me start bringing in my bags." She managed as she finally broke free of their holds. Rushing to the back of the rented truck to get her things, she easily snagged a duffle bag to throw over her shoulder. Only then to struggle with the large rolling suitcase full of her books. Well, the first one, anyways. There were three smaller ones, then her specially packed box of rare and vintage tomes. "It may take me-a few-trips." She informed between careful tugs. Before she could resume her battle, a calm, clear voice cut across the yard.

"Gomez, why is this young lady trying to carry her own bags?" Frozen, she gaped at the unearthly beauty descending the front steps. Noble, slender, with flowing black hair and a gown that perfectly clung to her like rippling ink with a bright spark in her eyes. An oil spill. Beautiful and eye catching, yet readily choking out life.

"Cara Mia! Please, allow me to introduce our cousin, April!"

April wondered at being called their cousin before a large hand grasped the strap of the duffle bag, easily pulling it off her shoulder. Looking up, she swallowed hard at the sight of the hulking giant of a man who barely nodded a polite hello.

"This is Lurch, he will handle your bags for you." The woman informed with the smallest hint of a smile, though somehow that barest breath of welcome felt more sincere than any she had known. Before she could protest that she could manage, she found her hand taken as she obediently followed the woman's prompting to step away from the vehicle. "I am Mortica, I see you have already become acquainted with Wednesday and my husband, Gomez."

"Y-Yes ma'am. Its a pleasure to- Oh, please be careful!" She was finally jolted out of her daze at the sight of the giant easily pulling out the big suitcase of books. "The heavy ones are my books, some are delicate." She fretted "Especially the box in the very back." The man simply nodded with a grunt, though, his eyes met hers, surprisingly soft as he then moved a bit slower with the large suitcase. Rather than settling it to roll it along, he cradled it in his arm before moving towards the large, gaping maw of the manor's front doors.

"Lurch has a rather delicate touch. The sensitive sort, you know." Mrs. Addams informed fondly as a rather pallid, bald man appeared from what looked like a graveyard, followed closely by a teenaged boy.

"Fester! Pugsley! Come greet our cousin, April!" Mr. Addams bellowed.

"April? What an unfortunate name. So sunny." The bald man, he must be Mr. Addam's brother, blurted.

"Now Fester, the poor girl cannot help the choice her parents' made." Mrs. Gomez immediately chided, gently patting the hand her long fingers still held captive.

Before she could think better of it, in all the confusion she simply blurted out what she had always thought. "I think its nice. My name, I mean. With all the rain in April. I enjoy a good rain storm. Makes the air smell rather nice." For a brief moment all were still and quiet before Mr. Fester grinned.

"Ah, I see! Rain storms are quite enjoyable. That makes much more sense for an Addams." The boy nodded alongside him.

"Let us all go inside and give you the tour."

She immediately nodded, relaxing at her tone. "Of course, thank you, Mrs. Addams."

"Please, just Morticia, dear. I insist. Simply call my husband Gomez, as well." April instantly nodded, following without another word as they dripped their way through the estate from how the rain had soaked her. The house was indeed, rather old, but fascinating. So many odd pieces of decor. Statues from seemingly everywhere and every time. Intriguing artwork, as well. Mismatched furniture that somehow still made sense.

When they finally reached what Morticia said was to be her room, she gaped. It was huge, with gorgeously carved furniture featuring a giant four-poster bed draped in velvet like it had been plucked out of a novel. Along the walls were matching bookshelves, as well. Mostly empty, though one stood full to bursting with old tomes. The whole room smelled of old paper and degrading ink.

It was like a dream.

"Are you certain this one is mine, ma'am?" She asked softly, cautiously stepping into the space.

"Why of course. Who else would it be for?" Gomez questioned from the doorway.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"B-But I- The listing was just for a simple room! I, um, I can't affor-"

"Oh I know, it is a rather small room." Morticia mused almost regretfully as she glanced around appraisingly. "You happened to claim our last available one. The other, larger rooms were already claimed. Hopefully you won't be to cramped in here. I took the liberty of stocking a writing desk for you." Following the sweeping gesture of her arm, April nearly melted on the spot. It was glorious! A beautifully carved mahogany secretary desk with the most gorgeous detailing sat perfectly in a beam of light coming from the large, ornately draped windows.

"Oh..." she breathed, lost for words as something cool was placed in her hand. Dumbly, she looked down at the key now resting in her palm.

"Here is the key to lock it, if you wish. It only has the one, so do be careful not to misplace it. Though, one of the children would be more than glad to pick the lock for you in such an event. Now, once Gomez informed me that you were a literary major focusing on medieval literature I also brought a few of our books up from the library for you. Hopefully they will help you feel a bit more at home!" Almost in a daze, she found herself nearly floating to the bookshelf. Reverently ghosting her fingers across the spines, she felt herself reach a decision.

No matter how many side jobs she had to work, she was going to live here. She obviously read the contract price wrong, it must be about double that to live here, at least...but she could manage. She's done similar before.

"Oh, Morticia...they're wonderful." April nearly cooed, lovingly picking a beautifully bound book of medieval poetry up and cradling it as she gently opened to a random page. Seeing an illustration of a disemboweling, she smiled "Oh, I haven't read this one! I adore the more macabre literature! I don't feel it is quite focused on enough in comparison to the romance and spiritualism prevalent within extant texts of the time!" Blushing, she snapped her mouth closed before carefully returning the book to it's place. "I...Apologies. I often get carried away."

"It was lovely! I do quite enjoy that particular author. There is a wonderful poem about being buried alive in that one." Morticia hummed before continuing, sweeping towards the door to leave with Gomez alongside. "I do hope you enjoy flowers, I set some roses on the vanity for you. Lurch should be up with the last of your things shortly. Do make yourself at home!" Soon enough, Lurch did, indeed, arrive. Carefully cradling her special box as if it were priceless glass, settling it on the bed rather than the floor.

"Thank you, Lurch." April said softly, sincere. No one else was ever so careful with her treasures. Another grunt and nod, and he lumbered out of the room, leaving her alone. Looking around, she noticed an old gramophone, curiosity getting the better of her once she saw neatly placed records near it. Upon further inspection, they were orchestral records of symphonies she had never heard of before. Soon, she had it crackling to life before old, hauntingly lovely music lilted through the room to accompany her unpacking.

An incredibly odd week later, she found herself in the conservatory early in the morning. The rain drumming on the glass soothing some of her stress. Gomez hadn't asked for her deposit, yet, and she was starting to get worried. Maybe he was just waiting until the rest of the tenants arrived tomorrow? She had arrived earlier, after all...

"Will I disturb your melancholic contemplation while I garden?" The sudden intrusion didn't phase her, it never did anymore when it was Morticia. Something about the woman soothed her in the oddest way.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can leave-"

"No, please. It is a lovely spot for such things. Especially by the poison oak. The color variation is wonderful for wistful staring." April nodded, catching herself watching Morticia carefully prune the thriving roses. Meticuliusly selecting a bundle of stems for a vase only to begin to mercilessly behead the blossoms. April had noticed many such bloomless vases around the estate.

"May I ask why you behead the roses?" she asked before thinking better of it, worried she had overstepped. Morticia simply smiled softly at the question, lovingly arranging the stems of thorns.

"Gomez is allergic to flowers, so I remove the allergen prior to displaying my roses. I bred them to have the loveliest thorns."

April studied the stems in the vase for a long moment, the thorns upon them capturing her attention. Fairly uniform in scattering, thick, and gently curved like well-manicured talons to sharp points.

"They are lovely." She agreed thoughtfully, sleepless nights making her thoughts tumble out. "I always rather liked the duality of roses, especially in prose. Beauty and pain, promise and punishment. Perfectly balanced in velvet blooms and sharp thorns. Love and hate encapsulated in flora."

"Love and hate? An interesting thought. Do go on." That gentle urging had her gently smiling as she reached for a remaining bloom, carefully holding it as she mindlessly began plucking its petals. "My thesis is on love and hate's duality in medieval literature and it's effect on story. Specifically the argument that they are the same motivator."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The deep passion involved, the unerring drive it creates, the almost illogical need it possesses one of...love and hate are but reflections gazing upon each other by my way of thinking. One must love in order to hate, and hate in order to love. A matching set. What love has not a kernel of hatred at it's heart and what hatred has not the seed of love embedded within?" She posed, watching as the last petal fluttered down, leaving only the center with it's stamen. Reaching thoughtlessly for the ornate shears, she carefully snipped that off, as well, wanting to rid it of any pollen producing elements.

"What a wonderful thought. Simply exquisite." Morticia declared, eyes full of what felt to April like approval and...was that pride? "Hatred, such a beautiful thing, wrapped in the trappings of love. One and the same, just as a rose is it's thorns. How terribly clever! Oh you must share your thoughts with the rest of the family. Come, we shall gather them in the library."

Before she could protest, she was pulled to the library, soon facing all of the Addams who sat, gazing with rapt attention as, at Morticia's prompting, she stumblingly relayed her thoughts on hatred and love being one and the same.

"Brilliant! I told you, Morticia, brilliance runs in the family and Cousin April is continued proof!" Gomez declared giddily.

"She does take after Great Uncle Shelley. He wrote his own Eulogy, you know." Fester declared with his large grin. "An artist with a quill!"

"Wait, so hate is love?" Wednesday sighed at Pugsley's question.

"Yes, and love us hatred. It is a perfectly reasonable conclusion."

Thing, a sentient hand that had initially scared April until she realized how helpful it was with finding books in the confusing library system, tapped approvingly on the side table by Morticia's chair as Grandmama cackled.

"I always thought it odd that those sorts of potions had such similar ingredients!" The old crone mused, obviously delighted at the thought.

Lurch simply moaned an approval as April blushed deeper at all the attention, fidgeting under the unexpected praise.

"I-It isn't that revolutionary of a thought-"

"Nonsense! It is genius!" Gomez insisted grandly.

"Aimer c'est détester." Mortica mused "How poetic."

"Oh, Tish, you spoke French." Gomez nearly swooned before kneeling at a bemused Mortica's side and taking her hand to begin planting kisses up her arm. That was one thing April had noticed rather quickly: Gomez was obsessed, or, maybe possessed was better fitting, by love for the woman. "Querida, you know that drives me wild!"

Most everyone by that point had filed out of the Library, simply ignoring the common, overactive display of affection from Gomez. April, however, didn't have so clear an exit as her cheeks reddened at the sight.

"Bubele, please, calm yourself." Morticia chided, though she was smiling. Once Gomez had reluctantly pried himself from Morticia's arm, April summoned the courage to speak up.

"Um, Gomez? I-I hate to bother you, b-but, we haven't settled the matter of my first deposit." She squeaked out, unnerved by his sudden, rapt attention as dread at the no doubt rather larger sum squeezed at her lungs.

"Oh! Of course, my dear! It completely slipped my mind!" Gomez exclaimed, rather dramatically putting a hand to his forehead. Truly, the man was theatrics embodied. Though, it rather suited him. It was charming, in a way. "We must rectify this immediately!" Before she could confirm the true sum and ask about possible weekly payments, he had sprung across the room, rummaging in a desk for a few moments before letting out a triumphant exclamation. Within moments, he had returned, beaming as he took her hand, placing a stack of crisp bills in her hand. "There we are! All settled! How prudent of you to remind me! You college kids are so clever. Now, I ought to go put the finishing touches on the running path we're creating on the grounds! Our runner is arriving tomorrow and I want the course to be ready for them!" He insisted merrily before leaving with a flourish of his old-fashioned smoking jacket, Mortica leaving with the excuse of needing to top off the water in the vases around the estate.

So April found herself standing in the library of her dreams, gentle rain on the windows a quiet backdrop to the confused whirl of her mind as she stared at the bills in her hand. After a few moments, she found herself counting it, eyes growing ever wider as the sum kept rising. In all, it was over $3,000. A little over three times her rent just sitting in the palm of her shaking hand. But why?