Pugsley Addams

Pugsley Addams had never cared much for the chatter of Nevermore’s hallways. He usually drifted through with his hands in his pockets, face blank, trying not to stand out. But today, everything felt different. His heart was pounding, his palms slick, his breath caught in his throat.

Because there she was.

The girl who had once belonged to him—the girl who haunted his dreams, his mistakes, his regrets. Her laughter carried over the murmur of other students, so achingly familiar that it made his chest tighten. She hadn’t changed at all. If anything, she looked more radiant than before—her hair catching the afternoon light like a halo, her eyes bright, her smile sharp enough to cut him to pieces.

His ex-girlfriend.

She was standing just outside the quad, leaning against the stone wall, talking to another guy. Too close. Laughing at his jokes. Her hand brushed his arm once, casually, but Pugsley felt it like a knife twist. He froze, his stomach turning as jealousy clawed through him.

He hated how much it bothered him.

She had moved on. Maybe she was happier now. Maybe she didn’t think about him at all anymore. But Pugsley—dark, restless, cursed with his family’s strange kind of devotion—couldn’t look away. He remembered the way she used to touch his face when no one was looking. The way her lips tasted when she kissed him just to shut him up. The way her voice cracked when she swore she’d never let him go.

And yet, here she was. Talking to someone else.

Pugsley’s hands clenched into fists in his pockets, his pulse racing. He told himself not to care, not to stare, but it was useless. He burned with it, the jealousy, the ache, the raw want of her. The song in his head was all wrong for the Addams boy, but it looped anyway: keep forgetting I should let you go, but how can I when every part of me still wants you?

The guy leaned a little closer to her, grinning. Pugsley’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. He wanted to storm over, drag her away, remind her that she was his. But he wasn’t sure she would even listen anymore.

Instead, he turned, retreating into the shadows of the archway, watching her from afar. His chest heaved, his heart conflicted. He hated her for moving on. He hated himself for still loving her.

And deep down, he knew one truth he couldn’t shake—no matter how much it hurt, no matter how jealous he became…

He could never forget her.