“Hey…” Nancy’s voice shifts you back into the present. She’s standing at the foot of your bed, soda bottle in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. You lift your jaw just enough to acknowledge her presence, eyes quickly scanning the scene.

“Your mom said you hadn’t been out much, so I wanted to bring your favorite. Chicken sandwich, extra pickles, no tomato, right? And a Coke, of course.”

You turn your head away, nodding once. “Yeah, that’s great. Thanks, Nance.”

She half-smiles, placing the contents onto your crowded nightstand and slowly approaching you, kneeling on the floor. “We all miss you, y’know? I know school starting tomorrow may be hard, but I think you should try to go.” 

She means well; you can tell that much. Nancy would never try to make you do something out of her own selfish desires. And, to a point, she is right. You have a couple more months of school left; then you never have to step foot in Hawkins High ever again. 

If only it were that simple, though.

Because now, not only do you have to attend school with the same assholes who make your life a living hell, you now have to do it alone. Sure, you have the party, but it’s not the same. 

Nobody's going to walk down the hallways holding your hand, obnoxiously loud and completely unashamed of it. Nobody's going to lean against your locker and make stupid comments just to get a smile out of you. Nobody's going to slip notes into your textbooks or steal fries off your lunch tray while insisting he was "saving you from yourself."

Nobody's going to be there. 

The realization still hits you at random. Like a punch. Like a car crash. Like waking up every morning and having to remember all over again.

Nancy watches your face carefully; she's always been good at reading people.

"You don't have to stay all day," she says softly. "Just... maybe try first period. See how it feels."

You let out a dry laugh. "See how it feels?"

Nancy's shoulders sink slightly. "I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant." Your eyes stay fixed on the wall. "It's just funny."

The word funny comes out sounding anything but. "You know what's gonna happen tomorrow?"

Nancy doesn't answer.

"People are gonna stare."

Your throat tightens.

"They're gonna whisper."

You look down at your hands.

"And they're gonna talk about him."

The room falls silent, because you both know exactly who him is. Not Eddie the person. Not Eddie who spent three hours teaching Dustin how to play guitar. Not Eddie who drove halfway across Indiana because you casually mentioned wanting to see a meteor shower.

No.

They're going to talk about Eddie Munson. The freak. The murderer. The devil worshipper. The missing suspect. The monster. The version of him Hawkins created because the truth was too complicated.

Nancy looks away first. You hate that; you hate when people do that. When they can't even argue because they know you're right.

"He isn't dead." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

Nancy freezes. Because nobody talks about it, not really. The Party knows. Steve knows. Robin knows. Nancy knows. Your parents know because they had to. And that's it.

The secret sits between all of you like a loaded gun. Two states away. In a hospital room. Machines breathing and blinking and keeping time. Eddie Munson: twenty feet from life, twenty feet from death. And nobody knows which direction he's moving.

"He isn't dead," you repeat quietly.

Nancy's eyes soften. "I know."

"No, you don't." The words come out sharper than intended. You immediately see the hurt flash across her face.

But you're too tired to apologize. Too angry. Too exhausted. Too everything.

"Everyone keeps acting like he's gone."

"Nobody thinks that."

"You do."

Nancy shakes her head. "I don't."

"You do." Your voice cracks. The first crack all day, the first sign that maybe the anger isn't holding as well as you thought. "Because every time someone talks about him, they use the past tense."

Nancy goes silent. 

"'He was funny.'" Your eyes burn.

"'He was brave.'" Your fingers curl into the blanket.

"'He loved you.'" A laugh escapes you. "Like he's already dead."

You stare at the ceiling while Nancy stares at the floor. And neither of you says anything for a long moment.

Finally, she speaks first, "Have you talked to Dustin?"

You immediately scoff. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't want to talk."

Nancy gives you a look. "Dustin always wants to talk."

You shake your head. "Not anymore."

And that's the worst part, because Dustin Henderson used to talk constantly. Now every conversation feels like pulling teeth.

Every answer is one word. Every smile is fake. Every joke sounds rehearsed. The kid who used to light up every room he walked into now looks permanently pissed off at the world. You understand why, you really do. Because every morning you wake up angry too.

Angry at Vecna. Angry at Hawkins. Angry at the government. Angry at every stupid machine keeping Eddie alive while refusing to wake him up.

Some days you're even angry at him. For being brave. For being stupid. For staying behind. For making the choice he made. But it wouldn’t be Eddie without some stupid decisions, right? 

A month into the school year, you'd developed a routine. Not because things had gotten easier, just because people could get used to almost anything, even misery.

You woke up. You got dressed. You ignored your reflection. You went to school. You came home. You stared at the ceiling until sleep finally dragged you under, then you did it all again.

The hallways of Hawkins High felt different now. People had moved on from the "earthquake", from the deaths. From the nightmares...at least on the surface.

But grief had settled into the cracks of everything. You saw it every time you looked at Dustin. At first, everyone had hovered around him. Mike. Lucas. Will. His mom. You.

The entire Party treating him like he might shatter if somebody breathed too hard. The problem was that Dustin Henderson hated being treated like glass. So eventually everyone stopped, everyone except you.

Not because you thought he was fragile, but because you knew exactly how much energy it took to pretend you weren't. You saw it in the way he walked through the halls now: head down, shoulders tense, jaw constantly clenched.

The bright-eyed kid who used to wave his arms around while talking now kept his hands shoved into his pockets. The kid who used to laugh loud enough to get yelled at by teachers now barely spoke in class. And whenever somebody mentioned Eddie, you saw it.

The split-second flinch to the immediate anger. The way he looked like he wanted to swing at somebody. So you stayed close.

Not hovering, just nearby, close enough to step in when necessary. Which, unfortunately, was becoming a full-time job.

"Dude, seriously, stop." You grabbed the back of Dustin's jacket as he attempted to launch himself across the cafeteria.

"LET GO OF ME."

"No."

"He's literally asking for it."

Across the room, Jason Carver's former teammates sat laughing at a table. One of them made a dramatic devil-horn gesture when he noticed Dustin looking. The others laughed. Dustin immediately tried to commit murder, again.

You hauled him backward. "Dustin."

"He called Eddie a freak."

"He always calls Eddie a freak."

"Exactly."

"Dustin."

"Let me hit him."

"No."

"One punch."

"No."

"Half a punch."

You sighed. "No such thing."

He groaned loudly as you dragged him toward the exit doors. "You're worse than Steve."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"It is today."

The second the cafeteria doors shut behind you, Dustin yanked his arm free. "Why do you keep stopping me?"

You stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." His face was red, eyes bright with anger. "Nobody does anything."

"Dustin—"

"They say whatever they want." His voice cracked. "They get to talk about him like he's some psychopath and everybody just lets them."

The fight immediately left your body, because there it was: the real reason. Not anger, pain.

You leaned back against the wall. "He thinks he knows who Eddie was. But we know the real him, and that's what matters"

Dustin looked away. "It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"No." His laugh sounded bitter. "It really doesn't."

The hallway fell quiet. Students passed by, lockers slammed, a teacher yelled somewhere in the distance. But neither of you moved.

Finally, Dustin muttered, "I should've been quicker."

Your heart dropped. "Dustin."

"I should've."

"You know that's not true."

"How?" His voice rose immediately. "How do you know?"

You pushed away from the wall. "Because if you had gone back, you'd be dead too."

"Maybe."

"No."

"DON'T."

Several students turned to look. Dustin lowered his voice immediately, but somehow it sounded even worse. "Don't tell me what would've happened."

You swallowed. Because this conversation? Is one that kept coming back, the one neither of you ever won.

"He was alone."

"Dustin."

"He was alone, and I was too injured to get there quicker."

Your throat tightened, because you'd thought the same thing. A thousand times. Ten thousand. Every night. Every morning. Every second in between. But you couldn't let him live there, not forever.

"You know what would've happened if you went back? If you tried to step in?"

Dustin crossed his arms. "What?"

"Eddie would've thrown you through a wall and made you leave."

His mouth twitched, just barely. The smallest crack in the anger.

"He would've. You know he would've"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Probably."

"Definitely."

"He would've called me a little shit."

"Absolutely."

The corner of his mouth lifted, then immediately fell again. But it was something. You'd learned to count those moments.

The knock came a little after nine. You almost didn't hear it.

The cigarette balanced lazily between your fingers as you sat on the front porch steps, wrapped in one of Eddie’s old hoodies despite the lingering warmth of September. The neighborhood was quiet. Crickets sang somewhere in the distance, and a dog barked a few houses over.

For the first time all day, your head had finally gone quiet. Then came the knock. Not on the front door, but on the porch railing. You turned your head and immediately sat up.

"Dustin?"

His left eye was swelling. There was blood on his lip. More smeared across the collar of his shirt. One knuckle looked completely split open.

"Dustin, what the hell happened?"

He shrugged the world's most Dustin Henderson shrug. "Got into a fight."

You stared. "A fight."

"Yeah."

"Dustin."

"What?"

"Dustin."

His eyes rolled. "Oh my God, please stop saying my name like that."

You stood up. "What happened?"

"Some guy."

"What guy?"

"Some asshole."

"What asshole?"

"The usual kind."

You sighed. Of course. Of course it was that. You already knew before he even said it. The bruises. The expression. The way he was trying way too hard to act normal. Somebody had said something about Eddie. Again.

You moved aside and jerked your head toward the porch steps. "Sit."

"I'm fine."

"Dustin."

"Okay, Jesus."

He sat. You disappeared inside long enough to grab a first aid kit from the bathroom before returning. The second you sat down beside him, he groaned.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"You aren't my mom."

"Thank God for that."

He snorted.

You grabbed his chin before he could protest and turned his face toward the porch light. The split lip looked nasty. Nothing broken, probably. Hopefully.

"You should see the other guy."

"Did you win?"

A small grin appeared. "Barely."

"Proud of you."

"Thank you."

"You shouldn't have done it."

"I know."

You dabbed antiseptic against his lip, and he hissed. "Ow."

"Good."

"You're mean."

"So I've been told."

The conversation faded after that. You finished patching up his knuckles while he stared out into the darkness beyond your yard.

Eventually he spoke.

"I miss him." The words came so quietly you almost missed them.

"I know."

Dustin swallowed; you could see the tension building in his jaw. The way he was trying to keep himself together. The way he'd been trying for months.

"He would've loved this."

You glanced over. "What?"

"The fight." A watery laugh escaped him. "He would've thought it was hilarious."

You smiled despite yourself. "He would've bought you ice cream afterward."

"Exactly."

"And told everyone you won way harder than you actually did."

Dustin nodded. "Exactly."

"I hope he wakes up," he whispers.

You looked down at the bandage wrapped around his hand. "So do I."

"No." His voice cracked. "I really hope he wakes up."

And there it was, the thing neither of you ever said out loud. Because hoping meant acknowledging the possibility that he might not.

The possibility sat in the corner of every room. Every conversation. Every hospital update. Every phone call. Nobody wanted to look at it, but it was always there.

Dustin wiped aggressively at his eyes, angry at the tears before they even fell.

"I just..." His shoulders shook. "I just need him to wake up."

Your chest tightened. "Dustin."

"He deserves to." The tears came anyway.

"I know."

"He deserves to see Wayne again."

"I know."

"He deserves to play another show."

"I know."

"He deserves—" His voice broke completely; the rest of the sentence never came out.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer immediately. No hesitation, no questions. Because some hurts couldn't be fixed, only carried. And for a few minutes, Dustin cried.

Hard enough to let some of it out, enough to breathe again. Eventually he leaned back, red-eyed and embarrassed. You pretended not to notice, a kindness the both of you appreciated. Then his gaze landed on the cigarette still burning between your fingers.

"Oh."

"No."

"What?"

"No."

His eyes narrowed. "You know what I'm gonna ask."

"Absolutely not."

"Come on."

"No."

"One hit."

"Dustin."

"One."

"No."

"I'm basically an adult."

"You are fifteen."

"Close enough."

You laughed. "Not even remotely."

He groaned dramatically. "Please."

You stared at him, then at the bruises, then at the exhausted expression. Then back at him.

"This is a horrible idea."

"Probably."

"A terrible one."

"Definitely."

"You better not tell anybody."

His face lit up as you handed it over, immediately regretting every life decision that had led you here. Dustin took the cigarette, trying very hard to look cool. Trying even harder to look experienced. Then he inhaled.

A second later, he nearly died. The coughing started instantly, while you doubled over laughing.

"Oh, my God."

"SHUT UP."

He coughed harder. "THAT'S DISGUSTING."

"You're such an idiot."

"Why do people do that voluntarily?"

"Excellent question."

Dustin handed the cigarette back as if it had personally betrayed him. You were still laughing when the phone rang, freezing you both. You exchanged a look, then stood.

"Probably my mom."

"Probably."

The phone continued ringing. You stepped inside, crossed the living room, and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

Static. Then, "Get to the Wheelers."

You blinked. "Steve?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Mandatory meeting."

"What happened?"

"Can't say."

"Steve."

"Can't say."

"Steve."

"Nope."

"What kind of mandatory meeting?"

Steve sighed. "The kind where everyone needs to be here."

“Fine.”

The second you walked into the Wheeler basement, you knew something was wrong. Not apocalypse wrong, not Upside Down wrong, just...wrong.

Everyone was there. Mike sat on the couch, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Will was beside him, staring holes into the carpet. Lucas and Max occupied the recliner, knees bouncing anxiously. Robin was pacing. Nancy stood with her arms folded. And Steve—

Steve looked like he was about to deliver the world's worst speech. The second Dustin entered behind you, the room went quiet. A sinking feeling settled into your stomach.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Nobody answered, which was answer enough. Dustin immediately turned around. "Nope."

"Dustin—"

"Nope."

"Dude, just sit down."

"Nope."

Steve stepped forward. "Dustin."

"What?"

"Sit."

Dustin looked at the room, then at you, then back at the room. His face twisted immediately. "Oh, my God."

"Dustin—"

"You guys are serious?"

You rubbed a hand down your face. "Steve."

"We just want to talk."

The words sounded rehearsed, which meant they probably were.

Dustin barked out a laugh. "Oh, this is an intervention."

Robin immediately pointed at him. "Okay, don't call it that."

"It literally is."

"It isn't."

"It literally is."

"It isn't."

"It definitely is."

"Can everybody just sit down?" Nancy asked.

Against every instinct in his body, Dustin finally dropped onto the couch, and you sat beside him. Steve cleared his throat, then immediately looked uncomfortable.

"We're worried about you."

Dustin stared, blank-faced and silent as Steve continued. "You've been getting into fights."

No response.

"You're getting detention almost every week."

Nothing.

"You skipped three classes last Thursday."

Dustin finally spoke. "Four."

Steve blinked. "What?"

"It was four."

"Dustin."

"I'm just correcting you."

You could practically feel Mike's patience evaporating. "Dude, that's not the point."

Dustin turned toward him. "Then what's the point?"

Mike opened his mouth, hesitated, then realized the only way out was through. "The point is you're acting like an asshole."

The room immediately went still. You closed your eyes, because there it was, the exact wrong thing to say.

"Damn it, Mike."

"What?" Mike asked.

"Dude."

"What?"

Dustin laughed. "Oh, I'm acting like an asshole."

Mike groaned. "That's not what I meant."

"No, it is."

"Dustin."

"No, go ahead." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Tell me how much I suck."

Nobody spoke, and the tension thickened. Lucas finally leaned forward. "Dustin, nobody thinks you suck."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because we're worried."

"About what?"

Lucas hesitated, and that hesitation said everything. Because nobody wanted to say it.

Nobody wanted to admit it. Nobody wanted to be the first person to acknowledge what everyone already knew.

You watched Dustin realize it in real time. Watched the anger drain away, and saw something else take its place. Something worse.

"You think I'm becoming him."

The room froze, and Mike immediately shook his head.

"No,” but it sounded weak.

"You think I'm becoming Eddie."

"Dustin—"

"No."

His voice rose. "You think I'm becoming some angry screw-up who gets into fights and skips class and ends up dead."

The word dead hit the room like a gunshot. Robin looked away. Nancy swallowed. Will stared at the floor. And Steve looked heartbroken. "Dustin."

But Dustin was already standing. "You know what's funny?"

Nobody answered.

"You all get to be worried." His voice shook. "You all get to sit here and talk about grief and healing and moving forward." The room fell silent. "But nobody asks me."

"I'm done."

"Dustin."

"No."

"Dustin."

"No."

And then he was gone, storming up the basement stairs. The door slammed hard enough to shake the room. You stood fast enough that your chair nearly tipped over.

"Seriously?"

Steve blinked. "What?"

"What?" The word came out sharp, months of anger suddenly finding somewhere to go. "What the hell was that?"

Steve's face immediately hardened. "We were trying to help."

"No."

You shook your head. "You were trying to fix him. And nice going, by the way. Real efficient work." 

By the time you got upstairs and outside, Dustin was long gone. You knew exactly where he’d be hiding, but you knew better than to provoke him when he was feeling this way. So, you leaned against the Wheelers’ house and sparked another cigarette.

You remembered how Eddie would always read you like a book; the mere sight of you with a cigarette tucked behind your lips always earned a “What’s stressing you out, sweetheart?” The thought of him tucking your hair behind your ear while he asked caused a teary-eyed laugh to escape you. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, popping around the side of the house. 

You laughed, pulling another long drag before answering, “Peachy.”

Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and leaned against the siding a few feet away. The cigarette glowed softly between your fingers. The sounds of the Wheeler basement drifted faintly through the house. You already knew everybody inside was talking about Dustin.

Trying to figure out what went wrong. Trying to figure out how to fix him, like he was a broken appliance.

"You know," Steve finally said, "the intervention wasn't just for him."

You looked over. "What?"

His jaw tightened. "It was for you too."

Immediately, your expression darkened. "Excuse me?"

Steve sighed. "I knew you'd react like that."

"No, seriously." You pointed at yourself with the cigarette. "Explain."

"You've been letting him get away with everything."

You actually laughed; a short, humorless sound. "Oh, we're doing this?"

"Yeah." Steve straightened. "We are."

You stared at him, waiting.

"He's getting into fights every week."

"He misses Eddie."

"Everybody misses Eddie."

"Right, because you and him were so close."

Steve stared you down for a second, then continued.

"And every time he gets himself into trouble, you're right there covering for him."

You scoffed. "Because somebody has to."

"No." Steve shook his head. "Somebody has to be the adult."

You looked away, taking another drag, trying very hard not to lose your temper; it wasn't working.

Steve continued anyway. "He smells like cigarettes now."

Your eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Steve."

"He smells like cigarettes."

Your stomach dropped, because of course he'd noticed. Everyone probably had. Dustin had only taken a couple of drags that night, but still. You knew where this was heading.

"You think I encouraged him to smoke?"

Steve gave you a look, a look that answered the question all by itself. 

You barked out a laugh. "Oh, my God."

"I'm serious."

"You think I'm corrupting Dustin?"

"I think you're both spiraling."

The cigarette trembled slightly between your fingers. You hated that he wasn't entirely wrong, and you hated it even more because he was saying it.

"That's rich."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "What does that mean?"

You looked at him. And suddenly all the anger you'd been carrying around for months rose to the surface; raw and ugly. 

"You wanna know what's rich?" Your voice dropped, dangerously calm.

"Maybe if you weren't trying so hard to play hero for Nancy..."

Steve immediately froze.

"...Eddie would've never had to."

The silence that followed felt radioactive. Steve's face went blank, then hardened fast.

"Don't."

"Oh, don't?" You laughed. "No, let's."

"Don't do that."

"Let's." You took another long drag, tilting your head back to exhale.

"I think the real reason why you're so pissed that Dustin is acting this way is that he's pushing you away. Which is funny, isn't it?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "While you were busy chasing tail and pushing him away, he found someone who actually cared about him and his interests. Kinda selfish to ask him to just fall back into your arms now, isn't it?"

His jaw clenched. "Eddie didn't have to play hero either."

The words hit you like a slap, causing your eyes to widen. "What?"

"He didn't."

Steve stepped closer. "He made a choice."

"He saved your life."

"He made a choice."

"He saved everyone's life."

"He made a stupid choice. And for what? The towns still fucked."

Something inside you snapped. The cigarette hit the grass; you flicked it away so hard it disappeared into the darkness.

"What did you just say?"

Steve immediately realized he'd gone too far. But it was already out there, already hanging between you. Already impossible to take back.

"He shouldn't have stayed."

Your chest tightened. 

"He shouldn't have been there."

"Steve."

"He shouldn't have gone back."

"Steve."

"He shouldn't have—"

"He did it because you couldn't!" The words exploded out of you. Steve physically recoiled. "He did it because somebody had to."

"That's bullshit."

"No." You stepped closer. "That's the truth."

His face darkened. "No."

"Eddie picked up the slack."

"Stop."

"Somebody had to save everyone."

"STOP."

The shout echoed through the quiet neighborhood, and you both froze, breathing hard. Months of grief. Months of guilt. Months of anger. All finally spilling out.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking absolutely exhausted.

"You wanna know what nobody says?"

Your stomach dropped because his tone had changed. This wasn't anger anymore; this was something worse, something bitter and ugly.

"Nobody says what happens if he wakes up."

You stared, not understanding. "What?"

Steve laughed, but there wasn't anything funny in it. "If he wakes up."

The words felt wrong, like hearing someone curse in church. If. If. You couldn't breathe. 

Steve looked away toward the road, toward the darkness, towards anywhere but you. "You think everything just goes back to normal?"

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. "Steve."

"No."

"Everybody keeps talking about him waking up like it's some miracle ending."

Your hands curled into fists. "Stop talking."

"But what then?"

"Steve."

"What then?"

His eyes found yours. "And before you say it, I know he's innocent." The words came fast now, years of frustration pouring out. "But Hawkins doesn't."

You shook your head. "Stop."

"Half the town thinks he murdered people."

"Steve."

"The cops still want him."

"Steve."

"And if he comes back—"

Your stomach twisted. "Shut up."

"—if he comes back—"

"Shut up."

"—he's still gonna be the freak."

The world narrowed. "Steve."

"He's still gonna be the murderer to them."

"Stop."

"And honestly?" The next words sealed his fate. "All it's gonna do is make everyone's lives harder."

You hit him, hard. The crack echoed across the Wheeler yard. Steve stumbled backward, completely shocked, one hand immediately flying to his jaw.

You'd never hit anybody before, not like that. Not with every ounce of anger in your body behind it. But this? This felt easy.

Steve stared at you, breathing hard, and you stared right back. Eyes burning, tears finally spilling over.

Months of grief. Months of fear. Months of watching the person you loved fight for his life hundreds of miles away. Months of pretending you were okay, gone.

"Fuck you, Steve." Your voice shook. "Fuck. You."

Steve didn't say anything. Maybe because he knew he'd crossed a line. Maybe because part of him agreed. Maybe because he saw the tears. You didn't care; you just turned and walked away.

And when Steve called your name, you didn't stop.

The ride to the hospital was a long, blurry mess. After Steve’s botched attempt at an intervention, you ran home and immediatley hopped in your car. The only person you wanted to see was five hours away, and nothing was stopping you from seeing him, even if that person couldn’t talk back. 

By the time you arrived, it was well after midnight. The familiar fluorescent lights of the hospital made your stomach twist the same way they always did. You knew the route by heart now. Past the front desk. Down the long hallway. Left at the nurses' station. Third door on the right.

You hated that you knew it by heart.

The room was dark except for the glow of the monitors. The steady beeping filled the silence as you stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind you. Eddie looked exactly the same as he had the last time you were here. Same pale skin. Same curls spread against the pillow. Same stillness that made your chest ache every single time you looked at him.

"Hey, handsome." Your voice sounded rough.

You dropped your bag onto the chair and moved toward him automatically, settling into your usual routine. The nurses knew you by now. They never stopped you when you came in. Half the time they left extra blankets in the room because they knew you'd end up staying all night.

You sat down beside him and reached for the brush on the nightstand. Carefully, gently, you began working through his curls.

"You're getting ridiculous, you know that?" you murmured. "I swear your hair is longer than mine now."

The corners of your mouth twitched. "You'd probably love that."

Once his curls were untangled, you reached for the small cassette player you'd practically worn out over the past few months. The tape clicked softly as it started playing. His mixtape, the one he'd made for you. The one you'd listened to so many times that every crackle and skip was memorized.

The music filled the room quietly. For a moment, you just listened. Then your eyes burned again. Because of course they did.

"You remember when you gave me this?" you asked softly. "You spent three days pretending it wasn't a gift because you were nervous."

A laugh escaped you. "You literally left it in my locker and acted shocked when I found it."

Your hand found his; cold and still.

"You were so bad at flirting." You stared down at your intertwined fingers.

"You know, I was thinking about that day at Lover's Lake. The one where you nearly tipped the boat because you were trying to impress me."

A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. "You swore you knew what you were doing."

You laughed through your nose. "You absolutely did not know what you were doing."

The memory lingered for a second before fading. And suddenly the smile disappeared, just like it always did. Because every good memory ended the same way now. With the realization that it was a memory. Not something you'd get to experience again. At least not yet.

Your throat tightened. "Dustin's having a rough time."

Your voice dropped. "He got into another fight."

You rubbed your thumb across the back of Eddie's hand. "I think he misses you more than he knows how to admit."

The tears came before you could stop them. "He acts tough about it. Tries to be angry instead of sad."

You swallowed. "Guess he learned that from us."

Your gaze dropped to the floor. The words started spilling out before you could stop them, like they always did when it was just the two of you, him awake or not. 

"Everybody's falling apart, Eds."

Your voice cracked.

"Mike and Lucas keep snapping at each other. Robin's pretending she's okay. Nancy barely sleeps. Wayne calls every week asking if there's any change and I never know what to tell him."

Your shoulders slumped. "And Dustin..." You shook your head. "Dustin's breaking my heart."

The room remained silent, only the music answered. Only the machines. Only the steady reminder that he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.

You wiped angrily at your eyes. "I'm trying."

Another tear slipped down your cheek. "I'm really trying."

"I keep telling myself if I can just hold everybody together a little longer, you'll wake up, and everything will be okay."

You laughed. The sound was pathetic. "I know that's stupid."

Your eyes closed. "Some days I don't even feel like me anymore."

The tears came harder now. Months of grief finally finding somewhere to go.

"I punched Steve." A watery laugh escaped you. "There. Thought you'd appreciate that."

You sniffled. "He said some really awful stuff."

Your voice trembled. "So I punched him."

Another laugh, another sob. "Honestly, you'd probably be proud."

You covered your face. The ugly crying started then, the kind nobody ever talks about. The kind that leaves your chest aching, your nose running, and your entire body shaking. You stared down at the floor. At your shoes. At anything except him. Because looking at him hurt too much.

"I miss you." The words came out broken. "I miss you so much."

You squeezed your eyes shut. The tears wouldn't stop. "I need you."

Your shoulders shook. "Please wake up."

Nothing. Just silence. Just the tape playing softly. Just another night. Just another conversation that would never be answered. You dropped your head, staring at the floor. Crying too hard to even wipe your face anymore.

Then, a rasp. Tiny, barely audible. Your brow furrowed, and you froze. The room suddenly felt too quiet. Another sound, a rough inhale.

And then, "Hey..."

Your head snapped upward and every muscle in your body locked. For one horrible second, you thought you imagined it. Thought exhaustion had finally gotten to you. But then you saw it. His eyes. Open. Heavy. Groggy. Confused. But open.

Your breath caught violently in your throat. Neither of you moved. Neither of you breathed. Eddie blinked slowly. His gaze wandered around the room before finally settling on you. Even exhausted. Even weak. Even after everything, he recognized you immediately.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, pretty girl."

A sob escaped you; fresh tears immediately spilled down your face.

Eddie frowned weakly, or at least attempted to. His voice came out rough and scratchy from disuse.

"No crying."

You laughed and cried at the same time, completely unable to stop either. His eyes fluttered slightly, still fighting to stay open.

But the smile remained. "No crying, sweetheart."

The next hour felt less like reality, and more like some strange dream you were terrified of waking up from. You cried, a lot. Eddie was awake for maybe thirty seconds before you burst into tears all over again, which earned you a weak, sleepy laugh and a very groggy, "Jesus Christ, sweetheart."

Then you cried harder. Then a nurse came running in because your hysterical sobbing had apparently convinced half the floor that somebody was dying. Then doctors appeared. Then more nurses. Then you got shoved into the hallway while they checked everything.

And the entire time, Eddie never took his eyes off you, like he was afraid if he blinked you'd disappear. The second a doctor finally confirmed that yes, Eddie was awake, yes, he was responding appropriately, and yes, this wasn't some bizarre fluke, your hands immediately found the nearest phone.

The first call was Wayne. You barely got through the words. "He's awake."

The line went silent, then you heard Wayne start crying.

The second call was Dustin. You didn't even bother with hello. "Get in the car."

"What?"

"Get in the car."

"Why?"

"Dustin."

A pause. Then, "...why are you crying?"

You laughed, the first genuine laugh you'd had in months. "Just get in the damn car."

Twenty minutes later, every person you knew seemed to be squeezing into a hospital room designed for about three people.

Robin was crying. Nancy was crying. Wayne was definitely crying. Lucas looked like he was trying not to cry. Mike had completely given up trying not to cry. Will was standing quietly in the corner looking like he might pass out from relief.

And Dustin? Dustin hadn't left Eddie's side once. Not for a second. Not even when nurses politely suggested giving the patient some room, especially not then. You stood near the back of the room watching as Dustin practically sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

"You're an asshole."

Eddie blinked slowly. "What?"

"You're an asshole."

A weak smile pulled at Eddie's lips. "Good morning to you too."

Dustin's face immediately crumpled. "You suck."

"Dustin—"

"You suck."

Eddie's expression softened immediately, months of missed conversations suddenly sitting between them. "I know."

Dustin looked away. His eyes were already watering again. "You weren't supposed to do that."

The room went silent. Nobody interrupted, and nobody moved. Because this wasn't for them; it never was.

Eddie swallowed. "You okay, Henderson?"

Dustin laughed, A broken sound. "No."

Eddie nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Then Dustin did something that would've mortified him under normal circumstances. He hugged him, immediately and without warning. Without caring who saw, practically throwing himself against Eddie's side. You quietly slipped from the room before anyone noticed. Or at least before anyone besides Steve noticed.

The hospital coffee tasted exactly how hospital coffee always tasted. Like disappointment. You stood beside the vending machine, staring out the window while the paper cup warmed your hands.

The sunrise was beginning to creep over the horizon. Everything felt strange. Good, but strange. You still hadn't quite convinced yourself this was real. Footsteps approached; you didn't need to look up to know whose they belonged to. 

"Hey, Harrington."

"Hey." Steve stopped beside you. "You hit really hard."

You barked out a laugh, and Steve rubbed his jaw dramatically. "I'm serious."

"Oh my God."

"I think you rearranged my face."

"I barely hit you."

Steve stared. "Nancy literally begged to take me to the hospital. Or the dentist."

You snorted into your coffee. "That's embarrassing."

"It is."

A small smile appeared on his face, the first you'd seen in a while. Then it disappeared.

"Hey."

You looked over; Steve shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry. For what I said."

The exhaustion in his voice sounded genuine. "I shouldn't have said it."

You stared down into your coffee.

"No." You swallowed. "You shouldn't have."

Steve nodded. "For the record."

You glanced over as Steve pointed toward the room. "If Munson finds out you broke my face, I'm telling him it was self-defense."

You laughed despite yourself. "You literally outweigh me by fifty pounds."

"And?"

"I'll hit you again."

“I’m sure you would.

Eventually the two of you made your way back down the hallway. The closer you got to the room, the louder the voices became. Robin. Dustin. Wayne. Mike. Everybody talking over each other, just like old times.

The second you stepped inside, Eddie's attention immediately snapped toward the door. Still pale. Still exhausted. Still looking like he'd been through hell. But awake.

A smile tugged at his lips when he saw you, then his eyes drifted toward Steve. His brow furrowed immediately. "Whoa."

The room quieted, and Steve froze. Eddie squinted, looking genuinely concerned. "Harrington."

Steve sighed. "No."

"What happened to your face?"

Steve pointed directly at you. "Ask your girlfriend."

A couple of weeks passed.

Not enough time to undo everything that had happened. Not enough time to heal months of fear and grief and nightmares that still woke everyone up in the middle of the night.

But enough for things to start feeling... possible again.

The doctors were cautiously optimistic. Eddie was still weaker than he'd ever admit out loud, still attending physical therapy, still complaining every single time someone reminded him to take it easy, but he was alive. Awake. Walking. Talking. Smiling.

Complaining. Which, according to Wayne, was the best sign of recovery they could've asked for.

The situation with Hawkins, however, was a little more complicated.

You'd gone straight to Hopper. He hadn't even let you finish your sentence before pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering, "Kid, I'm already working on it."

The whole story had been laid out in front of him. Owens had done what he could behind the scenes, Hopper had done the rest, and somewhere between paperwork, witness statements that would never see the light of day, and a whole lot of pulling strings that probably weren't entirely legal, the investigation into Eddie Munson quietly lost steam.

No dramatic public apology, no newspaper retracting everything they'd said, no magical moment where Hawkins suddenly realized they'd been wrong.

Just the charges disappearing. The warrants disappearing. His name disappearing from conversations. It wasn't justice, but it was enough.

Enough that Eddie could come home. Enough that he could enroll again. Enough that, after everything, he was finally going to graduate.

The morning he walked through the front doors of Hawkins High, the entire Party had insisted on escorting him in like he was some kind of celebrity. Dustin practically refused to leave Eddie's side for the entire day.

Eddie looked around the hallway with that same crooked grin you'd fallen in love with and whispered, "I still hate this place."

You laughed so hard you had to grab onto his arm. Months ago, you'd convinced yourself you'd never hear his voice again. Now he was complaining about school. Life was weird, wonderfully weird.

By the end of October, he'd started driving again. By November, he'd started playing guitar again.

The first time he picked it up, he'd only made it through half a song before quietly setting it back down, frustrated with how stiff his fingers felt.

You hadn't said a word. You'd just sat beside him, rested your head on his shoulder, taken his hand.

He looked at you for a long time before muttering, "You'll tell me if I suck now, right?"

You smiled. "I always did."

He rolled his eyes. "Brutal."

"You love me."

"I do." Then, after a dramatic pause, "But you're brutal."

Eventually the leaves started changing. The air turned cold enough that Eddie started stealing your jackets instead of the other way around.

One afternoon the two of you drove with no destination in mind until you ended up parked beside an open field just outside town. The grass had gone golden, the sky stretching endlessly overhead.

No monsters. No sirens. No hospitals. No machines. Just silence.

You spread out an old blanket and laid down first, staring up at the clouds. A second later, Eddie flopped down beside you with an exaggerated groan before immediately rolling over and pulling you against him.

You pressed your face against his chest, just because you could. His fingers absentmindedly combed through your hair.

Neither of you spoke for a while; you didn't have to. Eventually, he broke the silence, because of course he would.

"You know..."

"Hm?"

"I don't remember everything."

You tilted your head just enough to look at him. "What do you remember?"

He thought about it. "Bits."

"The bats."

You nodded.

"Wayne."

Another nod.

"I remember you crying."

You laughed quietly. "That doesn't narrow it down much."

"It really doesn't."

He smiled, then his expression softened. "I remember hearing your voice."

Your chest tightened. "When?"

"I don't know." His thumb brushed gently across your cheek. "It felt like every day."

You swallowed hard. "I talked a lot."

"I know."

"I told you everything."

"I know."

"I talked about Dustin."

"I know."

"I complained about Steve."

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I definitely know."

Your eyes stung. "I played your mixtape until I think I almost broke it."

His smile only grew. "I know that too."

You stared at him, confused.

"I heard you."

The world seemed to stop. "What?"

His voice was barely above a whisper. "I couldn't move."

"I couldn't answer." His own eyes had started to water now. "But I heard you."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

"I heard every story."

Another.

"I heard you tell me about Dustin getting into fights."

Another.

"I heard you complain about hospital coffee."

You laughed through your tears, he reached up and brushed them away with his thumb.

"And..." His own voice cracked. "I heard you tell me you weren't giving up on me."

You couldn't speak; your throat had closed completely. So you just nodded a tiny, shaky nod.

Eddie smiled, small and tender. "You didn't."

"No."

"You could've."

"I wasn't going to."

"You should've."

"I wasn't going to."

Silence settled between you again. Then you leaned forward until your forehead rested against his.

"I would've sat in that hospital room for another ten years if I had to."

He shut his eyes, and a tear escaped anyway. "I know."

"I would've waited twenty."

"I know."

"I would've waited my whole life."

His breathing hitched.

You smiled through your own tears. "There wasn't really another option."

He looked at you for a long moment before leaning in and kissing you. Slowly, with no urgency and no desperation. Just gentle, soft enough that it felt more like a promise than a kiss.

When he pulled away, his forehead stayed against yours. "I love you."

You smiled. "I know."

He immediately frowned. "That's it?"

You laughed. "I love you too."

"Better."

Another kiss. Then another. One pressed against your forehead. Another against your temple. One against the tip of your nose just because he knew it made you laugh.

The sun continued sinking lower across the field.

Wrapped up in his arms, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you realized this was something that would've seemed impossible a few months ago.

Who cutting onions!?!?!?!

I'm sorry, I had to write this, though. I had that fight scene with Steve in my brain for a while.

hope you all enjoyed :')

taglist:

@lnnn1n @youngbrokefab @ludachrissy @sisteramycatherine @izzycstairs @britttzy267 @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @sariahs-stuff @cciessuzi @lilyquinnmunson @julxsxx @kozume-ko @obsessed-eddie @doomdabss @leelei1980 @hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses @meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullsteve @peachpuffs25 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond @enne02  @ludachrissy @izzycstairs

@abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch

You laid sprawled over Eddie's bed, stomach down and feet kicked up into the air in they're usual position as you picked at your nails. School had just let out for Spring Break, and you were ecstatic, especially after the day you had. It felt ridiculous that just one day of peace was impossible for you in Hawkins High, and as much as you tried to brush off snarky comments and being shoved in the hallway and look forward to the break, it bothered you. But the waiting was over. Two weeks of doing nothing but smoking weed and Eddie, your best friend in the entire world. There wasn't any way anything could bother you then. You were sure of it.

Eddie sat on the other side of the bed, rolling up for your second smoke of the day, bringing the joint up to his mouth and licking the edge gently to seal it.

Eddie introduced you to the wonderful world of marijuana when you two were twelve and thirteen. The memory of sitting in the woods behind Hawkins Middle, heart pounding as the paper burned between your fingers. Hesitation took over your body as your eyes flickered to Eddie, crouched down a couple of inches from you. You remembered the way he studied your face for doubt, and his hand gently taking the rolled cylinder as he sensed that you weren't sure.

"No, give it back." You protested. "You said yourself—no one comes out here. I'll be fine."

Truthfully, you had no idea if you were lying, but you were sure of one thing: the trust you had for Eddie. The part of you that screamed it was an awful idea, and that even though you were an outcast, you weren't a rule breaker flew out of the window the moment Eddie said he had to show you something.

He reluctantly stretched his arm back out towards you and allowed you to take it from his hand, and with one deep breath, you swallowed and let courage take over instead. With cautious movements, you brought it up to your mouth.

You had no idea how important that moment would be. Not only for the fact that now, being a senior in high school, you couldn't live a day with out it, but Eddie had implanted himself so deep into your life that day that you were sure nothing could dig him back out.

As he finished rolling, the two of you moved in sync. You sat yourself up and moved closer towards him, the bed squeaking and dipping lower under your weight as you rested against the wall. Eddie crossed his legs and placed the tray on the the comforter below him, routine settling in as his hands wrapped around the kitchen lighter.

Your shoulders dropped once you settled into a comfortable spot on the bed. Muscles that you couldn't even tell were tense relaxed—something about the familiar ritual alleviated your anxiousness in a way that you could only blame on Eddie.

School measured up to be exceptionally worse than usual. You shuddered at the thought of having to explain the large F on your chemistry test to your parents, even though in hindsight, it was completely your fault. Reruns on TV dipped into your study time the weeks leading up to the test, and as you tried to make up for your procrastination one day in advance, you'd convinced yourself to surrender your hopes of getting a good grade. It was future yous problem, and unfortunately, future phased into present, and you had to deal with the consequences. You hoped you could put it off for a couple of days, or maybe attempt to fake your moms signature again.

You didn't realize the way you stared deep into Eddies comforter until the sound of him clearing his throat snapped you out of it. You blinked, head jerking up and a short hum leaving your throat.

"Are you going to babysit that the entire time?" The corners of Eddies mouth twitched into a teasing smirk as his eyes darted down to the burning paper between your fingers.

Your brows drew together briefly before you extended it. He took it between his own fingers carefully and led it to his lips.

"What's up?" The tone in his question came out raspy as he held the smoke in his throat. It filled the air as he exhaled.

"Rough day." A dry laugh withdrew from your throat, though there was a lack of humor behind it. The lingering smile slowly dimmed as you exhaled a sigh.

Eddie arched a brow in curiosity, a spark of concern gleaming in his eyes as he stared back at you. An indication of reluctivity and worry fell evident in his question, "Do you… wanna talk about it?"

You shrugged casually, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. You paused, eyes running over the bleach stains on your pants you'd acquired from washing them wrong. "Not really. It's nothing new, just same ole' school stuff."

An understanding smile tugged at Eddies lips. Part of the reason you and Eddie clicked so fast was because you both understood how it felt to be perceived in a negative light by your peers. Conformity felt like the only way to fit in, and sure, you'd tried it for a while, but with every small slip up, the gossiping would resume. Eventually, you just learned to live with it. Eddie had dealt with it his entire life. Before you, he'd never fit in anywhere.

The burning cylinder between your lips heated up as you inhaled it deeply, smoke building up in your lungs and burning your throat, causing a raw cough to escape your throat; your face turned a deep red as you fought for air, eyes squeezing shut, head shaking side to side as you try to gain your composure.

"Ah, c'mon, you're being a baby." Something felt consoling within Eddies mockery, as if every time he did it, it was him subconsciously saying that he sees you. Most friends that you'd attained throughout the years strayed away from playful insults, instead focusing on the more favorable attributes.

But not Eddie. Eddie saw everything. Eddie knew everything.

A final cough cleared your throat, eyes rolling as an amused smile danced across your face, "Not my fault you have shitty weed."

Eddies arms crossed dramatically and a scoff left his mouth, but despite being "offended", a hint of amusement flickered across his face. "Well, I always provide it, and you haven't once contributed to our smoke sessions, so I wouldn't complain."

Your gaze met his as the words left his mouth, eyes running up and down his frame as a smug expression dragged across your face, "And that's how it'll always be, because you love me. I'm also broke, so there's that."

Brows raising, Eddie protested light-heartedly, "I am, too."

A gentle deflated sigh left Eddies parted lips, shoulders dropping. You watched as his lips pressed together and curled into an almost-smile, eyes darting back up to meet his stare.

"But yeah, it'll always be like that. Because I love you." Eddies head cocked to the side and lines settled near his eyes as he grinned sarcastically.

Even though they weren't rare, every time those three words left Eddies mouth, your stomach erupted into a sickening flutter. It was strange—the love you had for Eddie never fit in a specific box. He was your lifeline—your justification for your heart beating. You'd always joked that he was your platonic soulmate and the universe sent him down from some ethereal planet to save you.

Suddenly, an enthusiastic gasp sounded from beside you, followed by Eddies hands coming together in a loud clap.

"I have news. Really exciting news." He shifted slightly and leaned over slightly, his posture faltering.

"Oh, yeah?" The question left your mouth as your head dipped low, anticipation and a bit of skepticism filling your voice. Truthfully, you'd doubted heavily that he was about to spill anything revolutionary. Half of the things Eddie said to you made you question how he'd made it past the seventh grade. It was a big reason why you loved him, though—not because you felt better or smarter in any way, but because he was never afraid to be his true, authentic, embarrassing self around you.

"I…" Eddie started, dragging the word out. You watched as his hands slapped the bed repeatedly to mimic a drum roll, earning a playful scoff.

"Oh my god." You muttered under your breath, the words coming out as more of an exhale than a sentence.

"…have a date." Eddie straightened his back as a vain expression painted itself across his face, arms crossing across his chest smugly.

Involuntarily, your smile faltered for a brief moment, and you blinked twice slowly—for some reason, you couldn't pinpoint where the shock of his confession came from. Eddie had crushes on people before, mainly students at school who'd he never really spoke to, so it shouldn't have been a surprise once Eddie finally did find someone who was romantically interested back. Still, your chest burned an unfamiliar feeling—Jealousy? Envy? Anger? It didn't make any sense. You ran his words through your head again and again, and every time, it was as if the words "Eddie" and "date" didn't quite fit together.

Then came the guilt. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you wondered why you didn't feel happy. Eddie was your best friend, your better half, the one thing in this sick world that could ground you and bring you back to reality.

Eddie had crushes before. What was different about this one?

You thought that maybe it could be coming from a place of protectiveness. The memory of having to console Eddie over being asked out as a joke flashed across your eyes. You remembered the way his eyes puffed up from sobbing into his pillow right before you'd cautiously shuffled into his room. You remembered the anger you felt then—the way you'd marched over to her at recess, face red as fury pumped through your veins. It was the first and only time you'd laid your hands on another person.

That anger felt different to the feeling you felt boiling over in your chest. Your stomach twisted as he continued.

"She doesn't go to our school. She's home schooled, if you can believe it. I thought that only the Amish home schooled or something. We met at the music store. She was looking through a stack of records and I bumped into her like one of those cheesy romance movies you like so much." Eddies rough hand nudged your bare arm, skin burning under the playful gesture.

You could only blink, your brain attempting to process the information he was spilling out with that goofy grin slapped on his face. The way your chest burned fought harder than your silent reasoning you repeated desperately in your head. It was bound to happen eventually, and you'd been on a couple of dates, too. Eddie deserved happiness. You couldn't shake the guilty feeling that lingered with the burning in your chest. The entire thing seemed ridiculous—feeling such a strong physical reaction towards something so simple.

"Are you listening?" Eddies voice cut through your spiral like a knife.

You glanced up at him, eyes glossed over with something behind them that he couldn't quite recognize. You didn't mean to look at him like you were just told your mom died, but you couldn't stop it before it was already done. The realization that he noticed how off you were acting made you ball your fingers into fists. You shoved them into your lap quickly and exhaled a sigh to cover it up, because how do you even explain that?

"Yeah, of course I'm listening." A weak smile flashed across your face, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. The feeling of your heart crashing against your chest, thumping harder than you'd ever felt it before, drew all of your attention away from Eddies articulation, and the only thing running through your head now was the silent hope that he couldn't tell you were lying straight through your teeth.

Eddie somehow always knew. Most of the time, it felt as if Eddie could implant himself into your thoughts and dissect every single one like they were his own.

But not this time. Maybe he was too distracted going on and on about the date, or too excited to notice the way your demeanor changed the moment the words left his mouth. And what felt the most ridiculous was the fact that both instances seemed the worst—Eddie noticing or the fact that he didn't.

Eddie insisted on bringing you home, even though you repeatedly reassured him that you'd be fine walking. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Eddie to drive you home, but truthfully, being around him made it extremely difficult to think—and God, you had so much thinking to do when you got home.

You didn't have the energy to argue though, really, even if a nice stroll through Hawkins sounded nice to the alarm blaring in your skull.

Only an hour had passed since Eddie dropped his news on you, and still four hours until curfew. Usually, you'd stay with him from the moment that the school bell rung to early hours in the morning, but after spending the past hour obsessing over every interaction he described in detail with, what he described, his dream girl, you couldn't do it. Half of the time you'd spent concocting some reason to go home. The excuse was bullshit, of course, and something about the way Eddies brows drew together made it obvious that he knew you were full of shit. But you didn't care. Not really. You were freaking out, and you knew that being alone gave you the only shot to shut your brain up.

The passenger door swung open and you crawled into the van like it was habitual, and in some way, it sort of was. You'd spent so many hours in Eddies dingy van that the smell and the stains on the seats were a part of you. The two of you fell into the same routine every time—Eddie would make an effort to open the passenger door for you, mumbling something about being a perfect gentleman to get a rise out of you, you'd both make your way into your seats, and Eddie would remind you to rummage through the glove box and pick a cassette. Music always brought the two of you together, and blasting metal in the van so loud that you couldn't hear yourself think slowly became your favorite part of your day.

But that didn't happen. For the first time ever, you silently clicked your seatbelt and let your head fall and rest on the back of the seat.

Eddie followed into the van, taking his time (as always) to climb into the drivers seat. The engine roared to life as he turned the key. Something heavy lingered in the air, causing your stomach to twist violently. You wondered if he felt it, too, or if it was just another day for him.

As you stared up at the vehicle ceiling, you could feel Eddies eyes on you, scanning your expression with concentration heavy on his face. You blinked, and looked to your left to catch him in your peripheral. The outline of his fingers loosely on the steering wheel caught your attention. He obviously wasn't in a rush, and although you recognized that there wasn't anything wrong with that, you wanted him to rush, and something about how impatient you felt made you feel shameful.

"You alright?" Eddie asked, his voice dipping low in concern.

Here you were, bringing down the mood and sulking in his passenger seat, instead of enjoying the start of spring break like you'd spent weeks and weeks planning.

"Yeah, just really tired." The words sounded off as they left your mouth, your face crinkling up awkwardly. You lifted one shoulder and let it fall in a small shrug.

Eddies gaze lingered on you for a couple seconds too long before he stared back out the windshield. You knew that he knew something was wrong, and you also knew he'd ask about it later—but Eddie wasn't the type of person to pry, and for that, in that exact moment, you were eternally grateful.

The drive home fell uncomfortably quiet, the only sound coming from the rumble of the van engine and the same repeating clink that you'd begged him to get checked out months ago. You remembered the way he argued about mechanic pricing and time. The reminder almost earned a smile from you, lips twitching at the corners. You chewed on your bottom lip and your eyes burned as they stared out of the window.

Although the air around you both stayed consistently quiet, your brain wouldn't shut up. You didn't realize you could feel so many emotions at once—confusion, frustration, guilt. It all coated the inside of your stomach and stuck like it was permanent. But it couldn't be permanent. You couldn't feel like this around Eddie forever. You wouldn't allow it. Besides, at least if you could recognize or name the feeling, you could talk to him and maybe get to the bottom of it together. But how do you tell your best friend, the person that you'd trust your life with, that you're not happy for him? How do you willingly hurt him like that?

The other option it to ignore it. You could sleep it off and if things feel the same in the morning, you could pretend like the burning in your chest doesn't exist. That's it, you thought, pretend. It felt like the only logical way.

The brakes squealed and the van halted to a stop in your driveway. Staring through the windshield, you'd never been more happy to see those cream colored shutters—but somehow, that feeling made you feel sick to your stomach. On a normal day, when Eddie would drop you off, the two of you would sit in the van and soak up as much time as possible, smoking or passing the time with theories about people at school. You'd even kept one of your favorite body sprays in the back seat to hide the marijuana scent when you finally did decide to begrudgingly sloth up the porch stairs. If you were in your driveway before curfew, technically, you weren't breaking any rules. Eddie came up with that conclusion a year and a half ago, and the two of you absolutely ran with it, treating it as if it were scripture. You remember the way your parents tried to fight it, arguing about school nights and education being a more important thing to focus on, but after a couple of weeks, they just let it slide. It wasn't worth the fight, and to be fair, you were always able to come up with a valid counterargument.

The seatbelt clicked as you unbuckled it, and it shot back into the retractor quickly. Instinctively, you paused and breathed a sigh out of your nose. Moving even an inch felt like it was confirming something that you were deathly afraid of, and if society would allow it, you were sure that you'd stay right there in that van forever, living out the rest of your days sitting in the thick air surrounding the two of you.

But you had to go inside, eventually, and if it wasn't for Eddie, that process would've been painfully prolonged.

"Do you want me to walk you inside?" His voice cut through the quiet like a sword, shaking you out of your thoughts.

As your eyes shot over towards him, you felt your body immediately retreating, gaze faltering the moment it landed on his. Instead, it landed on the rings lining his finger. Under the flood lights shining through the windshield, they sparkled, silver and white light blinding you. Somehow, it felt better than struggling to look him in the eye.

"I think I've got it. If you come with me, you may never get home." A dry, humorless laugh left your throat, a lingering weak smile flashing as you glanced up to him.

"Why does that have to be a bad thing?" And there it was again, the sinking feeling—the pit in your stomach and that goofy smile that somehow made even the worst situations okay again.

You felt like you were about to choke, your throat constricting and only allowing a couple of words out. The defense in your voice startled you, though, and you could see the change on Eddies face as you spoke, "It doesn't. I'm just tired."

Eddie blinked twice, an almost stunned look on his face. It wasn't that you sounded mean per say, but unless you were joking back and forth, your tone always sounded gentle to him.

"Yeah, okay. Go get some rest. Will you call me in the morning?"

Eddie pressed his lips together to keep the smirk already tugging at the corners of his mouth from giving him way, settling instead for a quiet tsk of feigned annoyance. He didn’t bother replying as he led his little group of black sheep further down the hall.

Instead, he let the noise of the hallway fill the silence while his mind drifted back to the events of last night. And despite his best efforts, that smirk found its way onto his lips anyway.

Ever the observant one – unlike Gareth, who was operating purely on horny teenage instinct – Jeff noticed it immediately the second he fell into step beside Eddie.

“Yeah,” he breathed out dramatically, jerking his head towards Gareth as he leaned down just enough to look at Eddie properly. “He’s a goner.”

Gareth’s brows shot up as he leaned in for another look at him.

“Jesus,” he snorted. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, don’t she?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, though the warmth climbing up the tips of his ears betrayed him instantly.

“Fuck off.”

“No, seriously,” Jeff continued, smacking a hand against Eddie’s shoulder while a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s a good look on you, buddy.”

Eddie’s ringed fingers twitched around the handle of his metal lunchbox as he fought the urge to roll his eyes again and throw some snarky comment back at them.

Instead, he let the endless blabbering of his best friends fade into the background noise of the hallway while his eyes wandered over the sea of students around him, his mind drifting elsewhere entirely.

This morning had been a good one.

Birds had chirped softly from the electricity wires high above the trailer park while the quiet dripping of the coffee machine filled the delicate silence inside the trailer. Eddie had spent most of it half-awake, just letting his eyes wander across your face as you slept beside him – taking in the soft breaths leaving your nose and the way every muscle in your face had relaxed completely against his chest.

Not even Wayne nearly ripping the front door off its hinges on his way bay inside had managed to pull a harsh reaction out of him.

It had been a little after six when Eddie finally gently nudged you awake, the sky outside already splitting open with warm streaks of sunshine, and honestly? It almost pained him to do it – which was a realization he still wasn’t entirely comfortable unpacking.

But he’d figured you should probably get home to get ready for school, and besides, he wanted to give you the option of driving your own car instead of being stuck with him again.

Still, the image of your sleepy blinking, eyelashes brushing softly against your cheeks while you tried to wake up, had carved itself a permanent place somewhere inside his brain.

And frankly? That scared the living shit out of him; how easily he could slip into this whole… thing the two of you had going on.

Eddie was brought back to the present when his shoulder accidentally slammed into another student.

“Watch it, freak,” someone muttered while brushing past him.

“Yeah,” Gareth snorted. “Lover boy’s not mentally present right now.”

Somewhere near the end of the hall, Nathalie sucked thoughtfully on her bottom lip while one of her brows slowly arched upward as she stood in front of a corkboard, pretending to read one of the random flyers pinned to it.

Gareth froze for a second before quickly clearing his throat.

Then he muttered something about a blonde babe looking lost under his breath and immediately veered off in her direction.

Eddie barely seemed to notice – but if he did, he wasn’t particularly interested in it.

Beside him, Jeff pursed his lips thoughtfully like he was turning something over in his head before nudging Eddie with his elbow and jerking his head back towards the entrance doors.

“Wanna smoke one more time before we get tortured?” he asked, already patting his pockets for his cigarettes.

He pretended to think about it for a second before finally nodding and turning back towards the entrance, Jeff falling into step beside him.

The hallway had emptied out considerably in the few minutes they’d spent standing there, most students finally dragging themselves to class as the first warning bell echoed faintly through the building.

By the time they stepped back outside, the morning air felt even warmer than before.

The two of them made their way towards the picnic table – far enough from the entrance to avoid attracting the attention of any faculty member wandering around in search of students skipping class.

Jeff tossed his battered pack of Marlboros towards Eddie before hopping up onto the tabletop beside him. He flicked his lighter open and lit the cigarette hanging between his lips, squinting his eyes when he felt the flame a little too close from his face for his liking.

The two of them sat there quietly for a moment, smoke curling lazily into the warm morning air while chirping birds overhead filled the silence between them.

“So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

Eddie furrowed his brows slightly as he pulled a cigarette from the pack. “The hell you talkin’ about?”

Jeff snorted softly around his cigarette before taking another drag.

“C’mon man,” he muttered, smoke still trapped in his lungs. “I’m not stupid.”

That made Eddie still for half a second before he leaned back on his free hand.

The morning air sat warm and still around them while late students trickled through the parking lot in the distance, the faint rumble of car engines drifting across the school grounds.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he muttered after a while, finally lighting the cigarette between his lips.

Jeff only shrugged one shoulder. “It means, you’ve been weird as Hell lately.”

Eddie just snorted softly around his cigarette, muttering something about Jeff needing to stop analysing his bullshit all the time.

“Nah, man, I’m serious.” His best friend pointed at him with the two fingers holding his cigarette. “You disappeared last night, and this morning you come back looking like you’ve received divine revelation.”

“That’s just my face.”

“You can bullshit me all you want,” Jeff replied, bringing the cigarette back to his lips for a quick drag, “but you can’t bullshit yourself.”

Eddie rolled his eyes automatically, though it lacked most of its usual bite, and tapped ash onto the dry soil beside his sneakers as his jaw tightened slightly.

“She’s just…” he started before trailing off. “Y’know?”

Jeff glanced sideways at him immediately, catching the hesitation and the way Eddie pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

“You sound like a fucking thirteen-year-old trying to describe his first crush,” Jeff chuckled.

Eddie lamely flipped him off before busying himself with his cigarette again.

The thing was, he knew his best friend wasn’t wrong – and that was exactly the problem.

Because he’d done this before – the hooking up, the lingering stares during sets, messy almost-somethings that burned out long before they ever even got the chance to matter.

But this?

This felt dangerously close to mattering – and he wasn’t used to that.

His fingers tightened slightly around the cigarette while his eyes drifted out towards the empty football field beyond the parking lot fence.

“She liked you too, y’know,” Jeff muttered before taking one last drag. “Could see it on her face when we played.”

“Yeah,” he muttered back, almost absentmindedly letting the words slips out before he could stop them. “That’s kinda what scares me.”

Eddie still carried the conversation around his head long after he and Jeff had parted ways towards their own classes.

Chairs had already stopped scraping against the tiled floor by the time he stepped into Mr. Sullivan’s classroom, though class hadn’t started just yet.

He let out a quiet sigh as his fingers dragged through his hair while he made his way towards the back of the room where he usually sat.

The bell rang just as Nathalie jokingly shoved you through the doorway, the two of you laughing about something incomprehensible with a grumpy Mr. Sullivan trailing closely behind.

The loud teenage noise filling the classroom didn’t dull immediately when the teacher walked in, but something inside Eddie’s mind did the second he laid his eyes on you.

Whatever words you’d been about to say to Nathalie died on the tip of your tongue when your eyes flicked towards him. Instead, you swallowed softly before offering him a small, shy smile as you slipped into your usual seat.

Your hair shifted over your shoulders when you turned back for one quick glance at him before facing forward again as the scratching sound of chalk against the blackboard filled the room.

You hadn’t brush it, or applied whatever the Hell Eddie thought girls usually used to make it look all neat and perfect. Instead, you’d left it messy – like it had been when you woke up beside him this morning.

And just like that, Jeff’s words came back to haunt him again.

Unfortunately for Eddie, lunchtime only made things worse.

Jeff didn’t even have to look up from his disgusting sandwich to make Eddie feel painfully called out – and neither did Gareth, who seemed far more enthralled with a certain blonde sitting a few feet away than with whatever was sitting on his lunch tray.

Honestly, Dustin and his annoyingly observant eyes were more than enough.

“So, like, are you guys a thing now, or what?” Dustin muttered casually before shoving a handful of cold fries into his mouth.

Jeff finally looked up at that, chewing slowly while his hips twitched around an amused grin.

“What? No,” Eddie coughed out immediately – a little too quickly. “Jesus, Henderson.”

The boys exchanged smug looks instantly, completely ignoring the daggers Eddie shot at them across the table.

He opened his mouth to throw an insult back at them when the sound of loud laughter cut through the cafeteria noise.

His head turned before he could stop himself.

You sat across from Nathalie, absentmindedly picking at your food with the plastic fork in your hand while the blonde dramatically waved her hands around like it was absolutely necessary to do so while she rambled on about whatever story had currently taken over her brain.

The sunlight spilling through the cafeteria windows caught in your hair as you glanced around the room over your shoulder – eyes lazily scanning the neighbouring tables until they landed on him.

And just like that, your entire face softened.

Fuck.

And apparently so did his, judging by the way Jeff’s eyes suddenly glimmered a little more than usual; the insufferable grin spreading across his face certainly didn’t help either.

“Don’t even,” Eddie muttered quickly before swallowing hard.

Jeff only snorted under his breath. “You’re both disgustingly obvious.”

Eddie ignored him completely, though the warmth creeping up the back of his neck betrayed him instantly.

“You too, Loverboy,” Jeff added while nudging Gareth with his elbow after noticing he was still openly staring at the blonde without an ounce of shame.

Meanwhile, two tables down diagonally, Nathalie continued waving her hands around while complaining about the fact that you and Eddie had forced her to take the remaining two thirds of Corroded Coffin.

Well, complaining wasn’t exactly what she was doing – although she clearly liked to think she was. In reality, there was a new glimmer in her eyes you’d never really seen before, accompanied by a small smile she kept unsuccessfully trying to brush away.

Your hand curled around your water bottle while her voice faded in and out in the background, your attention too busy stealing quick glances over your shoulder instead.

“Are you even listening to me?” she sighed dramatically before tossing a cold fry at you.

It hit right beneath your clavicle before dropping soundlessly onto your lap – but it was enough to pull you back into the conversation.

“Of course I am,” you mumbled with a soft furrow between your brows.

“No, you aren’t.”

“You were pretending not to like Gareth’s cologne,” you replied matter-of-factly with an arched brow.

Nathalie froze for half a second, her eyes widening slightly.

“No, I wasn’t,” she answered a little too quickly.

“Yes, you were,” you laughed softly.

Her pale eyes flickered briefly towards your neck before returning to your face again.

“Yeah, well,” she muttered grumpily, clearly displeased that you’d called her out, “I didn’t let a vampire abuse my neck like some people.”

Now it was your turn to freeze in your seat before quickly averting your eyes.

You blinked a few times too many while your brain scattered desperately for some kind of snarky remark to throw back at her.

“No comment,” you mumbled back.

Her eyes flickered back towards the bruises before drifting over to the other table and then back again, her brows pulling into a deep furrow.

She looked back down at her cold fries like they held all the answered to the questions she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to ask you.

“Would it be weird,” she started softly, almost hesitantly, “for, y’know…”

She pushed her tray away with obvious disgust written across her face before her expression softened again.

“For me to be a little worried about you?”

That pulled your eyes back to her face immediately.

“Why would you be worried about me?” you asked nervously. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I can clearly see that,” she absentmindedly pointed towards your neck before rolling her eyes jokingly, like that might somehow soften the weight of her next words.

She leaned back in her chair, rolling her shoulders as she carefully considered what to say next.

“I’m just scared people are gonna treat you differently,” she mumbled quickly under her breath, almost like she was ripping off a bandage in one quick pull. She noticed the way your shoulders tensed immediately – not anxiously, but defensively.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nat.”

“I’m not. Just… listen,” she muttered softly while reaching across the table to intertwine her fingers with yours, her thumb brushing gentle circles against the back of your hand. “Hawkins is cruel to girls.”

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment longer.

“People don’t care what boys do,” she sighed before letting her eyes drift towards the Hellfire table. “But a girl like you? I’m scared they’ll turn you into a story.”

Her thumb continued its slow movements against your skin while she let the weight of her words settle between you for a moment longer.

“But, I can also tell you’re serious about this, about him,” she added quietly, the look in her eyes softening once again. “And I saw the way he looked at you yesterday, too.”

The fluorescent lights overhead were too harsh on her features, but somehow, they still couldn’t harden the gentleness she only seemed to reserve for you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and the silence between you filled itself with the loud teenage noise surrounding your table.

Nathalie’s teeth found her bottom lip when she noticed the quiet, gradual way your expression fell.

And she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Eddie did too – even from where he sat.

He could feel the start of something uncomfortable settling somewhere behind his ribs the second he noticed the quick glance Nathalie sent towards his table.

But then your eyes slowly found him instead, and the soft smile you gave him when your gazes locked again was more than enough to quiet the uneasy buzzing beneath his skin.

Nathalie’s words continued echoing somewhere deep in your mind even after the four classes that followed lunch period – even with the hallways buzzing with teenage chatter, squeaking sneakers against tiled floors, and entirely too much hairspray for a Wednesday afternoon.

You knew her words came not only from concern, but love too, and because of that, they didn’t settle quite as wrong in the pit of your stomach as you’d expected them to. That didn’t make you safe from your nasty habit of overthinking everything, though.

You flinched when you accidentally yanked a little too hard on your locker door, sending a book and far too many loose papers spilling onto the floor. Like the imaginary eyes you’d felt following you around all day weren’t enough, now you had actual fucking people staring while you let out an exasperated sigh and dropped to your knees.

The first thing that came into view were the harsh reflections of the fluorescent lights overhead – honestly, they hurt your eyes – before you tilted your head back and found yourself staring at a familiar mess of dark curls.

“B plus on an algebra test?” Eddie scoffed while reaching down to grab one of the papers that had escaped your locker. “Why isn’t this hanging on your family’s refrigerator?”

You huffed out a quiet laugh while taking the thin stack of papers from his hands.

“Because it’s not a big deal,” you mumbled back while shoving everything carelessly inside your locker again.

“Sweetheart, if I was getting anything above a C,” Eddie started, another soft scoff slipping from his lips, “I’d be buying drinks for everyone at the Hide Out.”

You rolled your eyes at him while putting away the books you didn’t need to bring home, replacing them with the ones you did. Eddie shifted his weight awkwardly as his eyes flickered around the hallway.

“So…”

“So,” you echoed, a soft smile slowly creeping onto your lips.

“Speaking of drinks…” He forced a cough into his fist when he felt his voice slipping somewhere it definitely wasn’t supposed to. “Do you, like…”

You adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder before closing your locker and turning back towards him again.

His hand stayed tucked deep inside the front pockets of his jeans while he awkwardly nodded to himself, like the absentminded movement might somehow help him force the words out.

“Do you wanna get something to drink?” he asked quietly under his breath. “Like… I dunno, a milkshake or something?”

Eddie’s eyes flickered nervously from you to the ground and back up again while he bit awkwardly at the inside of his cheek, suddenly realising he’d just asked you out – in quite possibly the lamest way imaginable, too.

“That sounded pathetic, didn’t it?” He visibly cringed at himself, his nose scrunching as he looked somewhere over your shoulder instead of directly at you.

You, on the other hand, nervously bit down on your lower lip while his words continued echoing through your head.

“No, it didn’t,” you answered softly, your gaze dropping away from him when the warmth creeping across the tips of your ears started spreading down your neck. “I’d love to.”

Someone near the end of the hallway suddenly shouted something just as Eddie opened his mouth to answer you, pulling both of your attention away for a brief moment.

Lockers continued slamming in the background, along with the obnoxious squeak of brand-new sneakers against tile, while Eddie let the words die on his tongue instead. He dragged a ringed hand through his hair – a nervous habit he never quite managed to shake, even after all the times his curls had gotten caught around his rings and yanked painfully. Your eyes drifted back towards him just in time to catch the funny face he pulled after accidentally tugging a few strands too hard.

“Ah, fuck,” hissed quietly while scowling at absolutely nothing in particular.

The sight in front of you pulled a small, disbelieving laugh out of you – one that only worsened when you noticed the soft pout forming on his lips while he untangled the strands of hair caught around his rings.

“So,” you murmured once you’d finally gotten your laughter under control, “what time were you thinking?”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly as his eyebrows shot upwards.

“I, uh…” he trailed off before scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I was kinda thinking… now?

“Now?” you laughed, already gesturing down at your clothes. “You don’t even want me to change into something a little nicer?”

“I couldn’t care less about your outfit, Sweetheart,” he murmured back, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

You hummed softly before raising a brow at him.

“That’s not what you said yesterday.”

He slowly looked away, his teeth catching his bottom lip as warmth into his cheeks at the memory of the previous night. After a second, he let go of it and pursed his lips instead.

“Y’know what?” Eddie scoffed softly while finally looking back at you again. “I got nothing to say to that.”

That pulled another quiet laugh out of you while you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your fingers tightened slightly around the strap of your bag.

“Follow me back home?” you murmured softly, already starting to walk towards the main exit leading out to the parking lot. “Or am I supposed to drive myself home tonight?”

The deep rumble of Eddie’s van died the moment he turned the key before glancing over at you.

“You ready to terrorise the diner?”

Your eyes had already been on him, too busy taking in the way the neon lights bled through the windshield and across his face, painting his pale skin in shades of pink, orange, and bright red. It made you wonder how he’d look on a real stage – one big enough for him to thrive even more than he already did at the Hide Out.

“Never been more ready,” you replied while forcing yourself back into the moment.

The harsh slam of the van’s creaking doors echoed loudly into the open air, starting a few birds from their comfortable spots atop the electrical wires as the two of you made your way towards the diner entrance. The small bell above the door chimed softly when Eddie pulled it open for you, holding it there with a dramatic flourish of his free arm and a low milady slipping from his lips.

The old Wurlitzer tucked against the back wall hummed softly in the background, filling the diner with some cheesy love song from the fifties while the occasional burst of laughter and clatter of plates blended into the warm noise around you.

“You got a favourite seat?” you asked while stepping further inside, immediately getting hit with the thick scent of French fries and the faint underlying smell of industrial cleaning supplies.

“At the back there,” Eddie replied, pointing a ringed finger towards the vinyl booths tucked near the jukebox.

The two of you slid into the booth furthest from the windows, the old leather squeaking softly underneath you movements while a waitress somewhere behind the counter shouted another order into the kitchen. The song currently humming through the diner crackled softly as it came to an end, only for another to slowly drift through the staticky speakers a second later.

Your brows lifted slightly when Eddie’s ringed fingers immediately started tapping against the tabletop in perfect rhythm with the beat – not absentmindedly, either. Knowingly.

“What?” he asked after catching you staring.

“Just didn’t expect you to know this song,” you replied with a quiet laugh.

Eddie scoffed dramatically, pretending you’d just personally offended him. “Of course I know it. It’s the Hollies.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise before small smile slowly spread across your face.

“That one band I played yesterday?” you laughed softly under your breath. “You actually listen to them?”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” Eddie tsked while shaking his head jokingly. “Show some respect.”

His fingers kept drumming lazily against the tabletop while he leaned further back into the booth.

“Besides, good music’s good music,” he shrugged simply. “I contain multitudes.”

That pulled another laugh out from you.

“A random – what is it, sixties – love song?” One of your brows lifted playfully. “You’re kinda ruining your whole spooky metalhead reputation right know, y’know.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie started dramatically while placing a hand over his chest, “metalheads are allowed emotional depth too.”

“Is that what this is?” you teased. “Emotional depth?”

“No,” he deadpanned immediately. “This is me being devastatingly cultured, something we unfortunately cannot say about you.”

Your laughter mixed softly with the music drifting through the diner, and for a moment, Eddie found himself growing quiet again. Not awkwardly – just enough to watch the way the warm amber lights overhead reflected in your eyes while you smiled at him from across the table. And somewhere underneath the diner lights, with What Kind of Girl Are You still humming softly through the speakers, Eddie realised this felt dangerously close to the kind of night he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

The waitress finally wandered over with a tired – yet somehow still welcoming – smile and a notepad tucked against her apron.

“What can I getcha?”

Eddie barely glanced at the menu before looking up at her. “Chocolate milkshake.”

“Pictured you as a strawberry guy.” Your brows lifted slightly.

He gasped dramatically. “Pink’s definitely not metal, Sweetheart. C’mon, now.”

“Neither are the Hollies.”

The waitress snorted softly under her breath before scribbling the order down. “One milkshake or two?”

Eddie visibly short-circuited – you could practically see the exact moment his brain stopped functioning behind his eyes.

“Can I get a vanilla shake, please?” you answered softly before he could completely spiral.

“You betcha,” the waitress replied absentmindedly while finishing the order. “Be right back.”

The Hollies had taken it upon themselves to fill the soft silence that settled between the two of you for a little while longer, the playful, teasing melody lingering gently over the table.

Eddie absentmindedly played with his rings – turning one around his finger before pulling it off completely, only to slide it back on again a second later. There wasn’t any pressure lingering between the two of you anymore – no pressure to act a certain way or force conversation into every quiet moment just to fill the space. Just… comfortable silence – the kind where two people simply existed beside each other without needing anything more.

“So, vanilla, huh?” Eddie said after a few seconds, something dangerously close to mischief settling in your eyes.

“If you’re about to call me boring,” you deadpanned while narrowing your eyes at him, “I will kick you.”

“You’re everything but,” he murmured under his breath – just quietly enough that the waitress couldn’t hear it when she returned balancing two tall glasses in her hands.

Eddie nodded faintly in appreciation when the waitress placed both milkshakes down onto the table before disappearing again almost immediately. His dark eyes stayed glued to the perfect milky swirls sitting in front of you.

“What?”

“Oh, y’know,” he started while softly pursing his lips to stop himself from smiling, “just wondering if it tastes as boring as it sounds.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Before you could kick him, or he could stop myself, Eddie’s fingers curled around the short stem of your milkshake glass and pulled it closer before taking a quick sip from your straw.

He let the taste settle on his tongue for a second before swallowing. And then he froze; not because of the brain freeze, either.

“…I don’t know why I just did that.”

One of your brows lifted slightly while your lips curled into an amused little smirk.

“Well?” you murmured teasingly. “Is it boring?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered after a moment, his eyes still fixed on yours.

Eddie’s fingers drummed lazily against the steering wheel while the radio played quietly in the background. The neon diner lights had long since been replaced by the soft amber glow of the sunset streaks stretching across the windshield while he drove with an unusual kind of calmness settling over him.

He’d noticed the way you’d lazily kicked off your shoes and stretched your legs across the dashboard, your head softly bobbing along to whatever song was currently playing – one he could barely hear properly anymore after the years of playing music without bothering to protect his ears. His gaze kept flickering between the road and you, stealing quick glances while the glowing fifties sign slowly disappeared into the distance behind you.

“Do you, uh… wanna go home yet?” he asked carefully, almost like he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to interrupt the comfortable silence the two of you had fallen into.

You slouched a little further into the vinyl seat before finally dragging your gaze away from the passing window outside.

“Not really, no,” you admitted without even taking a second to think about it.

That pulled a small smile from Eddie while he nodded faintly to a beat only he could hear, his fingers tapping softly against the steering wheel along with it. The windows had been rolled down, letting the early-summer evening air drift through the van. It felt noticeably softer now than it had that morning while Eddie drove the two of you in the opposite direction of your house. His curls blew carelessly in the wind while his free hand briefly stopped tapping against the steering wheel to pull down the visor.

Storefronts and average buildings blurred into grey smudges that slowly gave way to stretches of green the further Eddie drove from downtown, until the loamy scent of wet earth and mineral-laced air drifted in through the open windows before Lovers Lake finally revealed itself ahead.

Gravel crunched softly underneath the tires when Eddie finally pulled the van to a stop near the edge of the lake. He killed the engine and, for a moment, the sudden quiet rang loudly in your ears before the slow croaking of frogs gradually drifted into the foreground instead.

“C’mon,” he murmured after a while, already pushing open his door.

The back doors of the van creaked loudly when he pulled them apart, revealing a wooden crate stuffed with old blankets, a concerning amount of empty soda cans shoved into a grocery bag, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and worn leather. He reached for one of the blankets along with his trusted metal lunchbox before tilting his head back slightly, silently coaxing you to follow him while he nudged van doors shut again and started towards the docks.

“So, I was thinking,” he started slowly, turning his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder, “how about I teach you how to roll, hm?”

Eddie stopped a few feet from the edge of the pier before setting his lunchbox down with a soft metallic clank. He unfolded the blanket and spread it across the wooden planks as neatly as he could, despite the occasional breeze trying to fold the corners back over themselves.

The green, damp tang of early-summer lake water felt stronger now, faint hints of fish and algae lingering in the air around you while the vivid trills of crickets rose and fell in soft waves through the trees. Warm streaks of sunset still glimmered from behind the thick trees, though somehow they still managed to find their way across Eddie’s face when he sat down and patted the free space in front of him before reaching for his lunchbox. You sat cross-legged in front of him, your eyes lingering on his face while you took in the way the golden streaks of sundown made him look even softer than the diner lights had.

When Eddie finally flicked his gaze up from the lunchbox beside him, his brows furrowed slightly.

“C’mere, turn around,” he mumbled lazily motioning his ringed finger in a small circle.

“Hm?”

“It’ll be easier to teach you like that.”

So you did just that – clumsily turning around on the blanket until your back faced him instead. One of Eddie’s ringed hands settled carefully against your waist while he shuffled closer behind you until the warmth of his chest pressed softly against your back, each of his legs splayed comfortably on either side of you. You all but melted when the soft warmth of him spread across your back and his chin found its place on your shoulder.

“A’ight, first step,” he mumbled softly while passing you the flimsy rolling paper, “you’re gonna hold it between your thumb, pointer, and middle finger. Like this, see?”

And for the next twenty minutes, his chin barely left your shoulder while his uncontrollable laughter rang in your ear every time your fingers clumsily failed to follow his instructions.

“Oh, God,” he breathed out, his curls brushing against your cheek even after he’d finally managed to get his laughter under control. “It’s like watching Bambi try to roll a joint, but worse.”

Somewhere between shared laughter and exhausted, belly-aching sighs, Eddie had eventually pulled the crinkled rolling paper from your hands with the clear intention of salvaging whatever damage you’d managed to inflict on it. Expert fingers quickly rescued it before he rolled the joint shut and held the sticky edge up towards your lips.

“See?” he murmured softly after sealing it closed. “That’s how you do it.”

He handed the finished joint over to you while patting himself down in search of hi lighter.

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbled quietly to himself. “Think I left the lighter in the van.”

“It’s in the inside pocket of your jacket.”

Eddie stilled for half a second before pulling open the front of his jacket and reaching into the inside pocket with two fingers.

“Huh,” he mumbled quietly once the lighter landed in his palm.

Then his hand found your waist again, gently tugging your back a little closer to his chest before he pressed a quick kiss against your cheek. The joint had been lit in the gentle silence surrounding the two of you, with only the crickets and early-summer cicadas filling the open air.

You took another small, tentative drag before passing it back to Eddie, blowing the smoke upwards as you watched the breeze curl it softly through the air until it disappeared altogether. His arm had long since snaked around your frame to keep you tucked closer against him while neither one of you had bothered moving from your original positions.

Somewhere between the lazy haze settling behind your eyes and the fading reflections trembling across the water, your fingers had found his hand resting against your waist and quietly intertwined with his.

As the sun dipped lower and the world seemed to exhale alongside the two of you, the sky softened into streaks of molten gold and bruised violet. The last remaining rays of sunlight slipping through the thick trees stretched across the still lake water in shimmering ribbons. The shadows along the shoreline deepened while the water slowly darkened into shades of indigo and shifting silver, like the lake itself was holding onto the sunset without any hurry to let it go. The slow, unhurried transformation of the glowing horizon into softened amber spread a gentle calmness through your chest as you instinctively snuggled a little closer into him.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked softly, your eyes already closed while your head lulled heavily against his chest.

“How pretty it looks,” Eddie murmured quietly before taking another drag from the joint.

Your eyes slowly opened again, heavy with warmth and smoke, taking in the view stretched out in front of you without realising Eddie hadn’t been talking about the sunset at all.

Soft streaks of morning sunlight stretched across your room until they landed on the leather jacket tossed carelessly over your bed – like it didn’t hold as much meaning as it actually did – while you actively tried to pretend you weren’t searching your closet for something that looked good with it.

Eddie had draped it over your shoulder the previous night when the glittering stars overhead had given way to a colder breeze rolling off the lake, and he hadn’t asked for it back before you made the short walk from the driveway to your front door.

It was far too early in the morning to be wearing a leather jacket – and far too early for Nathalie’s words to already find their way back into your overthinking mind. So you shoved both thoughts aside and pulled the sleeves over your arms before heading out to school.

The excruciating heat trapped beneath the dark leather wasn’t the only thing making you feel claustrophobic – gossiping eyes and turning heads followed your every move the second you stepped out of the car, only worsening the closer you got to the school entrance. And it wasn’t even about being seen in Eddie’s jacket as much as it was about the judgment already dripping from every lingering stare thrown your way – the confused expressions, the overly critical furrow of brows while people leaned forward their friends to whisper about how you’d been wearing a completely different jacket just two weeks ago.

By the time you reached your locker, your fingers had already curled around the hem of the sleeve twice with the intention of pulling it off – but you stopped yourself both times. The scent of cigarette smoke, worn leather, and cheap cologne still clung faintly to the inside lining, grounding you just enough to keep your hands still.

“Jesus Christ,” Nathalie muttered the second she rounded the corner and spotted you leaning against your locker. “They’re acting like you showed up pregnant.”

Your eyes flickered uncomfortably towards the groups of students lingering further down the hallway before settling back on her again. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well…” she grimaced slightly while adjusting the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder. “You are wearing Eddie Munson’s jacket like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

“Jesus,” you mumbled under your breath while heat immediately crawled up the back of your neck.

Nathalie’s eyes flickered briefly towards the jacket again before she nudged your shoulder lightly with her own. “For what it’s worth, you look cute.”

Before you could answer, your head instinctively turned towards the loud burst of laughter that suddenly echoed through the hallway.

And so did Eddie’s.

He’d been halfway through saying something to Gareth when his eyes landed on you standing by your locker – or, more specifically, on the oversized black leather jacket hanging from your shoulders.

Jeff immediately noticed the way Eddie’s entire body stilled.

“Holy shit, dude,” he whispered dramatically while grabbing Eddie’s shoulders hard enough to jolt him slightly. “She wore the jacket.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered automatically, though the words came out far weaker than intended.

Because you had worn the jacket. Not just publicly – but at school. Like it had never even been a question.

And suddenly, Eddie felt something uncomfortable settle beneath his ribs when he became painfully aware of every set of eyes flickering between the two of you in the hallway, followed by whispers, blatant stares, and the heavy judgment already threatening to settle over your shoulders right alongside his jacket. But when your nervous eyes finally found his across the crowded hallway, you still reached up and pulled the leather tighter around yourself instead of taking it off – like not even the awful crawling anxiety underneath your skin could convince you to let go of it.

And then you gave him a small smile from where you stood – one that quietly told him you were going to be okay. Eddie’s breathed caught softly in his throat before he slowly smiled back.

The second bell still rang loudly in your ears even minutes after it had stopped echoing through the hallway. You adjusted the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder while hurrying towards the biology classroom through the empty hall. Besides the sound of your footsteps, the silence around you was only broken by the crinkling hallway slip clutched tightly in your other hand after Mr. Flanagan had kept you behind to talk about an essay you’d written.

A soft creak suddenly echoed through the hallway before an arm shot out from the janitor’s closet and yanked you inside. “What the–”

“Shhh,” Eddie whispered quickly while peeking back out into the hallway to make sure no one had seen the two of you disappear inside. “I’ve been waiting for ages. What took you so long?”

“Mr. Flanagan wanted to talk about an essay I wrote,” you answered breathlessly before confusion pulled at your brows. “Why are we hiding in the janitor’s closet?”

His curls bounced softly when he turned back towards you, his hand immediately finding your hips before gently pulling you flush against his chest.

“Because,” he started while tilting his head slightly backwards, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across his lips, “you kinda short-circuited my brain when you walked into school wearing my jacket.”

Warmth instantly crawled into your cheeks when he leaned down just enough to press a soft, lingering kiss against your cheekbone before his expression softened again afterwards.

“I just…” he hesitated briefly, thumbs brushing absentmindedly against your hips. “I hope people haven’t been assholes to you because of it.”

Eddie’s grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly before his thumbs started tracing soft circles against the denim of your jeans. You blinked at him a few times before a shy, knowing smile slowly tugged at the corners of your lips. Your hand lifted to his cheek, and you couldn’t help the quiet hum that escaped you when he immediately melted further into your touch, his dramatic persona slipping away just as easily as it always seemed to around you.

“It’s okay–”

“No, it’s not,” Eddie cut you off softly, his head still tilted into his palm while his eyes stayed closed. “You don’t deserve any of it.”

“It’s okay, Eddie,” you said a little more firmly while your thumb started brushing softly against his cheek. “They’ll get bored eventually.”

The two of you fell quiet again for a moment, but neither of you made any move to pull away. Your eyes drifted briefly towards the sleeve hanging loosely from your shoulder before a small smile tugged softly at your lips.

“It made it easier, y’know.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed slightly. “What d’you mean?”

“The jacket,” you shrugged one shoulder lightly. “It smells like you.”

That alone was enough to make his fingers tighten ever so slightly against your hips again.

“The cigarettes?” he snorted softly.

“The cigarettes,” you hummed jokingly before your expression softened again. “The leather. Your cologne.”

Your eyes flickered back towards him again.

“It made it easier.”

He went completely still – not dramatically, just enough for you to notice the way his eyes searched your face for a second longer than usual, like he didn’t quite know what to do with the confession you’d just handed him. Something vulnerable flickered underneath his usual teasing expression before he looked down briefly and softly exhaled through his nose.

“You can’t just say stuff like that to me,” he muttered quietly, almost more to himself than to you. A snort escaped you. “Why?” “Because,” Eddie mumbled while his thumbs absentmindedly brushed over your hips again, “you keep making me feel things, Sweetheart. It’s very inconsiderate of you.”

That pulled another snort out of you.

And maybe it was the quietness of the closet, or the lingering warmth of the previous night still stubbornly clinging between the two of you, but your hand instinctively slid from his cheek towards the back of his neck instead. Eddie’s eyes flickered briefly down to your lips before slowly lifting back up again. Your breaths tangled together in the cramped little space while he leaned down carefully, giving you more than enough time to pull away if you wanted to – but you didn’t. Your lips met his softly – careful at first, almost hesitant – before the kiss deepened ever so slightly when your fingers curled gently against the nape of his neck.

But then, the sharp sound of footsteps suddenly echoed right outside the closet door, making the two of you jolt apart immediately.

“You still in there, Munson?” “Shit,” Eddie muttered while nearly knocking over a mop bucket beside him. “Gimme ten more minutes, Jared, and I’ll give you a discount.” “Fuck, kid. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” the older voice replied from the other side of the door before the footsteps slowly faded down the hallway again. You bit down hard on your lip to stop your laughter while Eddie frantically dragged a hand through his curls. “Did you just–” A chuckle escaped you before you could finish. “Did you just bribe the janitor?” “First of all,” he whispered dramatically, pointing an accusing finger at you, “that was not a bribe.” You raised a brow. “You literally offered him a discount.” “That,” Eddie corrected while grabbing the mop bucket before it fully tipped over, “was a mutually beneficial business arrangement.” Your laughter echoed softly through the cramped closet before his grin slowly softened again when he looked back at you. “Now, c’mon,” he murmured while reluctantly stepping closer again just to steal one more quick kiss. “Before he makes me give him a whole ounce for free.”

As the day dragged on and classes came and went, you’d slowly started growing used to the lingering stares and the occasional whispers by the time you stepped into the cafeteria with Nathalie glued firmly to your side.

The dramatically loud overlapping noise of teenagers immediately swallowed the both of you whole – trays clattering against tables, bursts of laughter echoing through the room, chairs screeching loudly against the tiled floor.

And somehow, despite all of it, your eyes still immediately found Eddie’s.

He sat slouched lazily at the Hellfire table with Jeff beside him and Gareth halfway through dramatically retelling something with his hands flying around like his life depended on it. But the second Eddie noticed you standing near the cafeteria entrance, the distracted grin on his face softened almost instantly.

Jeff noticed it too, unfortunately.

“C’mon, bro,” he groaned jokingly and loudly enough for the entire table to hear while leaning back in his chair. “You two are becoming unbearable.”

Dustin immediately twisted around in his seat to follow Jeff’s line of sight.

“No way,” he breathed out while pointing an accusatory greasy finger towards Eddie. “She’s still wearing it.”

“Thank you, Henderson,” Eddie deadpanned while flipping him off without even looking away from you. “None of us would’ve noticed otherwise.”

He rolled his eyes automatically, but the smile tugging stubbornly at the corners of his mouth ruined any attempt to annoyance. Then his gaze flickered briefly back towards the jacket still hanging from your shoulders.

And the rest of the day went on exactly like that – Eddie’s gaze flickering towards you whenever he got the chance, his jacket still hanging from your shoulders while small smiles tugged at his lips even when you weren’t actively looking at him.

His leg had bounced relentlessly through the entirety of last period, anxiously shaking beneath his desk while every word leaving Ms. Sullivan’s mouth completely flew over his head as she explained whatever equation currently covered the blackboard.

He wasn’t even supposed to be sitting through Algebra. And yet he’d still shown up anyway just so his eyes could linger on you a little longer.

The final bell rang, and Eddie all but shot out of his chair with his lunchbox clutched tightly in one hand as he made his way over towards your desk.

Before you could even reach for your bag yourself, his free hand had already curled around the strap and tossed it over his shoulder instead.

“You know I can carry my own bag, right?” you joked while quickly shoving your notebook and pen inside as he held it open for you.

“I’m asserting dominance and all that,” Eddie replied lazily, a crooked grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

You snorted softly while shaking your head before gently tugging him along towards the hallway. As usual, the halls buzzed incessantly with exhausted teenage energy – lockers door slamming, squeaking sneakers echoing against tile, and the occasional dramatic just one more day of hell shouted somewhere in the distance.

“So…” Eddie trailed off while angling his body sideways to avoid accidentally shoulder-checking a freshman.

He briefly licked his lips before turning his face towards yours.

“You got any plans tonight?” he asked softly. “Or d’you maybe wanna hang out?”

Besides his words earlier, there was nothing particularly soft about Eddie now when he pushed you back against the trailer door the second the two of you finally stumbled inside.

His ringed hands found your cheeks almost instantly, and a moment later his lips crashed back onto yours to continue what the two of you had started earlier in the janitor’s closet.

A muffled mmpff! escaped your lips when Eddie deepened the kiss, his body pressing you more firmly against the trailer door.

It took you only a split second to recover from the sudden intensity before your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, one of your hands immediately threading through his curls and tugging softly at the roots just to pull him closer still. Your breath hitched, eyes suddenly shimmering beneath the warm amber light when Eddie finally pulled away just enough to look at you. Heat flooded your face so quickly it almost felt like the sun itself had melted into your skin when his hands pressed just slightly harder against your cheeks.

“Bedroom?” he breathed out shakily.

The small nod you gave him was all the answer he needed.

Eddie’s grip on your face softened almost immediately before one of his hands slid down to intertwine with yours instead, gently tugging you towards the bedroom with a patience that hadn’t existed even seconds earlier when he’d kissed you against the trailer door. The electric warmth of Eddie’s hand wrapped around yours sent a shiver racing up your spin while he pushed open the bedroom door.

Your eyes immediately flickered towards the unmade bed sitting in the corner, heat quickly flooding your cheeks again at the fleeting memory of two nights ago when you realised he still hadn’t changed the sheets.

He still held your hand when he sat down on the edge of the mattress, gently pulling you between his legs before softly guiding you down into his lap.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, like he hadn’t just pushed you against the trailer door and kissed you hard enough to leave both of you breathless seconds earlier.

“Yeah,” you nodded softly while your arms curled around his neck once again.

Eddie felt his heart hammering violently against his ribs as he took in the warm slants of sunlight filtering through the blinds, stretching across your face like threads of gold.

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?” he whispered almost absentmindedly, like he hadn’t meant for the words to slip out loud in the first place.

Your breath hitched once again as you sank deeper into his touch, warmth spreading across your face so intensely it almost felt like it had seeped into your bones. You tried focusing instead on the way your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt, your eyes locked briefly onto the faint bruise peeking out from beneath the collar.

His bedroom suddenly felt too small and far too vast all at once, every shift in your breathing echoing loudly in your ears like thunder.

But you didn’t pull away – instead, you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, splaying one of his hands on your back. “Where did you go just now?”

“I’m… just not used to that.” You took a second before continuing. “Being called that.”

Eddie’s arms tightened around you almost instinctively at that, like he could physically shield you from the vulnerability creeping into your voice. His nose brushed softly against your temple before he leaned back just enough to look at you properly again, one of his hands still spread carefully against your back while the other stayed warm against your waist.

“Beautiful?” he asked quietly.

You nodded once against his shoulder, eyes still avoiding his.

A soft breath escaped him through his nose – not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief either. More like he couldn’t fully wrap his head around the fact you genuinely didn’t know.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured gently, thumb brushing slow against your side, “I don’t think I’ve thought about anything else since the moment you walked into the Hide Out.”

Heat immediately rushed back into your face, while your fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of his shirt as a nervous breath, somewhere between a laugh and something far more overwhelmed.

“Hey,” he whispered again, softer this time. “C’mere.”

His arms wrapped more securely around you before he carefully pulled you closer against his chest again, one of his hands sliding up your spine in slow, grounding movements.

“There’s no rush here, okay?” he murmured into your hair. “We can just sit here if you want. I kinda like holding you anyway.”

That finally pulled a tiny smile from you against his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed out without hesitation. “You’ve very holdable.”

A soft, disbelieving chuckle escaped you before you finally pulled away from his shoulder just enough to look at him properly again.

Eddie’s warm eyes melted into yours, and every nerve in your body seemed to light up from the simple act of being this close to him. You pressed your forehead gently against his, breathing in the scent of sun-warmed skin, faint traces of cologne, and something deeper underneath it all that felt uniquely him. Your fingers twitched lightly against the fabric of his shirt before you slowly tilted your head downwards again until your lips brushed softly against his.

The kiss stayed soft and warm, but every movement of Eddie’s lips still sent electric jolts racing down your spine until your fingers suddenly tightened around his shirt like you needed something solid to anchor yourself to.

Eddie pulled away just slightly afterward, taking a quiet moment to study your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory – the arch of your eyebrows, the softness of your lips, the shy warmth still lingering in your eyes. Then he leaned in again, closing the small distance between you once more. His lips brushed gently against yours at first, feather-light and careful, before the kiss depend when his hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb slowly tracing along your jaw.

For a moment, everything else faded away – the crunch of gravel beneath passing cars outside, the distant chirping birds, the faint rattling of the trailer walls whenever the wind shifted. There was only him – only the warmth of his mouth against yours and the quiet way he poured every ounce of longing he had into the kiss, like somehow you’d understand all the things he still didn’t quite know how to say out loud.

He pulled away again afterwards, resting his forehead gently against yours while his chest rose and fell unevenly between shallow breaths.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered before stealing another quick kiss. “Especially wearing my jacket.”

The hand resting against your back slowly slid lower until it settled against your waist instead, holding you gently while his thumb traced absentminded circles beneath the hem of your shirt.

“Can I…” Eddie trailed off quietly, swallowing hard when his fingers accidentally tightened around your waist for a brief second before loosening again. His eyes flickered carefully between yours. “Can I show you? What you do to me?”

He leaned back just enough to properly look at your face again, like he was trying to read every reaction before he moved any further.

Your breath hitched when you felt him twitch under you.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your chest rising faster than it had just a few seconds before.

Eddie pushed his mouth gently back onto yours, lips moving softly as he almost hesitantly pushed your lips open to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip in that way that made your stomach tighten, while your hands found his hair.

“Can I take this off?” he whispered against your lips as his hands brushed softly against the rough material of your jeans.

You nodded softly, eyebrows furrowing as your heart hammered into your ribs.

“I need to hear you say it, Sweetheart,” he whispered before he gave you another quick kiss.

“Yeah, t-that’s okay,” you whispered back.

Leaning in, he captured your lips with his, while his hands roam over your jeans-clad thighs.

He tilted his head and kissed softly along your jaw, relishing the soft gasps that escaped you as he nuzzled your neck, and breathed in your scent as his hands tighten their grip on you just slightly.

Eddie’s ringed fingers found themselves undoing the button of your jeans, slowly lowering zipper while his other hand grabbed at your hip, anchoring himself as he gazed up at you. His hand slid inside your jeans until his palm pressed against your clothed heat. He then leaned in again, capturing your lips in a slow kiss, and poured everything he couldn’t say out loud into the slide of his tongue against yours, the nip of his teeth at your bottom lip.

His hands move underneath your ass before he scooped you up, gently lying you down on his bed to carefully slide your jeans over your hips and down your legs. Then, he grabbed at your thighs again, spreading them gently as he settled between them before his fingers moved to carefully remove his jacket off your frame, followed by your shirt.

He drank in the sight of your clothed breasts, desire coiling tight in the pit of his stomach before he forced himself to snap out of it.

“I wanna see you in just my jacket, would that be okay?”

With a shaky breath and a nod, you gulped down before your fingers reached behind you to loosen your bra. Eddie slowly slid it off your shoulders before he reached for the jacket, and helped you put it back on. The heavy jacket against your bare skin fuelled his need as he settled between your legs once more, pressing reverent kisses along your inner thighs while working his way up higher. Meeting your gaze again, he sought affirmation before he took his time pulling your panties down slowly.

“Just tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” He murmured as his thumbs brushed softly against your knees. “Any time.”

“O-okay,” you breathed out.

Eddie’s curls brushed softly against your inner thighs as he leaned in, and pressed a tender kiss right above your pussy before taking you into his mouth. His eyes fell closed the second his tongue delved to taste your essence, a shaky, muffled groan escaping him when his pink lips latched onto your clit.

Moans spilled freely from his lips, muffled against your glistening pussy, when his eyes travelled up your body until they found the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and mouth lulling open. Eddie then doubled his efforts as soon as a broken gasp escaped your lips, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit, and alternating between firm flicks and gentle suckling.

“I- fuck, Eddie.”

Gently, he slipped one of his fingers into you, pumping softly in and out of your dripping core while his lips continued latching onto your clit.

“This is all I could think about today,” he whispered softly against your swollen nub, his own eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled down your body until his gaze fell on the way his finger disappeared inside of you. “Eating you out in my bed, wearing only my jacket.”

Another groan escaped his lips when your hand found his curls, tugging harshly at the strands when you felt him gently add another finger into your dripping core.

“Fuck, look at you, Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathily, licking his lips as his gaze travelled up, taking in the way your hard nipples peeked from under your bra, and the way the oversized jacket fell to your sides. “So fucking beautiful, all for me.”

“E-Eddie–”

He could tell you were already getting close by the way your pussy fluttered around his invading digits and the desperate arch of your hips seeking more of his lips. Eddie was desperate to push you over the edge, and sealed his lips around your clit once again and sucked hard, thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster while your slick gushed onto his tongue. He alternated between lock licks and fast flicks, savouring the tangy-sweet taste or your slick coating his tongue, while he curled his two fingers until they rubbed against that special spot.

It didn’t take long for you to clench around his fingers, followed by broken whimpers as you gushed over his chin. Eddie lapped tenderly at your sensitive clit until your thighs twitched around his face, an utterly spent and satisfied hum leaving your lips.

“Jesus,” you mumbled breathlessly. “You… Fuck.”

Something new flickered underneath the adoration in his eyes when he finally pulled himself back from between your legs and shifted over you again, close enough that your noses almost brushed.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he admitted breathlessly, like the words had slipped out before he could stop them. A helpless little smile tugged at the corners of his slick mouth while his hand rose to gently cup your face again.

Your chest rose and fell unevenly while you tried to catch your breath, Eddie’s words still sinking slowly into your bones.

His thumb brushed softly against your cheeks while his gaze lingered on your face, taking in the warmth flooding your skin, the breathless little puffs leaving your lips, and the way you looked back at him like he’d hung the moon himself.

“I’m obsessed with you too,” you whispered quietly before your hand slowly drifted down towards the button of his jeans.

Eddie’s other hand immediately wrapped gently around your wrist, stopping you before your fingers could move any further.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly while licking his lips nervously. “You don’t have to.”

His chest started rising a little faster above you anyway, your fingers still rested lightly against the button of his jeans.

“But I want to,” you whispered back. “Will you show me?”

Eddie’s cheeks somehow flushed even warmer as his brows pulled together, like your words had physically pained him.

“I…” he trailed off, forcing a dry lump down his throat as he suddenly felt far too aware of himself. “Are you sure?”

Your breath caught softly at the uncertainty suddenly flickering across his face – the same boy who had kissed you breathless against the trailer door, and eaten you out, now looked almost nervous above you, like he was terrified of crossing a line he couldn’t uncross. So you lifted your hand from where he still held your wrist and gently pressed your palm against his cheek instead.

“I’m sure,” you whispered softly.

Eddie’s eyes searched yours for another long moment, like he needed to be absolutely certain before the two of you went anywhere further. Then he slowly nodded once, distracted by the shy little smile that had found its place on your lips.

“Okay,” he breathed out shakily.

His hand loosened around your wrist before his fingers intertwined carefully with yours instead, guiding your hand back down with a patience that made warmth bloom all through your chest.

“C’mere,” he murmured quietly, the tips of his ears still flushed red while a nervous little smile tugged at his lips. He pulled you upright and let himself indulge in another kiss. “I’ll… fuck, I'll show you.”

He slowly unbuttons himself before pulling down the zipper, and pulls at his jeans until they pooled around his ankles. He looks painfully hard when he palms himself over his boxers, pulling the material slowly down his thighs until his cock springs out – flushed and leaking at the tip. Eddie’s wrapped a fist around the base, stroking languidly as he gives you another kiss.

“First thing,” he breathed out shakily as his eyes open to look deeply into yours, “come sit between my legs.”

You gulped nervously as your socked feet touched the floor before you did what he just told you. Kneeling on the carpet felt somewhat grounding, even with the muffled scrape and gentle drag on your skin. Your hands grab at his thighs, brushing your thumbs against his skin as you wait patiently for his next instructions.

Eddie’s eyes glistened when he looked down at you – sitting prettily between his legs, your fingers twitching nervously against his thighs while the leather of his jacket shifted softly with every rapid breath you took. Something overwhelmed flickered across his face for a brief second, like he still couldn’t fully process that you were here with him like this. His free hand came up almost instinctively to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face before his thumb lingered gently against your bottom lip.

“Jesus. You’re gonna kill me one day,” he breathed out softly, more to himself than to you. He then gulped down and licked his lips while he continued lazily stroking his cock. “Can you– can you open you lips for me, Sweetheart?”

He moved his thumb away from your bottom lip, and slowly replaced it with his swollen tip.

“Th– this is gonna sound stupid,” he chuckled breathlessly, slightly shaking his head at himself, “but it’s kinda like… sucking on a lollypop?”

Eddie’s cock twitched when you looked up at him – eyes glimmering, slick lips after you gave him an experimental lick – and hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. His hips jerked ever so slightly as you tentatively moved your tongue. Your mouth felt velvety smooth and slick around his cock as you slowly took more of him.

“T-that’s it, Sweetheart,” he groaned softly, furrowing his brows as he tried to burn the image in front of him into his brain: your soft, pink lips wrapped unsurely around his cock with your hard nipples peeking from under his jacket. “T-take– fuck. Take all the time you need.”

His brown eyes fluttered shut when you gave him a tentative suck before you tried getting more of him into your mouth. His free hand brushed softly against your cheek, then slid to the back of your head before curling his fingers into your hair – he didn’t push himself deeper into you, instead, he just held you softly.

“Jesus, just like that, baby,” he groaned out with furrowed eyebrows as he looked back down at you.

His head fell back when he saw the way your eyes glistened and your eyebrows furrowed as your throat strained around his cock.

“I’m– fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpered out, soft yet desperate as you continued bobbing your head tentatively. “I’m close.”

You looked up at him, desperate to see his face as you brought him closer to the edge, and quickened up your pace just slightly. Eddie’s cock twitched as he released into your mouth with one last whimper. He groaned when your tongue continued lapping at his slit, despite the sudden and unusual taste of his tangy cum filling you before you swallowed it down.

Your eyebrows furrowed as he gently pulled at your hair when he started to feel overstimulated, and pulled his cock from between your lips. A string of spit and cum hung between your pink lips and his swollen tip. Eddie blinked tiredly at the view before he wiped his thumb against your bottom lip, his chest rising rapidly as he watched it break and drop down your chest.

“Jesus, fuck,” he gulped nervously.

“W-was that… was that okay?” you asked nervously blinking up at him while you slowly brought your twitching hands back into your lap.

Eddie’s brows shot upwards immediately, clearly not expecting that question to leave your mouth – not after the breathless mess you’d just turned him into. He swallowed hard, his chest still struggling to steady itself.

“O-okay?” His eyes widened before a broken, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “Sweetheart, that was fucking amazing.”

Warmth flooded your face instantly.

His hands immediately found your cheeks again, gently pulling you up and closer towards him like he physically couldn’t help himself.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered breathlessly before crashing his lips back onto yours.

Eddie pulled you back into his lap before wrapping both arms tightly around your frame, pressing your chest flush against his again. The heavy leather of his jacket stayed trapped between the two of you while he pulled you into another soft kiss, softer this time and far less desperate than before.

His hair had become a complete mess from the amount of times he’d dragged his hand through it when you had him in your mouth, loose curls brushing and tickling against your face while you melted further into his touch.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered quietly against your lips.

“I really like you too,” you giggled before closing your lips against his once again.

That pulled a soft, breathless laugh out of Eddie before he kissed you again, smiling so hard against your lips it almost made you laugh. He murmured a teasing yeah? between kisses, though the flushes cheeks and warmth in his eyes completely ruined any attempt at sounding smug.

Your fingers curled gently into the back of his shirt while you nodded against him. “Yeah.”

Something unbearably fond flickered across his face then – something so open and unguarded it almost stole the breath from your lungs all over again.

“Fuck,” he whispered quietly while pulling you impossibly closer against his chest, like he still couldn’t fully believe you were real.  “Good. ‘Cause I think I’m in pretty deep here, Sweetheart.”

His hands found their way to your naked hips, tightening his grip on you. “Especially when you look like this.”

You giggled shyly as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the way you probably looked – breathless, messy hair, his jacket basically swallowing your naked frame.

“Stop it,” you said flustered, brushing your nose against his neck.

“No way, Sweetheart,” he chuckled before placing a quick kiss against your temple. The warmth in Eddie’s laugh rumbled softly underneath your cheek when you buried yourself further into his neck, clearly far too pleased with how flustered he’d made you. “You’re adorable when you do that,” he murmured teasingly while his fingers continued tracing lazy patterns against your hips underneath the oversized leather swallowing you whole.

A groan immediately escaped you.

“No, seriously,” Eddie snorted softly before tilting his head just enough to brush another kiss against your hairline. “You’re sitting in my lap, wearing my jacket and looking all fucked-out and shy. What exactly do you expect me to do with that?”

Your entire body heated up instantly. “Eddie,” you whined into his neck, horrified laughter muffled against his skin.

That only made him laugh harder, breathing dramatically while tightening his arms around you again. “I’m a weak man.”

He gently pulled you away from the crook of his neck, thumbs brushing softly against your hipbones while his eyes searched lazily for yours again.

“You, uh…” Eddie licked his lips, visibly getting distracted for a second by your flushed face and thoroughly kissed-swollen lips before he managed to gather his thoughts again. “You hungry?”

A soft giggle escaped you before you nodded.

“Alrighty,” he mumbled warmly before suddenly scooping you up into his arms just enough to place you carefully back down onto the mattress.

The springs creaked softly underneath you while Eddie leaned over you again, his ringed fingers gently tugging at the sleeves of his jacket still hanging loosely from your frame.

“There they are,” he murmured teasingly under his breath once he finally pulled it free, clearly far too pleased with himself when he caught sight of your naked breasts and still-hard nipples.

“Eddie,” you groaned softly while hiding your face behind your hands.

His laugh came out low and warm while he leaned down to scatter a trail of soft kisses across your cheek and jaw.

“I’m kidding,” he whispered against your skin before pressing one final kiss beneath your ear. “Mostly.”

Your heard drawers opening somewhere behind you before Eddie reappeared beside the bed again, wearing a clean pair of boxers and holding one of his shirts.

“C’mere,” he murmured gently while helping you out of the jacket and pulling the shirt over your head.

The shirt practically swallowed you whole, sleeves falling far beyond your hands while Eddie stared at you for a second longer than necessary afterwards.

“…Okay, maybe I’m not surviving this actually,” he breathed out dramatically.

A few minutes later, your legs dangled from where you sat on the kitchen counter while you watched Eddie frantically move around the kitchen, trying not to somehow burn the pasta he was cooking for the two of you. Your laughter mixed softly with the record playing in the background while Eddie cursed under his breath somewhere near the stove.

The oversized Motörhead long sleeve hung from your frame shifted when you swung your legs lightly against the cabinet beneath you, watching Eddie with warm amusement while golden evening sunlight stretched through the tiny trailer kitchen.

“What?” he asked suspiciously when he caught you staring.

“Just…” A soft smile tugged at your lips while heat immediately rushed into your cheeks. “How easy this feels.”

Your stomach flipped embarrassingly hard the second the words left your mouth. And apparently Eddie noticed too, because his eyes widened slightly in realisation before a smug grin slowly spread across his face. His soft chuckle filled the tiny trailer kitchen, low and warm and completely unrestrained. Then, without warning, he abandoned the stove entirely and crossed the kitchen towards you instead.

“Hi,” he murmured softly once he settled himself between your legs.

Your hands slowly lowered from your face again. “Hi.”

One of his hands settled against your thigh while the other gently brushed your hair behind your ear.

“You look really pretty in my clothes,” he admitted quietly, like the confession had slipped out before he could stop it.

The softness in his voice immediately stole whatever teasing remark you’d been about to throw back at him.

Somewhere behind him, the pot suddenly boiled over with an aggressive hiss.

“Shit,” Eddie yelped before whipping back towards the stove.

Your laughter immediately echoed through the kitchen and into the living room while Eddie pointed accusingly over his shoulder at you.

“This is your fault, Sweetheart.”

⋆˚꩜｡a/n: eeeep!!! we're almost at the last chapter guys :( ugh i love them sm i think i'll cry of how much i'll miss writing them </3 pls lemme know what you thought about it <3 thank you for reading, love u

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As I finish up Chapter 16, I figured I'd drop a little no context hinting... mostly because I sent this to @peterhollandkait and thought everyone else may get a kick out of it. Anyways, link to Chapter 15 from last Friday, and hoping to have Chapter 16 up on this Friday.

May we all get a much needed laugh today.

Reminder to drink water and call a loved one.

Peace and Love, Mae

Series Masterlist

Tag List? Just ask babes

There was an eeriness to the auditorium as you pulled your violin--a different one now, sure; one that was yours entirely and not rented--from its case and you tuned it. The sound of your bow being drawn back and forth echoed over empty seats. You could imagine, in that destined future, that they would be filled.

You finished when you were satisfied with the sound and were about to start practicing when applause suddenly erupted from the back of the auditorium. One set of hands clapping and a grating voice hooting and hollering obnoxiously. You squinted to see past the stage lights, only to scowl as you saw a familiar, irritating silhouette.

"What a great performance," your admirer shouted and whistled up to you. "Encore, encore."

"I haven't started playing yet!" You shouted; you used every bit of self-control not to stomp your foot.

The silhouette scooted forward in its seat. You could hear the sarcastic grin as it responded, "well it sounded pretty good to me."

"Figures that you wouldn't know what tuning sounds like, Munson," you bit out. Finally you used your hand to shield your eyes from the stage lights and you saw the cocky smile that stretched across his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I take naps here between classes. You actually woke me up."

"Tough. This is a closed practice. Get out!"

Eddie jumped to his feet, and started strolling towards the stage. His body language was loose, casual, and felt almost mocking in comparison to your rigid, performance-ready stance.

"Come on now." Eddie's voice dropped to a more normal tone as he got closer. "Why the hostility, Strings?" You rolled your eyes at the nickname. "I could be the audience that you so-clearly think you deserve. You should be a little grateful.”

Bitterness burned the back of your throat.

"Have you ever played for a crowd before?" He continued condescendingly. "Outside of Pachelbel's Canon at your little weddings?"

"Have you?" You shot back. "I think I overheard your buddy Jeff mentioning something about someone falling asleep at your last gig?"

"Ouch." He held a hand over his heart and winced. "Those cheap shots do hurt, you know."

"Here I was hoping that they would kill."

He reached the stage and rested his elbows at the edge of it, then set his face in his hands and stared up at you in a way that, in another reality, could be considered a bit romantic.

You did everything you could not to walk over and kick him in the teeth. He was lucky that you’d worn a skirt today.

"You should stick to music, sweetheart," Eddie sighed. "Comedy does not suit you."

You shot him a sarcastic smile, and were about to throw another insult back at him, when he continued.

"So what are you doing here." His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. "Usually I'm the only one haunting these halls waiting for Jeff to finish up. Barely anyone else take classes on Friday afternoons."

The question made you falter, because surely, it was a trap and he would just use it to lob another insult your way, as was your routine. Somehow, it seemed a lot more innocent than usual. It seemed genuine.

You thought about the risks and benefits of telling him; truly there was nothing to be afraid of but you always believed that if you spoke the truth about something you wanted out loud that you would jinx it. There was a reason that you were here so late on a Friday, that you'd booked the auditorium at the Tri-County Community College when you knew no one else would: you hadn't told anyone about what you were doing. Not your violin instructor, not your friends, no one.

But, standing here, with Eddie of all people, you figured that you had nothing to lose. In fact, he might be one of the few people who actually understood. You had heard him blather on about destiny, after all. Many times, to your extreme annoyance.

So, you took a deep breath and let the truth out in one go, words bunching together unintelligibly as they left your mouth.

His brows knit together now.

"Whats that, Strings?" He huffed a bit of a laugh. "Sorry, I only talk at a hundred miles-per-hour, not listen."

You pursed your lips, and then tried again, slower this time.

"I'mauditioningfortheIndianapolisPhilharmonic."

He blinked up at you once.

Then again.

And then he spoke.

"Does it pay well?"

You laughed at the unexpected response and it echoed throughout the auditorium. Suddenly, there was a weight off your chest that you hadn't realized was there.

"It actually doesn't pay at all," you eventually responded and sighed. "But experience is experience."

"Fuck yeah it is," Eddie smiled up at you. "Shit, what I wouldn't give for...I don't know, a state-wide metal band. Absolutely shredding with a bunch of other guitarists. Bouncing ideas off each other. I have the guys but..."

"...but it isn't the same," you agreed. It was what you sometimes felt about your own group: a ragtag string quartet that you'd strong-armed into existence in the year that you'd been at TCCC. They were good, you all were good. It was hard to get them to have an artistic vision sometimes.

"Good for you," he said sincerely. "What are you gonna play? Hey, no, wait. Let me get a good seat; I'll be your guinea pig."

"You don't know anything about classical music," you scoffed at him, watching incredulously as he backed away from the stage and dropped into a seat a few rows back. "In fact, you've said that you hate classical music."

"Yeah, so?" He shrugged. "I also have a good ear for music in general, plus I can always tell when you get embarrassed. Ergo, even if I hate what I'm hearing, I'm just as likely to be entertained if you fuck it up."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," you deadpanned.

"Anytime!" He grinned. "Now lets get going. What's on deck?"

You went through the pieces that you'd planned for your audition. Mozart's Concerto No. 3 and Dvorak's Songs My Mother Taught Me. Amongst others. But they were favorites. Sentimental things that you'd practiced a thousand times and knew you wouldn't mess up.

Until you did. Until you winced here and there and you saw Eddie's mouth quirk in amusement. Which would throw you off your game, and make you mess up more.

Slowly but surely, you were able to build up a tolerance, were able to look past him and focus on your performance more than him. You'd of course had real performances before, sure; you'd stood on stage many times, from middle school onwards, but you knew that the instructors and conductors that you'd had previously weren't as nearly critical as the Concertmaster at the Philharmonic would be. Not as critical as Eddie was. You felt a sense of gratitude, more than once, that he'd been there to help you find a bit of a flow state to ignore that watchful gaze.

Before you knew it, a half hour went by, and one of custodial staff opened the door to the auditorium to let you know they'd be locking up for the afternoon.

"I guess that means the concert is over," Eddie said, turning back as the custodian left.

"Guess so," you agreed. You quickly packed up your things and Eddie waited until you were ready so you could walk out together. He even held the door for you. Even if he was an ass, he was a bit of a gentlemanly ass.

The two of you walked in silence, through the halls. Eventually, there was a fork where he would turn towards the lit building, where Jeff was finishing up his class, and you would head towards the parking lot. You stared at each other awkwardly, unsure if you should say bye or thanks. Eventually, you swallowed your nerves and asked, "what'd you think?"

"I think you were nervous," he stated after a beat.

"I was," you agreed. "But what did you think?"

"I mean," he shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "We've already established that it's not my cup of tea, but it wasn't bad. Your crescendo's and adagio's and all the o's. Once you stopped looking to see if I noticed where you screwed up..." You groaned and he smirked. "I might even say you were kind of good."

It was a record-scratch moment.

"What?" Your jaw dropped. "What did you say? Did you just say I was good?"

"Don't let it get to your head." He held a hand out to stop your excitement. "You're no Bruce Dickinson, alright?"

"Who's that?"

"God! This!" He threw his arms over his head and screeched. "See, we were having a truce and you went and ruined it. This is why it's better for us not to get along. It's like water and oil, we do not mix. No metal for you, no orchestral compositions for me."

He continued ranting and raving, but you hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder and got him to stop gesticulating into the air wildly.

"Thanks Eddie," you muttered. "For staying. For being my audience."

"Sure. Yeah. It's cool." He reached up, patted your hand with his, and then left it there for a moment or two too long. Then he cleared his throat and backed away; he thumbed over his shoulder. "I gotta go find Jeff."

"Yeah, of course," you nodded.

"Uh..." He sniffed again. "Smell you later, then, I guess."

"Not if I...smell you first," you replied awkwardly.

The two of you turned and went your separate ways.

Until you heard him call out.

"Hey, Strings!"

You glanced back at him.

"Yeah?"

He stared at you for a second, and then continued.

"You're gonna knock 'em dead."

And it might not have been the first time that you'd smiled at Eddie, but it certainly was the biggest.

---

Whiskey's stretched across the dining room rug with the dishwasher humming in the background. You're standing at the sink, drying the same plate again and again as you listen to the wind chimes clink faintly through the open window in front of you. 

Sam notices because you haven't said a word in five minutes. He's at the table with his laptop open in front of him. "You planning on polishing that into a mirror?" He asks, leaning his head on his hand, elbow on the table. 

You glance down at the plate in your hands, sighing as you place it in the cabinet. "Shut up." 

He watches you quietly before turning to his laptop again, looking at the screen. You've been like this all week. He closes the laptop without another comment and then stretches out his legs slightly. "You wanna talk about it? Or you wanna keep standing there staring out the window like you’re haunting the kitchen?" 

You glance over at him, raising your brows so high it’s comical. "I am not haunting the kitchen."

"Yeah, you are." He chuckles. "All you need is a white dress and a little tuberculosis and I think you'd have it handled."

“Fuck off.” You almost smile. You turn your head back down towards the sink full of dishes. "I was just thinking." 

"Uh oh." He teases softly.

You roll your eyes and sigh, not one for it tonight. "Sam."

He pushes back from the table and stands, moving closer to you. He leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest as he looks at you. "About what?" He asks softly.

You hesitate, but he knows. You know he knows. "I don't know." You sigh again, shrugging. "I just thought things would look different by now." 

He nods, inhaling slowly himself as he tries to find a response. All he comes up with is, "different how?" 

You shrug again, not looking at him. "I don't know… Like the house should be messier. We should be tripping over toys in the hallway or something." 

He lets out that breath even slower now, "Whiskey leaves her toys in the hallway all the time." He offers gently. "I've almost eaten shit twice this week."

"That's not the same. You know it's not." You say sadly.

"I know." He agrees and shrugs. Silence embracing you both again as the dishwasher clicks off. 

You tap your fingers against a glass sitting on the dish mat. "I just keep thinking that you— we— deserved that. And I can't really give it to you." Your voice catches in your throat, annoyingly. 

He frowns, straightening his back as he looks at you. "Hey… No. Don’t do that." 

You shake your head almost immediately, "it's not self-pity, I just—"

"It is though." He cuts you off. "And I don't like it." 

You raise your head to meet his eyes. Dark brown and pooling with worry. He lets them scour your face, looking for any sign that you're even more upset at his words. When he doesn't find that, he continues.

"I don’t stay with you for your uterus." He says it flatly.

"Wow. How romantic." You huff.

"You know what I mean." He rolls his eyes, shifting his weight slightly. He uncrosses his arms, running a hand up over his head. "Ive pictured it too. I've pictured you yelling at me about car seats. I’ve pictured stepping on toys at 2am because our hellspawn couldn’t be bothered to put things away. I’ve pictured diapers and onesies and talking to your belly. All of it. I’ve pictured it, babe." He sighs, "I've also pictured losing everything else once too." He adds, a bit quieter. Then he shrugs. "And that one felt a hell of a lot more real. So if I have to pick which fantasy I'm giving up on? Easy." 

You stare at him sadly. 

He just shrugs. Like all of that is nothing. "I want you. I've already got the best thing. I don't need kids." 

Your eyes start to well up before you can stop them. He can't just say shit like that.

He sees it and groans softly, head tipping back as his eyes close. "Ah shit, don't cry. I'm bad at crying. I start saying stupid shit." 

"You're already saying pretty stupid shit." You whisper, wiping a tear from your eyes but a smile is tugging at your lips. 

He smiles a bit as he steps closer to you, guiding you around until you're facing him. Then his hands slide around your waist and slip into the back pockets of your jeans. "You think I'm sitting around here disappointed?" He asks softly. "You think I look at you and go, damn, shame about the statistical probability of that one?" 

You snort, though it sounds more like a cough. "You are such an asshole." 

"Yeah, maybe." He shrugs. "But you've yet to kick me to the curb, so I guess I'm doing something right here." You press your face against his chest as he holds you, breathing in deeply. He lets you, running his hand up and down your back. After another minute or two, he exhales a breath against your hair and smiles a bit. "You know," he starts. "I used to think there was this checklist to living a happy life. My parents had one and they were the happiest people I knew." 

You pull back slightly to look at his face, confused. "A checklist?"

"Yeah. A checklist." He nods, adjusting his arms so they're tucked up closer against you. "Figured we’d graduate. I’d enlist. We get married and buy a house. Have some kids a few years after. Get a dog. That was our key to happiness." 

You almost smile at him again.

"I kept thinking if we didn't follow it exactly, it meant we screwed something up. And I know, I know, i fucked the marriage thing up all to hell and then everything just started happening, the dog, the house, the cars… and they just kept happening until I shipped out." He says softly. Then his mouth twitches up into a smile. “But if this is what we get? I'm okay with that. Our life is perfect just how it is." 

Your throat tightens, and the inside of your cheek feels raw from biting at it. "I just don't want you to resent me."

"For what?!" He scoffs, "Not producing progeny that would inherit my temper and your stubbornness? Think you saved us all. That kid would've been a menace to society." 

"Sam." You repeat.

"I'm serious." He moves one hand and tips your chin up. "I don't resent you. I look at you and I see my girlfriend. The woman who wrote me letters every week when I needed them the most. The woman who dragged me home and refused to let me rot in bed." His thumb brushes the wetness under your eye away. "That's not lacking, okay? And yeah, I'll probably always wonder what a kid of ours would've looked like or acted like. You will too. But wondering isn't the same as resenting. And besides, we've got Whiskey and she's like 2 toddlers combined." 

Whiskey suddenly jolts awake at the sound of her name. She looks around the room, spots you and Sam. She stretches when she stands, grabs her tennis ball, and trots over with her tail wagging hard enough it thumps against the cabinets with a thwack. 

Sam looks down at where she's sat at your feet and chuckles. "Speak of the idiot."

You let out a laugh at that, bending down to pick up the tennis ball before she shoves it into his leg. "She thinks we're being too serious." 

"She's right. Can we stop it?" He chuckles softly. You toss the ball down the hallway. Whiskey tears after it, skidding across the hardwood as she does. Sam leans back against the counter, watching you play with Whiskey. "We're allowed to be sad about it.” He says softly. "I'm not pretending it's nothing, babe. I promise."

"I know you're not." 

"And if that means we get to sleep in on Saturdays," He shrugs, "and take spontaneous road trips, and maybe— I don't know— adopt another eighty-pound creature at some point…" 

You raise your eyebrows as you look at him, "Another one?" 

He nods, "go big or go home, baby. Two of those dumbasses. Double the fur. Double the expenses. We'll complain about vet bills but secretly love every bit of it."

"You'd lose your mind." You laugh softly, tucking back tear-stained hair behind your ear.

"I've already lost my mind, I live with you." Whiskey comes barrelling back down the hall then, nearly wiping out as she turns the corner. You lean into him again and he kisses the top of your head. "You're it for me." He says softly, his hand settling on your lower back as Whiskey stops in front of you.

Only now, you don't feel the burden you've been carrying around for weeks. All you feel is the love he has to share. 

The world felt as if it were falling apart. In fact, it was falling apart. Hawkins had cracked. A gaping hole tore through the town. Ash fell from the sky, snow-like but with a darkness to it. The town shook with earthquakes as buildings fell. Everything in that moment felt hopeless. Vecna had succeeded in opening the four gates.

You. You had failed.

​

You stood just outside of the trailer you had crawled back through, seeing the town start to tear apart. Your eyes shifted up to the person beside you. Eddie. He was badly injured by some demobats, almost didn’t make it out, but you managed to stop the bleeding long enough to get him out of there.

“We…we didn’t make it. We didn’t stop him.” You said in a whisper, your voice shaking as Eddie held an arm across his stomach. There was something about the intensity of the situation that almost made you forget this man, this man who had been your best friend since you were preschool-aged; this man almost died.

​

Eddie finally looked down at you with the smallest bit of tears building up in his eyes. He had tried. He had tried so damn hard to protect this town. For some stupid reason, he was trying to save the town who ultimately hated him.

​

“What now?” Eddie asked in a whisper so soft you almost didn’t hear it. You glanced back at the crack. The upside down was now connected to the real world. You had no idea what would happen now. Whatever it was, it felt devastating. Horrendous. And final. Everything suddenly felt bleak and hopeless.

​

“We find everyone else,” Dustin replied as he stood off to the side. He had returned to the trailer with you after Eddie had been injured. The three of you stood together, watching as the town you had grown up in was becoming something foreign and strange and terrifying.

​

Dustin went to his house first to make sure his mom was okay, while you took Eddie into the trailer to fix him up. He was able to take exactly four steps into the home before he fell onto the couch with heavy breaths.

​

“We need to get these clothes off.” You said as you helped him sit up a bit, pulling the jacket off before carefully pulling off his shirt. He lay back, wincing as you glanced over the cuts he had. Deep ones too. There were so many. You had made some makeshift bandages on a few with his bandana and the bottom half of your shirt. But they were both soaked now with blood.

​

“Is it bad? Lie to me.” Eddie said, that stupid sense of humor he had still seemed to work just fine. You felt the tiniest curl on the corner of your lip as you started to peel back the blood-soaked pieces of cloth.

​

“Barely even a scratch. I think you’ll be fully healed by tomorrow.” You lied, trying to hide the obvious worry that was in your voice. You reached over for the nearest bottle of liquor that sat on the table, something his uncle had always left out. “This is going to sting.”

​

You poured the bottle over the cuts, and Eddie screamed out in pain, along with a few curse words. You hated seeing him like this. You hated seeing the pain you had caused him. He threw his arm up across his forehead as he closed his eyes for a moment.

​

“Sorry…” You whispered as you went to pour a little more. Eddie groaned some more, and his body writhed from the pain. You closed your eyes this time, squinting them as if that would make all of this go away. But it didn’t. Nothing would.

​

You heard sirens in the distance as you dug through the medicine cabinet. Bottles and bottles and bottles of pills. You finally found painkillers along with some needle and thread. It was at least something that could hold off…for now.

​

“Here. Take these.” You said, handing Eddie the pills. He didn’t even hesitate before popping them in his mouth and dry swallowing them. He let out a sigh as his body rested more into the couch.

​

“You didn’t have to do all this. You could’ve just left me there to die, you know?” Eddie mumbled out as you started to carefully stitch him back together. He spoke through winces, though they seemed to be getting smaller as the medicine kicked in.

​

“Why on Earth would I leave you there to die?” You asked with a concentrated tone. You pulled the thread back, watching as the skin slowly started to pull back together just a bit. Eddie let out the smallest little sigh, his head turning to the side so he could watch you.

​

“Because maybe that’s what I was meant to do.” He finally said, and the words alone made you stop what you were doing. You hated those words. Why would he ever be meant to die in the upside down? To you, it made no sense. To Eddie, it was the sacrifice he thought he had to make to protect this town.

​

“You’re delirious with pain. Stop talking.” You finally said after a moment as you went back to cleaning him up. After getting all of the wounds cleaned and stitched, you placed some large bandages and wraps over them.

​

“Am I clean and saved now?” Eddie asked as you grabbed a blanket and tossed it over him. You sat on the floor beside the couch, tilting your head at him as you pulled your knees up to your chest.

​

You and Eddie met as kids and immediately clicked. The two of you would ride tricycles together through the trailer park. You were nearly inseparable. Even when your mother remarried to an insurance salesman, and you moved to the suburbs, you still hung out every single day after school. Your friendship was unmatched.

​

“Here to stay for another 30 years. Minimum.” You teased softly as Eddie turned his head to let his dark eyes meet yours. The smallest smile crawled across his face as his color slowly started to return.

​

“Woohoo.” He said in the most sarcastic and quiet tone. You let out the tiniest laugh as you let your head tilt back just a bit. For a world that was falling apart, this moment felt like nothing but calm.

​

The door opened, and Eddie’s uncle stumbled in. His eyes were wide as he seemed to be wanting to catch his breath. Eddie sat up a bit, a groan coming out from moving too quickly.

​

“Thank God you’re okay,” Wayne said as he walked towards the two of you. He glanced down at Eddie’s injuries before looking at you. His eyes went between the two as he tried to take everything in.

​

“Are you alright? What happened?” He asked, and you quickly stumbled to your feet.

​

Fuck. Think of something. Quick.

​

“He’s fine. Or, well, he will be. We were outside near the playground. It collapsed during the earthquake, and Eddie got hurt, but I helped him.” You managed to say as Wayne’s eyes shot back to Eddie, who just nodded his head.

​

“Yeah. Exactly that.” He said in agreement. Wayne nodded, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding. He glanced around as the sirens started to get louder in the distance.

​

“I’m going to go check on the neighbors. Stay here.” He said, pointing to the two of us. Thankfully, Wayne was never really one for questioning us. He walked out of the trailer and left us alone inside.

​

You stared for a moment longer before sitting back down beside Eddie. Your eyes went to his once more as he settled into the couch. He let his head roll to the side as his curls followed him. One thing you always liked: those damned curls.

​

“You don’t have to stay here all night, you know?” Eddie said in that soft voice he only ever seemed to use when he was around you. You let out a small laugh, pulling your knees to your chest once more.

​

“Where else would I go? I mean, Hotel Munson is pretty hard to give up.” You teased as Eddie let out the smallest laugh under his breath. You could tell his eyes were getting heavy, the adrenaline of everything starting to crash as his body relaxed from the pain medicine.

​

“Then stay. At least until I fall asleep.” He whispered as his eyes started to close. If you stayed until he fell asleep, you’d be gone in five minutes. You smiled just a bit as you reached up and pushed back one of his curls.

​

“Goodnight, big hair.” You whispered, teasing that nickname you had called him since he was just a small kid with a mop of curls on his head.

​