Your Crying Fool
“Your Crying Fool”
(Howie Epstein X Reader)
concept/draft - @incorrectheartbreakers ❤️
editing - @tompettyaesthetics
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I’ll be your bleedin' heart, I'll be your cryin' fool
It was just another lonely night in an empty bed, and you simply couldn’t shake that thought. It's been almost a year since you lost your beloved friend, and an old lover, Mr. Epstein, as you liked to call him.
As you lay in bed, tears pricking at the the corner of your eyes, you hear the door creak open.
You brush it off as nothing, thinking it had been no more than just the wind. Suddenly, you feel a cold chill run down your spine and a whisper, “Hey.”
You turned around, jaw hung open, “H-Howie?”
You were in complete shock. There was absolutely no way it was him, it just couldn't be. It's ridiculous to think that he would be right here, right now, in your room. He’s dead after all. You must have been hallucinating.
He smiled, “Boo!”
You both laughed. Hearing his laugh again was so refreshing.
“What are you doing here? You're um...” you gestured vaguely at him, “Supposed to be dead.”
He shrugs walking over to your record player and going through the singles, “Supposed to be, but I don't have time for that.”
Your eyes never left him, “Seriously?”
He turned around to face you, “Seriously.”
He clearly didn’t care for the conversation topic, so you dropped it. It was pointless to try to understand it when you could simply enjoy his company.
“A-ha!” He pulled out a record, “I may not play on this one but it is perfect for this occasion.”
He put the record on and jumped onto your bed. You chuckled to yourself as you realize the song he had put on—The Waiting.
He starts singing along with the record, and it dawns on you suddenly how much you've missed his voice. It’s always the little things that you wished he was there for that got you the most.
You sit on the edge of your bed as he shies away to grab the guitar you had in the corner of your room. He swings it over his shoulder and instantly begins playing along, never missing a beat, his fingers dancing across the strings.
This continued for a while before he stopped playing and swung the guitar to the side, opening his arms for you to come over. You first put your arms around his neck, now sure that this had to be real, and then buried your face into his neck, taking in his scent. Your heart can't help break a little.
It was overwhelming to have all of this back, and the memories came rushing in with them. Those all nighters you two used to pull just to get things done, regardless of how small they were; hearing him work on new songs from the other room, and always getting the song stuck in your head; everything.
He pulled away and brought the guitar back in front of him. Looking deeply into your eyes he sang, “Don't let it kill you baby, don't let it get to you. Don’t let 'em kill you baby, don't let 'em get to you. I'll be your bleedin' heart, I'll be your cryin' fool. Don’t let this go too far, don't let it get to you."
Your whole being ached as you realized this was all going to end, knowing that his message was one of growth and getting over this, but having him right there in front of you grounded you in the moment.
He backs away, removing the guitar from his shoulders. Tears had coated your cheeks, and he spoke softly, “I'm always gonna be with you. I don't want you to forget that.”
He smiles and you mumble, “This has got to be the most ridiculous thing you've done in a while.”
“I know,” He nods, pulling you back against him. You stood there for a while before making your way back to the bed where you laid down together.
The song ended and you barely even noticed. Everything felt so peaceful again, and with his arms wrapped around you, it didn’t matter how long you had left, because he was always with you.
