delusional

Now, the dining room was alive with chatter. Her family talked about school, work, and mundane weekend plans, while Eddie’s uncle contributed an occasional dry comment. Eddie sat across from her, trying to follow the conversation, while mentally starting to panic as he glanced at her on the other side of the table.

Because of course he noticed. A small button on her shirt had popped off without her noticing, and now a tiny sliver of bra peeked through the gap. Eddie froze mid-bite, cheeks already pink. How do you even tell someone that without…?

He tried subtly first. A casual glance, shifting slightly in his seat, but she was focused on the conversation, laughing at something her brother had said next to her. The gap between the buttons caught his eyes again, and he felt himself stiffen.

Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Don’t stare, he thought.

He tried clearing his throat discreetly, hoping to get her attention without anyone else noticing, but she didn’t even glance at his way. Next, he kicked her leg under the table. Not too hard to make her draw attention from the others to her reaction, just ‘accidentally’ and gently touching her leg with his foot.

She turned toward Eddie, looking a little annoyed, and noticed the blush on his cheeks. He pointed subtly first at her, then at his own chest. She looked down and when she noticed the missing button, her eyes widened immediately and she slammed a hand gently over the gap, cheeks flaming. Her family was completely oblivious, laughing at something unrelated. She quickly fixed the button and closed the scandalous gap which only Eddie had paid attention to.

Eddie’s smirk stayed, which made her to kick his leg a little harder than he had kicked her. His uncle turned to him shortly when Eddie jumped on his seat, but he tried to brush it off with some excuse. The conversation at the table continued around them, everyone completely unaware of the silent, short but mortifying drama happening across the dinner table.

After everyone had eaten, she offered to clean the table from the dirty dishes and slipped away from the dining room, carrying as many of the dishes as she could toward the kitchen to drop off to the sink. The clatter of forks and plates echoed as she stacked them, grateful for a moment alone.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

“Thought I’d come to see what you’re doing back here,” Eddie said, leaning casually against the counter. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he smirked. “Figured someone like you wouldn’t be… well, wearing lace.”

She froze mid-stack, heat rushing on her cheeks. “I— what?” she stammered, glancing down at her shirt.

“That lace underneath,” he continued, gesturing subtly toward her chest. “Didn’t think you’d wear something like that. You trying to impress some guy?” His tone was teasing, low and casual, which she would have wanted to rip off if she could.

She swallowed hard, fumbling with a plate. “I, I’m not! No, it’s… nothing!” She tried to set the dishes down faster than necessary, fingers trembling slightly, cheeks feeling more and more hot the longer he stood there with that smug smirk of his.

Eddie leaned a little closer, just enough to make her flustered without touching her. “Uh-huh. Sure. Nothing,” he drawled, smirking. “Just thought you might have a secret admirer or something.”

She groaned quietly, muttering under her breath, “You’re extremely irritating, you know that?”

He chuckled and tilted his head. “Maybe. But you’re… definitely not helping me focus here.” His smirk softened, though his teasing lingered. “It’s cute, okay?”

Her hands froze on the dish, and she looked down, wishing she could disappear behind the sink, trying to regain her composure. “Eddie,” she mumbled, voice shaky, “stop it.”

He only laughed quietly, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. “Stop what? Admiring your, uh… taste in lace?”

She groaned again, cheeks burning hotter. She avoided looking at him entirely, pretending to rinse the plates with exaggerated focus. Eddie, of course, didn’t move, smirking faintly and watching her reaction with obvious amusement. The kitchen was quiet except for the running water and her shallow breaths, but the tension and the teasing spark between them was undeniable.

She took a deep breath, cheeks still warm, and decided she’d had enough of Eddie’s snarky comments. If he’s going to tease me, maybe it’s time he got a taste of his own medicine.

Calmly, she set the last plate in the cupboard, rinsed her hands, and turned to face him. She stepped just a little too close, and Eddie was caught off guard by her sudden boldness.

Her voice was low, smooth, almost teasingly casual. “So… if you’re so interested in my lace bra,” she started, tilting her head slightly, “do you want me to take my shirt off and show it to you fully? You only got a little peek after all.”

Eddie’s usual smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of genuine surprise. His dark eyes widened, and he blinked several times, as if trying to process whether she was joking or actually serious.

“I, uh…” he started, unable to form proper sentences. He cleared his throat. “I, no! I mean— wait, what?”

She smiled faintly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You’ve been teasing me,” she said innocently, “so, maybe it’s your turn to be flustered.”

Eddie swallowed hard as he stepped back, suddenly aware of how close she was, and how calm and composed she seemed compared to his scrambling brain. “Uh, okay, fair. Fair…”

Eddie was visibly rattled, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her eyes. She turned toward him again, and when he took a step back, she stepped forward. He backed into the fridge.

“W-what are you doing?” he stuttered.

She raised a brow, letting a slow, smug smile curl on her lips. “Well,” she said, fingers lifting casually to the top button of her shirt, “you seemed very interested just a moment ago. Maybe I should just clear things up.”

Before Eddie could decipher her tone, she slowly undid the first button.

Eddie’s breath hitched audibly. “Whoa, hey, hey! Hold on!”

She didn’t, keeping her expression perfectly innocent and voice light. “What? I’m just giving you the full view you’re so curious about.”

Her fingers slipped to the second button, pausing just as she began to tug it loose. Eddie practically lunged forward, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly.

“Okay, okay! Stop!” he blurted out, eyes wide with sheer panic.

She blinked up at him sweetly. “Why? I thought you wanted—“

“No! I mean, yes— NO! God, not like that!” Eddie sputtered, flustered beyond belief. “I wasn’t trying to see anything! I just, your shirt— There was exposure, not intentional. I’m not—“

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, her eyes dancing with victory. “Are you… flustered, Eddie?”

“No!” An awkward pause. “…yes. Maybe. Shut up.”

She grinned triumphantly and stepped back at last. “Glad we cleared that up.”

Eddie dragged a hand down his face, muttering, “I hate you,” while being very obviously relieved and extremely embarrassed.

She calmly re-fastened the top button, still smiling to herself as she turned back to the counter. Eddie just stood there, trying to catch his breath and failing miserably.

Get it together, Munson. You are not losing this one. He straightened his jacket, shook his head and cleared his throat with exaggerated confidence.

“Y’know,” he started, trying to sound smug as he turned toward her again, “you can admit it if you're secretly wearing it for... me.”

She paused, eyebrows lifting as she looked at him.

“Oh?” she said. “For you, huh?”

He nodded, moving to stand in front of her and trapped her between him and the counter, his hands gripping the edge of the counter right next to her hips. “Yeah. I mean, I get it. I can be… irresistible.”

She stared at him, while he smirked as if he was the one winning. Then, very calmly, she replied, “Well, I suppose you are… a little irresistible. As much as it pains me to admit it.”

He had not been prepared to hear those words come out of her mouth and for a moment he was speechless. She laughed under her breath at his reaction and tugged gently on the collar of his shirt. The two of them were standing extremely close, barely a hand’s width of space between them, as she smoothed the front of his shirt. Her fingers brushed his chest, causing Eddie to make another tiny choking noise.

But then, a small voice behind them said loudly: “Are you guys about to kiss?”

Both froze and slowly, very slowly, they turned. Her little brother stood in the doorway, juice box in hand, staring at them with the expression of someone who had caught two criminals in the act.

They jumped away from each other so fast both of them nearly tripped.

“N-NO!” she blurted out, face flaming. “We are NOT kissing, none of that!”

Eddie waved his hands wildly. “Nope! ZERO kissing! Anti-kissing!”

Her brother squinted at them. “But you were standing like this—“ He dramatically hugged the air and leaned forward with puckered lips.

“STOP! Stop doing that!” she yelped in panic.

Eddie covered his face. “Oh my god.”

Her brother slurped from his juice box, unimpressed. “You guys are being weird,” he declared. “If you wanna kiss you should just do it. Mommy says that when people stare at each other like that it means they li—“

“Okay! Time for a nap!” she practically shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around. “No more talking! No more even thinking!”

Eddie leaned against the counter, burying his face in his hands, but also weirdly smiling.

Her brother let himself be escorted away but called back over his shoulder: “Eddie, you’re blushing! That means you like her!”

Eddie choked so hard he coughed. She almost dropped her own face into her palms. When the kid had disappeared around the corner, Eddie let out a loud groan.

“That,” he muttered, “was a literal child sniper shot.”

She nodded, equally red. “I’m never living that down.”

He shook his head. “At least now we’re both dying.”

She laughed, soft but embarrassed. For once, neither of them had the upper hand. It was supposed to turn back to normal again, at least for a little while, but before either of them managed to say anything, they heard her little brother’s voice in the living room.

Her brother set down the juice box on the table, puffed out his chest, cleared his throat like he was announcing the weather on live TV, and said:

“Mom? Dad? I have an announcement.”

Both parents looked over, amused. “What is it, sweetie?”

Her brother beamed proudly. “Eddie and my sister are dating now.”

Both of them exchanged horrified glances, eyes wide and hearts racing and after a few seconds quickly rushed to the living room. Her mom and dad exchanged a look as well, but a completely different one than Eddie and her had exchanged.

Her mom broke into the biggest smile. “Oh thank god.”

The two of them whipped their heads up in unison. “WHAT?” they both shouted.

Her dad nodded approvingly. “We were wondering when you two would figure it out.”

“Dad!” she gasped. “We’re not— We’re— NO!”

Eddie was red from collarbone to hairline. “N-no! We’re not dating! No dating happening, none! Absolutely nothing romantic or, uh, like that!”

Her mom waved a hand dismissively. “Sweetie, it’s okay. We’ve known for a while.”

Eddie sputtered, pointing at absolutely nothing. “K-known what?”

“That you like each other,” her mom said cheerfully. “You have that look.”

“What look?!” she demanded.

Her dad shrugged. “The same look your mom and I had when we first started dating. The ‘I pretend to be annoyed but actually I’m in love’ look.”

Eddie made a sound that could best be described as a dying ferret. Her little brother, sipping his juice like a king watching chaos unfold, added helpfully: “Yeah, I caught them almost kissing a moment ago.”

“WE WERE NOT—“ she began.

“WE DIDN’T—“ Eddie added at the same time.

They pointed at each other.

“You explain!”

“No, YOU explain!”

Her mom leaned her chin on her hand. “This is adorable.”

Her dad nodded, turning the next page of the newspaper he was reading. “Should we start planning a wedding or give you two a few months?”

“NO WEDDING!” Eddie shouted.

“NO MONTHS!” she added.

Her brother snorted. “I’m telling my friends tomorrow.”

“DON’T YOU DARE—“ they both shouted.

And that was when she and Eddie realized, that they were doomed. Absolutely doomed. Her family would never let them forget this. Eddie leaned closer to her and whispered:

“We need a plan. A real plan. We’re under attack.”

She whispered back, “I know. They’re relentless.”

—

It took couple of hours of awkward recovering from the disastrous event her brother caused that Eddie and her managed to get somewhat back to their normal bantering selves and just ignore what had happened.

Right now, she was in her bedroom, which was a mess of books, boxes and random knickknacks. She balanced precariously on a chair, stretching her arm toward the very top shelf.

“Ugh,” she muttered, “why is everything I need at the absolute highest point of the room?”

Eddie leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her struggle. “You know,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “you could just come down. I’ll get it.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “I can reach it!”

Eddie raised his hands in a mock surrender. “Sure. For thirty more seconds of inevitable disaster.”

She rolled her eyes but reluctantly stepped down from the chair. Eddie stepped closer to the shelf, reaching up carefully. His fingers brushed the item she’d been straining for, a small, oddly shaped box she’d been meaning to reorganize.

“Got it,” he said… and then the chair wobbled.

“Eddie—“ she said, but there wasn’t time.

He lost his balance, tipping sideways in slow motion, and somehow, impossibly, fell forward directly onto her. They crashed to the floor together, limbs tangled. Eddie ended up lying across her chest, arms awkwardly braced on either side of her shoulders, staring down at her with wide eyes.

She froze, blinking up at him and whining out of the pain Eddie caused by his fall. “What the hell are you doing on top of me?”

“I, uh, gravity betrayed me!” he stammered, trying to scramble upright but only shifting slightly, which somehow made him closer.

They were sprawled on the floor from the shelf mishap, catching their breath. He tried to lift his head, but got pulled back. Her earring was twisted in Eddie’s thick hair.

“Oh no,” he whispered, eyes widening as he tried to gently pull his hair off, but it wouldn’t separate from the jewelry.

“Ow! Stop that,” she whined. “You’re gonna rip my ear.”

“I can’t get it out.”

“Not pulling like that you won't,” she gritted between her teeth. She tried to gently untangle the delicate chain from his dark locks, but every movement seemed to tangle the earring even tighter with his hair.

They stayed very still for a moment, her hands brushing over his hair as she tried to loosen the tangle. Eddie’s arms went up a little, hovering awkwardly, unsure where to place them. He was awfully aware of her body being pressed against his, and he hated that while most of him wanted to get off of her, there was a part where he would have wanted to stay like that just a little longer. He gently shook his head to get thoughts like that out of his head.

“Stop moving!” she snapped.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. “This is really… intimate.”

“I know,” she said, smirking slightly even as she concentrated on trying to free them, “but don’t worry. I’m being gentle.”

He gave a small groan. “Gentle, right.”

They froze again when the chain tugged unexpectedly, bringing them just a little closer. Eddie’s breath hitched. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh at how flustered he was, but also trying to hide how flustered she herself was too.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of careful untangling, she managed to free her earring from his hair. They stayed still for a moment, not instantly getting up when they finally could.

He looked down at her, really looked, and his cheeks went bright red. Her heart did a weird flip she pretended not to notice. He was about to say something, but that’s when it happened.

A soft creak. The bedroom door, slightly ajar, began to open. Her eight-year-old brother stood in the doorway holding a juice box and staring. The straw slipped from his mouth. Three full seconds of complete silence.

Eddie didn’t move. She didn’t move. Her brother didn’t even blink. Then, very slowly, like a man who had seen too much, her brother raised one eyebrow.

Eddie’s voice came out in the tiniest whisper. “…Hi.”

Her brother, expression completely flat, stepped back and gently, softly, quietly… Closed the door. Click. Silence.

Eddie’s voice cracked. “Oh my god.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Why is this happening to us?”

“I’m never coming out of this room again,” he mumbled

She stared at the ceiling, bright red. “He’s going to tell my parents.”

Eddie groaned. “We’re going to have to move. To another state.”

“Another planet.”

“New identities.”

They lay there in shared mortification until she finally said: “So, you getting up?”

He groaned. “I don’t think I can. I’m paralyzed with shame.”

They finally managed to detangle themselves and scramble upright. Eddie ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain composure.

“I hate you,” he said breathlessly.

She was sitting on the floor fixing her hair, Eddie pacing like a panicked raccoon.

She grinned. “Nah, you love me,” she teased.

He groaned dramatically. “This house is a death trap.”

“Okay,” she whispered, “maybe he didn’t understand what he saw.” Eddie froze and slowly turned. “He is eight,” she continued. “He misunderstands everything. Maybe we got lucky.”

Eddie’s eyes were wide. “I don’t believe in luck. Not anymore.”

And then— A knock. Both of them jumped like fireworks.

Her mother’s voice floated through the door, far too calm. “Sweetheart? Could I talk to you for a moment?”

Eddie mouthed NO. She mouthed I KNOW.

“Uh, what is it?” she called, voice cracking.

There was a pause. A long, dreadful pause. Then her mom said, far too gentle: “Honey… we haven’t had a conversation about you being on birth control.”

Eddie made a sound like someone had stepped on his soul.

Her entire body lit on fire. “Mom, WHAT?”

“I’m not judging!” her mom rushed to add. “Just… when two people get close, like you and Eddie apparently are—“

Eddie practically levitated backwards, like he was surrendering to the police. “No, no, no. NO. We are not—“

Her mom continued, kindly and devastatingly: “You don’t have to be embarrassed! You’re both adults. I just want you to be safe.”

She slapped her hands over her face. “MOM. We fell. That’s all. We FELL.”

“Yeah, that’s it! Gravity betrayed us, nothing happened,” Eddie rushed to say.

Her mom hummed skeptically. “Your brother said you were… tangled.”

She wanted to open the window and jump out. “He saw us fall, mom!”

“Sweetheart, even if you think that’s all that happened, accidents can—“

“MOM, NO!”

Eddie clutched his chest. “Mrs. (Last Name), I swear on my LIFE, on my D&D dice collection, that nothing romantic, nothing physical, nothing remotely suggestive happened!”

A pause, until her mom’s voice softened. “Alright. I’ll trust you both.”

Eddie sagged against the wall with relief, and she exhaled in a somewhat relief, until her mom added, sounding suspiciously amused:

“But if that changes, sweetie, just let me know.”

“MOOOOM!”

Footsteps faded down the hallway. Eddie slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside her.

After a long, mutual moment of dying inside, he muttered:

“I’m moving out. Tonight. I’ll live in a tent. In the woods. With raccoons. They cause fewer misunderstandings.”

They were still sitting on her bedroom floor, backs against the wall, trying to recover from the absolute destruction her family had just unleashed on their dignity. Silence hung between them. Mortified, exhausted, humiliated silence. Eventually Eddie straightened suddenly, eyes narrowing.

“No,” he said.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“No,” he repeated, more determined now. “I refuse to end today with me being the human embodiment of embarrassment. I need a win. A single victory. One point. Something.”

She squinted at him. “Eddie, we just nearly died from shame. Maybe we shouldn’t—“

But he was already turning toward her, bracing one arm on the floor beside her hip. Not close enough to be inappropriate, just close enough to be effective. His voice dropped, low and teasing.

“You know,” he said carefully, “your mom did bring up the whole… ‘you and Eddie being close’ thing.”

Her heartbeat stuttered. He smirked, noticing it.

“And who knows,” he continued, leaning one inch closer, “maybe your family’s onto something.”

“Oh, you’re trying to fluster me,” she said, trying for deadpan but failing at keeping her face neutral.

“Trying?” Eddie said with mock offense. “Sweetheart, I’m succeeding.” He rested his elbow on the wall just above her shoulder, making the position even more unfairly cornering. “You sure you’re not hiding a crush on me somewhere?” He winked. “I mean, you did fall for me earlier.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Eddie, you fell on top of me like a sack of potatoes.”

“Romantically,” he insisted. “Dangerously.” Then, added, smirking, “Devastatingly.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, but he saw her cheeks heating. His grin widened.

He went in for a kill. “Really though, you blushing like that?” His voice dropped. “Makes me think I hit the bullseye.”

She inhaled sharply, but then smiled. A terrifying smile. “Oh, Eddie,” she said sweetly. “You think you’re winning?”

His confidence wavered. “I mean… yeah?”

She leaned in too, slowly, eyes locked on his. When she reached up and took the collar of his shirt in her hand, he froze. She had that same mischievous glint in her eye he had seen before, which made his heart beat faster.

“Alright,” she said softly, voice low and teasing, “you know what… you win.”

He blinked in confusion. “I do?”

She smirked, bringing her face just a little closer, close enough that he could feel her warmth. “I might have… developed a crush on you.”

Eddie’s mouth went dry and his brain glitched. “W-what? Uh, no, wait—“

She tilted her head, letting the tip of her nose brush the space near his jaw, watching his reaction carefully. “And,” she whispered, her voice dropping lower, teasing, deliberate, “I might have imagined… many times… what it would feel like to kiss you.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. His fingers twitched in the air like they had a mind of their own. His face turned crimson, and he opened his mouth to respond, but right after shut it. Stared. Blinked. Did a tiny, panicked inhale. She leaned back slightly, still holding the collar, smiling at the way his composure had completely evaporated.

“You okay there?” she asked sweetly, voice dripping with mock innocence.

“I, I’m fine,” he blurted, unable to sound convincing. “Totally fine. Just, overheating a little.”

She chuckled softly, letting go of his collar finally. “Sure, Eddie. Whatever you say.”

He slumped back against the wall, face still red, muttering to himself, “I hate this house. I’m never surviving this.”

She grinned, victorious, already planning her next move. She pushed herself off the floor and brushed past him, smirking as if she was finally escaping the chaos. Eddie, however, was not letting her go. In one swift motion, he caught her wrists and gently, but firmly, pressed her against the wall. She froze, surprised by how close they were once again.

“You have imagined what it would feel like to kiss me, huh?” he whispered, voice low, teasing, letting his eyes roam over her face. “Want to try it out?”

She swallowed, cheeks warming. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, leaning closer. “You think I wouldn’t do that?”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to stay confident. “I know you don’t have enough courage for that.”

He grinned, dangerously playful. “Is that a challenge?”

Before she could react, Eddie leaned in, just close enough to brush his lips against hers and then he kissed her. It was quick, deliberate, a teasing mix of daring and mischief. She froze, wide-eyed, trying to process what had just happened.

Eddie pulled back slightly, smirking, still holding her wrists gently. “See? Sometimes I do have more courage than you,” he teased, his voice soft and playful.

Eddie expected a stunned pause, a flustered protest, maybe even a glare. Instead, she blinked slowly, the mischievous glint back in her eyes. Before he could react, she leaned forward and kissed him again, this time deeper, taking the initiative. Her hands slid up to rest on his chest, steadying herself, while her lips pressed firmly against his. Eddie froze at first, caught completely off guard. His arms instinctively lifted, holding her gently, but he was speechless, unable to pull away. The kiss lasted longer than his had, confident and intentional. It was her turn to tease now, letting him feel the rush of being flustered for once.

When she finally pulled back, just enough to look into his wide, stunned eyes, she smirked slightly, breath soft against his lips.

“Feeling a little out of control, Eddie?” she asked.

“Y-yeah. Maybe a little,” he admitted, voice cracking.

She leaned close again, brushing her forehead against his. “Good,” she murmured, letting him realize that she was very much in charge now.

Eddie’s heart raced, both from the kiss and from the thrill of being flustered by her. He smiled nervously, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.

After the second, deeper kiss, they stayed close for a long moment, foreheads nearly touching, hearts racing, the room charged with tension. She finally pulled back slightly, brushing her fingers along his chest and letting out a soft sigh.

“Maybe we should stop with the teasing for now,” she murmured, still smirking faintly, “before I have to go, you know… talk about birth control with my mom.”

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer against him. He whispered into her ear, “You know, there’s many steps that doesn’t require birth control.”

Joyce stepped into the hallway, smiling warmly, but then paused when Dmitri stepped in behind Hopper, quiet and cautious. Just behind Joyce, she appeared. She had been helping Joyce unpack the groceries for the dinner, sleeves rolled up, hair messy in a way that was definitely not intentional but very distracting.  She froze for a beat, her eyes locking on Dmitri, who froze as well. Something in her brain glitched. 

Oh.

Oh.

She had never had a type, not until now. No man had ever interested her enough to progress further than small-talk or platonic relationship, but this stranger who had just stepped inside the house made her brain and body function in a completely new way. He hadn’t even said a word to her yet, but she could tell this man was nothing like the men she had previously met.

Dmitri offered a stiff nod. “Hello,” he said gently, in that deep accented voice that hit her like a punch to the lungs. 

Hopper opened his mouth to speak, but no one heard him because—

“Oh,” she breathed out louder than intended, but slow like she had just discovered the concept of attraction for the first time. “Hello, there.” She smiled, but not her usual, polite and mild smile. A slow and warm, flirty-as-hell smile she had literally never used on another human being. She looked at him from head to toe and stepped a little closer than necessary. “So, you must be Enzo.”

Dmitri swallowed, feeling the urge to take a step back just by the look in her eyes but stayed still on his spot. “My name is Dmitri, actually.”

“Mm,” she hummed, smiling. “I like both.”

Hopper could only stare and so did Joyce, both of their jaws dropped. Dmitri, for his part, stood with a posture that suggested he was ready to be interrogated, arrested or tackled, but not flirted with. His confusion deepened when her chin tilted, confidence radiating off her in a way none of them had ever seen before.

She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Dmitri.”

He hesitated, then reached for her hand. She didn’t shake it, but held it. Warm, firm, lingering just long enough for him to temporarily forget English.

“I, ah, yes. Is… nice,” he managed to stutter.

Hopper kept watching her as if she had been replaced by an alien. She, who had turned down every date, ignored every flirty remark, rolled her eyes at every man who had tried to charm her, were now looking at Dmitri with unmistakable interest. She stepped again a little closer, while Dmitri stepped back instinctively, bumping into a coat rack.

“Do you always retreat,” she asked lightly, “or am I special?”

Dmitri blinked rapidly. “I, I do not know how to answer that.”

Joyce clapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh at the situation and Dmitri’s awkwardness. Hopper dragged a hand down his face.

She finally released Dmitri’s hand, only to angle herself just slightly into his space again. Hopper and Joyce were trying to process what they had just witnessed. The girl who had never so much as smiled at a man in a suggestive way, was now leaning casually toward Dmitri Antonov, who was standing as rigid as a soldier on parade.

Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve seen a lot in my life,” he muttered to Joyce, “but I swear, this… this is a miracle.”

Joyce nodded solemnly. “I think we just witnessed the impossible.”

Meanwhile, Dmitri’s carefully maintained Russian composure had completely collapsed. He opened his mouth to respond and froze again, caught in the thrill of being openly flirted with for the first time in a very, very long time.

She tilted her head and smiled at him, utterly confident and completely fearless. “You know,” she said, letting her voice drop to a teasing whisper, “I wasn’t expecting you to be so… handsome.”

Dmitri’s cheeks turned red. “I… I am flattered,” he stuttered.

Hopper groaned. “This is worse than any hostage situation.”

Joyce leaned on Hopper’s shoulder, whispering, “He’s so obviously nervous.”

“So,” she continued with an air of casual seduction, “how long are you staying?”

“I, I do not know yet,” he replied, still flustered, still not breathing normally.

“Well,” she said with a dazzling smile, “I hope it’s long enough for us to get to know each other.”

“Hoooly shit,” Hopper muttered. 

Joyce elbowed him sharply but didn’t deny it. Dmitri stared at her like she was something dangerous, but intriguing. Very intriguing.

“I… suppose that could be… nice?” he replied cautiously, like any word of his could trigger a bomb.

She stepped back at last, giving Dmitri a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen again, leaving him looking like he had just survived a natural disaster. Only when she was out of sight did Dmitri exhale, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She…” A pink tint had spread on his cheeks, as he looked helplessly at Hopper. “Is she always like that?”

Hopper snorted. “No. Never, not once. What the hell did you do?”

“I did nothing!” Dmitri protested. 

Joyce beamed. “Well, Dmitri… welcome to America.”

—

A little while later, Dmitri approached Hopper in private.

“Jim,” Dmitri whispered.

Hopper sighed. “What’s up?”

Dmitri glanced toward the kitchen where she was talking to Joyce, laughing at something. Every time she laughed, Dmitri’s eyes flicked toward her like he couldn’t help it. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, flustered red already.

“Jim,” he repeated, lower. “I need… explanation.”

“About what?”

Dmitri pointed vaguely in her direction, whispering like he was discussing nuclear codes. “She talks to me,” he started. “In… way.”

Hopper narrowed his eyes. “A way?”

“Yes.” Dmitri nodded urgently. “Way.” He gestured wildly with his hands, then gave up. “I do not understand this way.”

“What way?”

Dmitri leaned forward, he was dead serious. “The way where my face gets hot.” Hopper let out a laugh before he could stop himself, but Dmitri just scowled. “I am serious, Jim.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, sorry,” Hopper muttered, rubbing his mouth to hide a grin. “So you’re saying, she flusters you.”

“Yes!” Dmitri hissed. “She says things, looks at me like…” He searched for the word in English, and his jaw tightened in frustration.

Hopper helped. “Like she was interested?”

“Yes,” he said stiffly.

“And that bothers you?” Hopper asked carefully.

Dmitri opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I do not know,” he admitted. “She is very… Pretty.”

Hopper tried very hard not to laugh because Dmitri looked like saying that word physically pained him.

“Okay,” Hopper said slowly. “So you don’t dislike it.”

“I did not say that!” Dmitri blurted.

“Then what are you saying?” 

Dmitri dragged a hand down his face. “Jim… I have not flirted. Since before prison. Before—“ He stopped, swallowing hard. “Long time.” Hopper softened. Dmitri’s voice lowered even more, almost embarrassed. “And she looks at me like… like she knows what she is doing. Like she wants me to look back, and I do not know if I should.” He avoided Hopper’s eyes. “I do not want to insult her.”

Hopper raised his eyebrows. “So, you want to know if she’s actually flirting.”

“Yes.”

“And what you’re supposed to do.”

Dmitri groaned. “Da.”

Hopper chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, keep in mind: she has never flirted with ANY guy in Hawkins, ever. Not one.”

Dmitri’s head snapped up. “No one?”

“Nope.”

Dmitri’s entire expression changed. Surprise first, then something else. Something warmer, something he tried to hide.

Hopper lowered his voice. “So if she’s flirting with you, she means it.”

Dmitri went stock-still, breath caught and eyes wide. “Jim,” he said very quietly. “I do not think anyone has meant something like that to me in long time.”

Hopper softened again. “Hey.” He nudged him. “You don’t have to rush anything. Just, be yourself. You’re a good guy.”

Dmitri let out a long breath, like he had been holding the air in his lungs since he left Russia. Then he looked toward the kitchen where she was smiling at Joyce, but Dmitri wasn’t close enough to hear what they were talking about.

Dmitri’s voice was almost a whisper when he muttered again, “She is very… pretty.”

Hopper laughed quietly and shook his head.

Dmitri furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s funny?”

“It just,” Hopper chuckled. “Dmitri, you survived a Russian prison. The KGB. You fought the monster that ate everyone else in the prison.”

Dmitri straightened. “Yes. That is correct.”

Hopper raised one finger. “And she, SHE makes you nervous. By just existing. By talking. Just by being pretty. She hasn’t even touched you yet. And you, someone who’s faced death and the KGB, are practically melting like a popsicle.”

Dmitri exhaled shakily, hands clenching.

“Antonov, you need to relax. Be yourself. She likes you, alright? You don’t have to fight monster or survive interrogations to impress her. You just… exist around her and somehow that’s terrifying to you.”

Dmitri looked back into her and Joyce’s way. 

“The prison, it did not have women there,” Dmitri tried to defend himself. “I am not used to something like this.”

“You’ll learn,” Hopper smirked.

Meanwhile, she found herself in the kitchen with Joyce, helping clean up, but Joyce had clearly been itching to talk.

“So,” Joyce began, drying a plate and giving her a sidelong glance, “you’re… flirting with him.”

She raised an eyebrow, loading the dishwasher casually. “Am I?”

Joyce put the plate down and leaned against the counter, folding her arms. “Let me remind you of some of the guy who’ve been… very much into you over the years.”

Her, curious despite herself, leaned in slightly. “Alright, list them.”

Joyce’s eyes sparkled as she recounted: “There was that firefighter, very handsome, anyone would have died to get his attention. He asked you out and you were like, ‘no thanks but we can be friends’. He was shredded, by the way.” She let out a laugh at the memory, but Joyce continued seriously, “And the one who used to volunteer at the animal shelter, always flexing his… well, you know.” Joyce lowered her voice for dramatic effect. “And don’t even get me started on the cute neighbor with the dog, he practically tried to move in just to see you more.”

Her lips twitched into a small smile. “Okay, yeah, I remember them. And?”

“And now,” Joyce continued, shaking her head slightly in disbelief, “you’re flirting with him. The man Hopper dragged out of a Russian prison. And you just, you just swoop in right at the doorstep?”

She leaned against the counter, folding her arms, and gave Joyce a shrug. “Alright, I guess that sounds a little strange when you put it at way.”

“Is it the accent? Or the brooding ex-prisoner thing?”

She laughed quietly.

“I’ve known you for a long time. I’ve never seen you act like this. Not with anyone," Joyce said, but the expression on her face softened.

She thought about it for a moment, really tried to think, until turned back to Joyce. “Well. Maybe I just like staying unpredictable.”

—

A while later, the room had settled into a tense sort of silence, Dmitri still recovering from the last onslaught of her unexpected charm. Hopper and Joyce were pretending to look busy, badly, while absolutely eavesdropping. She tapped her fingers against the table, studying Dmitri like she was weighing a choice. Then, with her usual lack of hesitation, she stepped right into his personal space.

“Dmitri,” she called calmly.

“Yes?” He straightened instantly, as if she had barked a military order.

She held his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Do you have a woman in your life?”

Hopper choked on absolutely nothing. Joyce slapped a hand over her mouth. 

Dmitri, for his part, went absolutely rigid. “I… what?”

She arched a brow. “It’s a simple question.”

“I… I do not… No. No woman.” He cleared his throat violently. “I mean, I am not with… no.” Every sentence ended in defeat.

She smiled, satisfied, almost triumphant. “Good.”

Dmitri blinked rapidly, almost offended. “Good?” he echoed, voice unintentionally soft.

She nodded, leaning her hip against the table like she had all the time in the world. “Yes. Good.” Then, without mercy, “I’d hate to think I was wasting my time.”

Dmitri’s mouth opened and closed twice like he was trying to reboot. “Wasting… your time?” His accent thickened noticeably.

"Mhm," she hummed, looking very pleased at herself.

Joyce whispered to Hopper, “Is she interrogating him or flirting with him?”

“I don’t know. Both?” Hopper whispered back. “God help the man.”

Dmitri had spent at least half an hour practicing words in his head. How did people flirt with each other these days? She was younger than him, quite a lot if he had to estimate, so were there differences to flirting compared to young and old? Was American flirting different than Russian? He couldn’t steal her lines she had used on him.

You look nice. Your hair is pretty. Simple. Not dramatic. Not too forward. American flirting, easy.

Except it wasn’t. Because when she looked at him now, really looked directly into his eyes, Dmitri’s brain simply stopped working. She had teased him, brilliantly and effortlessly. Dmitri decided now was the moment to flirt back. Just tell her what you have practiced, he thought. Compliment her hair, simple. Say the line. He opened his mouth, and the line instantly evaporated.

“You…” he started, then paused, searching for anything in the English language. “You are… having hair today.”

She lifted her brows, a little taken aback. “What?”

Dmitri froze. Hopper, from the other side of the room, choked on his coffee. Joyce whispered, “Oh no.”

But Dmitri forced himself to continue, refusing to abort the mission. “It is…” He gestured awkwardly around her hair. “You hair is being very… there.”

She stared. Confused, amused and concerned all at once.

He tried again, starting to panic. “It is nice. I am saying it is nice hair.”

Joyce covered her mouth. Hopper muttered, “Jesus Christ, man.”

She, however, began to grin, delighted and eyes sparkling. “My hair is… being very there, huh?”

Dmitri swallowed. “Da.”

She stepped closer. “You trying to flirt with me, Dmitri Antonov?”

He went still, very still. His voice dropped half an octave. “Maybe.”

She took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes locked on him, savoring every fraction of his fluster. “Well,” she murmured, “you can keep practicing on me.” She leaned in just a little. “And next time, maybe try telling me what you really noticed.”

Dmitri swallowed hard. “What I… really noticed?”

She smiled like she already knew his answer. “Yes.”

He stared at her, heart thundering, Hopper mouthing say something, Joyce mouthing not the hair again. And then, somehow, Dmitri found the courage Hopper swore he had:

“You look…” he said, sincerity overtaking panic, “beautiful.”

She was the one to freeze this time. Her lips parted, her breath caught and her cheeks flushed.

Dmitri instantly panicked again. “I mean, good. Not beautiful. Well, yes, beautiful, but not—“

She laughed, warm and touched, and stepped even closer. 

“Dmitri,” she murmured, “stop while you’re adorably ahead.”

His cheeks went pink.

Hopper muttered, “Dear God, it actually worked.”

Joyce elbowed him. “Shh, let him have this.”

“Maybe later… you tell me how to flirt more in American,” Dmitri suggested.

She grinned slowly. “Gladly.”

Dmitri Antonov, for the first time being in America, realized that flirting might actually be survivable.

—

Dmitri was minding his own business, sitting at the kitchen table, quietly drinking tea, doing absolutely nothing wrong, when he felt a heavy hand slap on his shoulder. He almost jumped out of his skin. Hopper stood behind him, looking like a man who had rehearsed a speech in the mirror and hated every second of it.

“Walk with me.”

Dmitri froze. “Why?”

Hopper narrowed his eyes. “Because I said so.”

Dmitri stood immediately. Nobody would dare to disobey Jim Hopper when he used that tone. Hopper lead him out to the driveway. Hands in pockets, jaw tight, silence heavy as a brick. Dmitri swallowed, feeling like he was suddenly in trouble.

“You are… angry?” he asked carefully.

“No,” Hopper denied, but the tone of his voice very much meant: Yes. Very. Dmitri straightened, ready for interrogation. Hopper sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered: “Jesus, I hate this part.”

“What part?”

“The part where I have to give you the ‘talk’.”

Dmitri tensed so hard he could snap.

“Oh god,” Hopper muttered, kicking a pebble. “Okay. Look.” He turned to Dmitri, serious and solid as a wall. “I have known her for almost ten years.” Dmitri nodded respectfully. “She’s family. Basically a little sister.” Another nod. “And if you,“ Hopper pointed a thick finger at him, “hurt her, I swear to God, I will put your ass on the first plane straight back to Russia.”

Dmitri stiffened and his eyes widened. He was very sure Hopper could make good on that threat. 

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I would never hurt her.”

Hopper grunted. “Yeah? Well, you seem like a good guy. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” 

Hopper shrugged. “You were in a Russian prison when I met you. Hard to ignore.” Dmitri winced. Fair. Hopper stepped closer, voice low and honest. “She’s been through a lot. More than most people her age ever should, and she hasn’t… really dated. Not seriously. So if she’s looking at you like that and you’re looking back? Then this isn’t something casual. Understand?”

Dmitri nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”

Hopper stared at him for a moment, as if weighing him, measuring his soul. Dmitri kept steady, until finally Hopper sighed.

“Good. Because she’s important to me, and if you treat her right, I won’t… you know…”

“Kick me back to Russia?” Dmitri offered.

Hopper smirked. “Exactly.” There was a long pause. “Alright, I’m done threatening you. Let’s go back inside.”

Dmitri exhaled, relieved. Then Hopper clapped his enormous hand on Dmitri’s back so hard he stumbled.

“And Antonov?” Hopper added. 

“Yes?”

“I’ll be watching.”

Dmitri nodded quickly. “Yes. I know.”

—

For a moment, the room was quiet. Just Dmitri standing there trying to remember how lungs functioned, her watching him with that warm, wicked smile, and Hopper and Joyce pretending to reorganize papers while obviously eavesdropping. She turned back to her notes, humming softly, clearly pleased with the direction things had gone. Dmitri swallowed hard. His heart was pounding, but beneath the nerves he felt something else, something steady, something brave.

She liked it. She liked me.

He felt the courage crackle again, the same reckless surge that had pushed him to flirt back. Before he could think better of it, before caution could reclaim him, he stepped closer and called for her name, voice low and careful.

She looked up, eyebrows lifting. “Yes?”

Dmitri hesitated. Every instinct from a lifetime of discipline and restraint screamed at him to stay silent, to be safe, to avoid vulnerability. But then she smiled at him, soft and hopeful, and suddenly he found his words.

“I wish to ask you something,” he began, posture straight, shoulders squared like he was delivering a military report.

Her eyes sparkled with interest. “Go on.”

Dmitri inhaled through his nose, slow and steady. “Would you…” He paused, recalibrating. “…like to have dinner with me?”

She froze. Joyce dropped a pen. Hopper looked like he’d been slapped by God. 

“What?” she asked, shocked but in the best way. “Dinner? With you?”

“Yes,” Dmitri confirmed, forcing himself not to flinch. “Even though you have caused me more stress tonight than KGB or anything I experienced in Russia, I would like to take you to a restaurant or somewhere nice. I thought… it might be something you would enjoy.”

A beat. Then another. She approached him slowly, cautiously, like she was afraid he might disappear if she moved too fast.

“Dmitri,” she said softly, “are you really asking me out?”

He met her gaze with surprising steadiness. “Yes.”

Her expression melted into something warm, touched and genuinely flattered. 

“You,” she whispered, laying a hand gently on his chest, “are full of surprises.”

This time, Dmitri didn’t freeze. He placed his hand carefully over hers, fingers brushing lightly, his voice steady as he said: “I am trying to surprise you in good ways.”

Her smile grew brighter. “You are.”

“So…?” Dmitri asked, a hint of fear slipping into his tone. “Do you accept?”

She didn’t answer with words. She rose onto her toes, leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, just beside the corner of his mouth, making Dmitri stop breathing entirely.

When she pulled back, she whispered, “Yes. I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

Dmitri stood frozen, hand on his cheek like he couldn’t believe what had happened. “You said yes,” he murmured. 

“I did,” she teased. “And Dmitri?”

“Yes?”

“You can surprise me like that anytime.”

A stick snapped. Eddie jolted upright with a hoarse gasp, ready to bolt, until—

“Eddie?!”

Not a cop, not an angry crowd. A familiar voice, more footsteps following it. Branches shoved aside, and then they were there. Dustin first, crashing into the clearing with zero stealth, followed by Steve, Robin, Nancy, Lucas, Max—

And her.

The moment Eddie saw her, his lungs collapsed in relief so sharp it almost hurt. 

Dustin rushed forward. “Eddie! Holy crap, holy shit, we found you!”

Steve breathed out a curse, shoulders sagging. “Jesus, Munson, you look like you’re about to keel over.”

Eddie barely heard them, his gaze stayed locked on her. Breathless from running and eyes wide the second they landed on him.

“Eddie…” she whispered, stepping forward.

Something in him broke. The terror, the adrenaline, the suffocating silence of the woods. It all cracked at once, replaced by a wave of relief so powerful it drowned every thought he had left. He didn’t think, didn’t ask and certainly didn’t wait for any longer.

He stumbled to his feet, crossed the space between them in three unsteady steps, cupped her face in shaking hands and kissed her. It wasn’t slow or sweet, it was desperate and raw like he had been holding his breath for days and she was the first gulp of air.

The group behind them froze. Dustin made a strangled noise. Robin definitely whispered “oh damn”.

She pulled back with a gasp, eyes huge. “Eddie, what—“

He rested his forehead against hers, breathing like he’d sprinted a mile. His hands were still trembling where they framed her jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry, I know we’re not— God, I know, but I…” He swallowed hard. “I thought I was never gonna see you again.” Her lips parted, but he kept going, voice cracking open. “I might get arrested any second. Or shot. Or, I don’t know, just die.” His laugh was small and broken. “I just, I’m done waiting. Not when everything could be over tomorrow.”

Silence fell heavy and fragile between them. Her hands slowly, hesitantly, came up to cup his wrists, steadying them.

“Eddie,” she whispered, soft and shaken and still taken aback from this sudden outburst, “you’re here, we found you. You’re not losing anything.” His eyes closed, relief trembling through him. 

Behind them, Steve cleared his throat loudly. “Uh, I hate to interrupt the, uh, moment, but we really need to get moving before someone else finds him.”

Eddie didn’t step away from her, not yet. He just whispered, barely audible, “I’m not letting them take me without you knowing how I feel.”

As they started walking forward, Eddie didn’t let go of her hand. He was still breathing unevenly, still close enough that she could feel the heat of him, still looking at her like she was the only safe thing left in the world. Steve and Dustin were staring, then looking at each other with the ‘what the hell did we just witness’ kind of look. 

“Eddie,” Dustin started as they walked. “You’ve been missing for two days. Everyone thinks you’re a killer and the cops are crawling around like ticks! We’re terrified! And your first move when you see us, your first move, is to make out with her?!”

“Henderson, I thought I was gonna die out here,” he said firmly. “And if that was gonna happen, if that was the ending, I wasn’t going without doing that at least once.”

Dustin shut his mouth. Steve narrowed his eyes. And she just blushed next to him, words stuck in her throat and small smile creeping on her mouth that still felt the ghost of Eddie’s lips lingering.

“Okay,” Steve mumbled, turning slightly to whisper to Robin, “what the hell kind of romantic hero arc did he just unlock?”

Robin whispered back, “Trauma plus adrenaline apparently equals bold choices.”

Max stepped forward, unimpressed. “Can everyone stop staring? The cops could literally show up at any second. Figure out your love lives later.”

As the group continued walking, trying to find their way out of the forest and go somewhere safe, Eddie fell into step beside her, close but unsure, like he was waiting for her to shove him away or yell at him or something. Instead, she brushed her fingers against his, light but unmistakably there.

—

The water swallowed them whole. One second they were standing on the boat, breathless and terrified, and the next they were dragged down through the freezing lake into something else. A world of red haze, floating debris, pulsing vines and a sky that breathed like a living thing.

The Upside Down.

“Move!” Steve shouted, grabbing her arm as flying, batlike creatures screeched from the shadows. 

The things swarmed instantly. Leathery wings, needle teeth and tails like whips. Steve screamed something incoherent. Robin swung an oar like she was in a bar fight. Eddie grabbed a broken paddle and hacked at the nearest creature, sending it tumbling with a shriek. But there was too many.

One slammed into her chest, knocking her flat on the ground. The air left her lungs with a sharp gasp. It latched in her shoulder, teeth ripping at her shirt, claws digging into her skin. Before she could shove it off, another creature swooped down, wrapping its long tail around her throat. She clawed at it, choking in panic as the tail tightened. The creature above her screeched, jaw dripping saliva as it dove for her face.

“HEY!” Eddie’s voice cracked, high, terrified and furious. “HEY, GET OFF HER!”

He sprinted toward her, swinging the paddle like a madman. The creature on her shoulder hissed, right before Eddie brought the paddle down with enough force to crush it. It slumped off of her, wings twitching. But the one strangling her tightened its tail, hissing and pulling her head back. Her nails duck into it, her vision slowly blurring. Eddie didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the thing by its leathery body, tore it off her neck with both hands and hurled it into a pile of vines. It screetched, wings flapping wildly.

“Back the hell off!” Eddie shouted, voice raw and shaking. “NOBODY gets to bite my girl except ME!”

Everyone froze for half a second. Steve’s head whipped around. “What—“

Robin yelled, “Not the time!”

Eddie drove his knee on the creature’s chest which had already started going back to her, pinning it and smashed its head with the broken paddle until it stopped thrashing. Then he immediately dropped on his knees beside her.

“Hey. Hey, hey,” he panted. His hands hovered over her, afraid to touch, but afraid not to. “Are you okay? Can you breathe? Did it— shit, you’re bleeding.”

She coughed, sucking in air and managed, voice hoarse, to say, “Did you just call me your girl?”

Eddie froze like she’d turned him into stone, and his eyes widened like he had just been caught doing something illegal. Robin looked like she was witnessing a soap opera in Hell.

Steve muttered, “They’re gonna get us killed.”

Eddie swallowed hard, still panting, eyes wide. “I, I panicked,” he stammered. “I panicked really bad. Also, yes. But mostly panic.”

Despite the blood and the pain, she laughed, shaky and breathless. Eddie helped her to her feet, arm firm around her waist as she gained her balance back.

“I swear I’ll beat every single one of these demon bats to death if they touch you again.”

She leaned into him. “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

She didn’t speak, only cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. When she let go of him, his face went red even in the blue-red glow of the Upside Down. She then asked, “Okay, but… are you actually going to bite me?” Her voice turned low and playful. “Are you really into that kind of thing, hm?”

“Sweetheart, I can be into all kinds of things when it comes to you,” he replied quietly and smirked, brushing her cheekbone with his thumb. “You think you could handle it?”

“Oh my GOD, can you two PLEASE stop being in love until we get out of here?” Steve shouted.

—

Eddie kept one arm loosely around her as they explored the world where they had dived into, like letting go would somehow invite the monsters back.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and let out a shaky laugh. “Well, at least no one actually bit anyone’s head off.”

Eddie froze, his eyes shot up to hers. He stared at her for a long time, causing her to look confused why he stopped. “Wait. Am I going crazy or did you just— Did you just reference Black Sabbath?”

She smirked, breathless, teasing despite the grime and scratches. “Yeah… why?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “You, you like Black Sabbath?” His voice was a mix of disbelief, awe, and something that equaled shock.

Her smirk widened. “They’re good. You gonna make a problem out of it?”

Eddie stared. Stared like she’d just confessed to being from another planet. “Holy shit.”

And before she could say another word, he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her even harder than the first time in the woods. A desperate, relieved, wet, messy kiss, all adrenaline and terror and gratitude. She was surprised and almost fell backward by the force Eddie jumped at her, but he put his arm around her waist to keep her steady and tight against him.

His voice was quiet as he said, lips still against hers, “You’re even more hot than I thought.”

She laughed, but then got more serious and whispered back, “I can even play ‘Paranoid’ with a guitar.”

Eddie’s legs gave in and he fell on his knees in front of her. He took a deep breath like he could steady himself. 

“You’re killing me right now,” he said. 

She blinked, heart thumping, half-laughing and half-flustered. She had not been prepared to him falling down on his knees just by the mere mention of her liking the same music as him. “Oh my god, Eddie. Get up.”

He grabbed her knees and kept looking up at her. “Seriously. Black Sabbath, surviving bat demons and you let me kiss you? I think you just broke my brain.”

She laughed, shaking her head, and he laughed with her, adrenaline still pumping in both of their veins. Nancy, Robin and Steve stared at the two of them from a short distance, Eddie on his knees, grabbing her legs. Looking at her like she was a damn Goddess fallen from heaven.

“Is he about to propose?” Nancy asked quietly in disbelief. “Here?”

“We should have left one of them at the beach,” Steve mumbled. 

—

By the time they had reached the Wheeler house, its Upside Down twin looming like a hollowed-out corpse, her lungs were scraping for air. Inside, the house felt even colder. Dust floated in the air like ash. The lights on the walls were dead and drained of color, and every breath felt like inhaling wet concrete. Shadows shifted unnaturally across the walls, and the ceiling seemed impossibly far away, dripping with dark vines.

“This is where they did it,” Nancy said, breathless. “Joyce, Will, the whole Christmas-light Morse code thing.” Nancy tried to turn on one of the lights but with no use, a frustrated huff leaving her mouth. “This isn’t working!”

Steve pointed his flashlight up toward the ceiling lamp. “Guys… are you seeing this?”

As the light hit the lamp, it got its golden color back and started almost shining, coming back to life among the darkness that surrounded them. It was glowing. All of them reached their hand toward the golden lamp, some sort of glow starting to float around their fingers. A glow that felt unnatural in the Upside Down which was filled only with darkness and death. Eddie’s palm brushed her fingers, and as he turned his head to her way, all he could think was ‘god, she looks beautiful in this light’.

“It… tickles,” Steve mumbled.

“And it feels good,” Robin sighed quietly.

Nancy looked around the people surrounding her and asked, “Does anyone know Morse code?”

Everyone stayed silent for a long moment, until Eddie spoke up, “Does SOS count?” All heads turned toward him as if he had just saved the day. “Is that, is that good?”

The others moved out of the way, giving Eddie space and let him work on sending the SOS code forward. He started tapping the lamp with his fingers, eyebrows knitted together as he concentrated. It took a while, and some of them already had a sinking feeling in their stomach that this wasn’t going to work after all. But Eddie kept tapping until…

It worked. It actually worked. 

Everyone sighed a breath of relief. Eddie made a sound not entirely human — half laughter, half disbelief — and then he grabbed her. Not her hand. Her face. And he kissed her like the fear, the cold and the death outside finally broke loose inside him. His mouth was hot, urgent, overflowing with the wild joy of not being alone anymore. His fingers slid into her hair, pulling her in like he couldn’t get close enough. She, even though startled, kissed him back right away, hands sliding to the back of his neck beneath his hair. It wasn’t a grounding kiss this time, not a panic reaction either. It was victory and relief. It was Eddie Munson kissing her because the world cracked open and let in the smallest sliver of hope. 

When he finally pulled back, slowly like he had to pry himself away, his forehead rested against hers. Both of them were shaking. He let out a breathless laugh. 

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“That kiss was… different.”

He swallowed hard, brown eyes softening with something he didn’t bother hiding anymore. “I know,” he said quietly. “We get out of this, if we actually make it home, I’m… I’m gonna want to do that again. Without monsters. Or panic. Or Morse code. Or cops.”

Her heart flipped. She squeezed Eddie’s hand. “Then let’s survive this,” she said with a smile that warmed Eddie’s chest, “so you can.”

—

Eddie staggered upright from the mattress he had just fallen on. He swayed like a newborn deer and immediately got tackled by Dustin. “EDDIE! Dude, your face! And your, what happened to your— were you fighting things?!”

Eddie wheezed as Dusting hugged him like a human vice. “Henderson, buddy— lungs, need those—“

Lucas tugged Dustin back by the collar of his shirt. “Dustin, let him breathe!”

“You said you weren’t gonna do anything stupid!” Dustin shouted at Eddie.

Eddie shrugged weakly. “Eh, define stupid.”

It was her turn now, and climbing through the gate felt like crawling out of a grave. The air shifted first, warm and alive. Sooner than she was prepared to, she was falling and her fingers were digging into a mattress instead of cold, pulsing vines.

Eddie grabbed her arm and pulled her up, making her stumble right into his arms. He kept her there for a while, an she opened her mouth to say something—

—but Eddie kissed her before she managed. Right there in the middle of the room, hard and unapologetic. Nothing like the frantic Upside Down kisses. This one had weight and purpose. A slow-igniting relief that curled warm and dizzy in her stomach. He cupped her jaw with both hands, pulling her into him like he had been holding his breath the entire walk back to reality.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed and breathing her in.

She heard Dustin whisper, “What the hell.”

Lucas smacked his arm. “Dude.”

“What?!” Dustin whisper-shouted. “I didn’t know they were— are they— did that just, did he just—?!”

Eddie didn’t even look at them. He was still staring at her, thumb brushing her cheekbone, voice low and rough.

“We made it,” he said. “We’re out. You’re here. I just,“ A shaky laugh pushed out of him, “needed to do that while the world wasn’t falling apart.”

Her heart hammered but she managed a breathless smile. “You kissed me in front of the kids.”

He glanced over his shoulder at Dustin and Lucas, who were frozen like witnesses to a crime. 

Eddie raised a hand lazily. “Sup.”

Dustin threw both hands in the air. “Nope. NUH-UH. You do not get to almost die and then come back making out like some post-apocalyptic rockstar.“

“Be glad that you weren’t over there with us,” Steve mumbled. “They had a little different priorities than the rest of us.”

Dustin pointed at Eddie. “I want details later.”

Eddie winced. “You absolutely will not be getting details.”

She laughed, really laughed, because it felt good to feel anything other than terror. Eddie slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side, still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and something warmer.

—

The house eventually quieted down, voices fading, doors shutting, footsteps retreating down hallways. She slipped outside for a moment of air. The adrenaline was thinning, leaving her knees shaky and heart still beating too fast. She didn’t hear Eddie approach, she just felt him before she saw him. A gentle brush of his fingers on her shoulder, a hesitant step beside her.

“Thought you disappeared,” he murmured. 

“You’d notice if I did,” she teased.

He huffed a soft laugh, but it was breathless, like it came from somewhere deeper. For a moment neither of them spoke, the quiet between them was warm and fragile. Eddie’s shoulder brushed hers. 

Finally, he said, “I, uh… didn’t really get a chance to kiss you properly.”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him into his eyes, a tiny smirk spreading on her face. “None of them were 'proper' kisses?“

“I don’t mean the panic ones,” he added quickly. “Or the celebratory one that probably traumatized Henderson for life.” She laughed, making him smile. “I mean…” His eyes dropped. “I mean a real one. Where I’m not scared you’re about to be eaten by some hell creature.”

She stilled. “Oh,” she whispered. “A real one.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “If you want to. No pressure. No—“

She leaned in before he even managed to finish the sentence. Not kissing him, just pressing her forehead against his, letting him feel her yes before she said it.

“I want to.”

Eddie inhaled sharply. His hand came up, tentative at first, then firmer, cradling her jaw like he was holding something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to want. He kissed her slowly at first. Soft and careful. Like he was relearning how to do this without fear twisting in his chest. His lips brushed hers once, twice, barely-there touches that made her stomach tumble in the sweetest way. Then he deepened it, just a little. Enough to tilt her head back against the wall. Enough for his fingers to slide into her hair, tugging gently. Enough to make her breath hitch against his mouth. He kissed her like he was hungry for her, but patient about it. No rush, no panic. Just the heat of him pressed close, the warmth of his breath, the quiet little sigh he let out when her hand slid up his chest to his collar. He kissed like someone who couldn’t believe the world finally stopped shaking long enough for this to happen. 

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers again, both of them breathless in the dim moonlight. 

“Damn,” he gasped, voice rough, “that’s… better without monsters.”

She smiled, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. “You were holding back in the Upside Down?”

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, lips ghosting hers, “you have no idea how much.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, like he finally understood he had all the time in the world to take her in. And for the first time all night, neither of them heard any footsteps. No yelling, no distant growling — no danger. Just breathing, just warmth — just Eddie. 

They were still leaning into each other, breath tangled, heads close enough that she felt every warm exhale against her lips. His hand was still in her hair, hers was still curled in the fabric of his shirt. It would have been easy to just stay like that forever.

“You know, when those demon bats attacked us,” Eddie started, swallowing hard, and she could feel his hands tremble a little. “It really did scare me when they were attacking you.”

She pulled back, just an inch, her lips brushing the edge of his jaw as she whispered, “Relax, Eddie. I’m right here.” She kept a short pause, a smirk spreading on her face, putting more weight on her next words. “And nothing else matters.” 

He almost choked in his own spit, eyes lighting up exactly the way they had back in the Upside Down when she had thrown out that offhand Black Sabbath reference to calm his nerves.

“Oh my god,” he breathed,  eyes wide. “Did you, did you just quote—” He stared at her. Like, really stared. Like she had just recited scripture from the Holy Gospel of Metal directly into his bloodstream. “Say that again.” His voice dropped half an octave.

She raised a brow. “Mm, say what?”

He leaned in closer, breath hot against her cheek. “The part where you referenced my music again like it’s just normal for you.”

She shrugged casually. “What? You think I don’t know anything past ‘Paranoid’? Eddie, please. I was listening to ‘Heaven and Hell’ way before you dragged me into the actual hell.”

His pupils blew wide. “Jesus Christ.” His hands slid to her waist, fingers tightening like he was restraining himself. “You’re gonna kill me.”

She pretended to act innocent and tilted her head. “What? For knowing Ronnie James Dio?”

He made a strangled noise. An honest-to-god strangled, helpless noise.

“Or that Black Sabbath recorded their first album in one day?”

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. “Oh you’re—“ Eddie cut himself off, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. “You cannot just drop Dio and Sabbath references into casual conversation and expect me to behave.”

She leaned in, lips grazing his ear. “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”

Eddie nearly levitated. He grabbed her face, gently but decisively, tilting her mouth up to his like she had just flipped the world’s most dangerous switch. His kiss wasn’t rushed this time, but it was starving, like he had been waiting years for someone to understand him without him having to explain a damn thing. She felt him smile into it. A wicked, dizzy smile.

He broke the kiss only long enough to murmur against her lips, “You quote metal again and I swear to god, sweetheart, I’m gonna—“

She whispered, “—drive you crazy?”

His grip tightened. “Too late.”

He kissed her again, deeper and hotter, but still slow enough that every second burned in the best possible way. His thumb came up to stroke her cheekbone. His other hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her in until there wasn’t any space left, their bodies fully pressed against each other, molding together. They were both panting when he finally rested his forehead against hers, laughing.

“You’re unreal,” he rasped. 

“So you’ve said.”

“Yeah, well,” he murmured, lips brushing hers again, “you keep reciting my music like it’s your first language and I’m gonna—“

“Yes?” she teased.

“—I’m gonna need, like, a two-minute warning next time.”

She snorted. “Why?”

“Because I will absolutely maul you and we’re around damn kids right now.”

“Well, the kids are inside,” she pointed out quietly. “But…” She leaned closer to whisper into his ear, her hot breath against his skin sending shivers down his spine. “I think tonight… you should sleep with one eye open. And grip your pillow tight.”

Eddie pushed her against the wall, hard, and growled through his teeth, “Stop talking dirty to me or I’ll rip you apart.” Actually growled like a feral animal.

Her laugh echoed in the yard as he kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then her lips again. Quick, warm, hungry little presses that betrayed exactly how undone he was. And in that tiny pocket of quiet, Eddie Munson looked at her like she was his favorite song.

---

Eddie Munson was very good at pretending, at least he thought so, but he believed it since nobody had said anything. Tonight was no different. She was sitting on couch in living room, the soft glow of TV lighting up her face, laughing at a show he had no clue about. She looked perfect. Effortless. Dangerous, even, in a way that made his chest hurt. She turned toward him suddenly. 

“Oh! Eddie, could you grab me the blanket? I’m freezing.”

He stood so fast he almost tripped over the coffee table. “Uh, yeah. Sure. No problem.”

As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed. Just a flicker of contact, but it was enough. Enough to make his brain glitch and his heart explode.

“You okay?” she asked casually, noticing the hesitation.

He cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah. Totally. Cool. Great. Blanket delivered.”

She laughed quietly. “Thank you.”

His chest felt like it might cave in from happiness and terror all at once every time he managed to make her laugh. Even if it lasted only a few seconds, but that one little sound was like music to his ears that he never wanted to stop listening to. Oh, if she just knew what she was doing to him with those little gestures that mattered more to him than they normally should. 

He sat across from her, trying to act normal while her brother was beside him which he was awfully lot aware of. Except, acting normally felt impossible, because he had been in love with her since he was sixteen. Since she made him laugh in the cafeteria and he thought, holy hell, someone get this girl a medal because she just ruined my ability to act cool.

And she was just… sitting there, smiling at him, looking at him like he was just her friend. Her brother’s friend. The guy she had known for years and would always remain as just a friend.

And Eddie was supposed to just be fine with that. Eddie had sweared to himself that one day, one day he would tell her. But for now? He would settle for just being here. Just being near her, just being the guy she trusted. And maybe if he was lucky, some day she’d see him too. But that was a tomorrow he couldn’t reach yet. So he just smiled, quietly and painfully.

—

Eddie had slept on the couch but barely. Because every time he shut his eyes, his brain supplied vivid images of her smiling while watching TV last night. Her voice, her laugh. The way she had once said he was “easy to be around” like it was the nicest compliment in the universe.

He was half-dead when he wandered to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, hair sticking out in every possible direction. He was expecting her brother. Or her mom. Or the family dog. What he wasn’t expecting and what he was absolutely not prepared for was her.

Walking in the kitchen, yawning softly, with messy morning hair and still sleepy eyes, wearing an oversized t-shirt that hanged off her shoulder—

His t-shirt.

The faded black one with the old Corroded Coffin logo he hand-drew years ago. The one he lost here months ago and secretly mourned. Eddie stopped walking, breathing and functioning entirely. She noticed him after a second.

“Oh, morning, Eddie.” She stretched her arms over her head, casually, and the shirt rode up just a little, showing the barest peek of her thigh.

Eddie nearly blacked out. Her brother’s voice echoed in his head. Don’t be weird around my sister, man. Too late. He was weirder than ever before right now. She grabbed her usual mug and filled it with coffee, humming, totally oblivious to the storm going through in his head. She turned her head to his way when she didn’t get a ‘good morning’ back and furrowed her brows as she noticed him staring at her shirt.

“What?” she asked.

“That shirt, uh, I,” Eddie mumbled. Shut up, let it go, he thought.

“Oh, I just borrowed it from my brother, hope he doesn’t mind I took it,” she admitted, brushing her fingers on the hem of the shirt. “It’s more comfortable to sleep in than my own shirts.”

The floor almost crumbled beneath Eddie’s feet. “You, uh. You slept in it?” 

“Yeah, I did. Why?” She definitely noticed he was acting weird again.

His mouth moved before his brain catched up. “That’s… that’s not his,” Eddie managed to mumble.

“It’s not?”

“That’s, um. That’s mine,” he revealed, voice trembling. Don’t imagine her sleeping in your shirt, Jesus Christ, he thought, annoyed with himself.

“What?”

“That’s my shirt.” It came out strangled, pitiful. He wished he could evaporate on the spot.

She looked down at herself, then back at him. Confused and surprised but eventually amused.

“Oh. Oh, this is yours?” She tugged at the logo. “You drew this, didn’t you? I always liked this one.”

Eddie felt every nerve ending in his body ignite. “You… liked?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling softly. “It’s comfy.”

Comfy. She thought his shirt was comfy. She was wearing his clothes. God damn it, she slept in his clothes. He gripped the counter behind him because his knees might genuinely give out. She stepped a little closer, still talking casually.

“Sorry if it’s weird I borrowed it. I didn’t know it was yours.”

Eddie’s brain: Say something normal. Eddie’s mouth: “It looks good on you.”

Her eyes lifted to his, slow and warm, and a little surprised.

“Oh,” she said quietly. Neither of them moved.

Eddie’s heart was pounding louder than a drum solo. He swallowed hard and immediately looked away, pretending to examine, God help him, the toaster, because he couldn’t handle her face at that moment. She hid a small smile behind her mug.

“You okay?” she asked.

No. No, he was not. He hadn’t been okay since the moment she walked in wearing his shirt like it belonged to her, but he flashed a shaky grin. “Yeah, totally. Fine. Just… morning. You know, mornings.”

She laughed, genuine and beautiful, and he thought he might faint. “Well,” she said, sipping her coffee. “If you ever want your shirt back, you’ll have to fight me for it.”

Eddie’s heart stuttered. She was teasing him. Was it flirting, even? No, probably just teasing. Probably. Yes, definitely just teasing. Friendly teasing. That was all.

“Keep it,” he blurted out. She tilted her head.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a shaky breath, voice lower than he meant. “It looks better on you anyway.”

Her cheeks grew warm, and she quickly hided it by turning toward fridge. And Eddie, standing there with shaking hands, realized something dangerous. If he hadn’t been in love with her before, he sure as hell was now.

—

She honestly shouldn’t have come. Her brother had dragged her to some Hawkins house party — loud music, sticky floors, too many people pretending to have a good time — and then promptly disappeared into the crowd the second she walked in. She had spent most of the night clutching a warm drink she didn’t want, weaving between groups of half-drunk classmates, and wondering how quickly she could leave without hurting anyone’s feelings. 

That’s when Jason Carver cornered her. Great. He was smiling the kind of smile that wasn’t really a smile, leaning way too close, talking like she was supposed to be flattered he even remembered her name. She had been dodging his attention all night. Subtle at first: stepping away, pretending not to hear, busying herself with her drink. But being subtle never worked on guys like him. Especially when they were drunk, bored and convinced you must be interested.

“So, how about you and me go somewhere quieter?” Jason asked for the third time, leaning his arm on the wall beside her head like he invented the pose.

“No thank you,” she declined with an eye roll and tried to walk past him, but he stepped in to block her path.

“Come on,” he said, breath reeking of beer. “Don’t be shy, we could hang out somewhere private without all this noise.”

“I said no,” she insisted, much firmer this time.

Jason moved even closer. “Why are you being so difficult?”

Because she was done. Because she was uncomfortable. Because she was alone in a room full of people. She glanced around the crowded living room. No brother, no escape, nobody she trust—

Her eyes landed on a familiar figure across the room, head of curls, rings catching the light as he talked to Gareth. 

Eddie. Her brother’s best friend. The boy she should have absolutely not wanted, but the boy she had wanted for years anyway.

Without thinking, she tried to push Jason away from her and stepped forward. Fast.

Jason’s hand catched her wrist. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

And that was it. She was done being polite. She yanked her wrist free, turned sharply and walked to Eddie, weaving through the crowd. He barely had time to register her approach.

Eddie was halfway through a joke with Gareth when she arrived in front of him, eyes locked on him, jaw set, shoulders stiff with a tension he didn’t understand. His brain short-circuited immediately. Okay, she’s just, she’s probably looking for her brother. Or maybe she lost something.

“Oh, hello,” he said automatically, smiling the way he always did when she showed up unexpectedly. His stomach did that stupid swoop thing it always did when she was within a twelve-foot radius. He told himself to look casual, cool, totally unaffected.

Then she grabbed him. Both hands in the front of his jacket, tugging him down to her, pulling him close with a confidence he had never seen on her before. Her face was close enough that he could feel her breath on his mouth. His heart slammed into his ribs painfully hard.

What— what the hell is happening?

His eyes went wide. “Uh—?”

She slid her arm around his waist. Tight and possessive, like she had done it a hundred times. Eddie stopped breathing for a second.

“Oh,” he said quietly, and his eyes widened in pure shock. “We’re… doing something.”

“Just play along,” she whispered against his jaw, voice shaking, adrenaline humming under her skin. “Put your arm around me.”

Play along— Play along with what?

Eddie hesitated for a few seconds, confused and taken aback what was happening. Eventually he managed to do as she requested and wrapped his arm around her back, drawing her even closer until their bodies were pressed together like she belonged there. 

She’s touching me. She’s never touched me like this before. Is this real? Am I dreaming? Don’t screw this up, Munson, don’t screw this—

Jason arrived a moment later, stopped dead on his tracks and stared. Eddie didn’t look at Jason, he only looked at her. Eyes dark, lips parted, like he was trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if she really just grabbed him like he was hers. His thumb brushed her hip, gentle and protective. His heart was hammering fast like he couldn’t believe she was actually touching him like this.

“What the hell?” Jason breathed out when he had arrived next to her and Eddie, whose fingers pressed now a little harder into her hip and chest brushed hers.

Eddie lifted his head slowly, eyes narrowing as he gathered a little more confidence in him. “You try to hit on my girl?” Eddie accused him, voice surprisingly intimidating.

Jason’s mouth dropped open. “Wh— your what?”

Eddie smirked, all teeth and unspoken threat. “My girl. The one you’ve been bothering.”

Jason stared between the two of them, flustered, and cleared his throat. “Didn’t know you two were, uh… together.”

“We are,” Eddie replied, his thumb stroking her waist in a way that sent heat straight up her spine. “And she said no. So maybe get lost before I make it real obvious you can’t take a hint.”

Jason muttered something under his breath and finally backed off. But Eddie still didn’t let her go. She could feel the tension in him, a storm barely contained, but his touch on her was gentle, like he was afraid she would pull away too soon.

When Jason had disappeared into the crowd, Eddie finally exhaled. Then he murmured, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded, breath trembling. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I just… I needed a way out.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a slow, shaky smile. “Well. Next time? You can just grab me like that again. I don’t mind.”

He said it like he meant exactly the opposite, like he would gladly let her drag him in front of the whole world if it meant he got to hold her like this again. She pulled back just enough to look up at Eddie, her hands sliding slowly from his jacket. His arm loosened but didn’t drop, like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that the moment was over. Her breathing steadied, the adrenaline faded and then her eyes softened.

“Eddie, thank you,” she said quietly. “For saving me from... him.”

His heart did something. A weird double-flip thing that felt like it might have actually knocked him flat. He tried to play it cool, like he always did. Or at least he thought he did.

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” He waved his free hand as if this was no big deal. “You know, acting. I’m a natural actor.” His voice cracked slightly in the end. “Totally just pretending. Yep.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You sure?”

Eddie laughed, too loudly and way too quickly. “Oh, yeah! Definitely. I mean, that’s obviously all it was.” He dropped his gaze, rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “Just helping out. Nothing else.”

Nothing else. As if the feel of she pressed against him didn’t nearly short out his entire nervous system. As if his arm around her waist didn’t feel like something he had imagined a thousand times. As if calling her ‘my girl’ didn’t taste impossibly, unfairly right. 

She smiled a little, stepping fully out of his arms now. “Still. It meant a lot.”

Eddie shrugged, trying to look casual instead of devastated that she moved. “Anytime. Seriously. You just, y’know, grab me and I’ll, uh…” His mouth struggled to keep up with his brain. “I’ll do the thing. The boyfriend thing. Or whatever thing you need.”

She bited back a grin. “The boyfriend thing?”

He froze. “Uh, no! I mean, not, not the actual— I just meant—“ He gestured wildly, rings flashing. “—the fake one. The fake boyfriend thing. That we were doing. Pretending. Absolutely just pretending.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then gently: “Eddie?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“Relax. I know it was pretend.”

Something flickered in his eyes. Relief, disappointment and longing all tangled together.

“Right,” he said with a soft laugh, looking down at his boots. “Pretend.”

She gave him one last soft smile and then turned and disappeared into the party crowd. Eddie stood there, frozen, still feeling the ghost of her body against his, her perfume clinging to his jacket, her fingers in his memory. Pretending. He said it had been pretending. God, he was an idiot. 

A fist thumped on his shoulder. Hard. “OW! What the hell?!” Eddie yelped, spinning around.

Gareth was standing there with a plastic cup of something neon-green, staring at him like he was the dumbest man alive.

“That,” Gareth said flatly, “was painful.”

“What was?”

Gareth scoffed so loudly it nearly drowned out the music. “Oh my god. Don’t do that. Don’t play dumb. I watched the whole damn thing.”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Th-the whole—?”

“Yes. The part where she freaking ran to you. The part where she grabbed you like you’re the last lifeboat on the Titanic. The part where you wrapped your arm around her like you were about to propose. The part where you—“

“Okay, okay. I get it!” Eddie hissed, cheeks flaming. “But she needed help, so I—“

Gareth cut him off with a look. “And then the part,” he continued slowly, “where she thanked you and you said—“ He pitched his voice high in a mocking imitation of Eddie. “Oh yeah, totally pReTeNdInG, just acting, nothing else, nope, none of that mean anything, haha!”

“I do not talk like that!” Eddie tried to defend himself but knew that he had definitely sounded like an idiot.

“Yeah.” Gareth took a sip of his neon drink. “You talked exactly like that and it was the worst thing I’ve had to watch all week.”

“I panicked!”

“You think?” Gareth gestured wildly. “She looked disappointed, man!”

Eddie’s head snapped up. “She did?”

Gareth paused and narrowed his eyes. He set the cup down with exaggerated seriousness. “Eddie,” he said, voice low and deadly earnest, “I am about to tell you something that might overwhelm your tiny goblin brain.”

Eddie leaned forward. “What?”

Gareth poked him on the chest. “She likes you.”

Eddie laughed. Then immediately stopped. “Wait. You mean like— like that?”

“Yes, like that. And you practically told her you didn’t feel anything back!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Eddie whisper-shouted, grabbing Gareth by the shoulders. “I was trying to be smooth! And cool! And—“

“You were neither of those things,” Gareth said. “You were like a baby deer on roller skates.”

Eddie groaned again, louder. “I blew it.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Then un-blow it! Go talk to her!”

Eddie shook his head violently. “No. No way. She’d never— I’d freak her out. She thinks we’re friends because of her brother. She’d never want—“

Gareth threw his hands up. “Oh my GOD. You’re hopeless.”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, rubbing his face. “I know.”

“But,” Gareth continued, softening just slightly, “you’re hopelessly in love, which is at least kind of romantic.”

Eddie stiffened. “I am NOT—“

Gareth raised his eyebrow.

Eddie deflated. “Fine. Maybe. A little.”

Gareth patted his shoulder like he was consoling a lost puppy. “Go find her before Jason the walking-red-flag tries round two.”

Eddie’s pulse jumped. He looked toward the hallway where she had disappeared. Then back at Gareth.

“I’m gonna puke,” he mumbled.

“Do it after you talk to her,” Gareth replied. “Priorities.”

—

The moment she slipped outside, the cold air hit her like a blessing. The backyard was much quieter than the house. Just the crackle of the fire pit, the distant music vibrating through the walls, and a few people smoking by the fence. She moved toward the shadowed side of the house, out of sight, finally breathing again. She closed her eyes and exhaled.

And then, there were footsteps. Fast ones.

“Hey—hey, hold on!”

Eddie’s voice. She turned, and he was already skidding to a stop in front of her, curls wild, breathing way too hard for someone who walked from the living room to the backyard. He looked nervous. Really nervous.

“Uh, hi,” he managed.

She raised an eyebrow. “Hi.”

Eddie fidgeted, fingers tapping his rings and eyes darting everywhere except her face.

“So, um… about earlier,” he blurted, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to, like, minimize anything, or make it sound like it didn’t matter, or like I didn’t care, because obviously I care, I mean, who wouldn’t care, you were uncomfortable and Jason was being, well, Jason, and then you grabbed me and, uh… that kind of scrambled my brain, which is actually still scrambled, to be honest, like eggs, you know? The fluffy kind, not the—“

“Eddie.”

He froze mid-sentence. “Yeah?”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know I’m rambling!” he groaned, throwing a hand in the air. “I do that because I’m nervous and I am very, VERY nervous right now, which I know is dumb because we’re just talking, but we’re not just talking, not really, because you grabbed me like, like that, and I haven’t recovered emotionally, physically, spiritually and you're also just so, so pretty tonight and—“

She stepped closer.

Eddie’s voice stuttered. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“You talk too much,” she said calmly.

And then she grabbed the front of his jacket again. 

And kissed him.

Eddie stopped breathing. His hands hovered awkwardly for half a second like his body was buffering for a moment. Then they dropped to her waist, gripping like she was the only real thing in the world. He let out the softest sound into her mouth, something between a gasp and a prayer. And then he’s kissing her back.

Harder.

He pressed her gently against the side of the house, lips warm and breath shaky, every part of him trembling like he was terrified and ecstatic at the same time. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he let out a broken sigh at that.

“Holy shit,” he whispered against her mouth. “Holy, are we, is this really—“

She kissed him again just to shut him up. This time the kiss turned hungry. Eddie’s hand slided up her back. Her fingers tightened in his hair. His mouth moved against hers like he had been waiting years — because he had — and he couldn’t get enough of her. He kissed her like he was afraid she was going to disappear if he stopped.

“Eddie,” she whispered against his lips, starting to feel dizzy.

“Yeah?” he breathed, kissing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the spot below her ear.

“I’m not pretending.”

He pulled back an inch, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. “You’re not?” he asked, voice rough.

She shook her head. “Not even a little.”

Eddie nearly collapsed. He kissed her again, even deeper this time, like he was trying to memorize every second—

“What the— HEY!”

Both of them jumped. Her brother stood ten feet away, holding a beer and looking absolutely scandalized. 

“Eddie!” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing with my sister?!”

Eddie’s heart stopped. His soul left his body and he almost fell over. Her brother stood there, frozen mid-step, eyes wide with full older-brother fury.

“What the HELL is going on here?!”

Eddie jumped like he had been electrocuted. He immediately let go of her waist and tried to step back but hit the wall behind him. 

“Uh, hey, man!” Eddie squeaked, voice cracking in a way that would be funny if it wasn’t tragic. “Crazy night, huh? Great, great music. Love the uh, atmosphere—“

Her brother cut him off, pointing at him accusingly. “Eddie. Munson. Were you just making out with my sister?”

Eddie’s mouth opened. Then closed. Opened again but nothing came out except a sound like a dying accordion. Her brother stepped forward, face red.

“Dude, what the hell? You’re my best friend!”

“I KNOW!” Eddie shouted back, hands flying up like he was surrending in a hostage situation. “Trust me, no one knows that more than I do! I am very aware of that fact!”

Her brother jabbed a finger at him. “So why were you kissing my sister?”

Eddie looked directly at her, full panic, pleading. Silent “help me, I’m dying” look on his face. But she was just watching this unfold with her arms crossed because honestly? It was a little hilarious. Eddie turned back to her brother and tried again.

“Okay, okay, listen. Okay, uh, here’s the thing—“ He gestured wildly between her and himself. “This wasn’t, like, I mean it DID happen, but it wasn’t— well, it WAS something, but it wasn’t something I planned, obviously, because, you know, that would be crazy, right? Like, insane. Unhinged.” He laughed nervously. “Oh god. I’m saying the wrong words.”

Her brother looked ready to explode. “Eddie!”

“RIGHT. Explanation!” Eddie yelled, panicking harder. He took a deep breath, pointed at her, then at her brother, then at Jason inside the house. “Jason was, uh, being a creep,” he started, improvising every word that came out as a stutter, having no plan what to say. “And then she, uh, grabbed me? And then I, um, hugged her? And then things kind of, happened? And then we were kissing because, uh, chemistry? Not the science kind, the— What the hell am I saying.”

Her brother glared at him. “You kissed her.”

Eddie’s voice went soft. Small. Honest. “Yeah,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “I did.”

Her brother stepped closer, jaw tight. “And you didn’t think to maybe, I don’t know, NOT do that?”

Eddie’s hands went up again. “Okay, in my defense, have you met your sister? Have you SEEN her? She’s, she’s—“ His voice squeaked. “—she’s very persuasive.”

She choke back a laugh. Her brother whipped around toward her.

“YOU kissed him first?”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

He looked at Eddie again, betrayed beyond reason. “Dude.”

Eddie looked ready to vomit. “Listen, I swear, I wasn’t trying to, like, betray you or steal her or disrespect anything or anyone or, I, literally I was just standing there and then she was there and she was touching me and my brain stopped working and—“

Her brother cut him off. “You’re not allowed to date my sister.”

She snapped, “Excuse me?”

He pointed at Eddie. “He’s my best friend. There’s rules!”

Eddie whispered, voice tiny, “Oh god, there are rules. Of course, yes, rules.”

She glared at her brother. “You don’t get to decide who I date.”

Her brother sputtered. “BUT EDDIE?”

Eddie held his hands up again, backing away. “Honestly? Yeah, I get it, totally fair point, I also vote against Eddie, terrible idea, cannot endorse—“

She smacked his arm. “Eddie!”

“Ow! Sorry! I panicked!”

Her brother shouted, as loud as he possibly could, “Inside. Now!” 

— 

The three of them ended up in an empty bedroom upstairs. Her brother closed the door with a dramatic click behind him. Eddie’s shoulders stiffened instantly.

“Sit,” he said, pointing at the edge of the bed. “Both of you. Now. I am not joking.”

Eddie sat first, awkwardly, legs dangling over the side. His fingers fidgeted with his rings, curling and uncurling like they had a mind of their own. She perched on the other side of the bed, arms crossed but trying not to grin. Eddie’s panicked face was priceless. Her brother paced in front of them, jaw tight.

“So,” he began, voice low and controlled but deadly. “You. Eddie Munson. Explain to me exactly what the hell was happening outside. And I mean every detail.”

“I don’t think you want to hear every detail,” she muttered quietly, making Eddie widen his eyes and stare at him with a ‘you are not helping’ look on his face. 

“We, um, well. We kissed. She kissed me. I, well I did kiss her a little more. And—“

“Okay, stop talking,” her brother grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. It shut Eddie up instantly. Then, he said now a little more calmly, “You know I’ve been your friend forever, right?”

“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice small.

“And now you go and make out with my sister in front of everyone?!”

Eddie gulped. “I, I swear it wasn’t supposed to happen like that—“

“So it was supposed to happen in some other way?” he asked, raising his voice again.

Eddie was afraid to say anything at this point, every word he would let out of his mouth would just make his friend angrier.

“She’s my sister, Eddie. She’s off-limits. And you, my best friend, are supposed to have a brain!”

Eddie panicked again. “I do have a brain! It’s just a little scrambled. Quite a lot scrambled. Like eggs.”

She rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at the entire situation.

“And you! You just let him? You’re in on this?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t exactly let him.” A grin spread on her face. “I kissed him first.” She stood up and walked right in front of her brother. “And he is a very good kisser too. Knows how to use his tongue exactly right—“

Eddie stood up, behind her, face red and absolutely mortified. A very awkward and nervous laugh escaped his throat, knowing that the more she talked, the angrier her brother would definitely become. “Okay! We do not need descriptions right now.”

“He knows exactly what I like,” she continued, voice purring. 

“You—“ her brother started, but she leaned back slightly, hands on her hips and interrupted him.

“Honestly,” she said, slow and deliberate as she started to provoke him, “would you rather have me go making out with Jason then, hm? Let him have his way with me?”

Eddie choked. He was standing there completely frozen, wide-eyed and hands hovering helplessly near his face. Her brother stopped mid-step and his jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?” he said with raised eyebrows, voice trembling between rage and disbelief. 

She shrugged, tilting her head innocently. “He was clearly interested in spending time with me tonight. I can go back to him if you are so against of me being around Eddie.”

Her brother just looked at her like she had just lost her mind. 

“Alright then,” you said, voice sweet, “I guess I’ll go find Jason then. Be with him. Because I’m obviously so off-limits with Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes widened so fast it looked like they might have popped out of his head. “What?! No, you— He— NO.”

Before Eddie could even attempt another protest, she spinned around and started walking toward the door. Her brother froze for a second, eyes following her. His jaw tightened and he opened his mouth, probably to yell, but then stopped. He turned slowly toward Eddie, who was now cringing against the wall, eyes wide. 

“Really, Munson?” he muttered, voice tight with frustration. “Really? Out of all the girls you just have to have your eyes and mouth on my sister?”

Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat. “Listen…” he said now more slowly and tried to control himself but he was still afraid that every word leaving his mouth could cause him a broken nose. “I can’t control the fact that I’m in love with her.”

That made her brother pause and freeze still for a second. Oh god, here it comes, now he’s going to hit me, Eddie thought. His heart had never beated faster than now.

“You’re… what?” he said, trying to process what Eddie just blurted out of his mouth. “You’re in love with her?” Eddie nodded quickly. “Since when?”

“Well, um,” he mumbled. “It’s been, well. Quite a long time.”

“Since when?”

“Since, like, since we were sixteen.”

“Jesus Christ,” her brother mumbled and sat on the bed. Eddie waited for a moment, a very thick and uncomfortable silence landing between the two of them, until sat on the bed next to him. Very slowly and carefully, fearing that he might get punched on his face or yelled at for any wrong movement. 

They sat there quietly for a long time. 

“I would never hurt her, you know that right?” Eddie said quietly. 

He let out a deep, frustrated breath out through his nose and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“Yeah, I know,” he finally mumbled and rubbed his eyes. This wasn’t how none of them had planned to have the night turn out.

“You know, I don’t think she was bluffing about going to Jason,” Eddie pointed out, both of them knowing that she was extremely committed to whatever she provoked and threatened them with. 

Her brother looked at Eddie for a long while, really looked and thought things through carefully. Eddie put a bit more space between them, waiting for the punch that still hadn’t come.

He finally let out another deep sigh. “Just… don’t do it in front of my face, alright?”

Then he got up, leaving Eddie sitting there alone. He came back soon after, dragging her by her elbow and pushing her back to the bedroom with Eddie, leaving the two of them alone as he returned downstairs to get another beer.

They were finally left alone, both of them quiet for a long while, until she spoke up.

“Soo… You love me, huh?” she grinned, hands clasped behind her back.

“I do. So much,” he confirmed quietly and cupped her face with his hands. “Do you… I mean, what would you want this… I mean, us, be?”

“What are the options, Munson?” she teased.

“Well,” he started, voice still trembling a little after the chaos just moments earlier. He lowered his left hand to rest on her lower back, pulling her a little closer against him. “The best and most ideal option would be if, maybe, you’d like to be my girlfriend.”

The smile on her face widened. “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said, letting out a deep and relieved breath.

“Yeah,” she repeated and pulled his face into a kiss.

Meanwhile, Gareth, who had seen and heard most of the shouting and arguing, whispered to himself: “This party is so much more entertaining than I thought.”

---

When she slipped out of his bed just before dawn, wearing only her dress from the floor, he was asleep, one arm sprawled carelessly across the sheets. Handsome, annoyingly so. Unaware she was leaving. The sheets were still warm where she had been laying when she opened the frontdoor, carrying her heels in her hands just in case they would make too much noise on the floor to wake him up. She didn’t dare to look back. This hadn’t been the plan how she was supposed to spend the previous night, but it had happened anyway. 

One night, one secret. A secret that walked, breathed and smirked.

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. That was the point. 

—

Weeks later, she stood frozen in some diplomat’s estate while her father straightened his tie for the seventeenth time. He had forced her to attend the gathering with him, something about "connections" and "family duty." She hated these parties and wished the night would be over as soon as possible, but she knew they would be here for hours.

“You look pale,” he muttered. “Don’t embarrass me tonight.”

She swallowed. “I’m fine. I won’t.”

She was adjusting her gloves, wishing she was anywhere else, when the room fell strangely quiet. A path opened through the guests, which meant someone important had entered. She only looked up because everyone else did and when she saw him, her heart dropped into her stomach.

No. Oh God. No.

The man from the bar, the one whose sheets she had fled, stepped into the room wearing a pristine SS officer’s uniform. Medals. Polished boots. Authority in every stride. He looked nothing like the relaxed stranger she had kissed senseless in the dark. Held her waist, pushed her wrists against the mattress and explored every inch of her body. He was dangerous now. Official and intimidating. Worst of all—

He noticed her immediately. His eyes widened the smallest fraction. Recognition, interest and amusement.

Oh no.

He excused himself from the cluster of officers and walked straight toward her and her father. Her lungs shut down and her hands shook inside her gloves. He stopped directly in front of the two of them.

“Ah, Hans Landa!” her father exclaimed and smiled. “Here he is, the man of the hour.”

Oh no. She hadn’t slept with just any SS Officer, but with the actual infamous Jew Hunter.

“Fräulein.”

That voice, she felt it in her spine. She had tried to forget that night. How she had been reckless enough to accept a drink from a charming stranger with sharp eyes and sharper tongue. How they had talked for hours and then did a lot more than talking. How she had felt like someone else entirely.

“Stand up straight,” her father hissed under his breath, nudging her forward a little. “Show some respect.”

She tried. God, she tried so hard. But the moment Landa’s eyes had landed on her, she felt the heat rise on her cheeks. Recognition flickered in his gaze — quick, bright and entirely too satisfied.

Her father extended his hand. “Colonel Landa, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Landa shook his hand with a polite dip of his head. “The pleasure is mine.“ His gaze slid back to her, lingering and savoring. “And this must be your lovely daughter?”

Her lungs forgot how to function. Her father beamed, completely oblivious.

“Yes, yes, this is my—“

“A delightful surprise,” Landa interrupted smoothly, his tone like a trap. “Fräulein, we meet again.”

Oh God, don’t say anything. Please.

She forced on a tight smile. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, Colonel.”

“Am I?” His brow lifted with polite innocence. “Forgive me, but I rarely forget a face. Especially one I…” A pause, just long enough for her stomach to twist. “…have encountered under such memorable circumstances.”

Her father’s brows knitted together. “You two have met already?”

“I, I don’t think—“ she stuttered.

But Landa stepped closer, offering his gloved hand to her. To force her to put hers in his, because he knew she couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion. She placed her hand in his, and his thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, a ghost of the way he’d held her down in that hotel bed. Then, he raised her hand closer toward his face and planted a single soft kiss on her knuckles, not breaking eye contact with her at any point.

Her pulse jumped, and she felt like she could faint any second now from the overwhelming situation. From his presence alone. His smile only widened. 

“A fleeting meeting,” he replied finally, releasing her hand. “One that ended far too quickly, I’m afraid.”

Her father’s suspicious expression softened into smug approval. “Well then, perhaps you two will have time to speak later.”

She bit down any protest that wanted to fly out of her mouth. Landa gave a polite bow.

“I would welcome the opportunity.”

Her father led him toward the study of their meeting. But before Landa followed, he leaned closer to her ear, his breath warm against her skin which sent tingles down her spine. The same breath she remembered on her neck that night.

“Do not worry, meine Liebe,” he whispered. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She stiffened, relief and dread twisting together. Then his murmur darkened, playful and dangerous.

“Though I cannot promise I won’t enjoy watching you squirm.”

He left her standing there trembling. Furious, mortified and, worst of all, still burning from the memory he refused to let her forget.

—

After Landa had disappeared into the study with her father, she fled to the far side of the ballroom. She downed a glass of champagne a little too quickly, felt it fizz down her throat and forced herself to breathe.

It’s fine. He won’t say anything. He promised. And yet her pulse still beated frantically beneath her skin, echoing the touch of his thumb on her wrist.

“Fräulein?” 

She turned to find a man in a crisp officer’s uniform standing beside her. Younger, softer features and eyes kind.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized with a polite smile. “I saw you were alone. Thought perhaps I should save you from the crowd.”

She stared at him for a while. “That’s, um, kind of you.”

He chuckled. “No need to sound so surprised. May I keep you company for a moment?” His posture was respectful, hands behind his back, body angled toward her but maintaining a proper distance. She managed to smile, gentle but a little nervous. The officer brightened at that, leaning slightly closer. “You look like you want to escape as much as I do.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” he admitted. “Events like these are easier when you know someone else who’s suffering too.”

She laughed, and the sound traveled farther than she intended. Far enough to reach Hans Landa. 

Across the room, exiting the study, his gaze snapped toward her so quickly it seemed instinctive. His eyes narrowed, not in anger but in silent calculation. The smile he wore for her father faded into something smaller, sharper. He watched the officer lean in just an inch. He watched her smile back, and something territorial flickered across his face before he managed to wipe it away.

He excused himself from her father, polite as ever, and began to cross the ballroom. Slowly and purposefully, like a man approaching prey that had wandered too far. The officer beside her didn’t notice, not until a sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere made him straighten.

“Colonel Landa,” he said, snapping to attention as Landa arrived with perfect posture and a pleasant smile.

“Good evening, Lieutenant,” Landa replied smoothly. “I hope I am not interrupting.” His tone suggested he very much was and enjoyed it.

“Not at all, sir,” the lieutenant said, stepping back just enough to show respect and maybe unease. 

Landa’s eyes drifted to her. He didn’t touch her, didn’t say her name, but his presence pressed against her like a hand on the small of her back. Guiding and claiming.

“I see you have found yourself delightful company,” Landa said, the smile on his face making her uncomfortable.

Her heart thudded. “We were just talking.”

“Indeed,” Landa murmured, gaze moving to the lieutenant. “I could tell.”

The lieutenant cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I should—“

“Yes,” Landa cut in softly, “you should.”

The man left quickly. Too quickly, as though some instinct warned him not to linger any longer. Once they were alone, Landa turned his full attention to her, head tilting slightly. 

“Your smile is very pretty,” he complimented. “I wondered when I would see it again.”

She swallowed. “He was just being polite. I was being polite.”

“Mm.” He stepped closer. Not touching but close enough that the warmth of him brushed her skin. “Perhaps. But I find myself unusually alert when someone else enjoys your company.”

Her breath caught. “Why?”

His smile widened, elegant, menacing and intimate. “Because,” he started, “I do not like to share.”

A small cluster of guests had turned their heads during Landa’s last sentence. I do not like to share. They hadn’t heard all of their conversation, but they had heard enough to make the air prickle with attention. Two older women exchanged glances. A pair of officers slowed their steps. Someone whispered. Landa noticed. Of course he noticed. And he smiled like a man who had found the perfect stage.

“Fräulein,” he said, lifting his hand, “would you grant me this dance?”

Her stomach twisted again. She opened her mouth, throat tightening.

“I—“

“Ah,” he continued quietly, tilting his head, eyes glinting with warning beneath the charming shell, “surely you wouldn’t decline in front of such attentive company?”

Her pulse stuttered. He was right, too many eyes lingered, expecting and curious. Declining would have made a scene, embarrass her father and invite questions she couldn’t risk.

She forced out a breath. “Of course, Colonel.”

His smile deepened, polite for the audience, triumphant just for her. He led her toward the dance floor with immaculate grace like a true gentleman. Every step was perfect, every gesture courtly and soft. And yet the subtle pressure of his hand at her back guided her like she was something he owned, not escorted. The music swelled, elegant, slow and intimate.

She placed her hand in his, and his fingers closed around hers. His other hand settled on her waist, not low enough to scandalize, but firm enough that she felt the claim in it. The hold was far too familiar for someone who was supposed to be a stranger. They began to dance.

“You’re enjoying this,” she muttered.

Hans chuckled under his breath. “Immensely.”

She stepped on his foot, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Leaving so suddenly that morning was unkind,” he murmured, lightly twirling her. “I had planned to make you breakfast.”

She stared. “You were asleep.”

“Mm. I woke. Eventually.” A teasing pause. “Imagine my disappointment.”

She wanted to sink into the floor. “Can we pretend it never happened?”

Hans’s dark eyes softened, but only barely. “Certainly we can.” Then his gaze dropped to her lips. “Though I will admit… pretending may prove challenging.”

Her breath caught.

“You are trembling,” he pointed out.

“I’m not,” she whispered back.

He leaned in just slightly, enough that anyone watching would think he was speaking sweetly to his partner, nothing more.

“I can tell when you are lying.”

She stiffened, jaw tightening. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?” His thumb brushed the fabric at her hip in a movement so small it could have been accidental. Except she knew it wasn’t. “You seem rather distressed whenever another man pays you attention.”

She kept her eyes forward, over his shoulder, refusing to look at him. “You’re imagining things.”

“Not at all.” His hand tightened a fraction, drawing her an inch closer. “I saw your face when the lieutenant left. You looked like a frightened little doe.”

“Because of you,” she hissed under her breath.

His lips twitched. “Exactly.”

She finally glared up at him. “Stop. Someone will see.”

“Someone is seeing,” he reminded her, lowering his voice in a way that made her skin prickle. “Half the room is watching us. They see a perfectly polite dance, a charming colonel and a respectful young woman.” His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second. “And they see that you are mine to ask. Mine to lead.”

Her breath caught. “You have no right—“

“I have every right,” he murmured, “to dance with a woman I have already held far more closely than this.”

Heat shot on her cheeks. Mortification, anger and the unwanted pull of memory.

“Lower your voice,” she snapped. 

He smiled. Beautiful, wicked and impossible to escape from. “As you wish,” he said, guiding her through a spin so smooth it left her breathless. When she returned to his arms, he held her just a touch closer, just long enough for only her to feel it. “But do not forget,” he whispered against her ear, “you accepted this dance.”

Her pulse raced wildly as the music swelled, trapping her in his arms until the final note of the waltz lingered in the air.

Landa did not release her immediately, his hand remained at her waist for a fraction too long. Just long enough for her to feel the weight of the gesture, just brief enough to be socially excusable. Then, with a courtly bow, he offered his arm.

“Allow me to escort you, Fräulein.”

She hesitated, only for a heartbeat, but enough for his eyes to gleam. Refusal wasn’t an option, not with so many people around them paying attention. Not when he was watching her with that infuriating mixture of charm and possession. 

She placed her hand on his arm, and he led her off the dance floor with deceptive gentleness, guiding her through the murmuring crowd to a quieter corner near the table with drinks.

“What would you like?” he asked, already reaching for the champagne.

“I can get my own,” she insisted, trying to reclaim even an inch of independence. 

He smiled and handed her a glass anyway. “And yet I am here.”

She accepted it, fingers brushing his glove by accident. She took a step back, trying to create a little more space, but he stepped with her, effortlessly closing the gap she had opened just for a mere second. Before she could say anything, her father’s voice cut through the noise.

“There you two are.”

She stiffened. Landa didn’t move, didn’t even pretend to look surprised. Instead, he adopted that mild, pleasant expression he wore like a mask. Her father approached, gaze sweeping from her flushed cheeks to the champagne in her hand to Landa standing just a little too close.

“I saw your dance,” her father said, smiling as though he was pleased. “Very graceful.”

She forced on a polite smile. “It was just a dance, Vater.”

“Of course. The Colonel is a man of good manners.”

Landa inclined his head. “You are too kind.”

Her father turned to her with the oblivious pride of a man who believed he was doing her a favor. “I didn’t realize the Colonel had taken an interest in you.”

She choked on her sip of champagne. “He hasn’t, I mean— that’s not—“

Landa saved her, or rather he appeared to. “I assure you,” Landa said smoothly, “my interest lies only in showing respect to your daughter.”

Her father nodded. “Well, it certainly looked like more than respect from where I stood.”

She nearly died on the spot. Landa’s smile sharpened just slightly, subtle and quick, but unmistakable to her.

“Your father’s eyes,” Landa murmured, “are very perceptive.”

Her father burst into laughter, assuming it was a harmless compliment. “Ah, nonsense. I just know how to read people.” Landa’s gaze moved to her for a second or two. Her father, still very much unaware, continued, “Colonel, I hope you will save her another dance later tonight.”

Her blood froze. One dance was certainly enough for her.

Landa didn’t look away from her when he replied. “Of course.” The promise in his voice was unmistakable. 

Another pair of officers approached them, starting to speak with Landa, which was a perfect distraction for her to quickly slip away from the men’s company.

She escaped to the balcony for air. She had almost convinced herself he wouldn’t follow, but then she heard the door open and close. Hans leaned against the railing beside her, hands clasped behind his back, elegant as ever.

“You are running from me,” he stated lightly.

She exhaled deeply. “I just… I didn’t want tonight to be awkward.”

He tilted his head. “It doesn’t have to be.”

She laughed bitterly. “We slept together.”

“Yes,” he said calmly. “It was lovely.”

She covered her face with her hands. He stepped closer, not touching her, just close enough that she felt his warmth.

“Fräulein,” he started with a tone that was almost gentle, “I have no intention of embarrassing you. Or troubling you. Or making you feel ashamed.” She lowered her hands, surprised. Hans met her eyes. “But I will tell you this. I am very pleased we crossed paths again.”

Her heart stuttered.

“Even if it’s inconvenient for you,” he added with a small, wicked smile, “I would like to see you again.”

She swallowed. Hard.

“Hans.”

He bowed his head slightly.

“Just think about it.”

And with that, he disappeared back inside, finally giving her some well-deserved break and space.

—

She needed something, anything, to steady her nerves after Landa’s constant presence which seemed to stick on her skin even when he was out of her sight. So, naturally, she reached for another glass of champagne.

And another.

And two or maybe four more after that, she didn’t care to count.

Getting drunk to get him off her mind was pathetic, and she knew it. But she also knew that she had been pathetic ever since the moment she had walked out of that hotel room before him even waking up. Rudely letting him wake up alone in that bed, even though it was meant to be just one night thing. It had been just one night, but his words of ‘I would like to see you again’ echoed painfully in her mind. 

The room grew warmer, her thoughts slightly slower, her limbs looser. The music swayed pleasantly. The soft buzz in her head made everything feel less sharp, less overwhelming. But it also made her laugh just a little too loudly at a joke one of the guests told her. Made her linger too close to the drinks table. Made her cheeks pink and her gaze unfocused.

Landa noticed, of course. He would always notice, his eyes and senses sharper than with any other man in this estate. Across the room, deep in conversation with her father and a group of officers, his eyes suddenly cut toward her like a hawk spotting a rabbit stumbling on the grass. His polite smile froze and he excused himself.

She didn’t see him until he was right behind her, voice slicing through her warm haze.

“Fräulein.” She was taking another sip of the champagne, but Landa snatched the glass from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

“You’re not the boss of me, I can do what I want and drink however much I want,” she slurred.

His hand closed around her elbow, not hard but still firm. Possessive and decisive. He pulled her away, far from the drinks and from the crowd, away from the curious eyes that had started to drift to her direction.

“Colonel, let go. I’m fine,” she insisted, though she stumbled slightly on the last step.

His grip tightened just enough to steady her. “You are not fine,” he said, voice low but sharp. “And I will not have you humiliating yourself or giving these men something to whisper about.”

“I’m not humiliating myself,” she grunted.

“You are close enough.”

He lead her into a quieter alcove along the wall, partially shielded by a decorative pillar and a tall vase of lilies. It wasn’t secluded, but it was private enough for him to look at her directly and for her to see the storm behind his restraint.

Her head swam. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” His jaw clenched. “You have had four— no, six glasses of champagne in less than 20 minutes.”

She blinked slowly. “You were counting?”

“Yes,” he snapped, “because someone has to pay attention to you.”

That shut her up for a second. She was clearly drunk, cheeks warm and eyes bright, posture just a little too relaxed for someone in such formal space. Landa watched her with a tight jaw and a tension he tried and failed to disguise.

“Fräulein,” he murmured, voice smooth but edged with warning, “you must behave.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, smile loose and tipsy. “I am behaving,” she protested, though she wasn’t able to stand completely straight. He exhaled sharply, lips thinning in that way he did when he was holding back more than he said.

“No,” he said quietly, leaning just close enough so only she could hear, “you most certainly are not. You are attracting attention.”

She giggled. “Everyone’s just having a good time.”

“Not the kind of attention you think.” His voice had changed, lower and firmer, carrying something she wasn’t used to hearing from him. His eyes flicked across the room, to the men whose gazes had been lingering too long on her during the event. She hadn’t noticed those gazes, but Landa sure had.

“Then what kind of attention, Colonel?” she asked and crossed her arms. 

Landa’s jaw tightened further. “I do not appreaciate,” he continued smoothly, though his tone was anything but calm, “the way certain men in this room are looking at you. Especially when you are clearly… unescorted.”

She lifted a brow. “Unescorted?”

“Yes,” he continued, eyes narrowing faintly. “You have no ring on your finger. Nothing to signal that you are spoken for.” He paused, voice dipping even lower. “It invites unwelcome interest.”

She stared at him, amusement bubbling up. “Hans… Are you saying you’re jealous?”

His eyes flicked to hers fast, too quickly, and she saw it. The flash, the truth. He didn’t deny it, neither confirmed it. He simply looked caught. So she grinned, too wide and too daring. The champagne made her bold, wild and unfiltered.

“Well,” she started, stepping just a little closer, “if you’re that bothered by it…”

His brows rose, suspicious.

“…maybe we should get married.” Landa froze, which made her grin widen. “You know, since you’re so possessive over me, even though you’ve only known me for such a short time.”

He stared at her for a heartbeat, expression blank. Not from disinterest, but because the entire machinery of his mind seemed to have stalled. 

“You,” he said slowly, eyes narrowing with almost offended disbelief, “are drunk.”

“Maybe,” she sang lightly, shrugging.

“You are very drunk.”

“Sure.”

“And you are making insane suggestions.”

“Absolutely.” She poked his chest, which was a horrible decision but funny to her tipsy brain. “But you didn’t say no.”

His throat worked in a swallow. His lips parted. He was visibly fighting several instincts at once. 

“Fräulein,” he said finally, voice strained low, “do not, and I repeat, do not tease me like that.”

“Why?” she grinned, leaning in just a little. “Does the idea scare you?”

His eyes flashed. “No,” he said now more quietly. “That is precisely the problem.” Landa inhaled deeply, regaining composure and smoothing the front of his uniform like he could iron the moment out of existence. “Now, I will repeat myself one last time. Behave yourself.”

She smirked. “Or what? You’ll propose first?”

His jaw clenched so hard she thought he might crack a tooth. “This is exactly what I meant. You must stop talking.”

She laughed softly, delighted by how rattled he was. “Make me,” she challenged without thinking.

Landa stared at her like she’d just lit the fuse on a bomb he’d been guarding.

“Fräulein,” he whispered, “I am—“

But he wasn’t able to finish his sentence when they got company. Her teasing smile was still lingering on her lips when a familiar voice cut through the air behind them.

“Ah, there you are!”

Her father. Arriving to them in the worst possible time.

Both she and Landa snapped their heads toward him. Landa straightened so fast it was almost comical. Posture almost too straight, hands behind his back, expression a perfect mask of polite neutrality. The only sign of distress was the tightness around his eyes. Her father approached, oblivious to the dangerous tension between them.

“I hope my daughter hasn’t been bothering you. She seems to have had a bit too much champagne.”

Landa opened his mouth to respond, but she was faster.

“Oh, Vater, don’t worry,” she slurred, swaying a little as she stepped forward, “the Colonel and I are getting married.”

Landa choked. Actually choked. A sound tore out of his throat that was absolutely not dignified, somewhere between a cough and a panicked inhale. He stared at her, eyes wide, color draining from his face.

“Fräulein,” he hissed under his breath, voice cracking.

Her father froze mid-smile. “I beg your pardon?”

She nodded enthusiastically, looping an arm around Landa’s. “Yes! He noted that I do not have a ring on my finger, so he will buy me one.”

Her father’s jaw dropped open a little. Landa looked like he’d just been handed a live grenade.

“N-no, she's, uh,“ He stumbled over words, horror in his eyes, not knowing how to save himself from this situation. “Your daughter is severely, and I mean severely, intoxicated. She is speaking nonsense, utter nonsense, I said no such thing. Complete fabrications.”

She giggled. Her father looked at them both in confusion, then slowly turned his gaze to Landa with an expression somewhere between confused, displeased and deeply curious. 

“We are going to have a spring wedding,” she added dreamily.

Landa nearly collapsed. “Fräulein, please stop talking,” he mumbled quietly under his breath. 

Her father was already staring at the two of them like he’d just walked into a disaster he wasn’t trained for. Landa stood beside her stiffly, sweating through every layer of his composure, while she swayed lightly, drunk and blissfully unaware of the social apocalypse she was creating. 

She suddenly gripped Landa’s arm tighter, eyes widening. “Oh, on our honeymoon you must do that thing with your tongue again. You know, when—“

“OKAY, I think it is time for your daughter to lay down and clear her head a little,” Landa interrupted a little too loudly, absolutely horrified what might come out of her mouth next. He had almost lunged forward, about to clap a hand over her mouth to shut her up, but he didn’t dare to do so, not in front of her father. Landa did not want to know how red his face was currently. Nobody, absolutely nobody, had ever managed to make him as flustered as he was right now. 

“But I’m not tired yet,” she whined. “I’m just about to have fun.”

“Colonel, I am so sorry for my daughter’s behavior,” her father apologized sincerely, extremely embarrassed as well for having his daughter cause a scene like this in front of such an important and powerful man as Hans Landa. “She has never behaved this badly at any event before.”

“But Vater, I—“

“Enough of your nonsense,” her father grunted. “You are embarrassing both of us with that mouth of yours. You have had way too much champagne, young lady.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am an adult, don’t scold me like I’m 10.”

“You are absolutely behaving like one,” he stated seriously and took a hold of her arm. “We are leaving right now before your behavior escalates any further.”

She yanked her arm off, but as she did so, she stumbled backward and was just about to hit the ground until Landa was fast enough to react and catch her before the floor did. His arms instinctively went around her waist, and she let herself to lean against his chest.

“Mm, this is nice,” she mumbled, her words barely comprehensible anymore, she was ready to pass out any second now. Her next words were a slur, neither Landa or her father completely comprehending what she was saying. “Hans, mmph, I’m sorry for leaving like that.”

Then, her eyes softened, unfocused and her head lulled to the side toward her left shoulder, her arms dangling limply.

“Mein Gott,” Landa muttered under his breath as he realized she had just passed out. Landa froze, holding her carefully, unsure what to do.

Her father let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea what has gotten into her tonight,” he apologized. “I hope she hasn’t ruined your night, Colonel.”

“Oh, do not worry about it,” he replied. He exhaled, letting out a long and relieved breath on a level that made his shoulders visibly sag. “Finally,” he muttered under his breath, tightening his hold so she didn’t slip, “she has stopped talking.” Her father gave him a look. Landa cleared his throat quickly. “I mean that respectfully, of course.”

He adjusted her in his arms, lifting her slightly so she rested against him in a secure, almost intimate position. His gloved hands were steady, careful and unexpectedly gentle. Her head stayed nestled against his chest.

Her father frowned. “Careful with her, Colonel.”

Landa arched a brow, offended at the implication that he would be anything but careful. “I assure you that I am fully capable of transporting an unconscious woman with dignity.” Landa looked down at the unconscious woman in his arms, her cheek pressed lightly against his uniform, lips parted as she breathed evenly. He swallowed.

“Colonel,” her father said, “perhaps we should get her somewhere she can rest.”

“Yes,” Landa agreed quickly. “Yes, very wise.”

He adjusted his hold again, careful and steady, almost as if touching something fragile, and turned toward the door.

“If she wakes up, she may be… disoriented,” her father said awkwardly. 

Landa let out a small, exhausted huff that was almost a broken laugh.

“You are going to be the death of me, Fräulein,” he mumbled as he picked her up in his arms.

—

She woke up with a pounding headache and vomit almost half way up her throat already. Her memory was a little blurry about what happened or what she had exactly said when she had been alone with Landa, but she knew that she had said something extremely embarrassing. Something which would surely make Landa give up on her.

But as she turned to look at the nightstand, she noticed someone had placed a glass of water there, along with a piece of paper. She took the note in her hand and read it.

“Fräulein. I must confess, your perform this evening, while entirely inappropriate, was most... memorable. Despite the chaos, the embarrassment and the occasional verbal assault upon my reputation, I find myself eager to see you again. I suggest a more private setting, where your charm may be exercised with slightly less destruction. Consider this an invitation, not a request.

— H. Landa”

Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. “Behold, the lair of forgotten dreams and half-painted scenery.”

She snorted. “This place smells like hot glue and sweat.”

Eddie clutched his chest dramatically. “Don’t insult my homeland.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, the small storage started to feel suffocative with door being closed. Eddie followed her, but as she tried to open the door, it wouldn’t open. She tried to rattle the doorhandle as hard as she could but it wouldn’t move an inch. Panic started to rise in her chest.

“What the—“

“What?”

“It’s stuck. I can’t get it open,” she said, eyes wide.

Eddie scoffed and tried the doorhandle himself. “You can’t possibly be that weak that you’re not able to open one damn door. It’s —“ But it wouldn’t open with his try either. “Okay, what the hell.”

She crossed her arms. “Who’s weak now, huh?”

“Okay,” he breathed out with a nervous laugh, “that’s fine. It just sticks sometimes, no big deal. Just need to use a little more force.”

He tried to slam his shoulder against the wood as hard as he could but they were completely locked in. He grabbed the handle again and tried to twist it but nothing happened. 

“Maybe, uh, maybe it’s jammed. The hinge is old but it’s, uh, it’s fine. I’ll just—“ Eddie rambled while she just watched him assault the door in several different ways.

“Great, we’re stuck in a damn storage closet,” she snapped. “Thank you so much, Munson.”

He turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “Oh, so this is my fault? You came here after me and was the one to close this door.”

“You brought me here in the first place!” 

Eddie kicked the door one more time. Nothing. He took a deep breath, not being in the mood to argue whose fault it was. “Fine, it doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, trying to think what to do. He rubbed the the back of his neck awkwardly. “Alright, so we are hypothetically trapped.”

She stared at him. “Hypothetically?”

He nodded. “Yeah. ‘Hypothetically’ in the sense that we are absolutely, one hundred precent trapped.”

She groaned, pressing her forehead on the wall. “Eddie,” she mumbled.

“Hey, it’s okay. Maintenance should come by in, like, an hour to shut the lights off. They’ll open it,” Eddie tried to assure her. 

She nodded, but her breathing was a little shallow. The small, crowded room felt tighter by every minute passing. Eddie noticed and gently touched her wrist.

“Hey, look at me.” She did turn her head a little to his way, and the expression on his face softened. “Is it freaking you out?”

She hesitated. “No.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, waiting for the truth.

“Maybe,” she corrected. “It’s small in here.”

Eddie scanned the room, crates of costumes, a ladder, a foam dragon tail, a stack of pillows. Then he patted the floor beside a pile of old stage curtains.

“Come sit with me.”

She did, sliding down beside him, knees touching. Eddie sat cross-legged, drumming  his fingers lightly on his boots like he was thinking.

“You okay?” he asked again, quieter this time.

“Mhm,” she mumbled.

Silence settled around them, less tense now, but more charged. And then there were footsteps. Heavy footsteps stopping right outside the door, and she immediately perked up.

“Someone’s there,” she whispered with wide eyes.

Eddie instantly jumped up and started banging on the door. “Hey! HELLO? We’re stuck in here!”

The footsteps paused but then turned, walking away from the closet. They looked at each other in complete disbelief.

“Did someone just… leave?” she asked.

Eddie sighed dramatically and flopped back on a pile of costumes. “Great, fantastic, amazing. We’re gonna die surrounded by pirate hats and princess dresses.”

She moved closer to him until his shoulder touched hers, which made him freeze for a moment. Just for a heartbeat, then he relaxed, leaning against her like it was the most natural thing to do in the whole world. After a long, quiet moment, Eddie glanced at her.

“You know, if I had to be stuck with someone, I’m glad it’s you,” he confessed.

She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. “Glad it’s me? That’s such a cheesy thing to say.” Eddie let out  a short laugh. “You’ve thought of the best options who you’d rather be stuck with in a storage closet?”

“Hey, if I was stuck with some basketball jock, I’d literally carve a hole into that door with my bare hands if that’s what it took to get us out,” he stated. 

Now it was her turn to laugh, which made his heart flutter a little. “Well, um, you’re good to be, uh, stuck with you too. I guess?”

“Ah, glad to hear that you’re not having the worst time of your life,” he grinned.

They sat there for a long time, but the janitor never returned. No footsteps, no voices, no help. Nobody coming to let them outside. Eddie had started pacing the cramped room back and forth, trying to figure out what to do so they wouldn’t have to stay there the entire night. 

“Okay,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So, the worst-case scenario, we’re here until tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened. “Tomorrow?”

He winced. “Yeah, I realized that, um, drama club’s on hiatus. No one else uses this room. And the janitor clearly hates us.”

She rubbed her face. “This is insane.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed with that nervous little grin he had been wearing half of the time there. “But hey, at least you’re stuck with someone charming.” She gave him a flat look, which made him raise his hands. “Okay, okay. Too soon.”

He walked around the room again, the pacing starting to make her go crazy. He was scanning the shelves, walls, anything. And then—

“Wait.” He stopped underneath a square metal vent cover in the ceiling. “Holy shit. Air duct.”

She followed his gaze. The rectangular panel looked just large enough to crawl through.

“No,” she said instantly and stood up. “Absolutely not. Eddie, no.”

He looked at her like she was just slightly misguided. “We’re not going to die here,” he insisted. “Unless you’re planning on resorting to cannibalism, in which case, please don’t start with me.”

She gave him a deadly stare. “I’m serious, Eddie. I’m not crawling through that.”

“I’ll go first,” he offered. “Scout ahead, make sure there’s a way out.”

“That’s not the problem!”

“Then what is?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s tiny. I’m going to get stuck. Or fall, or both.”

Eddie stepped closer, voice softening. “I won’t let you fall, I promise.” She swallowed, and he tilted his head. “Come on, it’s our only shot.”

She looked up at the vent again. Then at the door that refused to budge barely an inch. Then back at Eddie’s hopeful, wide-eyed face. Her shoulders slumped.

“Fine.”

Eddie’s grin was instant, wide, sweet and a little triumphant. “Attagirl.”

She rolled her eyes, but he was already dragging over a stack of sturdy wooden crates. He climbed on top first, checking the vent height and how they were going to manage to get up there.

“Okay, it’s reachable. You go up first.”

“Me?! Why me?”

“Because I need to lift you into it,” he explained, like it was most obvious thing in the universe. “You’re shorter than me.”

Her heart beated uncomfortably fast. “Eddie—“

He offered both of his hands. “Trust me.”

She took a deep breath and stepped closer. Eddie’s hands slided to her waist, warm and steady, which made her flinch and let out tiny, startled breath.

“Okay, um, I’m gonna lift you. Ready?”

She nodded. What option did she have anyway?

He bended slightly, his hands gripping on her waist, gentle but firm, fingers pressing through the fabric of her shirt. When he lifted her up, her breath catched, his hands inevitably sliding to support her, gripping the back of her thighs for leverage. Her pulse skipped, and Eddie went still for half a second.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, flustered but trying to play it cool. “Now step on my shoulders. Yep, just there. I’ve got you, I swear.”

She was shaking, not from fear but from the way his hands kept adjusting, guiding and steadying her like she was something fragile. She placed her foot between his shoulder blades, then the other, which made Eddie grunt.

“Damn, okay, you weigh more than you look,” he mumbled under his breath, not meaning her to hear that, but she did.

“Excuse me?” she scoffed. “You don’t say that to a girl.”

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to call you heavy. I just, your balance, I mean— You’re perfect, no sorry, forget I said anything,” he rambled nervously. 

She bit back a smile as she took a grip on the vent panel. “Eddie, focus.”

“Yep, focusing. Totally focusing.”

He held her legs tighter so that she wouldn’t slip, his breath warm now against her calf. As he quickly glanced up what she was doing, a thought brushed through his mind that he was extremely glad that she hadn’t decided to wear a skirt today. For both of their sake.

She finally pushed the panel and thankfully it gave away, letting her remove it without too much problems. “Got it!”

Eddie beamed at her. “See? Total badass.”

She blushed and wiggled forward, hands gripping the frame. His touch was lower now, because it had to be, but it sent a bolt of heat through her, making her freeze for a second. 

“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled under her.

“Y-yeah. Just trying not to kick you on the face.”

“I’ve endured worse,” he joked. Then, more quietly: “But please don’t. My face is my moneymaker.”

She huffed a laugh and pushed herself into the vent, metal cold against her palms, knees pressing into the narrow space. Once she was fully inside, she glanced back at him through the opening. He was breathing harder than he should be for someone who just lifted a girl once. She didn’t comment on it, he didn’t either. Instead, he gave her a small smile.

“Ready to crawl our way to freedom?”

She nodded, though very hesitantly. Eddie smirked.

“Good. ‘Cause if you get stuck, I’m legally obligated to rescue you again.” She rolled her eyes. The second she disappeared into the vent, Eddie pulled himself up after her with a grunt and a scrape of his boots. “Okay, hold on. This is not built for metalheads with broad shoulders,” he muttered as he squeezed inside.

The duct was barely wide enough for the two of them. Metal walls, dust floating everywhere, every movement echoed. She started crawling forward, slow and cautious, not knowing at all where the vent was leading them. Eddie followed behind her, on his hands and knees, the vent creaking under both of their weight. 

“It’s… cozy,” he said, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them.

“It’s basically a coffin,” she shot back.

“A cozy coffin,” he insisted.

She snorted. But as she turned around the next corner, light from the storage room didn’t reach them anymore and the way ahead of them turned pitch black. Now she had only her hands to determine which way to go, touching the walls around her and ahead of her so she wouldn’t slam her face against metal wall.

“Eddie?” 

“Right here,” he answered, voice much closer than she had expected. “You okay?”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Neither can I.” He shifted, metal groaning. “So we’ll just have to be blind little rats together. Nothing to worry about.”

She froze still for a moment, voice filled with worry and anxiety now. “Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“There’s no rats here, right?” When she didn’t get an answer immediately, she started freaking out. “Eddie?! Don’t tell me there’s a chance a rat is going to come sniffing my hand, especially when I can’t see anything.”

“Calm down, there’s no rats. I think.”

“You think?!”

“I haven’t crawled through vents before!”

She took a shaky breath and started moving forward again, slower now. “Okay, no rats. No rats at all,” she started mumbling quietly to herself, not fully believing herself but she had to stay calm. 

Eddie kept a steady pace behind her. She could hear him breathing, controlled and more serious now. The air felt too warm, too tight, too filled with Eddie’s presence. She reached a bend in the duct and stopped instinctively.

Eddie did not expect her to stop. His forehead went directly, and with some momentum, against her ass. “Mmff—!”

She yelped and her body reacted before her brain did and her leg kicked automatically backwards. Hard. Her foot connected with Eddie’s chest. He wheezed so loud the entire vent vibrated. 

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Eddie, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!”

She heard him coughing and wheezing. Then: “Yeah, I’m fine, just, just give me a second to, uh, to remember how to breathe properly.”

“I panicked! You scared me!”

“You stopped!” Eddie protested, voice cracking. “In complete darkness without a warning! What was I supposed to think?“

In the silence that followed, they both processed exactly what had happened. Her face heated and he cleared his throat. 

“Uh, sorry about the, um, collision. Didn’t mean to, y’know, face-plant you.”

She covered her burning face with her hand, even though Eddie couldn’t see her at all currently. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just, never talk about it again,” she mumbled.

Eddie laughed in the dark. “You know I’m absolutely never forgetting this, right?”

She groaned. “Eddie…”

“I mean, of all the things I thought would kill me, suffocating in a vent after crashing into your—“

“Don’t!”

“—very nice—“

“Eddie!”

“—structurally sound—“

“STOP TALKING!”

He snorted, trying not to laugh too loud. 

“Okay, okay. Moving on.”

She inched forward again, mortified and flustered and hyperaware of every tiny sound he made behind her. Eddie followed, now more carefully than earlier, at a much slower speed. She heard him mutter under his breath: “Note to self: maintain safe distance, do not sustain additional ass-related injuries…”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not making it weird,” she said, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

“Sweetheart, this is already the weirdest thing I’ve done all semester,” he stated, then thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “Not in the worst way though.”

Her heart beated painfully hard. And they kept crawling, blindly together to whatever was going to come next.

The vent stretched on for a while, the metal groaning under every shift of their weight. It was still pitch black, still dusty, still way too warm for two people who were definitely not calm. She crawled forward as carefully as she could, but then— Her hand hit something. A flat, cold, unmoving something. She slided her palm along it. It was a wall, a dead end.

She froze. “Eddie?”

He stopped behind her instantly. “Yeah?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

She heard him shuffle, settling his hands somewhere near her ankles. “What kinda problem? Like a spider kind? A rat kind? A I’m-about-to-die kind?”

“If it was a rat or spider problem, I’d be screaming and probably breaking your nose with my foot,” she stated seriously. She let out a sigh, voice turning into a struggling whisper. “It’s blocked. There’s nowhere to go.”

He exhaled sharply. “Perfect,” he muttered. “Just what my anxiety needed.”

He crawled forward, trying to get closer so he could feel it himself. The duct had been getting narrower for several minutes. Tighter, more cramped. And now it was barely big enough for one person to crawl. She felt Eddie trying to maneuver around her. She pressed her back against the metal wall to give him space, but it was no use, there was simply no space left. His hand brushed her hip, making him freeze.

“Sorry, sorry,” he immediately mumbled.

“It’s fine,” she whispered, breath shaky.

“It’s just, uh, narrow. Like, really narrow.” His voice cracked. “I swear I’m not trying to do anything.”

“I know,” she breathed. 

He tried again, shifting his body forward to get beside her, except there was no beside. Only against. His chest bumped her shoulder, his thigh pressed against hers, his breath ghosted over her neck. He stopped moving, so did she. 

He whispered, barely audible: “Okay. So, important update. I am definitely stuck.”

Her heart slammed into her ribs. “I can’t move,” she whispered, panic rising. “Eddie, I can’t, there’s no room—“

“Hey, hey, shhh.” His voice softened instantly, all teasing gone. “I’m right here. Not gonna let anything happen, okay?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see. His hands carefully found her waist. Not grabbing, not holding, just grounding.

“Can you shift backward even an inch?” he asked quietly.

She tried, the wall tapped the back of her head. “No, there’s literally no space.”

He breathed out slowly. “Then I’ll check what’s blocking us.”

“How? You can’t get past me.”

“Yeah, I can. I just…” He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna have to, um, squeeze. A lot. Around you.”

Her pulse kicked into overdrive. “You sure?”

“We don’t have another option.”

“I swear we should have just stayed in the storage closet until tomorrow,” she mumbled quietly.

Eddie managed to chuckle, his chest vibrating against hers. “Now where’s the fun adventure in rotting among bunch of costumes?”

“Just try to move on already so we can get out of here.”

“Right, got it,” he mumbled. 

She braced her hands against the sides of the vent as Eddie tried to move. He pressed closer, his body sliding along hers. Slowly, awkwardly, trying desperately to avoid too much contact. Which was impossible. His chest brushed hers, his shoulder glided past her arm, his hip bumped hers. Both of them froze at that one, a sharp inhale leaving Eddie.

“Sorry,” he whispered fast, losing count how many times he had apologized to her by far. “This is, uh, tight. Really tight.”

“It’s okay,” she managed.

He kept going. For a second their bodies were completely flush, trapped between metal walls, barely able to breathe. Great, this was how she was going to die — Eddie Munson suffocating her in the vents with his body squeezing her against the wall. He tried to shift up and over, but the vent refused. He couldn’t move, neither could she. They were both jammed together, locked in place.

“Okay,” he breathed, voice strained. “Update number two. We really are officially stuck together.”

“Eddie…”

“I swear this isn’t how I imagined being this close to you,” he muttered under his own breath, his brain not stop enough to keep those words only in his mind.

She froze. He froze as well. The silence that followed was thick, charged and dangerous. Finally, Eddie cleared his throat, voice low and rough.

“Just, don’t move, okay? If I twist wrong, we’re both face-planting metal.”

She nodded, unable to speak. He gently reached past her, fingertips brushing her arm as he explored the dead end with his hand.

“It’s not welded shut,” he murmured. “It’s… something else. Maybe a panel.”

She exhaled shakily. “Can you open it?”

“I think so. But you’re gonna have to let me get even closer.” She didn’t answer, she wasn’t able to, and he took her silence as permission. “Okay,” he whispered. “Stay still.” And with a slow inhale, he pressed forward. His arms slided around her sides to reach the blockage. “Jesus, this is intense.”

She laughed. Quiet, nervous, breathless. “You think?”

He huffed a laugh against her skin. “Remind me to never crawl through vents again. Ever.”

She whispered: “Only if you promise this stays between us.”

“Are you kidding?” he said, still trying to pry open the panel. “This is going in my emotional vault forever.” She almost smiled. Almost. “Okay. This thing isn’t budging. Which means we’re stuck with Plan B.”

“There’s a plan B?”

“There’s always a plan B.” Then, after a short pause: “I just came up with it two seconds ago.”

She sighed. “What is it?”

Eddie hesitated. “Well, it’s gonna sound stupid.”

“Everything in this situation is stupid.”

“Fair point.” He shifted slightly. “So, uh, we’re stuck because we’re facing the same direction. Maybe if we… turn?”

“Turn?”

“Like rotate,” he specified. “So one of us ends up on top of the other. Different angle, more room.”

She blinked into the darkness. “That sounds insane.”

“Do you have a better idea?” She didn’t, and Eddie sensed it. “Okay, just go… slow. I don’t want you to hit your head. Or knee me in the teeth. Again.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many, sweetheart.” 

Her breath stalled at the nickname, soft and accidental. He didn’t acknowledge it, maybe he didn’t even realize he had said it. 

“Okay,” he said, voice steadier, “lean back a little. I’ll shift under you.”

She tried. The duct creaked, making her freeze.

“It’s okay,” he assured, hands finding her waist again, light and careful. “Just trust me.”

She leaned back, and Eddie shifted, trying to angle his body sideways. The two of them wedged tighter, ribs brushing, legs tangled, but there was no room. He huffed a frustrated breath.

“Nope, this isn’t working. Hang on, maybe you, uh, climb over me instead.”

She went very, very still. “Climb… over you?”

“Yeah. Like, uh, like switching bunk beds? But horizontal? And awkward?”

“That sounds even harder.”

“It’s either that or we die in this vent and our souls haunt the drama department forever.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. How do we do this?”

He was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking hard. “Put your hands on my shoulders. Carefully. Then shift your knee over my hip — SLOWLY — and I’ll angle down a little.”

“Eddie—“

“I know, I know, it’s weird. Just go slow.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, just as he had said, and his muscles tensed under her palms. Eddie sucked in a breath, not saying anything. Then she tried to shift forward. There was so little room that her chest brushed the side of his head, causing him to go very still.

“S-sorry,” she whispered. 

“It’s, it’s fine,” he mumbled, voice strained but still gentle. “Just keep going.”

She nudged her knee over his hip, and his breath stuttered. Her body ended up pressing fully against his chest for a moment as she adjusted her hands. They were nose-to-nose, breaths mixing. Every shift of her weight slid against. He swallowed audibly. 

“You’re, uh, you’re doing great,” he whispered, voice embarrassingly quiet.

“Am I crushing you?” 

“A little,” he admitted but then rushed to correct himself. “Not that you’d be heavy, you’re not, not at all. Like, in a heroic way.”

She fought back a laugh and continued inching upward, slow and cautious. Eddie tried very hard to keep his head down and to the side so he didn’t collide with anything he really shouldn’t. Through absolutely no fault of her own, her hips slid forward a little too quickly. Eddie inhaled sharply, the sound catching in his throat.

“Eddie?”

“Nope, it’s fine. Everything is absolutely, totally, fine.”

“I’m not hurting you?”

“No! No. You’re not hurting me.” He cleared his throat. “You’re just very… present.”

Her face flamed and she thanked whatever God that he wasn’t able to see her face right now. She tried to lift herself again, moving slowly, her hand sliding up the duct for balance. In the darkness, her palm brushed Eddie’s jaw, and he let out the softest breath, barely there.

Finally, she managed to turn, her body shifting above his. That was until she was essentially sprawled over him, chest to chest, legs tangled, both of them wedged tight between the metal walls. Eddie was absolutely still beneath her, afraid to move a muscle, afraid to breathe too loudly.

“You okay?” she whispered.

He let out a shaky laugh. “I am hanging on by a thread.”

She laughed, forehead nearly touching his. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not freaking out.” 

“Oh, I’m freaking out,” he whispered back, throat very dry. “But only on the inside. Where you can’t see me.”

She smirked. “Ready to move again?”

“Yeah. Just, uh, warn me before you start, okay?”

“Why?”

“So I have time to say goodbye to my dignity.”

She smiled into the darkness and carefully, slowly, began to move again. After what felt like a lifetime of inching and scraping, she managed to get off of him and both of them were able to breathe much easier again. They were quiet for a while, out of words, until she spoke first.

“So, ready to head back to try another way to go in this vent maze?”

“Yeah, let’s move,” he agreed.

She led the way again, and Eddie followed behind her. After a while of crawling and turning around a new corner she found, she felt something change. The vent widened. She shifted forward and suddenly her elbow didn’t hit a wall anymore.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, finally feeling relief go through her body.

“What? You found something?”

“There’s, there’s space,” she stuttered. “Oh thank god there’s more space to move.”

The two of them slid out of the narrow duct and fell into a wider section. She flopped on her side, and Eddie sprawled beside her, gasping dramatically.

“Freedom,” he whispered to the dusty air. “Sweet, sweet spacious freedom.”

She laughed breathlessly and pushed hair out of her face. Light poured in from a slotted vent cover in short distance. Dim, yellowish, but enough to actually see. She blinked, then looked at Eddie. And Eddie looked at her. And they both froze because now—

They could actually see each other’s faces. His cheeks were flushed, his hair wild, his eyes wide with leftover panic and accidental closeness. She realized she wasn’t probably no better. Flustered, dusty, breathing hard, still feeling the ghost of his hands on her hips. Neither of them spoke for solid five seconds.

Eddie cleared his throat after a while. “So, uh.” He gave her a weak smile. “Hi.”

She burst into a tiny, hysterical laugh. “Hi.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just to be clear, I am… really, really sorry about all the—“ He gestured aimlessly toward the narrow duct behind them both. “—accidental, you know. Body stuff.”

She blushed so hard her ears burned. “I know. It wasn’t your fault.”

Eddie exhaled. “Good. Because I was two seconds away from just giving up on life back there.”

The closeness, the touching, the breathless apologies, the memory of all of it made her cheeks heat again. Eddie ran his hand through his hair.

“Just letting you know,” he started, “I’m never going to be normal about that.”

She bit her lip. “Me neither.”

Eddie snapped his head toward her. “What?”

“I mean,” she fumbled, “it was, a lot. For both of us.”

He blinked, slowly, and nodded, trying to play it cool. “Right. Yeah, for both of us. Totally mutual… trauma.”

She raised a brow. “Trauma?”

Eddie shrugged helplessly. “Listen, sweetheart, when your face collides with someone’s butt in total darkness, it does things to a man.”

She slapped her hand over her face in embarrassment, but then started laughing. As did he. Finally, for the first time they got stuck together, it felt okay. 

But suddenly, something shifted. A new noise. Voices, muffled conversations, footsteps. Coming from the vent exit. Both of them crawled toward the source of light and peeked through the slats. It led into a room. A room with people.

She whispered: “Oh no. No, no, no.”

Eddie squinted. “Is that the faculty lounge?”

Her stomach dropped. Teachers, staff, people who would definitely question why her and Eddie Munson were falling out of an air duct together. The metal plate covering the exit looked flimsy from the distance, but when Eddie pushed it lightly, the whole thing shuddered. And stayed put. He tried again, pressing harder, but it didn’t budge, and she realized why.

“It’s nailed shut,” she whispered. “We can’t get through.”

Eddie swallowed. “And even if we could, we really, really shouldn’t.”

Her eyes widened. “No way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We’re not—“

“—nope. Never.”

“—dropping into a room full of teachers together.”

“Agreed.” They both sat back from the grate like it might explode. Silence again, until Eddie gave her a sideways look. “So, forward?”

She nodded. “We keep going.”

Eddie sighed. “Of course we do. Because that’s our life now. Forever crawling through vents like deranged raccoons.”

They started moving forward again, now in the wider part of the duct, grateful for the extra space. They left the teachers below them behind and only hoped that they hadn’t heard the two students making noise above their meeting. It got dark again quickly after turning around the corner, and they were back in progressing in complete darkness. 

She moved slowly, carefully, testing every panel with her palms. Behind her, Eddie followed at a respectful distance. Or, at least he tried to.

“Okay,” he muttered quietly to himself. “I’ve got, like, a solid two feet back here, plenty of room. No more disasters, I’m doing great.”

The vent suddenly dipped slightly downward, which made her body to jerk forward. Her knee slipped, and she stopped abruptly. Eddie, who was crawling and muttering to himself without paying enough attention, did not expect her to stop. So, again, his forehead bumped straight into her. Again, now harder than on the first time because of the slight dip downward. The push caused her to fly forward a little, making her to land on her stomach.

And Eddie fell right on top of her legs, head now laying against her thighs. He made a strangled noise halfway between a yelp and muffled “Oh come ON.” She gasped in horror, neither of them moving from their spot in a long while. Her arms were tired and knees were hurting.

“Can we just give up,” she groaned, letting her cheek rest against the cold metal in total defeat.

“I told you not to stop like that!” Eddie grunted.

“I slipped! The floor dipped downward, okay?” she tried to defend herself. 

“Yeah,” Eddie wheezed,” I noticed.”

She turned to look over her shoulder, Eddie comfortably laying on her legs. “I swear I’m not doing this on purpose.”

“Oh, I know,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead and sitting up. “If you were, I’d have died long time ago.” She laughed weakly. “Okay, it’s fine. I just need to recalibrate my following distance. Like driving. But worse.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just a little concussed emotionally.”

She giggled. “I promise I’ll warn you next time I stop.”

“Yes,” Eddie said dramatically. “Please. For the future safety of my face.” Then, under his breath, softer: “Not that it was a bad place to land, just bad timing.”

“What?”

Eddie scrambled, his mouth again faster than his brain. “NOTHING! I said nothing. Move along, please. Crawl faster, go go go.”

She shook her head, smiling into the darkness and kept going, but her face was warm again. And Eddie, behind her, was definitely burying his face in his hands for at least three seconds before following again. The tension, the proximity, and the absolute absurdity of the situation left both of them flushed and mortified.

After crawling again for what felt like forever, her arms ached, legs were trembling and stomach twisted from hunger and panic. She pressed her face into the cool metal floor of the vent.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered. “I just, I need to rest.”

Eddie paused behind her. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “It’s okay to take a break. We’ll lay down for a minute.”

She groaned, flattening herself on the vent floor. “Good, I’m done moving. For, like, ten minutes. Or an hour. Forever.”

Eddie exhaled and shifted. The wider duct gave him room to lie down on his side next to her without having to press against her like before. Finally, some breathing room. Both of them lay there in the dark vent, trying to catch their breath after the exhausting crawl, and the tension from everything that had happened there was still lingering in the air.

She let out a small, wry laugh. “You know,” she murmured, voice teasing. “No guy has ever touched basically every part of my body before having gone to at least few dates and bought me flowers.”

There was a pause. Eddie’s eyes widened and face heated up. “I didn’t, uh, I mean that was completely accidental!”

She smirked faintly, amused by how flustered he had gotten. “I know,” she said softly. “I’m just saying that’s a unique skill.”

He cleared his throat nervously, fumbling with his hands. “I, um, I think ‘skill’ might be a strong word. ‘Accidentally competent’, maybe?”

She laughed quietly, covering her mouth. “I’ll give you that one,” she teased. “Accidentally competent Eddie Munson.”

He groaned. “Stop laughing at me, I am literally dying of embarrassment in this vent.”

She reached over slightly in the dark, brushing against him, careful and deliberate this time. “You’re fine,” she whispered, voice gentle but still teasing. “Totally fine. Just, maybe, keep the ‘accidental’ part to a minimum next time.”

Eddie swallowed audibly. “Yeah, next time, absolutely. Totally. Definitely.”

He shifted slightly, still flushed and flustered, and she could feel him trying very hard not to touch her again, but she knew he was painfully aware of every inch of space between them.

“And,” she whispered, voice softening, “I’ll forgive you. Just this once.”

He exhaled sharply, like he had been holding his breath for an hour. “Thank… you,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “And, for the record, I’m not trying to make this weird. Promise.”

She chuckled. “This has been weird ever since I stepped in that closet with you anyway.”

They both laughed, the sound echoing in the vent. For a moment, the darkness felt a little warmer, a little safer, and a lot more intimate than before.

When they continued their way forward after gaining a little more energy, Eddie crawled now ahead of her. Both of them were exhausted, bruised, dirty, and fed up with the maze of metal tunnels. He suddenly stopped.

“Wait, wait, I think I see something.”

She moved beside him and spotted a faint rectangle of light ahead — a vent cover. A real exit. She could almost cry from relief. But as they got closer, they heard voices. Very familiar, very loud voices.

“Dude, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“That’s easy for you to say!”

“Mike, seriously, you’re being dramatic—“

Eddie pressed his eye to the slits of the vent cover. “Oh, fantastic,” he muttered. “Just what we needed.”

“Who is it?”

“Steve, Dustin and Wheeler. And they’re having some extremely private argument about… god, I don’t even know.”

Eddie knocked on the metal plate, making it rattle loudly. All three boys SCREAMED. There was immediately chaos stirring below. 

“What the—“

“The ceiling is talking!”

“Nope. No. Absolutely not!”

Eddie knocked again, harder. “Hey! Dipshits! Please get this thing open! We’re really tired and desperately want out!”

Dead silence. Then Dustin shouts, “EDDIE? Why are you in the ceiling!?”

She shouted back, “We got stuck!”

Mike yelled, “Why are YOU with him in the ceiling?!”

Dustin screamed, “Are you guys in danger?! Do you need a rope?! Steve, get a rope!”

“There is no rope,” Steve hissed.

Eddie slammed his palm against the vent. “GUYS. Focus. Open the vent. We are sweaty, hungry and emotionally damaged.”

Steve reached up for the vent cover and pulled. It rattled and screeched. But it didn’t open. 

Eddie groaned loudly. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die here. This is it. Death by ventilation system.”

She shoved him lightly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” he snapped. “My entire life just flashed before my eyes and it was 90% you accidentally injuring me.”

Before she could reply, Steve gave a mighty yank and the vent cover flew off — right on his face.

“Ow! Son of a —“

Dustin cheered. “We did it!”

Mike muttered, “Steve, you’re bleeding.”

Steve ignored him and yelled at the two in the vent. “Now, get out of the ceiling.”

Eddie looked at her. “Ladies first.”

“You’re going first,” she said instantly.

“Nope. You go.”

“You go.”

Steve, Dustin and Mike watched this argument happen for several seconds. Steve groaned loudly. “Oh my god, please, just someone jump out before I bleed on something important.”

“Fine,” Eddie mumbled. He looked down through the opening, wincing at the drop. “Not too bad.” He twisted his body, dropped out and landed with a grunt, knees bending.

Mike yelped, “Dude, are you okay?!”

Eddie gave a thumbs up he definitely didn’t mean. “Totally! Graceful as always.”

She crawled to the opening, and her stomach flipped as she looked down.  “That’s not safe,” she muttered. “That’s absolutely not safe. I’m going to break something. Probably my legs. Or skull. Or both.”

Eddie dusted himself off and stood directly below her. “I got you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t trust that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you fall walking on flat ground,” she stated seriously.

Dustin snorted loudly, Mike nodded in agreement and Steve only sighed. Eddie put his hand dramatically over his heart.

“Sweetheart, I promise I will not drop you.”

“You say that,” she argued, “but gravity exists.”

“Come on,” he said, arms out. “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

She hesitated, longer than she should have. Long enough for all the other three boys to get uncomfortable. 

“Just, jump!” Dustin shouted. “We’ve seen him catch falling dice mid-air.”

Finally, she let out a defeated groan. “Fine. But if you drop me, Eddie—“

“I won’t,” he instantly said, soft this time. And she believed him.

She took a deep breath… and jumped. Eddie catched her immediately, but by no means perfectly. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking herself there in his arms. His hands grabbed the first solid thing he could reach to support her. Which, unfortunately, was her ass. Both hands, full grab. 

Both of them froze, but then Eddie smirked up at her, voice low and way too proud: “Well. Hello there, sweetheart.”

She stared down at him, mortified but also slightly breathless. 

“Eddie. Let me down.” He was silent for a moment, so she had to repeat herself, voice louder this time. “Eddie, you’re invading my ass for like the third or fourth time today.”

His eyes widened, and he tried to carefully adjust his hands but that was the only way to hold you up at that moment.

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” he whisper-shouted.

Steve, Dustin and Mike were frozen in absolute shock. Dustin finally croaked, “What the hell is happening?”

“What the hell have you been doing in the ceiling?” Steve asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer or not.

Eddie glared up at her. “This is not my fault.”

“You told me to jump!”

“You didn’t have to tackle me!”

“I did NOT—“

Steve interrupted, throwing his hands up. “OKAY. Someone explain right now what’s going on.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Please put me down,” she mumbled.

Eddie exhaled, lowered her gently, and inched away like he had been just holding radioactive material. The boys stared at the two of them, mouths hanging open.

Dustin pointed at Eddie. “Answers. Now.”

Mike nodded. “All of them.”

Steve crossed his arms. “And they better be good.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but absolutely nothing came out. He exchanged looks with her, each trying to read the other’s mind how much they were exactly willing to share from their little adventure to the boys waiting impatiently in front of them. 

“We, um, we got stuck in a closet,” Eddie explained vaguely. “That’s all.”

“Yeah, that’s all,” she agreed, though too quickly to sound convincing enough.

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