New streaming platform idea: I get to select all my favorite comfort shows and it plays them like a live TV channel. All mixed together and random episodes.
sending asks is so scary what if i sneezed on my keyboard and mistyped my entire adress and misgendered everyone and mispelled every single word and also typed my password into the message. what then. once the ask is sent who knows what it looks like. i couldve tyepd anything
Hiiii could you write something about reader getting her house broken into in the middle of the night maybe so she immediately calls gator. He comes and beats up the intruder but reader is very shaken up so he takes care of her? And maybe lets her stay at the ranch for the night?
Thank youuuu I love your work💘
intruder- gator tillman
pairing: gator tillman x reader
a/n: loved this request! not proofread and also i wrote this in the car so there might be typos oops. as always, likes, reblogs, comments, and requests are always appreciated! luv u xoxo
word count: 1.2k
gator hated where you lived. you, however, loved your little home.
it wasn’t in the greatest part of town, the house was small and a little raggedy. most importantly, it was too far from him, on the other side of town from the ranch.
but it was yours. you’d rented it with the money you saved up during college working double shift at the local diner.
despite all of that, gator spent the majority of his time there. when he wasn’t working or busy kissing his daddy’s ass at home, he was at your place.
tonight, you had the house to yourself.
gator was working, so you had a night in. dinner on the couch, binge watching reruns of some trash reality show until your eyes burned.
around 11:30, you decided to turn in for the night. your bones pop and crack as you stand up and stretch before you drag your feet down the dark hall to your bathroom.
you’re going through the motions of your night routine, washing your face and brushing your teeth, when you hear a thud come from outside.
you freeze, heart jumping in your chest at the sudden noise amongst the silent house. you listen, ears almost straining to pick up any other sounds.
you’re just about to reach for the faucet handle to turn the water back on when you hear it again, this time louder.
you toss your toothbrush back into its holder, next to gator’s you kept there for him, and wiped your mouth. you shut off the light and grab your phone, creeping out into the hallway.
you peak out in the living room and from there you can see a dark figure through the frosted glass on your front door’s window. an awful, hollow pit formed in your stomach.
maybe it was gator, you tell yourself. maybe he is stopping by while on patrol or got off early. but you knew that wasn’t true.
you curse under your breath and make your way to your bedroom, phone already dialing gator’s number.
you will him to pick up as you shut the door and lock it behind you. it rings a few times and you’re scared that he’s busy or in the middle of a traffic stop or call.
finally, the line on the other side clicks and gator’s voice hits your ear.
“hey, baby girl.” you could practically hear his shit-eating smirk on the other side of the line, no doubt thinking you’re calling because you miss him and want attention.
you wish that were the situation.
“are you at my door?” you rush out as you make your way to your bedside, grabbing the metal baseball bat you kept tucked between your bed and your nightstand.
gator’s tone turned serious in an instant. “no, i’m patrollin’ on the highway. someone at your door?”
you can already hear the charger’s engine turn over and the tires screeching as gator began flooring it down the road.
“i was about to go to bed and i heard a noise outside. i thought it was a animal or something then i heard it again, louder. then i saw someone at the door through the window.”
“get your ass into your room now. lock the door.”
“i am.” you say as you open your closet and climb inside. your heart pounded in your chest, making it almost impossible to hear gator.
“i’m on my way. don’t hang up the phone, ya hear me? i’m almost there.”
you could hear your front door being hit and broken down. you curse, curling yourself into a tight ball. you knuckles had gone white on your phone and the bat.
the intruder had made their way inside, heavy footsteps thumping through your house.
“gate, please hurry.” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. “they’re inside.”
gator mutters a small fuck under his breath and his engine roars louder. “hang on baby, turin’ down your road now.”
the sound of drawers being rummaged through roughly, things being picked up then tossed down echo loudly, but the sound of police sirens coming closer were louder.
you don’t even think the person inside your house had much time to react before gator came barreling through your front door.
“county police! put yer fuckin’ hands up!” gator’s voice angrily reverberates through the house. everything else is a blur.
the sound of gator knocking the person down. the sound of his fist repeatedly connecting to flesh. he could’ve shot them, sure, but he was pissed. he needed to let it out. a shot wouldn’t have been as satisfying for him.
when he was satisfied, having beat the guy to a pulp and handcuffed him then calling for backup. gator rushed down the hall.
his heavy boots thundered towards your room, banging on the door. “babe?”
you could barely pull yourself up and out of the closet, let alone walk to the door. but you managed to put your shaky legs to use.
when you opened the bedroom door, your phone was still clutched in your hand, still connected the call with gator even though he’d left his phone forgotten in his car, and the bat was in your other.
when your eyes landed on gator, you let out a sob and fell into his chest. his arms held you tightly to him, lips pressing to the top of your head. the bat fell from your grasp, clanging loudly as it hit the floor.
you cried, understandably shaken up. and gator let you, running his fingers through your hair.
“i gotcha. don’t worry, baby girl. i gotcha.”
after a few minutes, you pulled back and looked up at him.
“’s all taken care of, darlin’. ‘s okay.” he say, holding your face in his hands. you manage a nod and gator presses a kiss to your forehead.
“got some back up comin’ to take the son of a bitch in. i need ya to pack a bag. whatever ya need for a couple of nights.”
“why?”
“you’re stayin’ with me. no ifs ands or buts. ain’t letting ya out my sight.”
“gator-“
“you ain’t comin’ back to this house. i’m a find a better place for us. where this shit won’t happen.”
this makes you pause, your lips managing to curl up slightly. “a place for us?”
gator frowns down at you, narrowing his eyes. “you think i’m gonna let ya live alone after this shit? like hell.”
“if you wanted to move in with me, honey, you could’ve just said so.” you smirk.
gator scoffs, rolling his eyes. “the fucks the matter with you, woman? jokin’ after this shit. i need to be able to protect ya. ‘s all.”
your smile softens, your fingers curling into his vest. you knew that was only half of the truth. that really, he wanted to live with you because he wanted to. he wanted to be around you all the time at home. but he would never admit that.
“gator?”
“don’t.”
you shake your head, smiling. “thank you.”
gator’s face softens slightly, and he nods.
“it’s my job to protect ya. don’t thank me.” he mumbles. still, you lean you and peck his lips before turning to pack a bag for your stay at the ranch with him.
Best friend! Eddie Munson/coworker! Eddie munson x Reader
Word count: 4.7k
Summary: After the death of your beloved cat, Eddie can tell something is wrong as you do your best not to fall apart in front of him. Even if you won’t tell him what’s wrong, he will do anything to try to hold you together.
Contains: death of a pet, mentions of food, grief, reader is briefly suspected of having an eating disorder, clueless but well meaning Eddie
Requested by @dreamerjj
Day 1 was the hardest, still as time passed you cursed anyone that said time heals all things. Your cat, quite possibly the best friend you had ever or would ever have, had passed. It wasn’t something you had prepared yourself for, even as she began to age. To you, she would live forever, as all pets should.
Your second best friend, and coworker, Eddie Munson, noticed something was off 3 days after. It wasn’t like you were usually happy go lucky, often finding yourself snapping at people who deserved it or sassing others for pure enjoyment. This was different. You suddenly lost your bite.
He did consider whether he should address your sudden shift in demeanor, but ultimately decided it was best to leave it. He had almost forgotten it by morning, but that next afternoon only worsened his worry.
You were never late to work, annoyingly so. Your punctuality was a trait that employers commended but Eddie often teased you over. He claimed that it made you incredibly nerdy, and you would usually bite back with yet another addition to the long list of things that made him nerdier than you.
That morning you walked in 15 minutes late. Your hair was more disheveled than usual, makeup done less neatly, and uniform not neatly pressed. Eddie only opened his mouth to point out that you were late, more out of shock than to tease.
“Yeah, sorry,” you breathed out in reply. No bite, no sarcasm, no insult, and most concerning, no true apology behind the words. You spoke as if you were a robot, pre-programed to be polite and move on with your tasks. You didn’t look up to see the way his brow furrowed or the way he nearly reached for you to ask what was wrong. You ran to the back room to clock in and set your things down before he could get another word out.
Working at the theater with Eddie was a dream. It was often just the two of you, with the occasional drop in from the owner or his wife. Crowds were small, tasks were quick, and you had plenty of down time to goof off with each other. At least you used to. Suddenly, you found yourself avoiding Eddie at all costs while you were on the clock. You insisted on starting each film, lingering in the projection booth much longer than necessary each time. You jumped up to help customers with finding seating or getting concessions. He was so used to you trying to goad him into playing rock paper scissors to fight over who had to interact with the public or walk down the hall.
He began to worry he had said or done something wrong. For the first half of that shift, you found it incredibly easy to avoid Eddie, as he was completely lost in thought. He was desperately trying to remember what it was that he was supposed to apologize for, but he came up short.
You spoke to him for the first time since your arrival around noon.
“You want the first lunch break or…?”
“Uh,” he paused, trying to process your words as he pulled himself from his thoughts, “Uhm, no. You go ahead.” He smiled, hoping that being overly nice would do something, anything, for the situation. His shoulders dropped again after you turned away from him, only having offered a pitiful half smile.
He remained at the concession counter while you slinked off to the break room. You had barely had the energy to pack yourself a lunch that morning, having stayed up most of the night trying to get rid of the awful feeling eating away at you. Watching all your favorite movies and listening to your favorite music hadn’t helped. The leftovers from a week ago in your lunchbox stared up at you, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to eat it. The smell was a bit off anyway.
The room was bathed in silence, and it was growing to be too much. You watched the clock as the time passed, grateful to have an excuse to hide your sorrows from your best friend, but tortured by the boring length. 20 minutes into your 30 minute break and you could feel yourself start to crack. You had tried so hard to hold it together, even while you were alone, and it was becoming too much. You angrily swiped away the first tear as it fell. You had cried already, but in the privacy of your own home. This was off limits, you couldn’t allow yourself to do it here. Not in public, and definitely not somewhere Eddie could walk in at any moment.
Unfortunately for you, he did just that at that very moment. He had spent the last 20 minutes reeling, still trying to recall what he could have done to ruin your dynamic. He had finally just decided to ask you. He feared how you would react to him asking, but anything was worth it to get you back. He had nearly charged into the back room, between showings in hope that no customers would come in, but he completely stilled in his tracks when he reached the doorway.
You sat nearly hunched over the table, side profile on display, and he watched as you nearly punched yourself in the face to roughly clear a tear from your cheek.
Eddie had cried in front of you a couple times. He felt weak about it the first time, but you had reassured him that it was ok to feel however he felt when he was around you. The second time, he had teased you for being so nice about it while still refusing to do the same in front of him. You had shied away from the topic and deflected with a harsh joke that still made him laugh. The last thing he had expected to walk in on was you falling apart. When he heard the first sniffle, he finally moved from his stupor.
“Hey,” he spoke softly, but just loud enough for you to hear him before he could reach you. You jumped at the sound and quickly turned away from him to wipe your face and hide your puffy red eyes. His hand was on yours in a second, and he forced you to turn to face him again. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”
The concern in his eyes felt like it was burning you alive. You loved him, you really did, but his gaze on you was just too much. You couldn’t stand having another person perceive your pain.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you faked a smile, but you could tell he wasn’t buying it.
“Y/n,” he warned gently, softly begging you to spill.
“Really, Eds, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry again for being late this morning.”
There was no way you could be this upset about that right? Eddie’s mind raced trying to figure out if that was a true confession. His heart ached either way.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.”
“Some of us more than others.”
His eyes finally brightened. He hadn’t heard you joke with him for half a week, so he was more than happy to hear one at his expense.
“Right,” he laughed, but soon a silence fell back over the two of you, “Would you wanna come over tonight? I’ve missed you the past couple days, my couch is just callin’ your name.”
“Oh, no,” you answered quickly, a little too fast for his liking, “I mean, I just have some stuff I need to get to.”
Your eyes darted away, doing everything you could to not look at him. He knew that was your tell, but it gave away more than your lie. Eddie finally figured out why you had been avoiding him. Something had happened, he wasn’t sure what, and you were hiding from him so you wouldn't unravel in his presence. He kicked himself for not seeing it earlier. He hated that he hadn’t said something sooner.
“You sure?” he prodded, “We can do anything you want. I’ll even let you rent a movie off of the forbidden list, my treat.”
“That’s sweet, Eds, but I really gotta get some stuff done around my place.”
“I could come keep you company.”
“No,” your eyes shot up to him in a brief second of panic that you quickly hid, “Maybe later this week.”
“Ok,” he gave you a small smile and stood back up from where he had kneeled next to you. “You let me know if you need any help with whatever you got going on. I’ll keep your favorite blanket warm at my place.”
You knew he knew. There was no lie that could get you out of the situation he had walked into. You were eternally grateful that he had the decency to pretend.
You did your best to be as normal as possible the next couple days, especially around Eddie. Your usual banter didn’t come natural to you anymore, you found yourself manually forcing yourself to keep up the facade of normalcy. Eddie seemed to buy it, and you were relieved that he hadn’t asked any further questions.
A week had passed since the worst day of your life, and Eddie invited you over again. He was much more persistent this time.
“Please, I’m dying of boredom without you coming over every night,” he pouted, a couple hours before you both were set to clock off.
“Eddie-”
“No, I know, you have stuff to get to. But you won’t let me come keep you company. And I mean it’s been like a week, how do you still have the cryptic shit to do that I cannot be made aware of? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re lying to me.”
You both knew that he knew you were lying. You shot him a knowing look, but that was the only acknowledgment you were capable of giving.
‘Fine,” you sighed, “But I can’t stay all night.”
“Deal,” he smiled. You were surprised that he didn’t celebrate the success of his persistence. He would usually make a grand show of victory over wearing you down. But this was gentle, the only show of victory was a grin and a warm gaze that could have made you blush.
You insisted on leaving work after Eddie, using the excuse of a few closing tasks that you were saving him from. In all reality, you just wanted a moment alone before you went to his trailer. He didn’t fight you on it.
You tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for the night ahead as you swept behind the counter. You tried to pre-plan every excuse in the book for any line of questioning as you checked all the locks. You practiced your breathing and your fake smiles in the rearview mirror as you drove to him.
He answered the door in his usual clothes. You knew him before you worked together, you were used to how he dressed outside of work. It was still a surprise at times to see just how different he looked when he wasn’t in his polo and slacks. Today, he wore a Motorhead t-shirt that you had found at a second hand store for him. He had asked your permission to cut the sleeves of it, and you were more than happy to say yes. Both because he was welcome to do as he pleased with any gift you gave him, and because the glimpse of his torso when you stood by his side was a very welcome sight.
“Hey,” he greeted with that same soft smile he had been giving you all afternoon, “I put some of my clothes in the bathroom for you to change into. I figured you’d wanna get out of your uniform.”
“Thanks,” you pushed through the door and toed off both of your shoes. You didn’t so much as look up before making a b-line to the bathroom. On the counter was a selection of a couple t-shirts, and the pajama pants that Eddie had purchased for you. He had claimed that they were for himself and he just bought the wrong size, but you knew the truth.
When you emerged from the bathroom, uniform folded neatly in hand, you took in the sight of his living room. To anyone else, it would have looked completely ordinary, but not to you. The blankets on the couch were folded and stacked on each arm rest. The only things resting on the coffee table were coasters that you weren’t sure had ever been used. Even the kitchen table had been cleared from the usual clutter.
“Did you clean?” Your voice tore Eddie’s attention from the television set from where he stood. He turned to look at you, and took a moment to gain composure. No matter how many times he saw you all cozy in your pajamas, especially knowing the shirts you wore were his, his brain could never get over how adorable you were.
“I’m allowed to tidy up.”
“Tidy? I didn’t know you knew the definition.”
“Shut up,” he smiled and took the few small steps towards you to sling an arm around your shoulders. He used it to lead you to the couch and sit you down. Before you could reach for it, he had grabbed your favorite blanket and spread it over your lap.
“You hungry?”
“Not really,” you nervously smiled up at him. It had been hours since lunch, and you knew that Eddie had watched you throw away most of your meal anyway. Your grief had grown too big to be contained in your heart, finding residence in your stomach and lungs. Breathing was difficult to even out, and eating had become near impossible.
“Ok,” he tried not to show just how worried you were making him, “Well I’m gonna have dinner in an hour or so. I’ll make some extra for you.”
It wasn’t a question, you knew if you had declined it would do no good. So you just smiled and nodded. He settled into the couch, right at your side. It was closer than he would usually sit, and it felt suffocating. You suspected he was trying to be there for you, trying to offer himself for comfort without having to ask, without having to speak at all. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t love how it was tearing your heart open.
“We gonna watch something?” you asked, words clawing at your throat in a way that nearly gave away how your stomach was churning.
“Yeah, got you one of those stupid romcoms,” he smiled, grabbing the remote to adjust the input.
“You didn’t have to dip into the forbidden list, we could have watched another horror movie.”
“It’s fine,” he chuckled.
“They’re forbidden for a reason. We both know you hate that shit.”
“It’s fine,” all humor left his demeanor as he turned to you, commanding your gaze. He was more than earnest, he was insistent. There wasn’t a rule or boundary he wouldn’t break just to make sure you were ok.
“Ok,” you shied away, pushing your body weight back into the plush of the couch. Part of you wished it would swallow you alive.
The movie was alright, but it was barely worth putting Eddie through watching his least favorite genre. You suspected he may have enjoyed it more than you though, so maybe it was just your mood.
“I’m fucking starving,” he spoke just as the credits began. He hopped off the couch and bound over to the kitchen, in much higher spirits than you would expect him to be. You offered to rewind the tape while he started to make his dinner.
“How does a sandwich sound?”
“I’m still really not that hungry, Eds,” you didn’t even turn to look at him, focus solely on the VCR.
“I’ll just make you one then,” he spoke matter of factly, yet again refusing to give you any room to deny him.
When you finished with the tape, Eddie was still rummaging through his fridge.
“How does either chicken salad or… grilled cheese sound,” he smiled shyly as he rose back to standing. He had forgotten to go grocery shopping, which was a very common occurrence for him.
“I’m assuming you won’t accept neither as an answer,” you teased leaning against the counter across from him.
“Chicken salad it is. Could probably both use the protein,” he spun on his heel and went to another cupboard to find his cans of chicken.
The sight of the can punched you in the gut. It was just chicken, a shitty form of it at that. But it was your cats favorite treat. She would come running every time you opened a can for yourself, and you would end up having to fight her off the counter to get away from it. And above all the other memories, came the realization. That had been her last meal.
Breath caught in your throat as he opened the can, and the smell hit you even from 10 feet away. You could feel your insides start to shake before it spread to your extremities. You tried to repeat a mantra of ‘not now’ to yourself as you focused on keeping your composure. Your jaw was the last part of you to begin trembling, your last hope of holding it together.
You were too focused on trying not to fall apart in Eddie’s kitchen to see that he had turned towards you, or to hear him ask if you wanted onion or not. When he looked at you, he could see how close you were to breaking, and it caught him completely off guard. He knew something was going on, but you were fine 2 seconds ago. To him, there was nothing that could have happened to warrant your reaction.
“Y/n?” he asked, putting the can back down on the counter. He watched as your eyes followed it, but you didn’t acknowledge him or his questions. “Hey, what’s going on?” He finally reached you, and gently brought one hand to your elbow, hoping to break your stupor. You jumped slightly, barely processing how he was suddenly so close to you. It took a second for your brain to catch up and understand what he had said.
“Uh, nothing. Sorry, just zoning out,” your voice cracked, but beside that, there was no reason to not believe you.
Eddie thought back to the other time he saw you this upset, the first time he had ever seen you cry. It had been on your lunch break. Putting 2 and 2 together, he assumed this had to be some kind of food issue, which broke his heart.
“If you really don’t want a sandwich I can make you a snack instead,” he offered, hoping to give you space to minimize your discomfort. But there was no way you were going to leave that night without him having fed you.
“N-no, it’s ok,” you began to stumble over your words, brain moving too fast for your mouth to keep up, “I, uhm, I think I-I just need to sit down.” You moved before he could help you, knees already beginning to give out.
Something in you broke, the last functioning synapse that was allowing you to will yourself together finally failed. You forgot that the goal was to not fall apart in front of Eddie, the goal was suddenly to find anything to make you feel better, anything that would take away the ache in your chest.
“Sweetheart,” he had followed you to the kitchen table, kneeling in front of you, “Please talk to me. Why do you seem so afraid of the chicken?”
You looked like a deer in headlights, and your response came slowly. You had to manually process each word, repeating in your head over and over until the definitions set in. “I’m not scared, I’m sorry,” you barely reassured him, beginning words before you had finished the ones before.
“You sound pretty scared to me. Please, just fill me in on what’s going on. I just want to help, yeah?”
“Can we have something else? I’m sorry, I know you just opened the can, but I don’t want the chicken,” with the last word, you finally snapped, tears suddenly falling, sobs suddenly wracking through you, “Please I’ll eat anything else, just don't make me have the chicken.”
“Ok,” Eddie panicked, but quickly pulled you as close as he could, “Yeah, no big deal. Don’t worry. No need to cry.” He held you tighter as your sobs grew louder. He began to realize that this was so much more than what he had suspected. This wasn’t an insecurity, this wasn’t a budding disorder. This was something that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend without getting just a little more information from you.
But for now all he could do was try to comfort you.
He began to lightly comb his fingers through your hair, offering a small ‘it’s ok’ every few seconds.
As your sobs subsided into soft cries and sniffles, and your breath began to even back to normal, Eddie finally pulled back to take a look at you. He steadied you with his hands, each one gripping an arm to keep you upright but also to keep you from shying away from him.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded as he brought up one hand to wipe a tear away before gripping your arm again, “You’ve been off all week, and I’ve tried to give you space, to let whatever it was pass. But this is obviously something that isn’t just going to pass, so please let me help you. Or at least just let me listen”
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it,” you avoided his gaze completely. You were already mortified over crying in front of him, you didn’t need to add to the humiliation of being known.
“I’m sorry, but I think we’re beyond that. We don’t have to talk about it at length, but you’re scaring me, you gotta at least just tell me what’s going on.”
Something about hearing him admit his worry for you made your heart swell, not quite enough to open up completely, but just enough to force yourself to speak.
“My cat died.” It was a simple sentence, and you offered no other explanation. The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Though it only lasted a moment, it felt like agony waiting for Eddie to laugh at you for being so devastated, especially over something others may see as small.
“Y/c/n?”
“Yeah,” your voice broke again, and you tried your best to pull away, to hide from him. His grip on your arms was unrelenting, and it only grew tighter as you tried to squirm.
“I-I know she was just a cat,” you quickly tried to explain, but your tears were free flowing again, “I know I sound stupid, and that you were probably worried for nothing. I’m sorry-”
“No, absolutely not,” he dipped his head down to catch your eye, but you couldn't maintain the contact, “I know she was everything to you. You have nothing to apologize for, you have every right to be upset.” His firm grip on your arms loosened and he slid his hands to your back. He pulled you slowly towards him so he could hold you against his chest again, in a tight embrace. “I just don’t get why you couldn’t have told me sooner.”
“I just,” you sniffled and tried to take a deep breath to continue, “I can’t think about it without this happening. I feel so stupid. I don’t want to be like this in front of you.”
“Hey,” he pulled away to guide your chin to look straight at him, not allowing you to look away anymore, “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, you’re grieving. And do you remember what you told me the first time I cried in front of you?”
“No.”
“You told me that it was ok to feel however I felt in front of you. No matter what it was, I never had to hide it from you. And that goes both ways.”
“But Ed-”
“No,” he stopped you with a strict look in his eyes, “If it applies to me it applies to you. If you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s your choice, but I don’t want you to hide from me like that ever again. You got that?”
You sniffled again, but nodded.
“Good,” he let out a relieved sigh, glad he didn’t have to fight you further, “Come here.” He grabbed your hand to pull you up out of the chair, and enveloped you into another tight hug. You both lightly swayed like that for a moment.
“Can I ask one thing?” he asked, arms still tightly wrapped around you.
“Sure.”
“Why did the chicken salad set you off?”
“Oh, uhm…” you tried to fight your brain to allow yourself to open up, and Eddie waited patiently, “It was her favorite. And it was the last thing I fed her before…” You didn’t have to finish your sentence.
“Got it. I’m sorry,” he looked down to press a kiss to the top of your head. It was a gesture he had only done a couple times, usually when he was drunk or very sleepy, but it never failed to make your heart skip a beat.
“It’s fine, it’s not like you knew.”
When you finally pulled away, you felt incredibly exposed. Eddie didn't look at you any differently though, which helped your nerves subside.
“We’re not going to eat this anyway, would it be dumb to put it outside for the park strays? Like in her honor?”
You began to cry again, the dam already having broken, but this time was different. You nodded quickly, before Eddie could begin to worry he had upset you. “That would be really nice.”
He smiled and grabbed the can before dragging you outside with him. The two of you walked to the picnic table sitting in a small clearing a few hundred feet away. He handed the can to you to set down on the table. Just as you did, a small stray cat came out of the woods, sniffing the air. She came towards you, and with full confidence went straight for the can.
The two of you watched the small creature eat from the can until she was satisfied. She gave you a small meow before returning to the forest, as if she was thanking you for the meal.
You smiled over at Eddie as the cat disappeared, and realized that while you had been watching her eat, he had been looking at you.
“Stop looking at me,” you chuckled and banged your shoulder into his, “You’re going to give me a complex.”
“Sorry, baby, you’re just beautiful.”
“What did you just call me?” you furrowed your brow at him.
“Beautiful? Was that too much?”
“No, not that.” He had called you beautiful before, usually in teasing situations, not in earnest. But that wasn’t the word that had caught your attention. He had to think back to his sentence, and his cheeks turned red in realization.
“Baby? Yeah, sorry, bad timing.”
“Bad timing for what?”
“I think you know,” he gave you a half hearted smile.
“Oh, yeah maybe not,” you chuckled softly, “Give me a week and I probably wouldn’t say no.”
He hadn’t been propositioning you, he had no intention of asking you to be his girlfriend. Not out of lack of interest, he had plenty of that. He had assumed you thought you were better off as friends, and he had no interest in losing that. But after hearing that, he lost all caution.
“O-ok,” his blush only grew darker, “I’ll still be right here until then though, alright?” His hand reached out for yours and grabbed it gently, not wanting to startle you away. But you didn’t pull back, you matched his grip.
“Alright,” you smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
You rested your head on his shoulder, and he rested his atop yours. You sat like that for a while, listening to the crickets and watching the stars, only interrupting the calm silence with the occasional thought or memory that you finally allowed to be spoken aloud to another soul.
