#only now

At New Year's Eve, a couple of weeks after Eddie had left you with a little note that read "Merry Christmas x", you were doing a round of sharing your resolutions for the next year. You had decided yours on the spot and had blurted it out without having given it much thought.

"I'm going to move out of Hawkins."

And everyone had looked at you like it was the wildest thing they'd ever heard, laughed at you as if you were joking, like they had done when Dustin said he was going to start going to the gym. Not Steve though. Steve had hooked an arm around your neck, pulled you in so he could speak directly into your ear and said, "Coolest resolution of the bunch."

What Steve hadn't anticipated is that a mere two, two and a half weeks later, he'd be stood outside of the apartment building you used to share, ready to say goodbye and wave you off. You'd packed up all your belongings into your shitty car and were ready to get out of Hawins. Just, leave. For ever? Never to return? You weren't sure. You'd see.

“I know you have to leave, but, if you really think about it, what’s another week?” Steve tried, leaning his elbows in your open car window. It was too cold for it to be rolled all the way down, mid-January the temperatures were freezing, but you had something to say to Steve still, and you wouldn’t leave before you’d said it. Could you have told him inside? Absolutely. But it would’ve postponed your plans, and you had procrastinated enough. Years, if you really thought about it. You should've gotten out when Nancy and Jonathan had done, but, you know, you clearly hadn't.

“Shut up,” you completely dismissed Steve’s attempt at another week with you in Hawkins and he let his head drop in defeat.

“I need to say things to you,” you said, and Steve was quick to whip his head back up. You kept your engine running but slumped your shoulders and let your hands fall into your lap as you gave him a little pout.

“No, don’t,” Steve warned you.

“I have to,” you took a deep breath, and before Steve could block his ears with his fingers, you got the words out fast. “I don’t deserve you, you are by far the best friend, too good for this world, I can’t believe I’m leaving you behind- I love you!” all your words blended and built up in volume until you were practically screaming. They weren’t the words Steve was expecting, so when he lowered his arms, you snuck them in real fast: “Please come with me!”

“No!” Steve was too late; the words found his ears without any obstruction, and he waved his arms in frustration as he turned away from your car.

Your play back and forth of you begging Steve to join you, and him very actively avoiding every single talk you tried to have with him about it, had been going since the start. Ever since you dropped the comment that you should probably just get out of Hawkins all together, you’d been saying you should both go. He had threatened you at the start, “Careful, or I’ll do it!”, thinking it would make you stop the bit, but knowing there was a slight chance he’d actually consider it only made you press it more.

Steve took a few steps, circled back to your car, and pretended he was about to take a dive across you, aiming for your passenger seat. Just for a second, you thought he was actually going to go for it, and it made you squeal in panic filled laughter. Instead, Steve just leant through your window, found your shoulders with both his hands, and pulled you in for the most awkward hug.

“I’ll come visit soon,”

“Promise?”

“Of course, idiot.” Steve’s grip tightened. “I promise.”

A fresh start. New beginnings. New surroundings. It was what your mother said you’d needed for years. It was what Steve was hellbent on you getting for years.

You’d done enough scooping of popcorn into buckets at the movie theater, only to sweep up half of it two hours later from under the seats – a dead end job, but easy money made. Enough to pay rent, have a little fun and even save up a little.

You’d saved up enough to get yourself through two months of rent in the city, no problem. The urge to immediately find work wasn’t there, but when you moved into your new, much smaller, apartment above a bar that had a sign in the window that read BAR STAFF WANTED you thought, "Perfect.".

It was late February when Steve got word that Eddie was coming back into town. That’s soon, Steve thought. Usually, Eddie would leave much longer periods in between visits. Maybe they were playing somewhere close, and Eddie would just pop down for the day, he thought, secretly pleased that you’d decided to move away when you did.  

Eddie didn’t even seem fazed when he walked up to greet Steve. Didn’t look around. Didn’t do a double take. And then, didn’t even ask, but just smiled and hugged Steve, patted him on the back and followed him inside.

Small talk.

Steve was astounded by the surface level of small talk Eddie made. Has the weather been good? Munson, it’s February. Of course not. It’s been grey skies and wet cold. Has he also been sick? Wayne told him a bug had half of Hawkins knocked out a couple weeks ago. Steve had a cough for a few days but was fine otherwise. Got all his fingers still? Eddie knew Steve liked lighting fireworks with Dustin, Mike, the others, anyone who would still come back from college, from jobs, had time to visit family over New Year’s Eve. Steve showed him all ten.   

Then Eddie started talking about tour. The band. The gigs. The crowds. Steve loved Eddie’s stories, could honestly listen to him for hours, but he couldn't give him his full attention. Steve was listening to Eddie through your ears. Watching him through your eyes. It was like everything had to pass through a filter of you before it reached Steve, and it slowly built annoyance.  

The last time Steve and Eddie had spoken, just the two of them, had been on the ice. When Lover's Lake had frozen over, Robin had taken you on a slippery, scary ride as she had run off with you and he'd stopped Eddie to ask him, was he even really aware of it? Of what he was doing? Did he ever stop to think what his behavior meant for you? Eddie hadn't appreciated Steve placing full blame with him; what Eddie's behavior meant for you. Not, what you were doing to Eddie.  

Steve had told him to at least be mindful. When Eddie had scoffed, had said that he was being mindful, Steve revealed how a couple of months ago he had sat outside of your locked bathroom for hours. Listened to you cry silently in between echoing spasmed breaths and sobs. "Don't put her through that again, man." Steve's eyes shone with sadness. It annoyed Eddie greatly as he watched you and Robin laughing together, holding hands as you carefully made your way back to them over the ice.  

Eddie didn't think he was doing anything to you. He was just being nice, wasn't he? Would hold you while you slept. Said nice things into your hair. Held your hand on walks. Squeezed your thighs underneath tables. Kissed you on the couch. These were all nice things; things you wanted, things you didn't shy away from, things you happily accepted from him. This is how you were together. Frankly, how you'd always been together. How much worse would it be if he didn't do any of those things at all? If he grew distant all of the sudden? If he just... stopped?  

"Be mindful, s'all." Steve said just before you slid back into earshot.  

And Eddie had tried for like, an hour maybe. Steve was a good friend and had come to him with difficult things to say, so Eddie tried. Even if he didn't like it. Eddie tried. Kept a little more distance. Didn't sling an arm around you as you walked back to Robin's car together. Called shot gun so he didn't have to share the backseat with you. Didn't use pet names. Didn't look at you and smiled until his eyes crinkled. And then they'd all felt it. They had all seen your angry glances at Steve. Had felt the mood shift. Had felt the sudden tension in the air. Had felt your complete rejection of whatever it was that Steve wanted for you. He wasn't meant to interfere like that, you thought. So when you'd reached for Eddie's hand when you'd gotten out of the car, Eddie had looked at Steve. Told him, I'm not doing anything, with his eyes. It's her.  

So Steve was glad you weren't there. But Steve was annoyed that Eddie didn't even acknowledge that.  

"You staying over at Wayne's?" Steve asked once Eddie let a silence fall. Eddie never stayed at Wayne's on his visits, but without prospect of staying over at your place, Steve thought he kind of had to. 

"I guess," Eddie shrugged.  

Steve waited. Still nothing.  

"Speaking of, I should probably head over and go see my old man." Eddie spoke through a stretch, arms all up in the air, fingers interlocked, palms out. Then he sighed deeply and got up, went to get his coat from the hallway as Steve moved their used glasses to the kitchen. "Promised he'd make me more meatloaf since I didn't get to take any with me last time," Eddie joked halfheartedly and smiled at Steve when Steve met him in the hallway. Perfect moment to mention you, Steve thought. Yet still, nothing.  

Steve followed Eddie on his way out, then decided he couldn't let Eddie just leave like that. Couldn't let him walk out after pretending you weren’t one third of their- your whole. Steve and Eddie had never been just two. Ever since they'd gotten closer as friends, you'd gotten closer in friends together. The three of you. Joined at the hip. Morning, noon and evening. Sun, wind and rain. Birth, life and death. Past, present and future.

"No? Nothing?"  

"Huh?"  

"You're not going to ask why she's not here? Come on, man…" Steve said, hoping Eddie would let his guard down, not pull it up more. 

Eddie turned his head away, looking down the long corridor of apartment doors, hands in the pockets of his leather coat. Then he clicked his tongue and looked back at his friend in the door opening. "What's there to ask?" Eddie asked disdainfully, flicking his eyes down to Steve’s shoes and back up real quick.  

Steve loved Eddie, really missed his friend all the time, and maybe even more so now you had moved away too, but this wasn't cool. Eddie didn't need to be so arrogant, act all haughty around him. They were friends. Two legs of this tripod they formed with you. Acting like you weren’t in the slightest bit important, weren’t an inherent part of them, vested in everything they were and weren’t together wasn’t okay.

Steve pushed his chin up, made his lips disappear and gave a small nod. "Say hi to Wayne for me." and closed the door on him. Eddie could go fuck himself. 

When Eddie stepped into the trailer without knocking, Wayne took one look at him and told Eddie to walk back out. Eddie sighed loudly. Wayne used to do this all the time if Eddie came walking in like he owned the place. It would often happen when Wayne had worked double shifts and had left Eddie alone for too long. Wayne would make Eddie walk out and come back in, almost as if he was a polite guest, visiting his uncle for a special occasion. Put him in his place a little. Feel that, even if he was the one with his own bedroom between the two, the trailer was still Wayne's home first.

Eddie knew better than to not do as he was told by Wayne, famous rockstar or not, and stepped back out. He took a second, hand on the door handle still, and then he knocked and waited for Wayne to answer.

"Jus' a second," Wayne's low voice gruntled from behind the door, and Eddie huffed a laugh through his nostrils. Fucker was going to make him wait out in the cold, too.

When Wayne opened the door for Eddie, they grinned at each other and hugged.

"Come on, boy. Eat."

Eddie had been pushing the same bite of meatloaf around his plate for ten minutes, then sighed deeply and explained why he was going to have to stay over on the couch in the trailer that night.

"That why you ain't eatin'?"

Eddie shrugged, mentioned how Steve seemed upset with him about something too, not elaborating on why exactly that was. Wayne didn't push it, and instead focussed on the note Eddie showed him.

"And now she lives in the big city, huh?" Wayne said, reading the address.

"Seems like it," Eddie held the note in between his fingers, like he would hold a cigarette and stared at Steve's handwriting.

"Didn't tell you?" Wayne shoved his empty plate towards Eddie a little, signaling it was Eddie who was going to be doing the washing up. Eddie didn't fight him on it; Wayne cooked, so it was only fair Eddie did the dishes. Picking up the plates, his own barely touched, Eddie shook his head a little at Wayne's question.

"Didn't need to, it's her own life, isn't it? Makes her own choices," Eddie reasoned for himself. He hadn't told you about all the places he'd stayed at to write, to record, to rehearse and to play. Why should you have to?

It would have been nice for Eddie to have known, don't get him wrong. He probably wouldn't have come back to Hawkins so soon had he known you weren't there anymore.

"I never understood it," Wayne sighed, sitting back in his seat as he placed his hands behind his head, elbows sticking out wide. "You kids, not goin' together but holdin' hands all the time anyway," Wayne frowned and shook his head a little.

Wayne knew you and Eddie far surpassed innocent hand holding - walls were thin in his trailer - but hand holding was all the two of you had done openly in front of him. Everything else Wayne had caught, he'd pretended not to have seen or to have heard.

"Nothing to understand," Eddie shrugged.

"And she's not goin' with Steve either?"

"No," Eddie snorted, absolutely unable to even think of you and Steve as a couple.

"Hand me that towel," Wayne joined Eddie in the kitchen.

This was nice, Eddie thought. Just chatting with Wayne, in the trailer, hands busy with an easy task. Just the two of them, like old times. It didn't have the same effect as hanging out with you and Steve had on him, though. But it was nice anyway.

"Wouldn't have time for it anyway, would you?" Wayne said. "Not with all them girls waitin' outside after your concerts," There was a moment of eye contact where Eddie had expected a sly smile from Wayne, something a little playful, but was met with a set of stern eyes instead.

"I better not be hearin' bad things, Eddie," Wayne warned, and Eddie immediately took it to mean something malicious. Like Eddie was taking advantage of every single person that showed him any form of interest. Like it was Eddie’s fault that the band had groupies.

"What do you take me for?" Eddie mentally placed his foot against the gas pedal, ready to absolutely floor it if Wayne was going to say something else he didn't like.

"Don't forget who raised you, now," Wayne stayed calm, his voice not changing tone.

"Are you accusing me of something?" Eddie accelerated.

"Just makin' sure no one has reason to,"

Eddie just looked at Wayne a second before he contorted his face and threw the sponge he'd been scrubbing pots with loudly against the tiles behind the sink. The wet slap was loud and splashed dish soap suds onto dishes Wayne had already dried but had yet to put away. He silently watched his nephew grab his coat, feel around pockets for a packet of cigarettes and step out.

Had Eddie been 16 still, he'd have slammed the door.

Wayne wasn't stupid. He'd seen things on MTV, saw pictures in the magazines and, sometimes, if they were particularly bad, the newspapers. He'd even seen some girls with his own eyes when he'd been to see Eddie 'n the boys play when they'd been close enough for Eddie to put Wayne up on the guest list. He had never seen Eddie give them any real attention, but Wayne knew his nephew.

Eddie just needed to be mindful. Tha's all.

That night, Eddie and Wayne had gone to bed in silence. Eddie had refused to say another word, even when Wayne had sat down in his armchair and had put the TV on. Eddie was all passive aggression, rumbling stomach only adding fuel, and Wayne knew to keep quiet until Eddie would break, say something stupid, something that crossed a line, immediately apologise and then they'd be able to talk everything through. Old routines died hard. That, or Eddie would crack because he had to have been hungry, still.

Before bed, Wayne had placed bedding and one of the better pillows onto the couch next to Eddie before retreating to his own bedroom. Eddie's old bedroom. When Wayne had closed the door behind him, Eddie had looked at it and wished it was his bedroom still. With the same old posters still up, his favourite guitar on the wall and all his other stupid shit strewn around, messing the place up. Making it all his. His own little safe space where everything was so very his. Eddie almost resented his uncle for not leaving it the way it was back then, but knew that would've made no sense.

Eddie found himself on the couch, hours later, middle of the night, not being able to sleep at all. The blinking streetlight from out front illuminated the note Eddie held in his hand in flashes.

Should he just... call?

Could he? He couldn't remember the last time he talked to you over the phone. You never called each other. Not that you'd be able to reach Eddie anywhere - he was always on the move.

You hadn't mentioned moving out of Hawkins the last time you'd seen each other. Maybe he wasn't meant to know. Or maybe, you'd tell him later. Once you'd settled. You couldn't have been gone that long, could you?

Eddie didn't manage to stay until the morning. When Wayne woke up and went to find his nephew to talk things through over breakfast, he was met with an empty trailer. Eddie had left the sheets folded nicely up on the couch, and had left his uncle a little note on top.

"I'm sorry. Took the leftover meatloaf x"

It was busy at the bar. Too busy. It was Thursday, and Thursdays were never this busy. The band playing had done a little promotion beforehand, and clearly, it paid off. You were sure lots of them were friends and family, but you eyed some curious anticipation from what you assumed were strangers too. 

It was busy, but work was fun. It was just you and your immediate boss behind the bar together, and you wanted to impress, still. Be quick on your feet. Get lots of tips for the two of you to share later. You'd only worked there for about a month, but you'd learned fast. And it was fun because you seemed to really have a good routine down. There was no bumping into each other - if you were about to reach for a glass, he'd have it ready for you, and if you heard someone order drink from a bottle closer to you, you'd hand it over before he could even ask. Work was busy, hectic, and chaotic, but it was fun.

Most people drank beer. Some would order whiskey. Very, very rarely, someone would ask for something else. You'd barely touched the vast array of liquor bottles that decorated the wall behind the bar. So when someone ordered anything you'd not poured before, your boss would help you, show you once, then keep an eye the very next time you'd do it yourself. But most people drank beer, so you'd gotten used to asking which kind, almost on autopilot, and would point at the different taps with questioning eyes. Until someone didn't ask for a beer, and threw you for a loop.

"Jack and coke, please?" 

You heard him before you saw him. The visceral reaction within your body was unreal. Unfair. Maddening, too. 

You thought you had it all under full control. You had it all tucked away, squeezed into a small cage, locked up behind bars, keys thrown away far into Lake Michigan, never to be seen again. You'd been so good. Would sometimes go days without thinking of him. Became an expert in occupying yourself, and it really helped that none of your surroundings were reminders here. You had all of his things hidden away in a shoebox, placed it deep into your wardrobe, underneath and behind other items, and you'd tried to do the same with all the memories inside your head. Found a shoebox in there too, placed every single little thing you'd come across into this box and would store it away, somewhere near the back of your head, close to the top of your cervical spine. 

And it had worked. You'd done so well. 

But the sheer sight of him... the first little glimpse you caught after hearing that voice... It broke that cage wide open. Bars snapped in half, brick walls crumbled down and your heart was free. Free at last. Beating fiercely, almost painfully fast inside your chest. It got to swell again. Gave itself more wiggle room. Grew three sizes and pressed tightly against your lungs which made it hard to breathe. It hurt, but it hurt so good.

Eddie was here.

Have you ever felt your brain short-circuit in real time? Felt fires start from sparks too big upon the sight of someone's smile? 

"What... how did you..." There were no full thoughts, and you had no possible way of verbalizing anything coherent in the moment. 

"Steve," Eddie shouted over the music.

Your eyes grew, doubled in size. Never. Eddie was lying. Steve would never. Eddie could see your disbelief, your disgust at Eddie placing blame with your mutual friend and knew he had to explain. 

"I saw..." Eddie sighed deeply, both hands placed on the bar as he leant forward, eyes closed, about to disclose information he wasn't proud of. "There was a note, with your new phone number and your address. He left it on the side, and I couldn't..." Eddie reached into a pocket, pulled it out and showed you Steve’s handwriting.

"You took it?" 

"Don't worry, you know Harrington, he's got it memorized by now." 

Like Steve being unable to reach you was the problem here. 

"Eddie Munson?" someone tapped his shoulder, recognized him, went in for a hug immediately. "Told you it was him!" you heard someone else call out from the other side. "Eddie!" 

Too many things were happening at once and you were unable to process any of them. Eddie was here, under questionable circumstances, and you didn't even have the time to be angry with him, because you were at work. You were at work, and it had been going so smoothly. You'd been on a roll, absolutely in it, you and your boss fully attuned to each other. Eddie ruined it, fucked it all up, but you had to get back to it. There were people waiting, drinks to be served, tips to be collected. But you were kind of... frozen. Almost nonresponsive.

You could only give Eddie confused eyes. Judgmental eyes. What the fuck are you doing here eyes. Came to mess up my life again huh eyes. But mostly, your eyes just held a lot of bewilderment and simple shock. Uncomplicated. Things anybody could read. 

An arm holding a drink came into your vision from your left, and your boss placed down Eddie's jack and coke in front of him. A little dazed, you looked at your boss, who gave you a look, eyebrows raised high, not in question, but in let's get back to work, all right. 

You looked at the man next to Eddie, who searched for your attention with a hand, was holding money and pointed at the beer tap before holding up two fingers.

"Coming right up," you snapped back into work-mode and smiled. You had to get back to work and pretend Eddie wasn't there. It was too busy at the bar not to. So, you ignored him, tried your best to not let your eyes find him, and focused on the work at hand. Work was busy, and it was fun, you sternly told yourself.

After a while, when the band was done playing, the bar started to feel more like a regular old Thursday inside. There was still enough work to be done, but nothing that overwhelmed you. 

“Dude's still here, that okay?” Your boss eyed Eddie who was stood talking to two of the bandmembers. They seemed excited Eddie had seen their set. 

You already knew Eddie was still there. You'd watched him all night. Corner of your eye. Peripheral vision. Like your body knew there was danger lurking, and you couldn't not keep an eye out for him. 

“I'm working,” you shrugged. “If he wants to talk, he can wait.”

And you silently and secretly wished that he did. Fucking Eddie. What the fuck did he want? You’d last seen him in December, which for Eddie’s terms must have felt like just a week ago. Why had he been over at Steve’s?

“Is um… is he who I think he is?” your boss carefully followed up, making drinks right next to you as you kept busy rinsing glasses. 

You gave a small smirk, but didn't answer, kept your eyes down. Eddie had been the talk of the night, obviously your boss knew the dude that seemed to be waiting your shift out was Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame. But the way the two of you had interacted, before the murmur of people whispering his name had started, told your boss you weren’t just shocked to see him because he was Eddie Munson. No, you knew each other. There was some sort of history there, he could sense it, and he silently commended you for only letting some of it show for half a second. The rest of the night you’d been perfect bar staff. No regrets in hiring you.

"Could you... do you think you could get Corroded Coffin to come play a little gig here?" your boss joked, and you couldn't help but huff a laugh through your nose. "Give us a little show? No?" you got a nudge in the shoulder and a playful smile when you looked at him. 

"I'll ask, but I can’t make any promises," you said, making your boss laugh loudly. Corroded Coffin played huge venues, had insane mosh pits, full light shows with smoke and pyrotechnics. The bar you worked at fit the genre, sure, but was small. Tiny. They would tear the place down, and if not the band themselves, then definitely the people coming to see them.

“Let me know if I need to kick him out, because I’ll do it. Don’t care what name he carries.” And with that, your boss picked up drinks to carry over to the other side of the bar to whoever ordered them. You silently berated yourself for having waited so long to move to the city. People were nice here. What had held you back so long? The second you thought it, you hated that the answer to that question sat down on a barstool right in front of you.

“So when does your shift end?”

You were prepared for questions from Eddie. All throughout the evening you'd thought about what things you would tell him. What things you’d be honest and up front about, and what things you’d avoid telling him. You didn't owe him anything, but you imagined Eddie had questions anyway.

What you weren't prepared for was the magnetic pulling you felt in your stomach when you saw Eddie standing in the middle of your small, new apartment.

What you weren't prepared for was Eddie kneeling down in front of you as you'd sat down on your couch to take your shoes off.

What you weren't prepared for were Eddie's hands that found the outside of your thighs and used his fingernails to slowly scratch up and down the sides of them slowly as Eddie leant back on his heels.

You kind of couldn't really do anything but watch his hands move slowly along your legs and your breath shuddered as you felt your ribcage expand and tighten simultaneously. You frowned when you recognized where you were emotionally. You were in your bed, in your old apartment still, and had just found that stupid fucking note Eddie left on his pillow. You were back in December in the exact moment where all you could feel was loneliness and the strongest yearning you'd ever felt for Eddie.

And now, Eddie was here.

"Eddie,"

Your eyes locked, but what were you going to follow up with? Ask him why he was there? Ask him why he had visited Hawkins so soon after his last visit? Why he'd taken that note with your details from Steve's place? Were you going to tell him about why you'd left? Tell him about those days after he'd left without saying goodbye, again? You didn't really want to do any of those things. Because Eddie was touching you, and you kind of didn't want him to stop.

You hesitated for too long and saw Eddie's dark eyes move between yours before he sat up on his knees and moved in close. Close enough for your noses to touch, to dance around each other for a brief moment, to move like you were kissing. Close enough for your breath to hitch, throat working, as you saw Eddie's eyes roam your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

Eddie had never asked permission like that before, and you didn't need asking twice.

You only needed to tilt your head a little for your lips to touch, and it could've been soft, and slow, but it was none of the sort. You smashed yourself into Eddie, held onto him, arms winding tightly around his neck to pull him into you and keep him there. You kept feeding pressure as your faces swirled, tongues exploring each other, making sure they recognized each other still. You had to feel as much of Eddie as you could to make sure he was really there. That he was real.

Eddie kissed you back just has fervorous, like he was surprised that you'd granted him permission for it. Like he thought that maybe he had asked a question you would've easily said no to.

Thinking back to what Steve had said, he wouldn't have been surprised if you did.

You kissed each other, inhaled each other and tasted each other until Eddie suddenly noticed how your breathing grew erratic at an alarmingly rapid rate. Your hands started clambering behind his head, then on his back, your touches increasing in desperation. Your lips pressed against his hard and it started to become uncomfortable. Eddie reached for your hands in a bid to loosen your grip and broke your kiss.

"Hey,"

Eddie tried for eye contact, to see if you were okay, but you were quick to dig your face into the crook of his neck, escaped into his hair, and hooked your arms under his to tightly squeeze him. Your pressed your chests together and hugged Eddie tensely. You hugged him like you'd never let him go, clung to him like you were scared he'd get up and walk out, your chest heaving heavily still.

"Hey, are you–" Eddie stopped talking when a sob escaped you and he felt your body shake against his. It startled him for a moment, but it only took a second for him to hug you back.

Emotionally, you were there, in your old bedroom still, alone, blinking tears from your eyes at that stupid note Eddie left on your pillow. Eddie had walked out and hadn't even said goodbye.

"Shh, it's okay," Eddie turned soft, found the back of your head to caress and gently stroked his other hand up and down your back.

You cried, and Eddie was gentle. You cried over Eddie, because of Eddie, and let Eddie comfort you. It was an agonizing loop you found yourself in, realized you'd been in, that somehow also felt like it spiraled down with the weight of everything growing heavier each time. You'd be pushed further down each time. You'd have to rise up higher each time, gain new unprecedented levels of strength each time. It had only been a few weeks, and you hadn't even properly began the painstaking process of putting yourself back together again since you'd last seen Eddie. You had just ran from it. Hid from it.

But now, Eddie was here. He had left you alone in your bed a few weeks ago, but now, he was here.

"You always leave," you spoke through broken sobs, letting out the words you felt were hurting your heart from the inside out.

"I'm here," Eddie softly reassured, his voice kind, but flat, almost void of feeling. "I'm here."

You heard it – lies – and knew he emotionally wasn't here at all, but you could pretend he was. Needed to pretend he was. You could feel him, smell him, taste him and could pretend he was here, just like he said he was.

"Do you want to go lay down?" Eddie whispered after a little while. You had calmed down, but were holding on still, and he'd been sat on his knees in front of your couch too long.

Eddie felt you nod your head on top of his shoulder, and you expected him to move back, away from you, in order to stand up. Instead, Eddie moved your legs to hook around his waist, said, "Hold on tight," before gripping onto your waist and hoisting you up from the couch as you clung onto him.

Lowering you down onto the bed, Eddie got a look at your face and saw the mascara streaks he'd been responsible for. When he wiped a thumb across one, you realised what he was doing and were quick to wipe at your own face with your hands. You were sure that whatever Eddie was looking at, wasn't very charming.

But then Eddie grabbed onto both your wrists, stilled your hands and moved them away slowly. Replaced them with his own. It felt like the least thing he could do, to slightly make it better a little. He licked one of his thumbs like your mother used to do, and used soft strokes to wipe the make-up stains away as you stared up at him. Eddie's touch was careful and tender, and you melted under it, relaxing deeper into your bed.

Eddie didn't have mascara splotches to wipe at, but you wanted to touch his face in the same ways he was touching yours. You reached up, cupped his cheeks, rubbed a thumb along a line in his face and got a smile out of him. Eddie moved his head, kissed one of your palms, then straightened up and looked at your jeans.

"Can I take these off?"

What was with all the asking for permission? It was new. You didn't mind it, but it was... different. You nodded and let Eddie undress you.

He removed your jeans, your socks, your top, your bra too, and you waited for his roaming hands. Waited for his touches, his squeezes, for Eddie to grab at you, with soft or harsh fingers – you didn't care.

Eddie then removed his own T-shirt, and instead of discarding it onto the floor with the rest of your clothing items, he moved it around in his hands, found the neckline and said, "Sit up a little." before helping you put it on.

Eddie dressed you in his own T-shirt, the one he'd worn all day and overwhelmed your senses with all things Eddie. It was the smoothest of moves that caught you entirely off guard, and you had to take the deepest of breaths to not burst into tears again.

When Eddie slipped into bed in just his boxers next to you, you noticed that you were secretly pleased that he hadn't latched onto you the second he'd seen you naked. This was much nicer. Eddie was about to get comfortable on his back, was about to pull you in for cuddles, but you stopped him.

"Lay on top of me,"

Eddie froze a second, covers held up in his hand, facial expression a little confused.

"I want to feel you on me," you felt raw and vulnerable, all up in your emotions and had shared them with him too. There was no use in hiding what you wanted from him now.

"Yea. Yea, okay." and Eddie scooted down a little, found your chest with his head and carefully relaxed until you were pressed down into the mattress by his full body weight.

Eddie listened to your heartbeat, felt himself rise and fall with your breaths and dozed off the very second he knew that you'd fallen asleep as well.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you felt Eddie roll off of you, to get more comfortable, you imagined. He laid down next to you and the loss of his warmth, his weight and his contact made your hand search for his so you at least had something, still. You were needy and clingy and knew it was unattractive and overbearing, but you didn't care. When you found his hand and interlaced your fingers with his, your felt him squeeze a few times which was enough reassurance for you to drift off again.

Eddie woke you up in the morning by placing a hot mug of coffee on your bedside table.

"Morning," Eddie sat down next to you on the bed and leant over you, one arm planted either side of you. He bent over for a kiss, and you groaned, "morning breath," and tried to avoid him getting too close. But Eddie was Eddie, and he held your face to kiss you anyway.

"Couldn't," another kiss, "care," more, "less." and then deeper too. Until Eddie murmured, "You're out of breakfast," and you groaned loudly as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

"Yea, I need to get groceries."

"So let's go have breakfast somewhere and get you some groceries."

You still didn't know why Eddie came to visit you. Why he had been in Hawkins, why he'd been over at Steve's. But Eddie sort of behaved in the same way he always did and you were about to plummet into domestic bliss together which you enjoyed far too much to confront him now. You'd get the answers to your questions later.

You found a little cafe to have breakfast at and sat by the window. You let Eddie choose your breakfast from the menu for you, but only because you had just told the waitress what Eddie was going to get. When your plates were put down in front of you, you both looked at the food, then at each other and both reached to switch meals because you'd chosen for each other what you really wanted to have yourselves. It was stupid and it turned you into grinning idiots, sharing dopey smiles as you ate. You missed Steve a little, thought he would have probably made some golden side comments had he been there, but you didn't mention it. Afraid it would ruin whatever it was that you and Eddie had going. Out of the confinements Hawkins held for you, where people had fully formed ideas of who you were as a person, and who you and Eddie were as friends, you got to just be... be yourselves, more. Be a little more coupley, without familiar judging eyes or the feeling you were going to have to explain to someone later that, no, you weren't actually dating, this was just what you were like.

Now, this was just who you got to be, almost without repercussions, and it made you want to up the level of it. Be a bit more of it.

And Eddie let you.

In the supermarket you noticed how flashy Eddie looked compared to every single other person in there. You realised that, when in Hawkins, Eddie definitely toned down this whole look he had created for himself. In Hawkins, Eddie was more the Eddie he'd been in high school, which, for small town terms, was pretty out there already anyway. But here, away from home and away the people that would still probably treat him as the town's freak, Eddie let some of his stage persona shine through in his outfit. Kind of made you feel a little underdressed, almost. He looked more confident, a little more removed from you, and sure, he looked very sexy, but it wasn't Eddie Eddie.

"What's chelse?" Eddie said, squinting at your shopping list. "Is this something fancy we don't have in Hawkins? That us simpletons have never heard of?" Eddie acted like he was the one stuck in Hawkins still, and that you were the one with a broadened worldview. Very obviously, that was clearly the other way around.

"Shut up, idiot. That says cheese."

"Excuse me, where do you keep your fancy chelse?" Eddie asked a teenager stacking shelves whose eyes grew with recognition for him.

"Oh my God, Eddie," you hissed under your breath, but couldn't withhold your giggles as you pulled Eddie along on your way to find some regular cheese.

Back in your apartment, Eddie started putting food away in all the wrong places, so as he placed items into random cupboards, you stood next to him and reorganized everything without saying anything. You just smiled, and when you snuck a look at Eddie, saw that he'd seen what you were doing, because he then placed bananas in the oven and a packet of uncooked spaghetti in the fridge. You were being dumb smiley idiots together and it was so cute, you imagined how Steve would say something along the lines of, "Well, at least you think this is fun." and he'd be so totally right.

"I start work soon," you said after letting yourself fall onto your couch, like you'd just ran a marathon.

Eddie copied you, hair flying as he landed against the backrest, sighing dramatically. Made you laugh.

"You can come sit at the bar, or... I don't know, stay up here, see what's on TV," you didn't want Eddie to leave, yet. You held out a hand and Eddie took hold of you, swinging your arms back and forth playfully.

"I'll have a shower, then call China... see what they have going on," Eddie joked.

"I'll send you the phone bill, so make every minute count," you joked right back, happy Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about needing to leave, about needing to get back to the band. It irked you a little too, unexpectedly, because you still didn't know why Eddie was here.

"What?" Eddie saw you frown as you looked at your hands that were still sort of moving around, drawing shapes in the space between you from your swirling elbows. You decided you were just going to be up front and ask the exact question on your mind.

"Why are you here?"

A beat.

"What made you come visit me?"

You turned to look at Eddie, who was staring at your hands just as you'd been doing.

"You weren't in Hawkins," Eddie shrugged and looked you in the eye briefly.

Your frown deepened, because that wasn't really an answer. It didn't explain anything, but just left you to put dots in places in order to connect them yourself. A dangerous game, because what if you put the dots in the wrong places and made the wrong connections?

"Missed ya," Eddie followed up, said it nonchalantly, Wayne's words echoing in his mind. He moved the hand he was holding up to his mouth to kiss it, easing the crease between your brows slightly.

No word on why he'd been back so soon. No word on what happened at Steve's for him to need to steal a note that held your details. You could imagine, sure, but those could be the wrong dots, and Eddie not elaborating only made you feel like he didn't want to talk about it. So, you didn't press it further, even though you really wanted to.

"Why did you let me in?" Eddie asked.

Oof.

You thought of all the cells in your body that all called out to Eddie at every second of every minute of every hour of every day, and about how having Eddie with you silenced all of them.

"Could hardly turn you away, could I? Leave you out in the cold?"

It was just as much of a non-answer as you'd gotten from him, and Eddie tutted, just about scoffed at you and you saw his brow furrow. You didn't take offense immediately, but were very ready to step into that box if Eddie didn't guide you away from it.

"Why do you... why are you doing this to yourself?"

Eddie instead pushed you straight into it.

"Excuse me?" you couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.

Eddie sat up, let go of your hand, used the both of his to rub his face and then turned his head a little to look at you.

"If it hurts you so much," Eddie started, but you weren't going to let him finish that sentence.

"Me?!"

Eddie just stared, blank faced.

"I'm the one who's doing this?" you challenged him.

"I mean–" Eddie raised his eyebrows and you knew he was going to have several examples ready to throw into your face. You very much didn't need to hear them.

"Why do you think I moved here, Eddie? Why I got the fuck out of Hawkins?"

Eddie just looked at you, and you could almost hear him think "you ran away", and you could feel the stinging of upcoming tears behind your eyes. The frustration of how easily emotion got hold of you again only angered you more, triggering the waterworks even more. You weren't strong enough yet. It hadn't been long enough since you'd last seen Eddie, and now here you were, a weak mess of a girl, about to drive away the person you wanted to keep close the most.

"I can't run away from myself… I can't run away from my past, from my actions, from choices I've made..." you had been able to run away from Hawkins, and so, that was what you'd done. It just hadn't worked as well as you would've hoped, and you realised it didn't work at all now that Eddie was here.

"You did… run away, I mean, didn’t you?" 

Eddie said it with so much disdain, like it was the most cowardly thing you could've ever done. Like moving out of Hawkins was the absolute worst possible thing a person could ever do in their lifetime. Like you were faint-hearted. Weak. Spineless. 

"You don’t get it." You got up to find the shoes you'd taken off earlier, wiping your hands harshly across your face to rid yourself of tears, annoyed that none of this seemed to touch Eddie at all. "Physically I had to," that was easier to say with you back towards Eddie, who was still sat on your couch. "But you think I can escape my own mind, Eddie? I’m in there, 24/7 - you are in there. It’s all the time, never ending, just... always there. How do I… how am I supposed to…" you started stumbling over words as your lips trembled, starting new sentences before ending the previous ones, thoughts overlapping and spilling out faster than your tears did. 

"Hey," Eddie got up, but you were quick to hold out both your hands, palms facing him.

"No. I've got work." you turned around, grabbed a jacket and opened your door.

"Maybe you shouldn't be here... when I get back." and before Eddie could say anything, you stepped out and shut the door behind you.

You worked a grueling shift, and Eddie had been able to hear loud voices and live music thump in your apartment. It was late when you finished work, and you were exhausted, but you'd tried all night to build yourself up. Handed over beers whilst simultaneously mentally stacking bricks to build up walls in order to shield that weak mess of a girl inside, make sure she was still safe in there.

And then, Eddie was still there when you got back.

Hatred knotted in your stomach, because Eddie was still here and you liked it. Relief washed over you when you saw him, sat in the dark, still on your couch, and you wished it had been something else. Not relief. You wished that instead you would've felt ugly things. Mean things, exclusively.

You looked at each other in silence as the door clicked shut behind you and you noticed Eddie seemed sad. However, you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it. Because feeling bad for him wasn't going to help you. You knew exactly what was going to help you, though.

"Say something horrible to me," you sounded exhausted, voice flat, not enough energy to muster up anything more for him.

Eddie immediately frowned in confusion.

"Tell me I'm your worst mistake," you stepped closer as you let your jacket slide form your shoulders.

"Say something to make me hate you,"

"Baby," Eddie got up.

You winced at the pet name, closed your eyes and breathed heavily, tried your best to pretend you didn't hear it.

"Tell me you fuck every single girl that throws themselves at you and that they do you better than I ever will and,"

"What are you..." Eddie tried to interrupted, but it just made you speak louder over him.

"That you'll never stop because they're just, too, good," you couldn't help but let your voice slowly build anger as you avoided any and all eye contact with Eddie.

Eddie slowly got closer, confused and concerned. This isn't how he had envisioned the two of you to make up after your shift had ended.

"Say that you think I'm annoying, that you hate the way I laugh,"

Now stood right in front of you, Eddie reached for your face with both his hands and he tried to find your line of sight to make you look at him.

"I don't," Eddie started, and you were quick to interrupt. "Then lie." you said sternly.

The air felt tense, but only because you were shooting daggers, glaring at Eddie with dark eyes, trying to win the staring contest you'd started with him the second you'd made eye contact. You won, because Eddie looked at your mouth for a second, and you wondered how you were going to murder all the butterflies that sprung up in your stomach.

"Ruin us, Eddie," you tried so hard to be strong. "Please." but it was difficult, and Eddie upped the ante when he kissed you.

For a second, you let him. You let Eddie kiss you, and it was immediately hot, and heavy, and you liked it. But you were strong, God damn it. You hadn't spent all hours of your shift building yourself up for fucking nothing. You were strong and were going to protect yourself, because clearly, no one else was fucking going to.

In a bid to take back control, you bit Eddie. Harshly. It made him pull back immediately.

"Give me reasons to hate you," you pleaded, breathing heavily.

"You're a mistake," Eddie said before crashing right back into you. There was nothing kind about the way you kissed each other. Forceful lips, pressing mouths, scraping teeth mixed in with unkind words, because Eddie obliged and started giving you what you were asking for.

"You're the worst thing that's happened to me in my lifetime," Eddie started guiding you backwards towards you bed.

"I hate the way you laugh," his tongue licked at your lips as his hands started to undress you.

"I hate the way you look," he said it right as he got your bra off of you and used a hand to push you back, making you fall and bounce on the mattress.

"I'm gonna keep fuck..." Eddie stopped, sighed a small breath, like he was unable to get it out of his mouth.

"Say it," you ordered.

"I'm gonna keep fucking every single girl that wants it," and with that, Eddie let himself fall on top of you. You were used to him at least pretending that, whenever you had sex, it was about you first. Not tonight. And maybe that was exactly right, because it drove home all the words he said and made them land in your brain.

Eddie didn't care about you.

But then, inches deep inside you, Eddie panted sudden sweet words.

"You've no idea what you do to me,"

His words dripped with lust and adoration, and you could've cried, but you didn't. You were strong, remember?

"No, more things you hate, t-tell me," Eddie's pace was fast, made it hard for you to speak. "Tell me more things that make me hate you,"

Eddie grumbled, grunted, let himself fall onto you as he kept going and chased his own orgasm.

"I think," Eddie started, but was cut off by himself as he came fast. He shuddered and spasmed on top of you, moaned loudly, then softer, until everything eventually stilled. "I think we should just stay friends."

And with a kiss on your cheek, Eddie climbed off of you and disappeared into the bathroom.

When Eddie came back out, you were silently crying in your bed. Eddie slid back in, nestled under your covers, but you jolted when he tried to touch you. So Eddie turned around, and you slept in your bed the way you'd never slept in a bed together; back to back, without touching each other, like two strangers forced to share a blanket.

But, asleep-you and asleep-Eddie, weren't confined by the same things awake-you and awake-Eddie were confined by, and your bodies had found each other in the night.

You woke up the next morning with Eddie's arms around you, the little spoon to his big spoon, and for a moment, you let yourself really feel it. Feel Eddie with every fibre of your being.

You deserved to win, you thought. Because with Eddie, you’d come in first place every single time, ask anybody. But Eddie hadn’t awarded anyone in years. There wasn’t a shortlist for you to top. There was just a long line of pretty girls who waited by stage doors and by tour buses, and you didn’t want to be in that line. You wanted this; Eddie in your bed, cuddled up to you, breathing in your neck, his hair or yours tickling you with every exhale. You wanted all of this just for yourself, for ever.

But you couldn't.

Because Eddie always left.

And you had ran away from him.

"You should leave," you whispered into the dark, as the city woke up outside your windows.

"Not yet," Eddie said. "Go back to sleep."

You shifted back a little, more into him, pressing your back against his chest more as you abandoned everything that happened the night before for a second. You understood that the very moment your feet would touch your floorboards and you both got out of this bed, it'd all be real again. And then, it'd all be over.

So you snoozed, and stretched out time and pretended for a moment that you were 17 and in Eddie's old bedroom in the trailer after a weird night of crossed boundaries. You pretended to snooze until Wayne would loudly knock on the door and tell you to come and clean up the mess you left in the living room. You pretended to snooze until you were no longer pretending and you just snoozed until you woke up hours later and found yourself alone again.

Alone but for one of those stupid little notes.

"Love you x"

You read it, crumpled it up and threw it across the room before burying your face back into your pillow.

It was over now. Eddie was gone, and it was over.

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Read the follow up: Then Again

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