She licked her lips – completely forgetting about the pink lipstick she’d put on before leaving home this morning – and let out a quiet, thoughtful huh.

Something about you felt off – just enough that she couldn’t quite place it.

The sun finally stopped piercing your eyes as you stepped under the covered entrance, the sunglasses you’d been wearing now pushed up to rest on top of your head, retired for the time being.

“Morning,” you said, a little too casually when you got close enough to the blonde.

Nathalie’s gaze flicked from your face to your hips one more time, then back again.

“Loud music, questionable fashion, and whatever that walk was,” she said dramatically, almost like she was reading from a Shakespearean play. “What happened?”

A quiet huff slipped from your nose as you glanced around, like you were contemplating whether you really wanted to say it out loud.

Because saying it out loud meant thinking about it – and that’s exactly what you were trying not to do, not this early in the day.

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmured.

“Oh, no, no, no,”  she shot back, shaking her head like a worried bobblehead. “You can’t say that and actually expect me not to worry.”

The forming scowl made it impossible to answer right away, and for a moment, the impatient – yet slightly worried – silence between you filled with the noise of teenage drama in the background – loud conversations, annoyed morning groans, the sharp hiss of hairspray somewhere nearby.

Your eyes flicked back to Nathalie, brows still furrowed.

“I went to–”

The words cut off as your brain short-circuited for a split second as your gaze drifted over Nathalie’s shoulder, catching a familiar all-black figure stepping closer to the entrance.

Nathalie’s brows pulled together into her own scowl almost immediately, her eyes snapping back to your face when your sentence died halfway through.

“Hey, you okay?” she pressed – not overly impatient, but still leaning in like she was about to drag the rest out of you herself.

Her eyes narrowed when she noticed you weren’t looking at her anymore. Slowly, she turned her head, following your line of sight over her shoulder – just in time to catch him.

Eddie walked past the two of you like he hadn’t noticed you at first – all black, careless movements and bouncy curls, his lunchbox hanging loosely at his side.

But then his eyes flicked up.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips the second his gaze landed on you – before he looked ahead again, like nothing happened, and kept walking into the school. It was quick enough that you might’ve missed it if you hadn’t been looking at him already – and it still had more of an effect on you than you expected.

Nathalie turned back to you slowly, her arched brow lowering as it all sank in.

“Oh my God,” she said, her lips twitching.

She glanced around quickly, making sure no one was listening.

“Did you lose your virginity last night?” she whispered, pointing at you like she’d just cracked the case.

“Jesus, Nathalie.”

“No, don’t ‘Jesus, Nathalie’ me,” she cut in immediately, eyes lighting up.

Her question hit you harder than they should have.

You blinked a few times too many, like that might reset whatever had just short-circuited in your brain.

Your chest rose a little too quickly, breath catching somewhere between your ribs as the noise around you seemed to rush back in all at once – lockers slamming down the hall, someone complaining about homework a few feet away.

You swallowed, dragging your gaze away from Nathalie just a second, like the entrance floor suddenly required your full attention.

“No,” you muttered under your breath, trying – and failing – to sound as unaffected as you wanted to be. “Of course not.”

She didn’t respond right away, but her eyes stayed on you, scanning your face like she was waiting for something to crack.

Her head tilted slightly as she hummed, her gaze dropping briefly – to your clothes, your posture, the way you suddenly seemed in a hurry to get inside, like you were trying to escape her – before snapping back up.

“But you got close to it, didn’t you?”

It didn’t sound like a question. More like she already knew the answer and was just waiting for you to say it out loud.

Her hand came up to point at you again, more accusatory this time.

“You, me, lunch,” she said, punctuating each word as she waved her finger in your face to shush you the second you tried to open your mouth. “You’re giving me all the details.”

A sarcastic scoff slipped past your lips, like you weren’t about to fold anytime soon.

You absolutely did when lunchtime came around.

You can just show me.

The words – sweet, and thick like dripping honey – echoed in Eddie’s ears as his eyes stayed fixed on your face, his pupils darkening just slightly at the sound of your voice.

Eddie swallowed past the dry lump in his throat, letting the silence stretch just a little longer between you as his hand tightened slightly on your thigh.

“Yeah?” he whispered softly, like his mouth had moved before his mind could catch up.

He licked his lips before continuing.

“Can’t promise I’ll be able to stop.”

A soft, cheeky grin tugged at your lips as yours grip on his cheek loosened, your free arm sliding around his neck as you pulled your chest almost flush to his.

The gulp Eddie forced down his throat when you pressed your breasts against him didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’ve been doing a pretty bad job at stopping so far.”

His grip on your thigh tightened instinctively, fingers pressing and rings digging a little deeper like he needed something solid to hold onto.

Then the hand at your hip slid up your side, slow and less controlled, until it finally settled at your back, pulling your closer like he’d already made up his mind.

His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, to the bare line of your neck, before he leaned in and pressed a kiss just beneath your jaw.

“Can’t blame me,” he murmured against your skin, quieter now, more to himself than to you.

“Pretty thing in my lap?” he tsked against your skin, pressing slow kisses along your neck, the touch unhurried like he was testing how far he could go.

The soft vibrations of his voice against your neck sent a sharp shiver down your spine, the hairs at the nape of your neck rising alongside with the hardening reaction of your nipples before you could either.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of him pressing slow, lingering kisses into your skin, his tongue brushing softly between them.

Your fingers curled into his hair, giving a tentative tug before guiding him closer – pushing his face a little deeper into the curve of your neck.

A shaky exhale slipped past your lips, warmer now, a little less steady.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re trying very hard,” you murmured, your voice unsteady as his teeth grazed lightly along your skin.

He dragged his tongue over the spot he’d just bitten, slow and deliberate, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Little hard when you’re making those pretty noises for me, Sweetheart.”

Eddie’s ringed hand at your back dragged slowly down your spine, leaving small, burning trails in its wake before settling back at your hip, fingers curling into the fabric.

His head felt hazy, clouded with a soft kind of dizziness – whether from the half-smoked joint, your quiet, breathy sounds, or a combination of both, he didn’t really know.

For a second, he let himself sink into it – into the easiness of it all.

Nathalie wasn’t the only best friend who had noticed something different lingering in the air that day.

If there was anything Jeff prided himself on, it was his ability to read people like an open book – especially when they weren’t trying to be obvious.

He noticed it the second Eddie dropped into his seat – and it wasn’t because of the apple he’d brought today.

Second time this week, mind you.

He saw it in the way Eddie leaned back just a little too easily, like something had finally settled under his skin. The way his fingers drummed against the table – steady, not in the usual hurried, restless rhythm they fell into when he was bored or nervous.

Dustin, ever the observant prick, immediately noticed the way Jeff’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“What?” he asked, already halfway through whatever story he’d been rambling about, not even pausing to breathe.

“Nothing,” Jeff replied, still watching Eddie.

Which, coming from Jeff? Yeah, that definitely didn’t mean nothing.

“No, no, no, you don’t get to do that,” Dustin cut in, pointing his greasy finger at him. “You can’t just look at him like you’ve figured something out and then not tell the rest of us.”

“Wait, what did he figure out?” Mike asked, glancing between them in his perpetual confused scowl.

Jeff ignored the two boys, his gaze still fixed on Eddie – taking in the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way he looked like he was trying not to look like he was in a good mood.

“Just saying, man,” Jeff shrugged finally, leaning back in his chair.

Gareth looked up from his cold pizza, following Jeff’s line of sight.

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “Something definitely happened.”

Mike blinked. “Is somebody going to tell me what happened?”

The conversation at the Hellfire table lulled for a moment as the background noise took over.

Nobody bothered to answer Mike.

Dustin pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, his eyes narrowing as the gears under his stupid Thinking Cap started turning a little too fast for Eddie’s liking.

“Is this about the babe in cowboy boots?” he asked. “She still in town?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. “No.”

Maybe just a little too fast, because that just made Jeff’s brow lift slightly.

Eddie’s jaw shifted as he leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand through his hair like that might undo what he’d just unleashed.

“It’s not,” he added, a little more controlled now.

Dustin’s eyes lit up immediately.

“If it’s not her,” he said, pointing at him like he’d just struck gold, with that all-knowing lopsided grin Eddie hated spreading across his face, “that means it’s someone else.”

Mike blinked, his head moving side to side like he was watching a live tennis match.

“Wait– so there is a girl?

“Jesus, yes, Wheeler,” Gareth mumbled between bites. “We’ve established that, like, ages ago. Pay attention, man.”

Eddie groaned, dragging both hands down his face.

“There’s no–” he started, then stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Jeff and Gareth exchanged a look – which, by the way, Dustin did not appreciate being left out of – before snorting almost simultaneously.

“Yeah,” Gareth muttered, shaking his head as he took another bite.

“He’s screwed,” Jeff finished for him.

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, the boys slipped back into their conversations, picking at their lunch like nothing had happened at all.

Eddie turned his apple slowly in his hand, eyes unfocused, and his mind somewhere else entirely. The rings on his fingers caught the cold fluorescent light just enough for the reflection to sting his eyes and pull him back to the present.

The sound of your voice definitely had nothing to do with the way he sat up a little straighter in his chair.

It wasn’t sharp, nor was it loud – but somehow, the sound of your voice carried across the cafeteria until it invaded the Hellfire table.

He didn’t look up right away; he didn’t need to. He’d heard it enough by now to recognize it without even trying.

It still made Eddie’s fingers still against the apple.

His jaw locked for a second before he raised it and took another bite, slower this time, like he was buying himself a second.

But then he exhaled through his nose, slower than usual, as his grip tightened around the apple as he tried his best to keep staring at the table.

Now he was aware of it – how you pulled his attention away without even trying.

Before he could stop it, his head lifted towards you, and there you were: sitting two tables down, leaning in just slightly as you spoke to Nathalie – the sunlight catching in your hair, your hand playing with a wrapper of something he couldn’t really place from where he sat.

And if Jeff’s eyes followed his line of sight towards the two pretty girls sitting two tables down, he didn’t show it – especially not with Dustin around.

Little prick always had to meddle in thing that didn’t concern him.

Jeff’s gaze flicked back to Eddie, something glinting in his eyes as a knowing smile tugged at his lips.

He ignored the way his grip tightened around the apple, hard enough for his rings to press into his fingers.

He dragged his eyes away, jaw locked as he leaned back in his chair like that might fix it.

But now he was too aware of it – the way you moved, the way you laughed just a little harder than the rest of the room, the way his attention kept snapping back to you like it had nowhere else to go.

“Dude,” Gareth muttered low enough that only Jeff caught it.

Eddie took another bite – sharper this time, like that might ground him back into something normal.

It didn’t.

Not when his eyes flicked back for a second time – like they hadn’t learned it the first time – and noticed the way Zack dropped into the seat across from you, like he’d done it a hundred times before.

The view made his tongue press against the inside of his cheek as he watched the way you turned slightly, the way your shoulders shifted – not pulling away, but not leaning in either.

It looked all just too… easy. Like nothing had changed.

And there it was.

Yeah, too good to be true.

The creamy hallways oozed with loud chatter, teenage drama and squeaky steps until it swallowed him whole the second he stepped out of the cafeteria.

It was almost too easy to let himself drown in the noise, the constant movements, and all the ‘too much of everything’ happening around him.

But then he slowed his steps as soon as he saw you standing there, leaning against the lockers, too close to ignore.

You had noticed him first – of course you did – shimmering eyes waiting with an openness he wasn’t used to.

And that was the problem – because now he had to decide what this was.

What you were, and what last night meant.

Eddie’s jaw tightened, because – yeah, no.

He wasn’t about to do this – not here, and not like this.

Eddie looked away first and stepped past you like nothing had happened.

The noise didn’t swallow him as easily this time, but he let it try anyway.

The sharp clang of Nathalie’s locker slamming shut pulled you back from the momentary lapse in your focus.

“Are you even listening?"

You blinked, a little too slow, while your gaze dragged away from where it had been fixed just seconds ago.

“Yeah,” you muttered while adjusting the strap of your bag like that might make it more convincing. “I am.”

Nathalie didn’t look too convinced when she took in the way your attention slipped away again, back to the hallway.

She moved her head in search of whatever had been more interesting that the latest gossip she had been telling you about.

It wasn’t hard for her to find the cause – not when he was moving towards you, slower than the crowd, like he’d noticed you just as much as you had noticed him.

Your shoulders straightened slightly without you meaning to, like your body had already decided something before your head could catch up.

A softer expression had started taking over your face as you kept waiting for something – a word, a look, anything.

But nothing came – he just let his gaze drop towards the tiled floor.

And just like that, he walked past you. Like you had never been standing there at all.

Something sharp and confusing settled in your chest as it tightened, your eyes following him down the hallway until he disappeared around the corner, while Nathalie’s brows pulled together tightly as she saw it all unfold.

“What the hell was that about?” she muttered beside you, slow and suspicious.

You swallowed, and forced your eyes away from the creamy hallway that suddenly felt too empty.

“Nothing,” you said quietly.

The words didn’t sound convincing, not even to your own ears, and Nathalie didn’t bother to pretend to believe you either.

You could feel it – the way her eyes stayed on your face, sharp and searching for something to slip.

“Yeah, right,” she said slowly, dragging out the words with heavy doubt.

You ignored her and turned around to your locker, busying yourself with the combination even though you didn’t need anything from it.

The metal door screeched a little too loud when you pulled it open.

“Don’t do that,” Nathalie said immediately, her head tilted back and slight worry taking over her eyes.

You frowned. “Do what?”

“That thing,” she gestured vaguely at you. “Where you act like nothing happened when something clearly just happened.”

You huffed quietly, eyes dropping to the mess of books and scattered mid-term papers in your locker.

“I’m telling you, nothing happened,” you repeated, weaker this time.

“Oh, please.” Nathalie just arched a brow and forced out a snort, crossing her arms. “Because he totally just walked by like he is avoiding you.”

That made your fingers still around your Biology book – long enough for Nathalie to notice it.

“Oh. He is avoiding you,” she breathed, leaning in slightly. “What happened?.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you shut your locker a little harder than necessary. “I don’t know what I…”

Nathalie tilted her head at the force you used, studying you for a second longer like she was piecing it together in real time.

“Then go ask him,” she said simply.

You let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “Yeah, because he seems really open to answering questions now.”

She pressed her lips together as she glanced down the hall, following the invisible remains of his steps, then back at you.

“Obviously, not here,” she waved her hand vaguely at the chaos around you. “He’s not gonna talk in the middle of all this.”

You didn’t answer, but Nathalie could see something in your mind had shifted by the way your expression changed into something more subtle.

“You just had an idea,” she narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly.

Nathalie stared at you, long enough to make it annoying, like that somehow would make you share whatever it was with her.

“Seriously, you gotta stop saying that.”

You rolled your eyes as you reached for the first notebook in front of you, opening it up and tearing a small piece of paper from the corner.

She kept asking about what you were doing, but you just ignored her as you kept scribbling on the torn paper.

You tried to angle it away when you felt her standing closer and on her toes, trying to peek over your shoulder for the faintest glimpse of whatever you had been writing.

You don’t know why you even tried hiding it from her; when Nathalie put her mind to something, she’d get it. Every single time.

“You know what? Hell yeah,” she muttered, delighted.

You didn’t bother answering, and just folded the paper until it somehow didn’t feel as intentional as it felt doing it.

Thursdays meant Algebra for last period – which, in turn, usually meant Eddie wasn’t around to sit through fifty minutes of hellish numbers and demonic letters.

But Thursdays also meant business.

People had plans on Fridays – which meant they handled things the day before. No one wanted to stick around school longer than they had to, especially not at the end of the week.

Over the years, Eddie had claimed a few spots in and around the building and made them his own – the drama room, kingdom of Hellfire; the music room, obviously; and last, but definitely not least, the little picnic table behind the school.

Tucked just far enough behind a line of trees that no teacher could see anything in real time.

So instead of Algebra, his last period was spent there – leaning back against the rough wood, waiting for pimple-faced experimenters and seasoned stoners alike to part the sea of leaves and keep his supply running.

Thursdays at Hawkins High meant nothing out of the ordinary.

So when a folded piece of torn paper fell out of Eddie’s locker as he shoved away all the shit he didn’t need to bring home, he wasn’t really all that surprised.

Especially not when he read the hurriedly written words.

Picnic table. Last period.

He didn’t think too much about it – he never really did when it came to dealing.

He just pursed his lips, raised his brows in a quiet yeah, bet, and slammed his locker shut.

The picnic table sat exactly where it always did – half-hidden behind the trees, and quiet enough to keep things out.

Eddie placed his lunchbox on the table as he dropped onto the bench, stretching his legs before lighting a cigarette while he waited.

It was peaceful, for a while; the way the rays of sunshine filtered through the leaves onto him, warming up his face without overheating him; the way the birds chirped somewhere in the distance. 

But it didn’t take long for the peaceful quiet to be disturbed with the sound of shifting leaves somewhere behind him.

“You’re late,” he muttered as he looked at his watch, not bothering to turn around right away.

But then the footsteps behind him slowed, before whoever it was had gotten close to the table, until they stopped altogether.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d come,” you mumbled.

Eddie stilled, and accidentally dropped his cigarette onto the table, half forgotten.

He turned in his seat, just enough for his eyes to confirm what his ears had just heard.

And there you were – standing between two trees, like you weren’t entirely sure if you’d gotten the right place.

Eddie felt like his brain had short-circuited for a moment, because this? This didn’t make any sense.

“You wrote this?” he asked, holding up the note between his fingers.

And there it was again – that same feeling from earlier.

That itchy feeling under his skin that kept whispering too good to be true.

Eddie wrapped his hand around the handle of his lunchbox, already half-standing from his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever was about to unfold; he had better shit to do than stay for this.

“Typical,” he muttered under his breath.

“Don’t give me that shit,” you said, lips pressing together as your patience slipped at how quickly he tried to shut you down.

Eddie huffed a quiet breath through his nose, glancing off to an old American beech, like it could tell him if staying was even worth it.

It didn’t respond like he wanted it to; it just stood still while its leaves danced softly with the almost nonexistent breeze.

“What exactly were you expecting?”

Your brows pulled together, a flash of something sharp crossing your face.

“I was expecting you not to act like last night never happened.”

That made him let out a short, humourless huff as he dragged a hand through his hair.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he muttered, an exasperated tone hardening in his voice. “You don’t get to show up, do whatever that was, and then just–”

He cut himself off, jaw tightening as he gestured vaguely between the two of you.

“… this.”

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

Eddie’s expression faltered, like he wasn’t really expecting for you to react like that, to stand up for yourself.

His eyes dropped to his shoe as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, like he was trying to find the right words that didn’t quite come.

“It means I don’t know what you want from me,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose. “You’re confusing as Hell.”

“I’m confusing? Seriously?” You let out a humourless huff, shaking your head in disbelief. “I told you exactly what I–”

“You didn’t tell me shit,” he cut in, voice sharper now.

Eddie’s jaw hardened as he dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through the movement. He stood up from the bench, throwing his hand around like it helped him gather his thoughts.

“You said you weren’t experimenting,” he continued, quieter but still tense. “And then–”

“…you start acting like it meant something.”

“Because it fucking did,” you shot back, your voice rising despite yourself. “It fucking does mean something.”

The words hung there, heavier than you expected.

You looked away, licking your lips like it might somehow steady you – like it might stop you from saying something stupid.

“I don’t go around hooking up with the first guy I see, Eddie,” you added, quieter now, your gaze fixed somewhere past him. “Not just for the Hell of it.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Eddie’s eyes stayed on you – even when you refused to look at him – like he was trying to figure out if your words held any truth to them, as if it would somehow make this all easier.

His gaze dropped briefly to your hands, taking in the way your fingers curled into themselves like you were holding something in; the way you wouldn’t look at him, and the way your voice had cracked, even when you tried to hide it.

And then it hit him – you weren’t kidding.

You meant all of it.

Eddie exhaled slowly through his nose, something in his expression shifting into something quieter.

“You’re serious,” he said quietly. “You’re not messing with me.”

Your breath caught slightly at the way his voice had shifted into something softer, almost like it was an afterthought, or something that he hadn’t meant to say out loud.

“I told you yesterday,” you said, softer this time, finally lifting your eyes to his. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Something in Eddie’s expression finally seemed to have settled, like something had finally clicked into place.

He shifted his foot forward slightly, but then stopped.

His jaw tightened again, not as sharp as before, but just enough to remind himself of something.

“Yeah,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You did.”

The silence settled in after that – thick and unfamiliar, like the air didn’t quite know what to do with itself now that the shouting had stopped.

A soft breeze moved through the spring leaves, filling the space neither of you seemed willing to touch.

Eddie dropped back down onto the bench, arms crossed before the restless itch in his hands got the better of him. He reached for his lunchbox, flipping it open and pulling out his pack of yellow Camels.

You shifted your weight as you watched him and the way he moved; the way he slid a cigarette between his lips like this had turned into something heavier than he’d expected.

He took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs as his teeth worried at the loose skin beside his thumbnail. He let it burn there for a second longer than necessary before finally exhaling.

A quiet huff escaped his nose as he let the silence stretch just a little longer as he contemplated his next words.

“Saw you at lunch,” he said finally, a little too casual, like he needed it to sound like it didn’t matter as much as it did. “What was that about?”

Eddie looked down to his shoes, suddenly interested in how much time it had been since he last scrubbed them clean.

“English group project,” you muttered with furrowed brows, not really understanding where this was coming from. “You know that.”

He let out a quiet huff through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching around the filter like he didn’t quite buy it.

“Yeah,” he muttered, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. “Seemed a little too comfortable for a group project.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened again as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, shrugging one shoulder like he didn’t care enough for whatever you were about to say next.

“Do you actually hear yourself right now?” your brows pulled at that. “You’re the one acting like none of this means anything, and now you’re– what? Questioning who I sit with?”

Eddie’s head tilted slightly at that, his tongue pressing against his teeth.

“Fuck’s sake, that is not what I’m–”

“It kinda sounds like it is,” you cut in, arms crossing over your chest. “I told you I ended it.”

Eddie’s hand stilled mid-air, just before the cigarette reached his lips as he flicked his eyes to you.

“I know what you said,” he replied, hesitation taking over his voice. He took another drag, then a smaller one, and threw the tainted filter on the ground. “But it didn’t look like it.”

Your expression shifted slightly at the unsure sound of his words, just enough to soften the sharpness of your next words.

“I’m not one of those mean girls that do it in front of the whole school, Eddie,” your voice sounded steadier now. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen just because you didn’t see it.”

Your words lingered longer than anything else had – something heavier settling somewhere under his skin in a way that made his jaw move.

His gaze dropped to the ground, settling on the burnt leaf beneath hat remained of his cigarette as he let it replay in his head.

Truth is, you were normal about it – you didn’t lean in, didn’t reach out or anything. Just… normal.

Eddie’s ringed fingers flexed once at his side, like he needed to get rid of the rest of that restless edge; it didn’t bother to come back.

You watched it happen – the subtle shift in him, the way he wasn’t pushing anymore.

You hesitated for a second, but then stepped forwards anyway. Not too close – just enough to close the distance between you by a fraction.

“Why don’t you come over later?” you said, softer now. “So we can talk about… this. Without anyone around.”

Eddie didn’t answer right away.

He kept his gaze lowered, like the ground had suddenly become more interesting than whatever just left your mouth – more manageable.

For a second, he thought about saying no and just brush it off, before it turned into something easier than it actually was.

His jaw shifted again.

Then he moved – subtle, and restless – adjusting his footing against the bench before dragging a hand through his hair.

You noticed something quieter in his eyes when he finally lifted his gaze to yours.

“Yeah,” he said.

The word came out low, like he didn’t fully trust it yet.

He let it linger for a second, and then cleared his throat, giving a small nod.

“Yeah, alright.”

Once, many moons ago, your parents met at the theatre when they were about your age.

Your dad had been there with his friends. Your mom had been on a date with someone else – which, if you really thought about it, was kind of weird.

But then a lanky, clumsy twenty year old buy stumbled into a pretty girl in a shift dress.

His favourite colour, too.

Coincidentally, it happened on a Thursday – and somehow, twenty-one years later, they still tried to go to the theatre every other Thursday.

Which meant you had the entire house for yourself tonight.

And for once, you weren’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

Not with the way the house creaked and groaned as it settled, the silence stretching into every corner until it pressed in on you – quiet, but not quite peaceful.

It stretched too far, and too thin, warping the rooms just enough to make everything feel out of place.

You tried to ignore it at first, busying your hands with something pointless and small – like watering the plants even though you knew your mom had already done that this morning, or reorganizing the pantry.

None of it helped.

Because the quiet wasn’t the problem – nor were the canned tomatoes.

It was what came with it: too much open, empty space to think, and replay everything you’d said.

Everything you hadn’t.

Your eyes flicked to the clock before you could stop them – then again, and again.

It hadn’t been that long, even though it felt like it.

You huffed softly under your breath, dragging your hands over your jorts before pushing yourself off the kitchen counter.

This was ridiculous – and so were you.

He said yes, that he’d come.

And that should’ve been enough.

Except it wasn’t – not when the seconds stretched like this, achingly slow and uneven, like they were waiting for something to happen just as much as you were.

Your feet carried you out the kitchen without much thought, down the hallway and into the living room, where the silence somehow felt even louder.

You walked to the window, fingers brushing against the curtain before pulling it aside just enough to glance outside.

Nothing, of course.

You let it fall back into place, pressing your lips together as you turned away again – only to stop hallway across the room.

What if he didn’t come?

The knot in your stomach tightened, your gaze dropping to the floor as you tried to shove the thought away.

You huffed softly, almost laughing at yourself this time, and shook your head.

“Get it together,” you muttered under your breath.

But your eyes betrayed you anyway as they drifted back to the window again – just in case.

A knock came – so faint you almost thought you imagined it, but loud enough to still you.

Then it came again, a little louder this time.

You tried slowing your step – in case he could somehow hear the desperation in them from the other side of the door – but it didn’t do much.

You reached it faster than you meant to, and pulled it open.

Eddie’s shoulders were slightly hunched, one hand shoved deep into the pocket of his jeans while the other hung loose at his side – rings catching the warm evening light whenever his fingers shifted.

His weight rested unevenly, like he hadn’t quite yet decided if he was staying or leaving.

His gaze lingered somewhere off to the side first, dragging over the porch as his jaw tightened briefly, before easing again.

Then it found you – a second too late. Like it had taken him a moment longer than it should have.

“You came,” you whispered, like you didn’t quite believe what you were seeing.

“You asked,” he replied, giving a small nod, like he was keeping time with a beat only he could hear.

For a moment, you just stood there – one hand curled tightly around the doorknob, the other splayed against the heavy wood like it might slip at any second.

He didn’t step inside right away – like stepping any closer might make it real.

His eyes flicked past you, into the house – quick, like he wasn’t trying to be obvious about it.

Then he shifted his weight again, fist tightening in his pocket.

“So…” he started, clearing his throat.

“You’ve seen my room,” he added, a small crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Feels only fair, right?”

You hesitated for a second, long enough to notice the way he hadn’t stepped in yet.

Instead of calling him out on it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, opening the door a little wider.

“Careful,” you said lightly, tilting your head. “Might ruin the mystery.”

He hummed, fingers tapping once against the doorframe before he finally stepped in.

“Should I take off my shoes?” he asked, glancing down when he noticed your socked feet against the wood floor.

“Oh please,” you said, shaking your head as you closed the door behind him. “Don’t worry about it, we’re not like that.”

Eddie’s eyes moved slowly through the space, taking it in piece by piece.

The first thing he noticed were the smiling faces – frozen in time, framed and lined along the walls. Two childhood drawings hung beside them, carefully kept like they still mattered.

The whole place felt… warm. Not just in temperature – but in the way it settled into the walls, like it had been lived in properly. Taken care of.

His jaw shifted.

“So this is how the other half lives, huh?” he said, his gaze lingering a second too long on one of the framed drawings. “Museum pieces on the walls and all that.”

“What can I say?” you shrugged lightly. “Picasso has nothing on me.”

A small smile found its way onto Eddie’s lips.

For a moment, you just stood there – taking in the way his eyes moved around the room, the way they lingered.

“You want anything to drink?”

Eddie smacked his lips, his eyes still glued to the childhood drawings like they were the most intricate museum pieces he’d ever seen.

“Nah, it’s alright.”

You nodded, licking your lips as you tried to figure out what to do next.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

That was more than enough to pull Eddie’s attention away from the unnaturally large, flower-crowned head of your father, and back to you.

“Lead the way, Sweetheart.”

It was a short walk from the entrance to the second floor, and yet it felt longer than it ever had before.

You were suddenly too aware of everything – how your socked feet moved against the floor, how Eddie followed close enough that you could almost feel the warmth radiating from him. Every step creaked and groaned under your weight, every pair of eyes from the walls silently judging the awkward way you made your way to your bedroom.

And then there was the hesitation when you reached the door – like all of a sudden you’d become too aware of everything inside.

The ugly wallpaper you and your dad hadn’t torn off yet. The gigantic Bon Jovi poster hanging above your bed. That stupid – but very loved – childhood plushie you’d forgotten to hide away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and stepped inside.

Eddie lingered outside for a second longer than necessary, letting his eyes wander before following you in.

You found yourself wondering if he had felt this self-conscious when you were in his room for the first time.

He stepped fully inside, turning slightly to take in what he couldn’t see from the hallway.

“Didn’t picture you as a Bon Jovi fan,” he said, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips.

“Is that good or bad?”

“For you? Good.” His eyes flickered back to you before drifting towards your desk, something else already catching his attention. “In general? Bad. Absolute disgrace to the rock genre.”

That pulled a quiet chuckle from you as you stepped closer to your bed.

You watched him for a moment – taking in the way he stood there, how his attention lingered a little too long on your bookshelf, how sharply he contrasted against the pastel yellow wallpaper.

How easy it all suddenly felt.

Until his curious fingers stilled on a certain orange spine, pulling it free from between the others. He turned back to you slowly, brows lifting as a grin spread across his face – all teeth and trouble.

“Oh ho, Sweetheart,” he let out, a new kind of sparkle settling in his eyes. “The Dancers at the End of Time, huh?”

Your stomach dropped the second the words left his mouth, and you were off the bed before you could think better of it, reaching for the book in his hands.

That only made him laugh harder as he lifted it out of reach, holding it high above you.

“Oh, c’mon,” he laughed, lifting the book even higher when you reached for it. “Didn’t peg you for this kind of reader, Sweetheart.”

You stepped closer again, reaching higher this time until your fingers brushed against his wrist, before curling around it.

“Eddie–”

“Hm?”

He didn’t pull away, and didn’t lift the book any higher, either.

For a second, it was like he forgot what he’d been doing – his eyes dropping briefly to where your hand held his wrist, then back up to your face.

Something in his expression shifted – a subtle glimmer in his eyes, followed by a knowing smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Looks like you know more than enough,” he murmured, voice quieter now. “There was no need for me to teach you anything, huh?”

Your grip loosened slightly without you meaning to.

The words landed somewhere low in your stomach, heavier than they should have.

You hadn’t realised how close you’d gotten until you suddenly felt the warmth coming from him, close enough that the room felt smaller.

The book dipped slightly in his hand, momentarily forgotten, when the air between you shifted into something different – thicker, and quieter.

His eyes flicked to your mouth before he could stop them, and stayed there for a second too long.

Your fingers tightened without meaning to – just a fraction – like you’d forgotten you were still holding him.

Your hand slipped from his wrist, fingers brushing against his skin one last time before falling to your side.

You cleared your throat, like that might steady something that had tipped too far.

“I don’t…” you started, then stopped, your voice catching slightly. “I just– I don’t want you to think that’s why I asked you to come over.”

Your fingers curled into themselves as you glanced at him, then away again just as quickly.

“I’m not– I didn’t just…” you huffed quietly, frustrated with yourself as your words tangled just as easily as your fingers in your hair. “It’s not like I’m just… looking for something easy or–”

You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together.

Fuck, everything was coming out wrong.

“I just–” you tried again, softer this time, your hands dropping back to your sides. “I don’t do that.”

Your eyes flicked back to his, searching – waiting for anything.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not with you.”

Those last three words seemed to hand there longer than anything else had.

And still, he didn’t move; Eddie stood exactly where he had been, the book loose in his hand now, his expression softer than before. He just watched you, taking everything in – not daring to interrupt or dismiss you in any way.

Then, slowly, he lout a quiet breath through his nose – like he’d been holding it longer than he meant to.

His fingers tightened briefly around the spine of the book before he set it down on your desk, like he needed his hands free for whatever this was.

“I know,” he started, then shook his head lightly, a faint, almost self-conscious huff leaving his lips. “It’s just…”

His eyes flicked back to yours – steadier this time, less guarded.

“You’re hard to read sometimes,” he admitted, quieter now. “Didn’t know where I stood.”

Your expression softened at that.

His eyes held yours for a second longer than before, like he was trying to make sure you’d heard him.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to come over if I didn’t mean it,” you whispered.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer – not uncertain, just… careful. Like he might disappear the second you got too close.

But Eddie didn’t disappear.

If anything, he stayed exactly where he was, only the slight shift of his shoulders giving away that he’d noticed the space between you closing.

Your hand lifted before you could overthink it, hovering for a brief moment between you before settling lightly against his shoulder – your thumb brushing faintly against the fabric.

The touch was barely there – but it was enough to feel intentional.

His breath hitched, quiet enough that you might have missed it if you hadn’t been standing so close.

His eyes dropped, catching where your hand rested against him.

Ringed fingers flexed one at his side, like he was deciding whether to touch back or not. He did – slow and carefully settling his hand over yours. He didn’t push it away, or pulled it closer; he just held it there, taking in the warmth of your fingers beneath his own.

Eddie swallowed, his jaw tightening briefly before easing again – like he was working up the courage for something that he didn’t quite trust yet.

“Hey,” he murmured in a low voice, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “Don’t overthink it.”

It wasn’t teasing, or dismissive; it sounded reassuring and gentle, like he meant it even more than he did that first night.

His lips brushed yours at first – barely there, and testing, like he wasn’t sure how you’d respond; like he was giving you time to stop him.

And when he realised you didn’t pull away, he leaned in a little more, and kissed you properly.

Still careful and slow, but with more certainty this time.

Eddie’s hand slipped from yours, slowly tracing down until both of them settled at your hips – like he needed something solid to hold onto.

He didn’t pull you closer; he just held you there.

His nose bumped softly against yours as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little more – still gentle, and unhurried – right before the sharp ring of the phone cut through the room.

For a second, neither of you moved – like if you ignored it, it might stop.

Except it didn’t, and it rang again, and again.

You let out a quiet breath, pulling back just enough to break the moment, your hand slipping from his shoulder as you crossed the room to your nightstand.

“Sorry,” you muttered, already reaching for the phone.

“I’ll– yeah,” he said under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair as he stepped back, like you needed more space than you actually did.

Static crackled through the line when you picked up, before your mother’s voice broke through – too loud at first to hold the receiver close to your ear.

She sounded strained, barely held together over the sound of rain hammering against metal.

“Honey? Can you hear me?”

You frowned slightly, pressing the receiver closer when her volume dropped just enough. “Mom?”

Her voice cut in and out, swallowed by the noise on the other end.

“…not gonna make it home tonight.”

A sharp crack of thunder echoed through the line, loud enough to make you flinch.

“The weather is insane out here in Indianapolis, honey. We’re– Your dad doesn’t want to drive. Not like this.”

Another burst of static.

“You know where the emergency money is, right? Just order something in; our little secret.”

“Yeah,” you said, quieter now. “I know where it is.”

“Good, that’s good. Don’t forget to lock the doors, okay?”

“I will, mom.”

The line crackled again – then went dead, giving way to the silence that followed.

You stood there for a second longer than necessary, the receiver still in your hand – before you slowly turned back towards him.

Eddie leaned back against your desk, one hand curled against his mouth as he watched you move around the room.

The air between you felt different now – heavier.

Your cheeks warmed at the fleeting thoughts that crossed your mind, and you cleared your throat, pushing them away before they could settle.

“How do you feel about pizza?”

The soft, humming static of the TV filled the background, the harsh glow of the screen hitting Eddie’s face in a way that somehow felt gentle – like it was almost caressing him.

Another rerun of The Golden Girls flickered across the screen, long forgotten as Eddie laughed at your indignation.

“Oh, c’mon! What’s the problem with Bon Jovi?”

“In my professional opinion–”

“Professional?”

“Uh, yeah?” he arched a brow at you, a sarcastic look taking over his face. “You make it sound like I’m not selling out the Hide Out every Tuesday.”

His coffee brown eyes glimmered as he let himself get pulled into your laughter for a moment – taking in the way your eyes squinted, your nose scrunched, the quiet yeah, right you mumbled under your breath.

“You should come see us sometime,” he added, trying to sound more nonchalant than he actually felt.

Before you could respond, he cut the space between you with a forced cough.

“I need a cig,” he said, already pushing himself from the soft carpet where you’d both settled.

You wiped your hands against your jorts – already damp with sweat and in desperate need of a washing cycle anyway – before standing up and leading him towards the backyard.

Your father’s house slippers were a little too big – and a little too ridiculous – on Eddie’s feet as he followed you through the sliding door in the kitchen.

Eddie pulled his tattered pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he slid one free and held it out to you in a silent offer.

You shook your head, and he gave a small shrug before bringing it to his lips.

He inhaled, slow and familiar, his chest rising as smoke filled his lungs before he sank down into the old, wooden garden chair and exhaled.

Your gaze drifted over his face – taking in the way his bangs fell softly over his brows, the way the moonlight caught against his skin as he smoked in quiet silence.

Eddie’s eyes flickered up to yours – a soft smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his free hand, offering it to you.

He pulled you closer when you took it, guiding you down until you settled against him, your weight resting on his thighs.

“I was serious, you know,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You should come sometime.”

The thick smell of smoke lingered between you, slowly drifting away with the cold late-night breeze.

His eyes glimmered differently under the moonlight – softer now, searching your face for something unspoken.

You reached for his cigarette, slipping it from between his fingers and bringing it to your lips for a quick drag before placing it back between his.

“Only if you cover a Bon Jovi song for me.”

Eddie’s fingers curled around the filter as his brows furrowed, a soft scoff leaving his mouth before he took another drag.

“Don’t do that to me, Sweetheart.”

“Do what?”

His eyes stayed on your face, taking in the way your lips curled into a cheeky smile as the words left your mouth.

He exhaled softly, smoke spilling from his lips before he drew it back in through his nose and let it go again.

Then he turned his head, breaking the eye contact as he glanced around for somewhere to put out his cigarette; finding nothing, he dropped it to the ground, nudging it with his borrowed slipper, already making a mental note to toss the filter once it cooled.

When his attention returned to you, his arms slipped around you, pulling you closed against his chest.

“You know exactly what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning in, his soft curls brushing gently against your forehead.

But before he could close the distance completely, a low, rolling crack of thunder split through the air.

And then came the rain, soft at first; then steady.

“Come,” you said, pushing yourself up from his lap and taking his hand as you quickly pulled him back through the sliding door.

His words still lingered in the air, pressing in from all sides as you made your way back inside.

The TV still glowed softly, flooding the walls and carpet with the distant hum of a late-night talk show.

Eddie didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he tugged you gently towards the couch, already starting to drop back onto the cushions until your grip tightened, just slightly.

His movements stalled halfway, his weight not fully settled yet, when he noticed the faint glimmer in your eyes – the way your gaze flickered from him to the stairs, and back again.

His brows lifted slightly, hiding behind his bangs, before he found his footing again, turning, and pulling you with him towards your bedroom.

Neither one of you bothered to fill the silence – not when the house felt different now, like it was listening.

The soft hum of the TV faded behind you with every step, forgotten and replaced by the muted creak of the floorboards beneath your feet.

You were suddenly aware of everything again – the way his thumb shifted slightly against your skin, the way he slowed just a fraction as you reached the stairs, like he was giving you time to stop him if you’d changed your mind.

You hadn’t.

Your shoulder brushed his as you moved past him on the first step, with Eddie following close behind.

The space between you had disappeared somewhere along the way, with each step feeling louder than it should have – slower, like time had stretched itself thin just to keep up.

You didn’t hesitate to curl your fingers around the doorknob, pushing the door open without looking back.

You could feel Eddie following you anyway.

The room felt different now – smaller, somehow – as the door clicked shut behind him, the sound quieter than it should have been, but final all the same.

You turned to him, still close, your hand tightening slightly around his like it might help ground you.

Eddie’s eyes searched yours – steady, and patient – giving you the space to say whatever was on your mind.

You swallowed softly; luckily, the words didn’t get stuck this time.

Not even when you felt your cheeks warm up before they even had the chance to leave your mouth.

“I don’t want to have any more lessons,” you said, softer than you meant to.

Your thumb brushed gently against the back of his hand as your eyes held his.

“But I still want you to teach me.”

The words lingered between you – unhurried, and heavy with meaning.

Eddie didn’t look away; didn’t dare to move as he held your gaze.

His Adam’s apple bobbed a little harder than he meant it to, his breath catching just slightly before he spoke.

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s fingers loosened yours gently, but didn’t let go all at once.

His hands found your hips instead – warm, and familiar now – as he drew you closer, slow and unhurried, until your chest met his.

You felt it then – the way his breath hitched when you moved closer, your warmth spreading across his chest.

His thumbs brushed lightly against the bare stop of skin he’d found between your jorts and shirt, like he was still deciding how far to go.

His gaze dipped – not fully, just enough to linger on your lips a second too long – before lifting back to your eyes, checking and waiting, just in case.

Then he leaned in again, slower this time – with more certainty than ever before.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he half-expected the world to interrupt him again.

And when his lips finally met yours, it felt soft and steady – like he knew, for certain now, that you weren’t going anywhere.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, softly tightening their grip, while your other hand slid up around his neck.

Eddie tilted his head just a fraction, leaning into the kiss in that same careful, deliberate way.

Until a soft, pleased sigh slipped past your lips, fanning gently across his skin.

He pulled back just slightly, breaking the kiss for a brief second – his forehead hovering close to yours, his breath uneven.

His fingers tightened at your hips, steadying you there as his gaze flickered over your face – like he was taking something in, making sure.

Then his mouth found yours again, moving against your lips with more certainty now, coaxing rather than rushing, like he already knew you’d meet his pace.

Your lips parted under his without thinking, like it had become second nature by now, while your fingers tightened their grip in his messy locks.

Eddie exhaled softly against your mouth – quieter, almost undone – but he didn’t break the kiss this time.

He felt the way you squirmed under his touch, and it made him press closer, his lips moving against yours with a little more urgency – like he just couldn’t get enough.

The warm brush of his tongue found your bottom lip, dragging and spreading his spit unevenly there before he pulled away, just as a soft groan slipped from the back of your throat.

“C’mere,” he muttered, his voice low as his hands tightened at your hips, guiding you with him until his thighs met the edge of your mattress.

His rings pressed a little firmer into your skin as he pulled you closer, steadying you when your legs found his hips in one smooth motion.

There was no hesitation in him anymore – whatever restraint had been there before had long since faded, replaced by something more insistent; a quiet need to feel you closer.

Eddie lifted your hips just slightly, adjusting your position on his lap – even closer, harder than before.

His ringed hands found their way around your thighs, slamming you down harder on his lap, coaxing a soft whimper out of you.

You were panting by the time your eyes fluttered open again – not even remembering when you’d closed them in the first place – too caught up in the heat of his hands, the way they held you there like he didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.

Your fingers tightened their hold in his hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back, guiding him as your hips shifted slightly, searching instinctively, chasing his mouth with furrowed brows, until your lips found his again.

Resisting him got harder with every groan that left his mouth, vibrating faintly against the slick texture of your tongue.

Eddie’s grip on your thighs faltered for a moment, his hands sliding down to your ass as he pulls you closer, and closer, making your hips grind against his lap in a steady rhythm.

He broke the kiss again, but didn’t go too far. His mouth found the soft skin beneath your chin, leaving gentle kisses and light nips there as he slowly made his way down to your clavicle.

“You sure?” he murmured against your neck – right before his lips pressed a little firmer against one particular spot, gently biting on it, that just made your hips twitch harder against his crotch.

Eddie pulled back, just enough for his dark brown eyes to scan your face, taking in the faint glimmer of his – or was it yours? – spit on the corner of your mouth, the way you looked drunk on his kisses, and how your chest rose and fell a little faster than it had before.

“I want to learn it all, Eddie,” you managed to huff out, dragging a hand through your own hair.

“Yeah?” his right hand slipped from underneath your ass and settled under your chin, fingers pressing softly on your cheeks until your mouth opened a little more. “Lemme see that tongue, Sweetheart.”

Your cheeks hit up with his request, but you complied anyway, sticking your tongue out enough for a drop of spit to fall onto his hand.

His eyes flickered from your mouth to the little drop of spit, following it as it rolled down the back of his hand, before finding your eyes again.

Eddie’s ringed fingers tightened their grip on your cheeks just a little more as he pulled your face closer to his, until your tongue was close enough to his mouth.

He licked his lips before parting them, almost in a perfect circle, and leaned in just enough to curl them around your tongue.

His eyes closed as soon as his lips closed around the soft muscle, and before you knew it, he started moving his mouth up and down, sucking on your tongue with a feverous need.

A soft gasp slipped out of you at the unfamiliar feeling, your toes curling when the loud, slurping sounds filled your ears as you started bobbing your head to meet him in the middle.

Eddie’s other hand tightened its grip on your ass, groaning into your mouth as he leaned back in, slamming his lips against yours in a perfect seal.

You ground your hips against his zipper in an uneven rhythm, too drunk on his mouth and his groans to steady the sloppy movements.

Only when a sharp flash of white lit up your room, followed by a loud crack of thunder, did you pull away – the sudden jolt traveling through your body like a reminder to breathe.

Eddie’s fingers still dug into your cheeks as he held your face close to his, taking in the sight of you – wet, swollen lips, messy hair – completely unaware that he mirrored the same state.

His curls were more dishevelled than usual, his brows pulled into a slight furrow, something desperate lingering there as his chest rose and fell faster than his breath could keep up with.

For a moment, you stayed like that – one of his hands holding your face while the other kept its grip on your ass, your crotch pressed tightly against his zipper, chests rising and falling – just taking each other in as the heavy sound of rain echoed through the house, loud enough to feel like it had seeped inside.

“That’s, uh…” he trailed off, his mind too clouded to gather his thoughts. “Fuck.”

Her sharp, observant eyes caught the faint purple mark near your clavicle almost immediately.

And that alone was enough to keep her occupied.

Nathalie clicked her tongue against her front teeth, squinting as her brows pulled together while she sat perched on the metal bench at the school entrance, watching you approach under the warm morning sun.

She was too busy staring to even notice you and Eddie had pulled in at the same time – too busy thinking, too busy knowing.

It wasn’t until you got closer that her gaze flickered past you for a split second – catching him, the timing, and the way it all lined up.

The fact that he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday was a big sign – especially considering it was Hellfire Friday, and there was absolutely no sign of his usual do-it-yourself merch.

That didn’t help your case – like, at all.

She didn’t say anything when you finally approached, dropping your bag onto the table as you sat down beside her, stretching your legs out in front of you.

But her eyes narrowed – which, when it came to Nathalie, was somehow even worse than her usual stream of pressing questions.

The thunderstorm from last night had done nothing to cool down the morning, and that – the killing heat, combined with Nathalie’s all knowing eyes?

Yeah, you were about to have one Hell of a day.

You refused to meet her gaze, deciding that the sight of Dustin Henderson picking his nose was far more interesting after sneaking a quick glance from the corner of your eyes.

You were not going to be the one to break the silence.

You did anyway – her stare boring into you clavicle, too nerve-wrecking to ignore.

“Go on,”  you murmured, clicking your tongue against your teeth. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Oh, nothing,”

Her voice came out far too casual, too easy.

Which was exactly how you knew it was not nothing.

Nathalie leaned back slightly, elbows propping her weight as her eyes dragged – slow and deliberate – from your face down to your clavicle.

Where they lingered a second too long.

The loose skin next to your thumbnail found its way between your teeth this time as you tried to gather your thoughts.

She let her eyes linger on the purple mark for a moment longer before pushing herself up from the bench, her bag already in hand.

You looked at her, dumbfounded, brows furrowed as your teeth found another piece of loose skin.

Nathalie glanced back over her shoulder, her own brows pulling together like she didn’t understand why you were still sitting there.

“Well?” she said. “You coming or not?”

You blinked once, then pushed yourself up from the bench, grabbing your bag a second too late as you hurried after her.

She didn’t slow down as she moved through the school entrance like nothing was out of the ordinary, like she hadn’t just spent the last five minutes staring a hole in your shoulder.

It took ten steps – you counted – for her to sneak you a glare, and open her mouth.

“You know,” she started, her voice too light, as she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, “I had a very peaceful morning.”

You frowned slightly, looking at her.

“No surprises, no early morning gossip, unfortunately, no…” she tilted her head slightly, like she was thinking her words over, “visible evidence of poor decision-making.”

Your stomach dropped right as finally turned her head, just enough for her gaze to slide back to your clavicle, where it lingered again.

“You, on the other hand,” she continued, a slow, all-knowing smile creeping onto her lips, “seem to have had a very productive evening.”

You grip on your bag strap tightened, your tongue pressing into your cheek – which, somehow, only made it worse.

“Yeah,” she dragged out. “I bet there was a lot of that going on last night, huh?”

You were too busy trying to cool the warmth that had spread across your cheeks to come up with anything remotely witty.

Instead, you settled for rolling your eyes at her, feigning annoyance as you walked towards your locker, letting the noise of the hallway fill the space between you.

But it didn’t work – she wouldn’t let it, anyway.

“Amazing,” she hummed under her breath as she fell into step beside you. “That’s your strategy? Ignore me and let me come up with scenarios instead of killing my curiosity?”

You didn’t answer, too busy turning your head towards someone laughing too loudly near the water fountain, the sharp rush of water cutting through your thoughts.

Then a locker slammed somewhere down the hall, the sound echoing louder than it should have for a buzzing Friday morning.

Your eyes even caught on a crumpled poster peeling off the wall – something about the Spring Formal, half the letters already missing.

You tried focusing on absolutely anything but her.

Which didn’t stop her; she was already leaning in, just slightly, into your personal space.

“You didn’t even try to cover it,” she muttered.

The soles of your shoes creaked against the tile as you finally reached your locker.

Only when you opened it did you give yourself a second to breathe, shoulders slumping as Nathalie leaned casually against the locker beside yours – half-hidden behind your open door.

“I just…” you started, brows furrowing as you searched for the right words – something that would satisfy her hunger for fresh morning gossip while still keeping most of last night to yourself. “We just–”

The words died on your tongue as two junior passed behind you, voices low but loud enough.

“I’m telling you, he’s a great teacher.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already,” the other huffed. “But the Freak? Seriously?”

“Who cares? He won’t tell anyone about it,” her friend giggled. “I have no regrets – he’s a great kisser.”

Your hands stilled midair as your stomach dropped.

Because that – his stupid side hustle – wasn’t something you’d talked about last night.

And you weren’t sure what to make of that – only that something about it sat wrong.

⋆˚꩜｡a/n: it’s finally extra credit sunday again! hope yall enjoy x

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