Moses Lake, VA, 1986 | Flipping through a magazine on a boring Saturday afternoon, a flyer for a new penpal service catches your eye, peaking your curiosity. Open to the idea of having a new friend somewhere else in the country, you opt to sign up - excited to engross yourself in a new friendship.
Hawkins, IN, 1986 | Eddie Munson, alienated by all his peers at Hawkins High for his nerdy interests, is desperate for a friend. Spotting an advertisement for a new pen pal service in the back of his uncle's newspaper, Eddie decides that if he wants to make a friend he has to find someone who has no idea who he is.
After filling out the form, checking the boxes next to all your interests, answering the questionnaire, you and Eddie are matched as new penpals. As the letters and postcards are sent back and forth in the mail, your budding friendship with Eddie begins to turn into something a little more.
CHAPTERS
i. girl at home / loneliness at its finest (prologue)
Summary: Abandoned outside a movie theater, Hawkins High’s academic overachiever makes an impulsive choice.
Offering her extra ticket to Eddie Munson.
What happens when the Brain and the Criminal realize they might not be as different as Hawkins High insists they are.
Themes/ Warnings: Swearing/ strong language, No use of y/n, Reader is female, Lengthy talks laced with self-deprecation, a compilation of my teenage struggles as a retired quote unquote academic overachiever
Words: 11,4k words (im sorry)
“Are you kidding me right now?”
You're livid. Absolutely, undeniably livid.
It's bad enough you had to stomp through the freezing dark just to get here, wind slapping you in the face, your fingers basically turning to ice cubes, with a side of sketchy dudes yelling from their cars, making you wish you could disappear. And now, on top of all of that, Jenna, the only one in your grade you have enough of a connection to call your friend, is bailing. After a week of three long quizzes and two group presentations where you basically carried half the members, the one thing you were actually looking forward to is now ruined.
With a popcorn bucket in one hand and the payphone receiver in the other, you barely hear Jenna's voice over the ringing in your ears. Her excuses blur together.
“I lost track of time,” Jenna says, her voice strained and distant across the crackling line.
“My car broke down,”
“I wasn't sure you were actually gonna' go,”
That last excuse pissed you off the most. You've been planning this the entire week. Agreed on the time, discussed the expenses, and now she’s going to tell you that she wasn't sure if the plan was on.
Unbelievable.
You’re about to hang up, maybe mutter a resigned “fine, see you tomorrow,” and just deal with it, when a distant voice drifts through the phone.
“Babe, come back here,” someone calls, muffled but unmistakable.
And then it clicks. Lost track of time, my ass. You’ve been ditched. Ditched for her asshole of a boyfriend, who you’re pretty sure doesn’t even know your name.
You suck in a shaky breath, but it does nothing to quell the frustration you're feeling. Your hand is trembling as you slam the receiver down so hard it rattles the phone, the sound echoing sharp and final. You don't say goodbye. You doubt she even noticed, and if she did, you couldn't care less at the moment.
You trudge to a nearby bench, sit with a huff, and stare at the popcorn in your hands. You fish your pockets for the tickets, tickets you've already paid for, and were about to rip them into pieces when you overhear a commotion.
It was coming from the ticket booth.
“Come on, man,” said the guy who seemed to be the one causing the ruckus. “I'm two cents off!”
You vaguely see the clerk shrugging and shaking their head no, and the guy backs away. He starts to walk towards where you're sitting, and stops short just a little bit to your right.
“Fucking prick,” you hear him mumble under his breath while he lights a cigarette, and as the subtle flicker of the fire comes to life, you finally get a better look at the man's face. You instantly realise who it is.
Munson.
You couldn't recognise him from the distance. His long, wild hair was haphazardly tied into a bun, a couple of strands falling and framing his face. He’s still wearing his leather-vest combo, sleeves pushed up to reveal arms scattered with tattoos, but has decided to forgo the club shirt he wears all the time and is now wearing a band shirt you don't recognise.
You do some soul-searching.
You're pissed, you have a warm bucket of popcorn on your lap, and two unused tickets in your hands.
And now there was a boy standing right next to you, albeit a boy you don't really know, who seems to have a predicament that you can remedy.
Fuck it, you think. It's not like the night could get any worse.
“Hey,” you call out from where you're sitting. He turns his head towards you, eyebrows raised in confusion, but doesn’t say anything right away.
“Hi?” he finally calls back, sounding unsure, like he's trying to figure out where he knows you from. Maybe gym class last year, or that group project where he never spoke– not for the lack of willingness to help, but more so the lack of an audience. Eddie doesn’t think you know each other, which also means you’re not hostile. For the most part, you just floated in each other’s background, orbiting the same halls, but never really crossing paths.
You nod toward the ticket booth. “Freddy’s Revenge?”
He looks back at the booth, still not catching your drift. “Uh, what?”
“The movie you wanna’ see,” you clarify, trying your best to hide the remnants of frustration from your earlier conversation.
“Oh. Yeah,” he says with eyes wide, recognition finally dawning on the boy as he glances between you and the booth. “That one. Yes.”
He’s still visibly confused, which, to your surprise, you find oddly...
Adorable?
The thought catches you off guard, and you quickly shove it away.
You’ve got your answer. Standing up, you walk over and, without a word, thrust the popcorn and extra ticket in his arms—A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge written in fine print. He fumbles at the suddenness of your actions, nearly dropping both in surprise, causing his cigarette to slip from his lips.
As you're dusting off some suspicious patches of dirt on your pants from the rickety bench, Eddie finally catches up to your offer.
He's immediately wary, shoulders stiffening as if bracing himself for the punchline of some joke at his expense. There's a flicker in his eyes that says he's used to people offering things just to snatch them away, or worse, to laugh when he reaches out.
He begins to wonder if there's a catch. If there's an ambush waiting for him behind the theater doors, if you're going to demand free weed at the end of the night for being nice, anything. What could you want from him? Who are you?
Eddie knows your face. He knows he's seen it before, but everyone in Hawkins who wasn't his friends or his uncle has all blended together in his mind. He doesn't remember your name, but he does remember that he can't just keep staring at you for long.
“Are you sure?” Was the question that eventually made its way out of his mouth. He looks at you with this mix of suspicion and hope, the kind of look that comes from having too many good things turn out to be tricks.
You just look at him for a moment, thinking of any reason why you shouldn't be sure.
You're not friends. Barely acquaintances. If anything, you know him more by reputation—rumors of dealing weed in a secret spot in the woods, tagging random buildings with obscure logos, and stealing faculty car keys for a joyride, following his name wherever he goes.
But there's something about the way he's standing in front of you at that very moment. His back is hunched, shoulders drawn in, like he's trying to appear smaller than he is. His eyes were wide and earnest, and his voice deep but impossibly gentle. The contrast between his rough look and the way he acts is almost disarming.
Every reason to say no is quickly overcome by the curiosity to say yes.
“Hog the popcorn, and I'm shaving you,” was the answer you gave him as you made your way to the theater entrance.
You reach the doors. As you’re halfway through opening it, you look back, only to find him still standing by the bench, dumbfounded and looking at you like you might as well have spoken Latin. He couldn’t make sense of you, and now there's something in his eyes, something in the way he was looking at you, but you couldn’t decipher what it was.
“Dude,” you say, beckoning him with a nod to follow you inside, deciding to let your observations go for now.
Only then does he snap out of whatever trance he's in, cheeks tainted pink as he mutters a soft “Shit, sorry,” and jogs to you as fast as he can without spilling the snack in his arms.
The two of you walk side by side upon entering the theater, and Eddie immediately notices the stares, feels them creeping up his neck. His blazing into places isn't anything new. Most people in town have already grown accustomed to his presence, despite it being unwanted. He's learned how to stomach the nasty looks and the harsh whispers. For years now, Eddie had developed the skills to shut them all out. Walk proudly, look straight ahead, and scream as loud as possible on the inside to drown out all the noise from outside.
He doesn't seem to need any of it tonight.
Because tonight, every look of judgment and hurried whisper wasn't for him. They were aimed at you.
The guys by the popcorn line are gawking at you like you’re some carnival attraction, while the girls waiting for their boyfriends shoot you pitying glances, as if you’re trapped in a bad joke.
Somehow, out of the two of you, you’re the freak, just for being seen with him.
As you finally reach the hallway heading to the screening rooms, Eddie urges you to stop.
“Hey, listen. Uh- I don't want to sound unappreciative, but-
“You don't think this is a good idea,” you interrupt, already aware of what the boy in front of you is thinking.
“Not really, no,” says Eddie. He looked so solemn, framed by the theater's dim lights, a soft halo glowing around his curls. His eyes remain downcast, staring at the popcorn bucket still in his arms, flicking up just long enough to meet yours and then darting away, too shy to hold your gaze. For all his wild reputation, the tattoos, the loud music, and the leather, he looked more like someone who’d apologize to a chair after tripping on it, rather than a no-good, criminal in the making.
You think to yourself, there's no way this is the guy parents tell their children about.
You start to speak, your voice low but steady.
“If you wanna' go, that's fine. I won't hold it against you,” you start, angling your head to catch his eyes. He doesn't look up, but you continue. “But if you wanna' go because of me—because you think every half-witted normie back there is bothering me—they aren’t. Right now, I truly don’t have it in me to give a rat's ass. You're not here as a charity case or whatever narrative you’ve got in your head. A friend bailed on me, and you needed a ticket. That’s it. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight,” you finish, your voice growing softer at the admission.
There's a small stretch of silence after that.
At first, you thought this was the part where he apologizes, hands you your things, and turns around to leave you. He doesn't.
Instead, Eddie surprises you.
He moves past you towards the door, grabs the handle, and opens it for you. He gestures with his head as he says,
“After you.”
For the first time that night, you see him smile. It was shaky, hesitant, but authentic. You take it as a victory.
You give him a smile of your own, but it's more playful.
“Good choice,” you say, slipping past him toward the seats.
You both settle near the back, not so close your neck aches, but not so far you feel exiled. The sweet spot.
Or so you thought.
For a while, things between you were a little stiff, which was understandable, seeing as you were two strangers forced into small talk in the dark. The two of you filled that darkness with comments here and there about the previews. He called one of the romcoms “cheesy.” You said something about “cheesy’s not always bad,” and he left it at that with a smile.
You notice, after a bit, that he only grabs popcorn after you do, and never more than two kernels at a time. You counted.
You start grabbing a couple more pieces on purpose just to see if he’ll take it as permission to stop eating like British royalty. He doesn’t.
Finally, you prod him.
“You know, I wouldn’t actually shave your head, right?”
His laugh is nervous and quick. “Y-yeah, yeah, I knew. Totally knew you were joking.”
He’s taking three kernels at a time now, which was progress, but he’s still watching how often you grab some and match your pace.
And then, it was the Battle of the Armrest.
At first, it was the two of you retracting your elbows each time you’d accidentally graze each other, but then, as if he's testing the waters, Eddie bumps you on purpose, a sly little push. You retaliate with a not-so-subtle elbow nudge of your own. It escalates until both of you just start snickering and nudging the other off.
“I got you in here for free with popcorn,” you whisper, faux-offended, as he claims the armrest.
“You mean the popcorn I’ve been holding for the last 20 minutes?” He grins, and you swear you see a dimple.
“It’s been 10.”
“And my arm’s getting numb from it. This is how I lose my rockstar career.”
You smile as you shake your head at his behavior. You surrender, but only for a few seconds. You let him have the armrest, then, once he's comfortable, you move to casually place your elbow over his. He gives you a look, you give him one back as a challenge. He says nothing as he grabs more popcorn to shove in his mouth.
You look away first, but Eddie catches your smile.
And that's when it hits you. You’re actually having fun.
Eventually, the lights went out, signalling the start of the movie, and that's when you saw it.
A few rows ahead, you spot two familiar faces from school, a couple who treat every public space like their own personal stage.
“Can't catch a fucking break in this town,” you mutter to no one in particular, used to voicing out reactions that get drowned in the sea of overly sweet giggles and macho antics of the crowd you run with.
“Jesus H. Christ,” you hear Eddie say beside you, admittedly startling you a bit. You see him looking at the same couple you saw. “Is that not a health hazard?”
This makes you snort. He's funny.
“Might as well call it a threat to national security,” you reply, and both of you snicker, tucked away in your own private bubble.
“We're trying to watch a movie here,” the bubble bursts.
You whip around to find none other than Tommy fucking H, flanked by who you assume as a pack of assholes you never bothered to meet when they were still at school. When did this prick slither back into town?
“Oh, so two people sucking each other's face off is fine, but god forbid two people whisper a bit,” Eddie retaliates before you could fully process what Tommy said.
“Fuck, Munson, is that you?” Tommy says with a condescending laugh, and then, as he notices Eddie's not by himself, “With little Miss Valedictorian, too. How'd you bag that, Munson?
Eddie’s eyes snap to the back of your head, your face turned away from him while you're looking at Tommy. It was as if he was suddenly seeing you in a different light. Of course, you looked familiar. Your name, your face, hell, your entire reputation is plastered everywhere at Hawkins High. Debate trophies, quiz bee ribbons, banners shouting your victories, all branded with your name, flood through Eddie’s mind.
It took Eddie a minute to recognise you because you don't have classes together. He thinks you're probably taking every AP class known to man, while he's stuck wrestling with senior-level algebra for the third time. You're on your way to a bright future filled with college applications, honor rolls, and six-figure jobs, and yet here you are.
With him.
Sharing popcorn and an armrest with the drug-dealing, super-senior, like it's nothing.
Should he have just said no to you from the start?
His internal conflict is disrupted by your speaking up.
“Definitely not by having his daddy do it for him,” you answer back, not appreciating the way Tommy's talking about you, instead of to you. “How's the job search going?”
Tommy pauses just long enough to reload, then sneers, tossing out a half-baked insult meant to drag you both down.
"You know, you should really watch what you say," he begins to say. “Or all you're gonna’ get are junkie dropouts desperate for attention for the rest of your life.”
By now, your back-and-forth has stirred up a commotion, drawing curious stares from the rest of the theater.
Soon enough, one of the workers marched their way to your seats to address you and Eddie, completely ignoring the fact that the gaggle of pricks behind you played a part in the disturbance, too.
“Excuse me, we're going to have to escort you out. Both of you,” said the attendant who approached you.
“Don't bother. We're leaving,” you say, already on your feet and heading for the exit. Sparring with someone operating at Tommy’s IQ level is not on your agenda tonight.
You glance back to see Eddie right behind you, Tommy still snickering with his crew. Before you can stop yourself, words spill out.
“Junkie dropout,” you say vaguely, tossing his words back at him. “Takes one to know one, right?”
You catch his jaw tighten, but you turn away before he can spit out a comeback.
Eddie trails after you as you slip out into the night, finding your way back to the same rickety bench where it all started. This time, Eddie takes the seat beside you.
You lean back, eyes closed, head tipped over the backrest with a sigh. Eddie, perched at the edge, misreads your mood as frustration with him instead of the whole mess. You sense him fidgeting beside you.
“I'm sorry about that,” you hear him say.
“Why?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him fully, eyebrows drawn in confusion.
“I don't know, I–” he stutters, his hands gesturing as if he's physically trying to coax the words out of his chest. “It probably wouldn't have been that bad if I weren't there,”
“That's stupid,” you reply without hesitation. “I don't know how you saw that situation, but you were not the problem.”
Eddie goes silent again. You keep surprising him.
“What did you mean?” he asks, remembering your words before leaving the cinema. “Takes one to know one?”
“Oh,” you say as you sit back up, giving Eddie your undivided attention. “Tommy didn’t get his diploma, not the right way at least.”
No fuckin’ way.
“No, he walked the stage,” he argues, emotions of envy disguised as indifference resurfacing in his mind. He pushes them back down. “I was dealing that day.”
“Oh, he walked, alright,” you say, subconsciously placing your arm on the backrest. You don’t notice that it would only take Eddie to lean back a couple of inches for your arm to be basically wrapped around his shoulder, but he does—and now he’s acutely, painfully aware of it. He freezes, heart hammering so loud he’s sure you’ll hear it. You go on to speak, unaware of Eddie's silent battle. “But that was only because his dad paid off Higgins and half the faculty to save face. Tommy didn’t meet the grade requirements. He tried to, but he didn’t make it.”
Eddie takes this in with a deep, steadying breath, grateful for the distraction of your arm behind him. His whole perspective is skewing off-kilter in real time by your words, and he can still feel the echo of his racing pulse, every muscle in his body slow to unclench from your actions.
“So, it was...”
“Fake,” you finish for him. “Tommy Hagan was a casualty of Hawkins High.”
“Saved by his daddy’s money,” he mutters to himself.
For the first time in a very, very long time, Eddie feels the heavy knot of self-blame loosen just a little. Maybe, sometimes things really are just unfair, and he's not the only one suffering from it. For a moment, the world feels a little less cruel, and he clings to that fragile sense of belonging as if it might vanish any second.
You look over Eddie and take in his features. He seems miles away, dead silent, and lost in thought. You think back on your parting words, and realization dawns.
Takes one to know one. Shit.
“I didn’t mean that I thought you were a–”
“No, I know,” he jumps in, voice soft but eager to reassure you. Guilt keeps your words tumbling out.
“I just– I don’t want you to think that I–”
“I don’t,” he interrupts again without a hint of hesitation in his voice, because he actually does believe you. For the very brief time he’s known you, he’s surprisingly certain that you truly didn’t mean any harm. To hell with cliches, he thinks to himself. You’re different.
Right then, you choose to trust Eddie. You meet his eyes, nod, and lean back, withdrawing your hand. The wind shivers through you, but something else makes you flinch.
“Fuck,” you whisper.
“What's wrong?” Eddie asks, instantly alert. For the first time tonight, it’s you who’s finding it difficult to meet his eyes.
“I–” you falter. Three-time state debate champ, and now you're stuttering through a single sentence. “I just kinda’ wish you didn't leave the popcorn in there,” you finally admit sheepishly.
Eddie stares at you, unblinking, until a slow, irrepressible grin spreads across his face.
Then he bursts out laughing, doubling over with his elbows on his knees and his hand pressed to his forehead, barely holding himself together.
You try to be mad, annoyed that he’s laughing at you during a moment of weakness, but a smile sneaks onto your face anyway. You shove his shoulder with a muttered “fuck off,” nearly sending him off the bench. He only laughs harder, and your grin only grows.
“God forbid a girl is hungry,” you finally manage to say, between his bellows.
The asshole, an endearing one, sure, but an asshole nonetheless, had the audacity to wipe tears from his eyes as he calmed down. Once put together enough, he turns to you and says,
“Well, I know this place just down the street. It's probably still open.”
“I don't know,” you begin, pretending to hesitate, but then you ask, “Do they have good onion rings?”
“No,” Eddie says, voice serious, before breaking into a grin. “Only the absolute fucking best.”
And so the two of you set off on your journey. Eddie stood up first, not bothering to dust his jeans off as you did earlier. He's sat on more questionable surfaces in his 19 years of existence, he thinks to himself. He steps forward, causing you to look up at him, confused. And then, he offers his hand with a flourish, every bit the gentleman.
“I am capable of standing on my own, you know,” you say, but not rudely, an easy smile still on your face.
“Just take my damn hand, Smarty,” he insists, wiggling his fingers at you.
“Smarty?” you ask with a snort of laughter, but to Eddie’s surprise, you take his hand anyway, letting it linger as you stand. For a moment, he freezes, caught completely off guard and confused about what he should do now. He hadn’t expected you to accept, not really, and now he seems genuinely at a loss for what to do next. Then, almost bashfully, he breaks into an easy grin.
“As in smarty pants. It was either that or ‘Einstein’,” he recovers.
“Groundbreaking,” you deadpan.
“I know, right? Absolutely outdid myself with that one.”
He guides you toward his van, parked only a few feet away, your hands still tangled together.
“I can also walk on my own,” you comment, in absolutely no hurry to let go.
“I'm not risking it,” he replies, making a show of intertwining your fingers and placing your still clasped hands inside his jacket pocket, drawing you closer to him.
“Risking what?”
“You. You’re precious cargo,” Eddie tries to say casually, though not quite able to keep the tremor in his voice, knowing he has your hand in his, and you were letting him. “The future of Hawkins, Indiana. First president of the planet ten years from now. I’m not risking you.”
You roll your eyes, but the flutter in your chest betrays you.
“Well, in that case, I think you should be carrying me,” you challenge.
“I would, but tossing you into my van in the dead of night might look a little suspicious.”
When you reach his van, he leads you to the passenger side. You’re halfway to grabbing the door handle with your free hand when his hand darts out to swat yours away with a playful tut and a warning, “Don’t you dare.”
Eddie opens the door for you and helps you up, using your joined hands as leverage. Once you’re settled, he finally lets go, and the absence of his warm, calloused hand is so jarring that you can’t help the involuntary flex of your hand— a subconscious attempt to replicate the feeling, hoping to keep the memory of it a little longer. You look back at Eddie, expecting him to shut the door and circle around, but he lingers.
In the next second, Eddie’s in your space, his arm reaching next to your head for the seatbelt in a single smooth motion. The world narrows to the warm scent of his jacket, the gentle clink of metal as he pulls the belt across your chest and snaps it into place. And then he’s gone again, back where he was standing by the open door with a crooked grin.
“Okay, now this is just excessive,” you say with a huff, after the initial shock has worn off.
“What do you think ‘Eddie’ is short for?” he quips, finally shutting the door and circling the van. You think Eddie sounds nothing like excessive, but you let it slide. Same first letter, close enough.
Once he's settled behind the wheel, he takes the keys out of his pocket and starts the ignition. The van sputters to life, a low tumble echoing out into the empty street. He takes a deep breath and clutches the wheel tight.
“You good?” You ask after a while.
“Yeah,” he starts to say, noticeably breathless. “I just– it's not every day I have royalty to drive around in my humble chariot.”
You stare at him for a beat. You take note of his eyes, a gaze that comes and goes. One moment, you swear you're being hypnotized by its intensity, only to be gone, looking everywhere but you in the next. You notice his slightly trembling hands, which have been unsteady and uncoordinated the moment you placed the popcorn in his arms, and clammy for the short time you had it in yours.
“You've been like this all night,” you say out loud, stating your observation.
“Like what?” he replies.
He keeps his eyes set straight ahead.
“Jittery. Nervous,” you say, ticking off the symptoms. Then, on a hunch, you say, “Do I make you nervous?”
Eddie stills. He slowly turns to you with an expression you’ve never seen on his face all night. One of his eyebrows is quirked up so high it disappeared under his dishevelled bangs, nose scrunched, and mouth left slightly agape. All the nerves and manic energy vanish, replaced by a look of such unfiltered incredulousness. For a heartbeat, he just stares at you, at a complete loss for what to say. When he finally speaks, it’s in a tone so squeaky, you would have been pretty sure only the dogs could hear it.
“You only figured that out now?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, unable to ignore the hilarity of his admission.
“Why would I make you nervous?” you blurt, genuinely stunned. The idea that Eddie Munson could be unsettled by you feels absurd. You’re just another senior, maybe with a few extra ribbons, but still just another face in the crowd. Yet the way Eddie looks at you now, it’s clear he sees something else entirely.
“Because you're…” Eddie starts, then falters, searching your face as if hoping the right words will appear there. He looks away, voice tight. “You're unorthodox.”
“Unorthodox,” you repeat slowly.
“Yeah, like—look, I have a system in place, okay? I have to if I want to survive,” Eddie continues. “If you’re one of us, you’re a friend– an ally. When push comes to shove, even if you don’t like me, I’m there for you. Always. If you’re a jock, you’re a threat. A fight waiting to happen. If you’re in cheer, you’re off-limits. Not even in a romantic sense, you just are. Not as a friend, as a lab partner, nothing. And if you’re Higgins, well, that’s just evil incarnate territory,” his laugh is brittle, forced. You smile tight-lipped, but you don’t laugh, realizing the depth of where his rant is heading.
He swallows hard.
“But you,” he says, head turning in your direction, but his eyes are downcast again, the moment resembling his hesitance to enter the theater with you earlier. He goes on, voice growing softer the more he reveals.
“You don’t fit anywhere. You blow the whole thing up. You’re… valedictorian. Future Nobel Prize winner. The kind of person who has their name uttered in reverence by everyone, the kind of person who always knows the answer. You shouldn’t even be looking my way. I shouldn’t be worth your time, and I would’ve been completely fine with that. Because I believe that. Our worlds should be light-years apart. I can’t even picture your world, let alone imagine you’d ever look twice at mine.”
You stay quiet, letting him fill the silence.
“But here you are, you’re… there,”
He pauses again, drawing in a deep breath before finally meeting your eyes.
“You’re real. You let me hold your hand for Christ’s sake. Me. I keep waiting for the punchline, but it’s not coming, and I have no idea what to do with that,” he says.
Eddie’s voice drops to a near whisper, as if he’s scared that speaking any louder might break whatever fragile connection exists between you. “All night, I kept thinking you’d finally see it. You’d realize you’re here slumming it with the town screw-up, and you’d just get up and leave. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
He keeps his gaze on you, eyes wide and vulnerable. “But you didn’t.”
He rubs the back of his neck, laughter breaking through the nerves, but it’s soaked in disbelief. “So, yeah, I’m nervous. Because how the fuck am I supposed to handle any of this?”
Your heart breaks at his words, every word stealing the breath out of your lungs. You never considered the optics, never needed to. Yes, it was you that the people were gawking at earlier, talking about you like some sideshow act, but at the end of the day, none of it is going to stick anyway. People are just going to brush it off and forget about it. Call it a fluke. A one-time thing. A mistake.
But Eddie, the guy that’s been branded as the town’s own personal bad luck, he’s going to carry this weight long after tonight. He already is. For Eddie, this is permanent. To you, this is a passing storm, and you—you put him right in its path, chasing what you wanted and leaving him to shoulder the fallout.
You swallow, voice fragmented. “I’m sorry.” It’s not enough, but it’s all you have.
Eddie blinks, startled. “Sorry? For what?”
An apology was the last thing he expected to hear as a response.
“For all of it,” you tell him, looking him straight in his eyes, conviction clear in your voice. “For spurring all of this on you tonight. None of what happened, none of what was said back there bothered me, but I didn’t consider whether it bothered you. You said I was the type of person who always knew the answer, but, evidently, it’s not all good either. When you feel like you know everything, you forget to ask.”
He’s quiet for a beat, the silence stretching, but his gaze softens—some old hurt flickering in his eyes, like he’s remembering every time he’s been on the outside looking in.
“And for everything before tonight,” you continued, feeling as if what you just said was inadequate. Eddie responds with a subtle tilt of his head, not catching up on what you were saying.
“The people I hang out with,” you clarify softly. “For what they do, what they say. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, you see him start to close up, shrinking back into a hollow caricature of who he is—old defenses triggered by the mere mention of those people. It’s a habit, you realize, he must have adapted over the years of being scrutinized before being known. No one else would take the time to get to know him, so might as well just give them what they want to see. You assume it’s easier that way. Efficient.
But Eddie immediately realizes that there’s no need to hide who he is. Not with you.
“It's not your fault,” he responds, his voice so quiet, you almost missed it.
“No, but—” You falter, searching for the right words as your chest tightens. “But I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just stood by, every time, and kept silent. I let it happen because it wasn’t about me. But that’s just it. Not choosing is a choice. And I’m sorry for every time I picked the easy one.” You look down at your hands, wishing you could take every moment back, wishing you’d been braver when it counted.
Eddie leans back, his eyes never leaving you. Silence stretches between you until, finally, he smiles.
“I forgive you.”
You shoot him a look meant to say, “This is serious, not the time for adorable smiles and distracting dimples,” channeling your best glare.
“You really shouldn’t,” you say, shaking your head, pushing away the stray thoughts. “Not that easily.”
“Easily?” He asks with a grin, and for a second, you glimpse the version of him that comes alive around people he trusts—lively, teasing, warm. “You offered me a movie, buttery popcorn, stood your ground for me against Tommy H, and, just to bring it up again because I'm still not over it, you let me hold your hand,” he says, humor dancing in his voice, and then, when he notices that you remain unconvinced, he sobers up a bit. “Seriously. We're good,”
All you could do was sigh. He was a persistent guy, and you're done assuming for him. If he says you're good, then you're going to respect that and carry on.
“You won’t get far if you keep being that easy, Munson,” you tease, matching his smile.
“Only for the pretty ones,” he fires back, winking in a way that’s more dorky than smooth.
It fucking worked on you anyway.
“And cheesy as hell.”
“I thought cheesy’s not always bad?”
You give him an audible groan as he lets loose a gleeful laugh.
“Listen,” you say after a pause. “To answer your question about how we handle this, maybe we start small. Baby steps.”
“Okay. Baby steps,” he nods, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as you watch him think. “But, like what, though?”
You pretend to ponder, masking the chaos in your stomach that’s been churning for the last five minutes.
“Maybe you could start by taking this very cool person to this very cool place with the very best onion rings in town.”
“That I can do.”
And off Eddie goes, breaking traffic laws and the sound barrier, while you cling to the seat for dear life. You try to distract yourself by trying to decipher the cassettes poking out of his open glovebox. It was tape after tape of metal bands you didn't recognize, but you tried to file them in your mind, making a mental note to find some of them at the record store the next time you visited.
Metallica, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath, and–
Hang on.
You nudge a few tapes aside, squinting to see if you really read that name right.
Eddie spots you from the corner of his eye, rifling through his collection. There’s a question in his raised brow as he speaks up.
“I mean this in the most respectful way ever, but I don't think there's something in there for you.”
You ignore him, stubbornness kicking in. With a little triumphant noise, you manage to free the cassette from the pile, holding it up to the light for confirmation.
The Sisters of Mercy. First and Last and Always.
“And I also mean this in the most respectful way, Munson, but you are sooo about to eat your words,” you respond, flipping the cassette his way so he can see the front.
Eddie glances over, easing off the gas in the process, and looks at you. His eyes go to the battered cassette in your hands, then to your face, and this motion cycles two more times before he finally speaks.
“No fucking way,” he says under his breath. You smile with mischief.
You clear your throat, summoning the deepest voice your vocal cords would allow.
“In a sea of faces,” you begin to sing, messy and off-key, but it’s enough to send Eddie into another spiral.
“NO FUCKING WAY,” he shouts through a laugh that blends into a scream, ecstatic.
“In a sea of doubt,” you continue, your voice getting bolder with every word, until Eddie clamps his hand over your mouth, grinning like an idiot. You dissolve into a fit of laughter, unable to fight it.
“Nope. Absolutely not. You've fucked my perception of reality over enough for one night,” he says through a gleeful smile.
You wriggle free from his hand so you can speak.
“Fine, no more singing. But I'm borrowing this because my mom “misplaced” the one I bought last year.”
“Deal,” he says, still in disbelief, “Fuckin’ Sisters of Mercy.”
You chuckle to yourself as you pocket the cassette in your hands. You’re both silent for the rest of the drive, stealing glances at each other every now and then, before looking away with a snicker when your eyes meet.
By the time you finally arrived at the quaint diner, you were practically vibrating with hunger, more than ready to jump out of the van and march straight to the counter to demand everything they could serve hot within 10 minutes. As soon as the van rolled to a stop, you fumbled with your seatbelt, then tried to reach for the handle– Lord knows you really tried– but Eddie let out a screech that stopped you cold, your fingers barely grazing the metal.
You think he meant to say, “Don’t do it,” but what actually erupts from him is a sound that you can only describe as a prehistoric, reptilian war cry.
Eddie leaps from the van, nearly tripping over his own feet three times before finally making it to your side to open the door for you.
“Seriously, Marian. It’s like everything we’ve been through meant nothing to you,” he declares with a huff, scandalized by your act of treason that was opening a door on your own. What you latched onto, however, was the new nickname.
“Marian?” You ask as you exit the van, amused at the reference.
“Would you prefer we go back to ‘Smarty’?” he asks, closing the door behind you.
“I’d prefer we get inside and inhale as much greasy food as possible, pronto,” you shoot back.
You start to walk towards the diner, its bright neon lights attracting you like a moth to a flame. As you approach, you notice the slightly chipped paint, well-loved outdoor benches, and unevenly lit signage. While taking in the facade, your eyes land on the familiar face framed by the dusty windows, making you abruptly freeze mid-step.
You stop dead in your tracks, halting suddenly enough that Eddie, walking right behind you, nearly bumps into your back.
“Whoa–” he reacts, hands bracing himself on your shoulders to regain his balance. “Why are we stopping?”
You inhale sharply, feeling the earlier frustration surge back through you.
“Remember when I said I got ditched tonight?” you answer, your voice overly calm and neutral.
He answered, "Yes?" his tone careful, sensing the tension radiating from you.
Words fail you. Instead, you reach up, grab Eddie by the chin, and swivel his head toward the scene. He squints, trying to make out the faces of the guilty parties.
“Which one’s the ditcher?” He asks.
“The blonde one,” you answer through gritted teeth. “The ape in a letterman jacket’s her boyfriend.”
You let your hand fall from Eddie’s face and slip it back into your jacket pocket, releasing a tired sigh. The anger from earlier fades, replaced by exhaustion. Sensing your shift, Eddie moves to stand between you and the window, shielding you from the scene inside.
“Do you want to go?” he asks you, concern written all over his expression.
A part of you does. You steal a glance past Eddie’s shoulder, gaze locked on Jenna and her boyfriend. The old voice in your head is urging you to go. To walk away and slip back into the comfort of pretending none of it bothers you. The option is familiar, an action you've done more times than you care to count. But as you turn to face Eddie, hand fidgeting with the Sisters of Mercy cassette in your pocket, your resolve crumbles.
You don't want your night with him to end.
You want the laughter to keep going, the easy jokes, and the freedom to be yourself. In just a few hours, Eddie has given you more joy than your revolving door of friends have in years.
You glance back at the diner, watching Jenna laugh with her boyfriend, her world spinning on without you. That’s when you decide.
You raise your hand parallel to your elbow, palm facing up.
You offer Eddie your hand.
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks for the second time tonight.
“I am. You?” Was all you say.
“Let's get you those onion rings, Marian,” he says, placing his hand in yours with the conviction of a soldier marching into battle, lacing each finger firmly.
Hand in hand, you step into the diner and claim a booth tucked away in the corner. Heads turn as you pass, Jenna and her boyfriend’s too, you assume. You feel Eddie’s shoulders tense, his grip on your hand tightening with every curious glance.
You both reach the corner booth, mostly unscathed. As you settle in across from each other, an elderly woman shuffles over, her attention fixed on Eddie.
“Look who the cat dragged in,” she says, a warm smile curling at the corners of her lips while her eyes glint with mischief. “My eyesight ain't what it was, but I'm quite sure this pretty thing ain't your uncle,” You see Eddie shrink in front of you, bracing for whatever she’ll say next.
Then, in a whisper that’s not really a whisper at all, Joni leans in conspiratorially, “She your girl?”
Your eyebrows leap in surprise at her boldness, heat rushing to your cheeks. When you risk a glance at Eddie, his eyes are wide, ears burning red, panic written all over his face.
“Christ, Joni,” Eddie manages, his voice strangled by a nervous laugh. He scrubs a hand over his face, as if that could hide his blush. “Ever heard of subtlety?” He gives you an apologetic look.
“Tried it in '62. Worst year of my life,” Joni quips, not missing a beat. She fixes you with a keen gaze, a teasing lilt to her words as she says, “So, you’re not Wayne.”
"Last I checked, no, ma'am." You answer politely.
“You dating this tomato?” she asks you, making Eddie, now red-faced, lean back as if trying to melt into the seat.
“Sorry to disappoint,” you answer with a laugh and a blush of your own. “But we just met tonight.”
She regards you with a quiet hum, looking at you for a second longer before speaking to Eddie again.
“She called me ‘ma’am’,” she says with a satisfied smirk. “I like her.”
“Splendid, Joni,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. Even with half his face hidden, you can see the crimson creeping up his neck. “Can we order now?” he mutters, clearly desperate to change the subject.
Joni finally relents, jotting down your orders: two chocolate milkshakes, a burger with a side of fries for Eddie, chicken tenders for you, and the very much anticipated basket of deep-fried onion rings.
As Joni retreats to the counter, you drum your fingers on the table, letting the silence stretch before finally addressing the bright red elephant in the room.
“Your girl, huh?” you tease, voice low, a smile twitching at your lips as you study Eddie’s expression.
“Quit it,” he shoots back, bristling, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“D’you bring ‘your girls’ here often?”
“Do I look like I have girls to bring anywhere?” Eddie retorts, gesturing at himself, voice half-defensive, half-amused.
“You brought me,” you point out, perching your elbow on the table and resting the side of your head on your knuckles.
“Yeah, and you’re the first,” Eddie admits, his voice softer now, almost shy. This makes you smile wildly.
“I'm honored,”
“I’m gonna’ puke,” Eddie groans.
“Comin’ in hot,” Joni pipes back, bringing your orders to your table. Your mouth waters at the sight, and the aroma of the food seizes your senses. For a split second, you’re so distracted by the food that it takes a moment to register how impossibly quick it all arrived. How did it get here so fast?
Eddie, already on the same wavelength, narrows his eyes at Joni.
“This is someone else’s order, isn’t it?” he says, his tone dry and familiar, suggesting this has happened before. Joni shoots Eddie a knowing smirk as she serves the food, leaving both of you with a sly, “I don’t know what you mean,” and nothing more.
As soon as Joni walks away, both of you dig in, fully realizing that half a bucket of popcorn wasn’t enough to sustain two growing teens for a night. Eddie offers the fries that came with his burger toward you, nudging the plate closer. You return the gesture, sliding a couple of chicken tenders his way. Your next target is the tall glass of chocolate milkshake, topped with, in your opinion, a little more whipped cream than usual. You weren’t about to complain. After taking one sip, you were more than ready to worship the ground Eddie Munson walks on for bringing you to Joni’s diner.
“Holy shit,” you say, setting the glass down with reverence. “Did she steal this from Willy Wonka?”
Eddie’s face lights up, hands tapping the table twice, delighted to finally have someone to share his sentiments with. “I fuckin’ know, right?” he exclaims, leaning in, eyes wide with genuine excitement. “It’s the perfect consistency and everything.”
Soon enough, resisting the onion rings becomes impossible. You nudge Eddie with your foot under the table, drawing his attention away from the ketchup packet he's fiddling with for his fries. When he looks up, you tilt your head toward the steaming basket of golden onion rings between you, your eyes shining with anticipation.
“Together?” he asks, taking a guess at what you’re hinting at.
“Together,” you respond.
You and Eddie each grab an onion ring at the same time. You raise your rings, tap them together in a playful toast, then take a bite.
Your head hits the table.
With your eyes closed, savoring every bite, you have to admit Eddie was right. These are the absolute fucking best onion rings you’ve ever tasted. Maybe it’s hunger, maybe it’s the company, or maybe Joni really is magic. Whatever the reason, you’ve never felt so happy to be ditched.
“If you told me you had friends in high places like this, I would’ve offered you a ticket five years ago,” you mutter after chewing, immediately taking another bite.
Eddie shoots back, “Wait ‘til you find out I got a records guy,” his eyes sparkling with mischief. He’s leaning in, elbows on the table, clearly at ease now.
“He’s single, by the way,” Joni chimes in with a wicked grin, her gaze flitting between the two of you.
Eddie almost dies from choking on an onion ring, his coughing loud and desperate. His face flushes deep red, eyes wide. You double over with laughter, heat rising in your chest, a chaotic mix of concern, delight, and shared embarrassment. The words slip out before you can catch them.
“Good to know.”
Eddie clams up quickly after that, his entire body going completely still, as if his brain has forgotten how to take control of his limbs. He stares at you with the exact same look he had when you first asked him to join you earlier that night.
Flustered, you clear your throat, glance away, caught by the sudden awkwardness. Unsure, you focus on the milkshake, letting its cold sweetness distract from the tension in your chest.
Eddie slowly moves, hand gingerly taking a fry to bite, but what you fail to notice is the faint twitch of his lips—a smile threatening to break free out of giddiness, the tips of his ears flushed as he glances at you from beneath his lashes.
“Hey,”
You both turn towards the sudden intrusion, the noise slicing through the tension like a knife. What greets you is an uncomfortable-looking blonde, hair teased to hell and back, looking everywhere but at who she's supposed to be.
You hold your gaze on Jenna, silent and unblinking. Eddie, restless in the thickening tension, shifts in his seat and finally breaks the silence.
“Can we help you?” he asks, unamused.
Jenna ignores him with an eye roll, her lips pursed in a way that tells you she’s holding back more than she’s saying, and finally turns to you.
“Can we talk?” she snaps, arms folded and a single eyebrow raised. “Alone,”
You settle back in your seat, locking eyes with Jenna and letting the silence stretch, making her wait for your answer.
“No, I'm good,” you state simply.
Jenna’s face pinches, and she lets out a frustrated whine. “Come on, don’t make this harder,” she pleads, but there’s no real remorse in her tone. “I know you’re mad. I’m sorry, okay? Now, can you please leave the freak show?”
“You know, if I squint really, really hard, I think I could almost see a real apology somewhere in there,” you say, your tone light but edged with sarcasm.
Jenna throws her hands up, exasperated. “Oh my–” she grumbles, rolling her eyes so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t pull a muscle. “What is your problem? Are you really this mad over one movie, you’re willing to shack it up with him?”
Eddie takes the insult in stride, letting it wash over him like water on a duck’s back. Chin up, let the noise drown everything out, he reminds himself.
You weren’t as forgiving.
“How did I never notice how blatantly conceited you are until now?” you say with a shake of your head, completely in disbelief with how much you’ve chosen to ignore for the sake of company. “Has it ever crossed your mind the entire time we’ve been here that I'm not doing this to get back at you. That I’m here with him because I wanted to be?”
Jenna doesn’t hesitate. “No, because you wouldn’t,” she answers back. Her conviction makes you laugh.
You lean forward, voice low, not bothering to hide the bitterness that seeps into your words or the despondency you’ve pushed to the farthest depths of your mind. “How would you know, Jenna?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jenna challenges, daring you to admit defeat. That the two of you were never friends. That you clung on to her fabricated kindness because you were more than willing to accept whatever scrap the rulers of Hawkins High’s social hierarchy were willing to give you.
Because you didn’t want to be alone.
But you don't take the bait—not this time.
You sit back, crossing your arms with finality. “You know damn well what it means,” you reply. For the first time, clarity washes over your thoughts—the realization that you don’t owe her anything.
Jenna’s bravado falters, her voice softer now, almost pleading as she tries to salvage the situation. “I’m trying to help you out, okay,” she stammers, eyes darting to the others in the diner, “Leave with us, right now, before the entire town figures out who you are and who you’ve been with,”
You hold your ground. Your eyes find Eddie—still there, unwavering—a stranger just hours ago, yet here he is, determined to keep you company, to coax a smile out of you when no one else bothered. In a town that’s given him every reason to be wary, he’s chosen to trust you even when walking away would have been as simple as leaving you on that cold, dusty bench.
“I’m right where I want to be.”
Jenna’s lips press into a hard, thin line. “Don’t bother talking to me tomorrow,” she spits out, the words brittle and laced with wounded pride. She turns sharply on her heel, shoulders rigid, and you hear the echo of her retreating footsteps. Her voice calls out to her boyfriend, but you don’t look. Even when the bell chimes as they go through the diner’s double doors, you keep your gaze fixed ahead—jaw clenched, hands clasped together, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you stumble.
Once you’re certain she’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your whole body seems to collapse in on itself, your head drooping until it finds a resting place in your hands. Between you and Eddie, the abandoned scraps of food lay cold and forgotten.
“Shit,” you hear him whisper under his breath.
“Yeah,” you laugh, your voice devoid of humor. “Shit.”
Noticing how defeated you look, Eddie rises from the booth. He leans over the table, gathering the basket of untouched food, then makes his way to the counter near the register. You barely register his quiet request to Joni to wrap things up, your thoughts still scattered and far away. When he returns, he doesn’t take his previous seat across from you. Instead, he steps around the table and slides into the booth right beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours.
Gently, his hands find your wrists and coax them free from your defensive posture. You let him guide your arms down, following his lead until your head settles on his shoulder, catching the uneven texture of his denim vest. His hand comes to rest at your temple, soothing your turbulent thoughts.
You hear him speak.
“I don’t get it,” he admits.
You turn, shifting to face him more directly, your voice soft but tinged with curiosity. “Get what?”
Eddie exhales, gesturing toward the swinging diner doors where Jenna disappeared. “That,” he says, the word heavy with meaning. “I mean, I admit, I never really paid attention to you before tonight,”
“You have a way with words,” you interrupt.
“But,” he cuts in, meeting your eyes with an earnestness that makes you falter. “These cynical eyes of mine have seen enough to know that people should adore you. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, and all that. The way the food chain goes, you should be right at the top with them, maybe even a tier above. Everyone who wants to be someone should be hanging on to every word you say. Not driving you away the moment you don’t fit perfectly into their meticulously manufactured life,” he shakes his head, voice dropping, “She barely tried to get you back on their side.”
His words sting, not because they’re wrong, but because they land so close to the truth. Jenna barely put in the effort with you, but what hurt more was witnessing firsthand how easily people can dispose of you—the moment you’re no longer useful, you’re gone. The realization sits heavily in your chest, leading you to your confession.
“I don’t have friends, Eddie,” you say, in a voice so small and vulnerable, you had a hard time believing it was yours. “I’m a convenience.”
You hesitate, fingers twisting together in your lap. “Jenna, she—” You pause, steadying yourself with a sharp breath, and look up at Eddie, searching his face for judgment but finding only patience. “I just started hanging out with her earlier this year. She was nice enough, you know? Sat next to me during class, invited me to parties…”
You force a faint smile, “And then came the favors. First it was homework, then a couple of reviewers, and after that, it just… escalated.”
Your confession shifts something in both you and Eddie. For the first time, you see the truth of it laid bare—how much you’ve pretended this was normal, how lonely you’ve felt all along.
You swallow, voice thick. “And I ignored it. I kept telling myself that’s just how it is between friends. That maybe I was lucky anyone wanted me around at all.”
Beside you, Eddie’s hand curls into a fist. His jaw tightens, and you can see the frustration flicker across his face.
“Jenna, and everyone that came before her… they only ever listened to me because they had to. Not because they actually wanted to.” You say it quietly, the realization settling over you like a cold shadow.
Eddie sits with your words, chewing his cheek thoughtfully. After a moment, he finally asks, “Then why do you stay?” There’s no accusation in his tone, just honest confusion.
You stare at the table, searching for the right words. “Because if I don’t, then all I’m left with is what’s in here.” You tap your temple, giving a weak, humorless smile. “And it’s not always pretty.”
Eddie’s expression softens, and you realize he understands in a way most people never could. He knows those voices—the ones that take center stage in his mind, whispering self-sabotage, self-doubt, relentless criticism. He’s battled them too.
Eddie recalls his words just a few hours ago.
If you're one of us, you're a friend.
When push comes to shove, I'm there for you.
Always.
So he makes it a vow.
“I'd stay,” he tells you. Not as a suggestion, but as a promise.
You blink, not sure you heard him right. “Hm?”
Eddie mirrors your gesture, tapping your temple. “When it gets ugly in there,” he says softly, “I’d stay.”
You search his face, voice barely audible. “Why?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You’re one of us,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
You act before you can think, your body moving on instinct.
In a heartbeat, you wrap your arms around Eddie, holding him tight—needing the comfort more than you ever realized.
It was awkward, given your position, but Eddie hugs you back, his hand gently rubbing your back, offering you the comfort you've denied yourself for so long.
You might have stayed in that embrace forever, if not for the sound of someone clearing their throat awkwardly nearby.
“I-uh, don’t mean to interrupt—” Joni’s voice breaks through the haze, hesitant but kind. She’s standing just off to the side of the booth, a plastic bag of takeout dangling from her hand. “But we’re closing up soon.”
You blink, disoriented, the world rushing back in. “Closing?” you mumble, suddenly aware of the emptying diner around you.
You realize it’s just you, Eddie, Joni, and a few lingering staff left in the diner.
You slip your hand from Eddie’s back and glance at your watch.
“Shit.”
Eddie frowns, confused by your sudden urgency. “What’s up?”
“Curfew,” you reply, already on your feet.
“Where do you live?” Eddie asks, sliding out of the booth to let you pass. He grabs the bag from Joni as he moves.
You catch your reflection in the dark window, fixing your hair absently. “Maple Street,” you say, glancing at Eddie. “You know it?”
Eddie, who’s driven Mike Wheeler home a few times, nods. “Like the back of my hand.”
You nod back, already moving for the doors when something tugs at your memory, making you pause mid-step.
“Oh!” you blurt, spinning around to face Joni, who’s still standing nearby with a gentle, knowing smile. “How much do I owe you for the—?”
Joni waves you off with a laugh. “On the house, honey. But only if you promise to come back for a second date.”
Eddie starts to protest, “It’s not a—” but you cut him off, grinning. “Easy,” you say, matching her playful tone.
You share a glance, grinning in sync, before heading out together.
“I’m usually not one for reckless driving, but–”
Eddie twirls his van keys around his finger, grinning at you. “Say less.”
You’re not sure if the van wheels touched the ground once after Eddie stepped on the gas at full throttle, but you can’t say you’re not grateful for Eddie’s complete disregard for traffic laws. You make it home only a couple of minutes past your curfew, giving you plausible grounds to use a delayed screening and an impromptu dinner as an excuse.
Technically, the second one wasn’t a lie.
You barely register the van’s engine dying before Eddie is already out of his seat. He rushes around the front, opening your door for the third time tonight. The gesture is so familiar now that it makes you smile.
You step out onto the curb, stretching your legs. The cool night air hits your face as you fall into step beside Eddie on the walk to your porch. With a grin, you nudge him playfully. “Ever consider NASCAR?”
Eddie shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, trying—and failing—to hide his pride. He glances at you with that crooked grin you’ve grown to adore. “You think I got a shot?”
“I think there’s already a trophy with your name on it.”
You and Eddie reach your front door in a few quick steps. His footsteps echo on the porch, each one slower than the last, as if he’s trying to delay the inevitable goodbye. The final thud of his shoes feels heavy—final, somehow.
You turn to face him, lowering your voice so it won’t carry through the front door. “I’ve reached my verdict,” you say, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “You’re not terrible company.”
You catch Eddie’s fingers fidgeting nervously in his pockets. He lets out a soft chuckle, eyes darting away.
“Neither are you,” he whispers back.
You hesitate, searching his face for something—maybe a reason to stay out here just a little longer, but you know it’s time. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, forcing yourself to step back, even though you wish the night could last forever.
Eddie’s smile wavers just a bit, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
Tomorrow. At school. In front of every student, every clique, and walking stereotype. You’ll see him.
But then what?
“Will you?” Eddie blurts out, unable to hide the doubt in his voice.
You didn’t understand the question, not immediately. You don’t pick up on Eddie’s doubts. How he questions if you’re truly willing enough, brave enough, to continue standing by his side. It wasn’t fair on your part to assume what you’re capable of, but unfairness has followed Eddie like a shadow his entire life. He doesn’t just expect it, he welcomes it.
What if you pass each other in the hallway tomorrow? The thought prickles at the back of his mind, sharp and sudden.
When you walk on by, surrounded by dozens of probing eyes and chattering lips.
Will you smile at him the way you did tonight, with no shame or hesitation?
Will you call his name?
Or will you walk away, pretending this night meant nothing?
Before you can form a response, Eddie steps back, his shoulders tense. He keeps his gaze averted as he heads down your porch, retreating toward his van, each step quicker than the last.
“Nevermind. That’s—never mind.” His voice is quiet, almost lost in the night air. He doesn’t wait for your answer.
But you give it to him the very next day.
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins High cast dark shadows as he leaned against his locker, only half-listening to his friends drone on about some math test. He kept glancing up, nerves on fire, until he finally saw you walking down the crowded hallway. Two different girls from the cheer squad to your right– none of whom is Jenna– and a jock on your left. For a moment, Eddie’s heart sank. Was last night actually just a fluke? Had you slipped effortlessly back into your old role, leaving everything that transpired the night before behind?
But then he really looked at you. The girl approaching him looked different—your eyes distant, your expression flat. Gone was the girl who smiled too widely, laughed too loudly, and sang off-key last night. Eddie’s chest tightened. It felt wrong to see you like this, like watching someone else wear your skin. With his hands into fists at his sides, Eddie fights the urge to make it right. He stayed rooted to the spot, letting that feeling remain as it is.
A feeling.
As you drew closer, the noise of the hallway faded into a low hum. Your head lifted, eyes scanning the crowd, then finding him. Eddie felt his breath catch, the seconds stretching impossibly long. For a split second, he wondered if you’d look away, pretend he wasn’t there. But instead, something in your gaze flickered with recognition. Slowly, your lips curved into a small, genuine smile, softening the mask you’d worn moments before.
“Hey, Eddie.”
a/n: This took a lot out of me, so I'm not really sure if I'll revisit this anytime soon. For the meantime, please assume that they lived happily ever after.
Summary: The mundanity of Hawkins, Indiana led you to develop a certain habit. What happens when a certain metalhead takes notice and misinterprets it entirely?
Themes/ Warnings: Swearing, No use of y/n, Reader is female and awkward af
Simone Mortis 19 working as a computer scientist lives next to lockwood & co, George knew her as someone who smiled easily especially at him constantly flirted with him and was an overall pain in his ass the bud of most jokes he took her advances like they were sultry attacks to belittle him.
He was gruff with her and unfortunately He’d cross paths with her often and she loved to get under his skin making him leave in a flash or forget himself and talk about all the research that's been fascinating him recently only for him to remember who he's talking to abruptly leave. But she'd always smile this winning smile and she'd got a glimpse of the only magic in the world.
Their routine was as follows: she would walk out to go to work always waving to George, who was getting their mail, would scowl and mutter something close to it being too early, and she’d grin and say that he was right; it's way too early for him to be so radiant. He groans and slams the door, and then she's back 6 on the dot always shed lean on her car; she always leaned, she’d smile at him and tease looking at him in this intense kind of way, and she'd stay there planted long past sundown if given the chance because sometimes.. Most times, he was coming back around then from the archives or a job. And he'd be a bit tired and easier to rile up, and then he’d storm inside and shed a look at the sky.
Until one night through the thin walls of 35 Portland Row George, Anthony, and Lucy sat in the kitchen and heard the phone ring in Simone’s home there was a muffled hello and then a slam and that perked them up they followed the tumbling as Simone ran out of her home 8 o’clock at night sundown and ghosts out she slams into her car hardly looking around as she backs out and shes screeching down the street George comments Anthony raises his eyebrows and lucy dryly says I wonder what that was about.
George is worried though in a way he didn't think he'd be worried and it doesn't ease till the low hum of her engine is heard a again clicking off and into her parking spot in front of her home and shes opening the door for a young red faced girl with a bruise on her eye and she leave the car door open as she open she flat door and point to things tense till she shut the door behind the girl and walks back to her car leaning onto it she hold her face and then kicks her tire in frustration and then she keels over in almost pain and she stops smiling.
She waves at George but their routine has shifted. She is no longer alone in the mornings before work her eyes are trained on her car the girl stutters to say something and simone just mutters a cold get in the car and then she is no longer home at 6 right on the dot. She gets home around 8 and she doesnt look up at the sky anymore she looks down, eyes once full of a growing fire vanished.
A soft knock on Lockwood and Co leaves the three learning that the girl is Simone's sister, Annabella, she left her key on the nightstand that morning, and they do not have a good relationship. Georgie quips that she still rushed out in the middle of the night and the girl deflates and Lucy hits his head as the girl confesses that she was an idiot to Simone a long time ago and then left her alone and then came crawling back like she never made a mistake and her older sister still came and got her. She cries, and George is awkward. They all are as Anthony gently pats the little girl, and Lucy asks her if she can do something nice to fix it, and she bawls, "How do you fix leaving your sister alone in a hospital," She cries, "She was labeled a Jane Doe I got the call and I never came
She's bawling, and there's a hard knock on their door; it’s 5 o'clock. Simone tilts her head at the sight of her teary-eyed sister, and she just sighs, face hard. She nods, signaling to get to their house, and Annabelle scurries out. She says a quiet apology, fire snuffed out. Anthony and Lucy make excuses to get away, leaving Simone and George alone, standing by the door. Then George says something awkward about the weather, and Simone laughs despite herself. She looks sideways, head pointed down, smiling because of his acerbic sense of humor, she says "goodnight, George," and he huffs a grumble because his chest beat easier the minute she smiled, and that's not how it's supposed to go.
I don't know if there is a need for these kinds of stories or a want for an oc but the name came to me and then everything else fell together I might write it might not.
Went a bit overboard on this but again self indulgent. I hope you guys are liking this. Have a great day lol
3.4k words (idk what the hell I was on to write so much usually stay around 2.somethingk)
Lightly touched up Grammer and spelling kinda proof read for the most part so bare with it hopefully it all makes sense
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Chapter 3- Waltz
"Kenji Ito..he was like a brother to me..I'm sure you saw, he's a great guy, I've known him for 9 years..uh, I don't really know what to say. What do you want to know? You saw everything?" You ended your sentence in question, your awkwardness of the subject apparent as you tried to pretend to know what to say. You knew she didn't see 'everything' but it was enough you thought. Though you could relate.
When you see your soulmate you don't see their entire life you see parts of them that are uniquely theirs you see all sides of them so you can learn why they are perfect for you. It's not enough to fall in love, sure, but, if you do learn something about them it becomes strong enough to make you want to know more. Make you want to learn every other thing you don't know about the person. That's why she sought you out. And it's why you went to every game of his you could. It's why you were going to the same school as him even if it's a longer bike ride then the one closer to your house.
You both sat on a bench at a park up the street from Yamamoto's office in silence for a beat. You often come there to think after one of your appointments. This time, however, instead of sitting alone you sat with Himari. She sat on the bench while you sat up on the table. You didn't want to look her in the eyes. Your heart broke for her. It often did before you met her as well. As you'd look at your fallen friend covered in tubes.
You cleared your throat, shifting to rest your arms on your knees, leaning out slightly. You only took quick looks at the girl she seemed to be shaking slightly hunched in on herself much like yourself if you were being honest.
"I..I honestly just wanted to talk to you. Hear about him..any stories you may have had..have you seen your soulmate?" Her voice was hesitant; it gripped your heart and shattered it. Her sadness was visible like she had deflated to a third of herself. And from the looks it had been that way for days.
As you tried to conjure some words you stilled. What do you even say? Your breath was shaky as you started to smell smoke. You blinked and you were back to that day. It was the day you were supposed to be released from the program. Everyone free, safe, and alive. Only you weren't as when Kenji rounded the corner from the building he had been staking for the past week he fell to his knees. It was a blur of confusion. Your breathing became almost ragged as you smelled the thick metallic smell of his blood. It felt as if your world was shaking, you felt completely unbalanced. You weren't there anymore. You were safe. He was recovering. His coma was for his body to heal. He will be up soon. Your chest rose and fell heavy as you tried to pull your thoughts away from that day. Your eyes were screwed shut as you hunched closer to yourself.
"L/n?" Hamari's voice brought you back and you took a short breath in throwing your back down to the table top. You looked at the sky as you thought of only the question she asked you. Forcing yourself to shut your mind off. She deserved some words at least. She was the same as you. She wanted to know her soulmate and the only way she knew she could was through you. The wind has a bite to it you noticed. Glancing, you saw her shiver as she looked at you. She was pretty. She looked a bit disheveled though. She had no jacket on and she looked as if she had rushed over to find you.
Letting out the air stuck in your throat you leaned back up, "Yes I have seen my soulmate," you stripped yourself of your jacket plopping it on the older girl. Watching her whirl around in a blink, "I know exactly how you're feeling and why you're here." You tried to put on a facade of unfazed objectiveness. Hoping the blunt truth would make the failure you felt at not protecting him and ruining her chance of a soulmate hurt less. That the squeezing you felt in your lungs would be forgotten if you just let out the absolute even-handed truth.
You watched her shift so she was now facing you, legs crossed close to her body, her face and eyes screaming for you to continue to tell her everything she did not know. You could only look her in the eye for a moment. Taking a shuddered puff of air at the brisk weather. Your sweater was very thin, you just now noticed; you should have layered. You looked straight ahead much like you would with Yamamoto not looking at her but past at something entirely not there.
But real.
"Kenji was..well what do I even say he was one of the best men I've known next to James...do you know James?" You glanced at the girl to watch her eager head shake up and down vigorously. She looked as if she was taking in and breathing every word you said like it was the first time she had ever heard someone speak. It was daunting. You didn't deserve that amount of attention. It should be directed at Kenji. She should be looking at him like that as he shared his life with her. Not the other way around. Your jaw clenched as you grind your teeth for a moment.
Sucking in you continue, "..Kenji taught me a lot of things. He was the kind of guy to...you know..to look out for people he..well he had always tried looking out for me god I was half his age when I joined so he tried to make sure I was still experiencing things kids should you know? Guess he thought I was growing up too fast or seeing too much too young because he'd make sure to try and goof off with me you know?"
Hamari picked up on your awkwardness. She watched you fumble with what to say. And she smiled because as she took everything in she was struck by your eyes. It was as if you were replaying every moment you had with him. She could tell how hard it is for you to tell her that much. Just surface level things about him. She saw just how much you cared to say the right thing for her. But more importantly for him.
"He taught me how to play guitar." You were searching for things to say when that memory struck you. Your lips nudged upward at the thought. You let out a laugh, "he learned to impress you, said 'girls like a man who can play an instrument' I had been very neutral at the time you know tried not to let the world and my life effect me built up this wall of indifference...Kenji was a good guy..he tried to tear down that wall. He's honestly a lot of why I am the way I am today.." you paused. This felt more natural. You felt as though you were a baby stumbling at its first steps before but now words were coming to you by the dozen all desperately wanting to come out. To finally let them out about him. Your Comrade. Your teammate. Your teacher. Your first friend. Your brother.
"..he always said that it was important to be honest. And to say what you meant and felt. Said guessing and being dismissive about things was a waste of time. I..I'm trying to be more like that. To say and do things more honestly... He always said we had nothing to be ashamed of.. if he were here right now he'd probably put me through the wringer huh? Probably drag me down to my soulmate and demand I explain everything...he wasn't like that though..sure he'd probably be mad but he'd have sat there and listened to me and why I stayed away..or why I wasn't very honest.." you weren't talking to her anymore you were more talking to yourself. You could see him sitting there. His blue eyes piercing through you. Looking at you in the way he always did. He was gentle and firm. He was so strong. Stronger than you and James; stronger than everyone.
Hamari digested everything. She watched your turmoil and the fondness in your eyes. She watched you adjust your sleeves up, you weren't paying attention. But her eyes snapped to your inner arm. She let out an unnoticed gasp. It had been quiet but it was there. But you were gone trapped in your mind.
You shifted again clearing your throat as you rubbed your eyes; they burned. "Kenji took pride in you. That you were out there. He hadn't seen you..I'm sure you know right.. he learned a lot of things to impress you... Think he thought he had to.. thought he had to have things to offer to be loved. He learned piano and guitar, how to dance and cook, he played sports..I'm sure you saw he played volleyball. He had been a setter.. real good according to him. He taught me all of these skills. Whenever he could. Any time he sat me down to learn them I always slipped away into a place where I was just a kid learning these things for fun...I was in a way..but he made sure to teach me without fail because of the escape it provided. I particularly liked music, not so much dancing. You need alot of grace and poise to dance. He knew all sorts of dances. He knew I hated learning. So he forced me when I got particularly lippy." You laughed looking at the sky. At the setting sun the pinks and oranges that danced in the sky mixed with the dull blue that stayed constant in the heavens.
You often liked looking at the sky pretending you were a bird free and unchained. That's why you had been so enchanted with Bokuto. He flew high like a bird. His carefree nature struck you. The perfect opposite. Would he help you become more open?
"James and him had a lot of fun making me dance, thought it was amusing how grumpy I looked as I followed their words. Think they thought it was hilarious that I listened to them even though I was very obviously displeased you know...wanted to make them happy...became a pretty good dancer because of it." You hummed, "...Kenji also made sure I learned academic stuff...he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he assisted James in teaching me basic stuff. You know?" You finally looked at her.
Her eyes looked different, knowing and full of understanding. She still seemed to take in your words but something was hidden in her eyes like she knew a secret she couldn't say out loud. She smiled at you and you were hit with her resemblance to the boy who stayed on your mind constantly. You looked away. You noted that her smile seemed faker than ones you'd seen. Like she was forcing herself to smile. Hunching down and fidgeting with your hands. You couldn't look her in the eye anymore.
".. Kenji's conscious in the coma." She whispers, making you flip your head back to her. Eyes wide with tears filling them with every word she spoke. She had finally decided to say what had been on her mind. It had practically slipped out. A fact she didn't say out loud until then. She had put on a facade and you finally knew why. You also fully understood why she came to you.
"He wanted me to move on...he was constantly thinking of you and James and me and how we had to let him go. How could he..I why would I?" She was in tears crying freely. She started to hiccup her words didn't make sense, her thoughts in shambles as she finally admits that her soulmate wanted her to move on. It hurts so much to think about.
You're stuck. You were never very good with crying. You did your best to awkwardly fumble through those situations whenever they came but right now you could tell that wouldn't cut it. You pushed yourself off the table. And turned to face her. The sky was dark by this time and the lights that were normally off flew one illuminating the park.
"Come here." You say gently bowing to her with your left hand outstretched you smiled a small but hopefully warm smile, "may I have this dance?" She sniffed, coughing slightly. Rubbing her eyes and cheeks to remove the tears.
"Wha-what?"
"Will you take my hand?"
".but..but I'm imma mess.. and and there's no music.." her words were practically sobs unintelligible for the most part. She tried to wipe her hands only for you to gently take them slowly moving her into position.
"There's music in my head.." you mutter as you place one of her hands on your shoulder and the other you keep in your hand, "...just follow my lead...you will be okay..." You were gentle words quiet as you slowly began to lead her into a waltz. Correcting her missteps and slowly letting her calm down.
"...Kenji is an idiot..a hopeless, stuck in his way, guilt ridden, romantic, idiot. He I'm sure thinks it's best for us all to move on and forget about him..but he's funny. He touches people's hearts and completely changes how they beat. I am not ever going to give up on him. So long as there are stars in the sky he will be taken care of. I understand that his situation is a hard one. To be his soulmate right now can look grim and pointless. But he has so much to give he completely dedicates himself to the things he cares about... You don't have to stay with him. No one would blame you for moving on..but I hope you don't. He could use someone to lean on. Maybe knowing you're there waiting for him will get him out of bed sooner. He always was trying to find ways to impress you... So I hope you ignore what he says..I know him enough to know he doesn't mean it. As much as he valued honesty he always tried to put others before himself. So make the selfish choice for him. Please love him and be there for him." You looked only at the sky as you said these things.
You gently swayed her around the bench you once sat at. Pulling her away to spin her and drawing her back. You stayed slow as you twirled her around. He had taught you how to do this specific dance after you recovered after seeing your own soulmate.
"..I'm not going to move on." She says as you spin her once again. You smile at her, "Thank you for telling me about him today."
"I owed it to you."
"It wasn't your fault." You nearly stilled at her words. Deciding instead and almost forcibly to turn her around so you were dancing with her back to you for a beat. You don't respond to her but she doesn't let up with her piercing words, "You're my brother's soulmate." She didn't phrase it as a question; words pointed. She would get an answer out of you. She was stubborn. She would work well with Kenji you thought briefly as you stopped your dance completely. It was only for a second; hands squeezing her own just slightly tighter.
"...how did you know?" You meekly looked at the sky. You wished to simply run away but you knew you couldn't. You had been caught.
"Your mark on your wrist. You moved your sleeves up before. I've seen the same mark for almost 2 years on his own...I couldn't have not recognized it."
You stayed silent; frightened by what her knowing would mean for you. You could feel your heart hammering in your ears. More scared of what she was going to say next than you had been for a long time.
"I understand why you haven't said anything yet... I saw you too when I was watching Kenji.. you and him I'm sure feel the same about your time there...but I want you to know he will love you." Himari wanted to say everything she could for you to feel better just as you had for her. She was surprised that you kept dancing. She watched your eyes dance as well. Mixed and flowing with emotions and memories she would never fully understand.
"...how do you know?.." your voice was small. Barely audible. She watched your jaw clenched up and she felt your hands go stiff and firm. But you still moved with grace. The dance was longer than most. But it was a distraction, a means to tunnel out too much emotion and energy. And she noticed how it helped you come to terms with what she said. It allowed you to do something mindless as your own mind swam through millions of thoughts. She tried her best not to step on your feet or stumble as to not break your thinking.
"..that's just who he is..he would love you then and now and probably forever."
"You think so?" Your voice seemed to have a light hopeful twinge to them.
"I know so," she giggles. You peeked at the girl who was smiling gently at you. If you hadn't seen her cry just a bit earlier you wouldn't have known. She seemed lighter. Like she had come to the realization of something major.
"Why do you love Kenji?" It was a half moon tonight. It was a lot darker than when you first started to dance. And you wondered if you should have let James know where you were and why you were gone so long.
Himari laughs at your question. It took you by surprise. Was it a funny question? "Because I saw him." She breathes in a breath of air speaking as if It was the most obvious thing in the world, "Just like you saw my brother. I saw how kind and considerate he was. I saw his sleepless nights of practicing random skills. I saw how attentive and compassionate he was with everything he did. I saw his flaws, his unchangeable mindset and his need for perfection. I saw the trouble he got himself into and every bit of sadness he felt for everything. He's a good person. You're a good person. You could have walked away from me. Told me you didn't have a clue who I was talking about and left. But you didn't. You wasted a day talking to a stranger about your brother. You comforted me and danced with me even as it made you uncomfortable and awkward. My brother will love you. Please just let him."
You were speechless. You close your eyes, head still tilted up. Your neck started to ache. You took in her words. You tried desperately to let them soak in. You decide then you should finish the dance. Spinning her to a close you separated and bowed at the golden eyed woman. She smiled at you. In a way you could now recognize as sisterly. If It had been a couple years ago you would have brushed it off not knowing how to describe it. It took Yamamoto explaining to you that you didn't need to share blood to have a family and definitely not to have friends.
"...I would..if he chose me..." You say to her softly bringing your hands to your pockets as you shift from foot to foot. The temperature had dropped quite a bit. Himari hugged the jacket you had given her as close as she could to herself as she nodded at your words.
"Of course he'd choose you." She says simply.
You make an amused sound at the back of your throat. Sighing you look at your feet, "maybe.. will you be okay?" You switch the subject allowing your worry for the lady to take over. As she nods, smiling strangely happy.
I had more inspiration for this 3rd chapter is already almost done I hope you guys are enjoying this I've been having fun writing it and blurbs about it so that's all that really matters I guess lol
Either way I hope you like this next one! Btw Bokuto is coming very soon just gotta build up I'm planning on having this be a bit drawn out not just with them meeting up but them as a whole their relationship and everything like I said before this is a very self indulgent thing where it's hopefully gonna go over the before after and in between lol
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Chapter 2- Paint
"You know, if it hadn't been for Hana, James' wife, I don't think either of us would have transitioned well into this new life. "
You were sitting across from Yamamoto once again. She had painting supplies littered across the coffee table and while you weren't much of a painter you did try using her acrylics to hopefully paint a cityscape. Yamamoto stayed silent, allowing you to share as much as you wanted. Your talking seemed light, almost off handed but she could tell by the way you shifted in your seat that you would soon say more.
"Hana had cancer, that's why James went into the program to hopefully handle the medical bills..." Your face scrunched slightly becoming solemn, "He used to cry a lot at night.. quietly.. alone looking at her picture.. I think he wanted to be by her side.. he really loves her.." you never once looked up from your painting letting out a huff of air when you realize adding green to one of the buildings made it look weird.
"..he almost died once.. he and I were on a mission in France in 'the Gate' and well we were walking in some small country town it was a mission to see if there was any life besides those things.. and well it was real quiet nothing around that's the eerie thing about silence it says a lot more than when it's loud." You scoffed, " We should have known from the silence and vacantness of that town it wasn't safe." Your head shook as you looked up at the Yamamoto, turning serious.
"See there are two types of shadow people, one that acts just like a normal person only they have no face or speech, just empty black figures that pretend to do human-like things but really can't." You explained your voice stern as you moved your body to completely look at the women. "And then there is the 2nd type they're more intelligent than the first bunch which made it worse cause with the intelligence came aggression. And how you knew which type was in which place was if it was empty and silent...they like to lead you into a false sense of security.." You looked back down at your painting grabbing a bottle of indigo paint and putting it on your board of colors.
"We hadn't noticed to caught up in a conversation... He had been telling me about his wife. He got a letter from her that said she was cancer free.. he was over the moon about it.. and well it had been contagious it took my mind off what we were doing.. why we were there..." Your hand started to fidget with the dried paint on your board, shoulders slumped in on yourself as you shook your head in disapproval"If I went back now I would have screamed at my past self I would have told myself for the love of God pay attention... "
Your voice was clipped, your eyes glazed over, tone became monotone and detached as you recalled the memory"But we hadn't been paying attention and they attacked. They came out of nowhere and they attacked at every angle. It was terrifying. We barely survived.. when we finally thought it was over I had set my gun down to sit down and breath but I guess James.. he saw something I hadn't.. " you sucked in a shakybreath fists tightening in your lap, "it happened before I could even blink when his voice yelling my name finally reached my ears he was already on the ground and the thing that almost took my head was lifeless behind me."
Your face remained the same, it was your eyes that haunted Yamamoto, your eyeswere in agony showing just how deeply this moment affectedyou however indifferent you seemed to display. Your eyes were glazed with a tormented look and your what if questions screamed out of your pupils but your face remained the same calm even. Same light deadpanned look.
"I honestly even now couldn't tell you what happened in that second all I can is that James was bleeding out. The intelligent ones could make weapons out of their hands; they didn't try to pretend to be human they only took that form to taunt us... That's why he was bleeding out though it had stabbed him. James isn't a bitch-- sorry-" you shuffled in your seat sitting straighter you coughed eyes closed, "so when I saw him practically screaming in pain, shock taking over his system, blabbering about Hana as he tried desperately to close his wound I couldn't even think. I just ran to him. Dressed his wound best I could and threw him on my shoulders..." You paused in thought, "I guess I was in shock as well.. I didn't even think. I wasn't even thinking. I just knew I had to move or he would die. I mean hell I was injured myself but the thought never crossed my mind...the pain didn't even register..all I could think about was that James was gonna die because of me.."
"Bleed out or get infected were his options if I didn't move" your voice was blunt as you said both outcomes sent a shiver through Yamamoto.
You cleared your throat again"..and neitherone did I want to happen so I just went into action.. carried him over my shoulders like that for two hours. It. was. horrible. He's a big guy and a lot taller than me so it was awkward and I was in shock I wasn't thinking straight I was scared shitless.. " you didn't seem to notice your swear this time your eyes gone as you relived the moment you were describing."..that he would die so it was not an easy journey. Had to take him back to the launch pad we had set up. Thing was he was the one with the pilot training so I would have had to fly the helicopter we had arrived on.. some sort of luck was on his side that day though all things considered cause a rescue team had been dispatched to us." Your tone seemed to change almost thinking something was funny. Your eyes remained cheerless.
"Ha I had been in such a state of shock I had forgotten my walkie and radio and in 'The Gate' they took it very seriously when people didn't respond so they sent a nearby team to investigate." You smiled,"Haha they found 15 year old me carrying James's grown ass on my shoulders- sorry. But uh when James was all stitched up and healed I thought he'd leave to go back to his wife just like Aiko did after her purpose for being there was gone." Your mood seemed to shift. Yamamoto noted that you switched to lighter colors as you thought about your next words. You had been painting in blacks and deep reds beforehand.
"But he didn't.." you breathed out.
"He had talked to her got to have a real one on one after 7 years of just letters. He came back with a bunch of hickeys." You watched Yamamoto shake her head, "But he told me he was staying.. Hana told me one night after dinner when I was helping her with dishes that he didn't wanna leave me behind..."
Your voice became quieter "James is a good guy.. I'm glad he has Hana. She's very nurturing and sweet. She took me shopping for the first time after I was out. I needed clothes couldn't very well wear my dirty uniform everywhere I went and the social worker gave me 4 sizes too big clothes to wear.. but uh she took me to tiny unpopulated stores.. tried to make me feel comfortable..made me try on practically everything in the place though..she wanted me to figure out what I liked.. She took me to a music shop.. bought me my own guitar.. then she took me out to eat. And she talked and talked. I hadn't known what to say at the time. I was overwhelmed by it all being out being surrounded by so many people so many living breathing people all the faces. It was too much. All the people wanting answers and statements and wanting to hear what happened..." You cleared your throat, licked your lips and breathed out. You had begun to ramble recalling the day you shared with Hana and the efforts she put forth for you.
"She was there to come get me when I was taken to the Social Worker's office. I hadn't known what was going on.. they wanted to bring me back to my parents but they couldn't be found," on some bender probably, "and they were going to put me in the system. But then her and James came. I had been there a week, everyone wanted answers.. answers only I could give and I didn't know what to say then I saw them James had come through the door first his familiar face was a godsend at the time.." you smiled like you saw something she didn't.
"It quieted the chatter.." you nodded to yourself confirming your words, "Then she came in with a giant bag filled with paperwork. First thing James said to me when he got over to the chair I sat in all week was about his wife" it was clear from the twinkle in your eye you wanted her to ask.
Indulging she did, "what did James say?"
You repeated in a light hearted tone looking at the ceiling in amusement, "what did he say? He said, 'Stunning right?'..he was head over heels for her.." Yamamoto hummed in agreement you often commented on his love for Hana she noticed.
"He sat down next to me and she was the one to go into the Social Workers office; she and James became my legal guardians that day." Your expression became unreadable voice objective as you spoke about what they did for you. "They signed the paperwork saying they would look over me. They fought for my right to privacy about the matter allowing me to keep my name and face out of the public as they investigated the program, then they fought for my right to the money I earned by being in the program putting that money into my wallet instead of my parents hands. They came and protected me. James started it the first day I met him and Hana loved James, her soulmate, and so she protected me too without even knowing me. Then she took me shopping. I appreciate Hana. She looked out for me when she had no obligation to.. same for James. He stayed." You cleared your throat nodding like there was no other way to interpret it other than that you seemed done with your story as well looking over your nearly done painting for what you should add.
"Do you consider them your parents?" Your neck couldn't have snapped up faster when Yamamoto asked. You coughed awkwardly for a second then looked down. She could see you think about it. Really genuinely think about it.
"That's a big question huh.. I guess I do.. they fill that role better than my biological ones.. James taught me how to read. My father used my picture books to roll blunts.." you were trying to joke but she could tell by your eyes the way they contracted into something almost indescribable to a feeling only felt not discussed as you thought of James and Hana.
Yamamoto decided it was an answer she would learn on another day, deciding to change the subject"Do you live with them now?"
"no I don't.. They helped me find a house they had sat me down after and explained everything to me what everything ment and what my options were going forward. Since I'm going to be 18 soon we decided it'd be best for me to be on my own... They're my neighbors though they live right across from me in my complex... It's like two mini houses that sit across from each other in an enclosed area. So I'm basically living with them on my own, you know?" Each word you said seemed to dig yourself further into question as you thought about the couple that seemed to never not support you. Why
"Do you like living by yourself?" Yamamoto watched your growing thoughts form as she noticed you became more expressive as each session and week went on.
"...it's very quiet. I don't know, it's strange.. Either way if I get lonely I can just head into their house.. " Yamamoto could tell you were done, you said everything you needed to you were completely done, lost in your thoughts. As you were many times since you started seeing her.
"oh it looks like that's up for today." Yamamoto leisurely got up as she smiled lightly at you.
"Already?" You were only slightly jarred from your forming thoughts as she nodded.
Yamamoto smiled,"yes same time next week?" You nodded blindly, zipping up your coat. Only to stop abruptly.
"actually. I um I'll have to come by later I start school next week." You say resignation forming in your entire body as another thought piled onto your mountain of other thoughts.
"Alright why don't you come by after school Thursday?" Yamamoto remedied your thoughts on when your next appointment should be
You nodded as you walked out the door, "see you then" you muttered head down as Yamamoto closed the door, moving your painting to the window to dry for you to collect next time. It wasn't half bad she mused as she cleaned the mess.
You were hardly past the fences that guarded Yamamoto's office door when you bumped into someone. Knocked out of your thoughts. Alarm filled you. You needed to pay attention.
"Oh excuse me.." you took in the girl. She had familiar golden eyes black hair, and greyish white streak- she was bokuto's sister...you saw her. You saw most but not all of her. Is she okay? Why was she going to Yamamoto?
The older girl fidgeted in front of you with a hand on the back of her neck. "Hey.. um are you Y/n L/n?"
You nearly gasped "..yes I am. How do you know my name.." did she know about you and her brother? Did he see you? You didn't feel the other mark form. Could it have happened without you knowing? But when the first one came you felt it...it was a feeling you'd never forget.
"Oh! I'm Himari Bokuto.. Do you know a Kenji Ito?" You're own thoughts completely disappeared, demeanor changing instantaneously as your eyes scrunched in suspicion.
"... Why" you bit out. Only to stop when you noticed her slight flinch. Were you that scary?
"He's my soulmate." Oh.
"Ha."
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Part 3
Hope you guys liked it! This one was kinda fun it's a build up chapter :) but anyway
Summary; Soulmates were a rather new thing having only been around for under a century and with it came a gate. One that leads to an empty alternate reality of earth filled with shadow people. You were sold into a new program that sent people into the gate to gather information about it and the shadow people that inhabited it. This program was soon disbanded after 9 years when scientists figured out how to close the gate. The aftermath of the program was released to the public and you're now free to live your life. You are left wondering what to do next no one fully to turn to and 1 year left in high school according to the social worker you were left in the care of after the program. After everything dies down you will be attending Fukurōdani Academy where your soulmate is. People find their soulmates randomly there is no specific event that needs to happen for them to find theirs they only need to blink and then one day they are living their lives the next they are taken to a room that looks almost like a movie theater and on the big screen is their soulmate. It plays them moments in their soulmate's lives and they get introduced to their person surrounded by friends and family that have supported them up until that moment.
This is the story of you learning to be whole again and allow love into your life. With a man full of love to give and a cast of people who care about you and your success.
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This is very self-indulgent I don't know if anyone else would be interested in this kind of plot but this is really just for me to have fun writing. I had the idea and then all of a sudden I had 2 thousand words lol. I hope you guys like it
Grammars not my specialty and I'm not the best speller so bear with it if you find any mistakes tried to edit the best I could lol
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Chapter 1- Gentle
"You said you've seen your soulmate..could you tell me about it happening? Tell me as much as you want to." Yamamoto Shizue, your therapist, asked. You liked her. She was gentle and patient. You had met with her many times, and she slowly allowed you to build trust with her in a way you liked. She wasn't pushy but she did ask questions more often than not she'd ask you about your day or what you were thinking about. If you read any good books or have been making any music lately..
Today, however, she asked you about him—your soulmate. You had mentioned once that you had seen him. Seeing your soulmate was a big deal. It hadn't been over a century since soulmates started to exist and it was a topic many people discussed. So, you had simply commented that you had also seen it when she told you about her own soulmate and husband. You liked that she told you about her life. When you didn't feel like talking or sharing she would and that's what allowed you to share today. Clearing your throat you began to think of what to say.
"Well I it had happened at what could have been the worst moment for you to see your ultimate love.. your soulmate you know?" You were looking at her ceiling fan. She had little ornaments hanging from each blade. You had made one yourself with her. You spotted your own immediately it was circular you made it into a horned owl..you made it the day she told you about her soulmate..
"Why do you say that?" Yamamoto asked, it was a strong start to a story. She smiled as you glanced her way. You had been sitting on her couch across from her. The coffee table that separated the two couches you were, held your drink and her own was resting in her hands as she listened. Watching the gears in your head turn. It had taken her a while to read your face or maybe you were finally letting her, she didn't fully know.
"Why?" You had a ghost of a laugh escape you as you repeated her question, "Well-uh I was dying.. ha I was bleeding out leaned up against a.. I think it was a fountain? I was in some sort of old English town at the time.. I had just narrowly survived this wave of shadow-like soldiers and I was honestly inches away from death and I accepted it.. that is I guess until I was taken to that room. You've met your soulmate so you know what I'm talking about.. but I was supposed to be surrounded by family and friends as they watched me be introduced to my soulmate. But I was alone. Not even my comrades were there and they were at the time the closest I had ever been to having what could be considered a family." Your face stayed tilted up at your ornament. You looked… Well, she didn't know what you looked like. You had a hard emotion on your face. It was thoughtful and candid. You were reflecting.
"Why weren't they there?" Yamamoto breathed in a heavy breath as she listened to you, you were a good storyteller. You could paint a picture well. But the hard truth of where you had been in your life to lead you to her office was one she couldn't forget. She often wished you were only a troubled teen but you weren't, you weren't allowed that luxury and she wished it wasn't the case. Your childhood was robbed and that's why you sat across from her not as a scared child unable to process the world around them in a healthy way but as a tired soldier who experienced way more than they should have.
"Why weren't they there?" You repeated again, "Well I don't know I didn't give it much thought at the time or ever really. But I- But if I had to guess it'd be because It has to be those you consider family and friends and I well I was 16 and I thought I was completely alone at the time I mean I wasn't dying in a hospital bed from some illness with my dad and mom crying next to me I was dying at a fountain in an alternate reality to our world because my parents' all-consuming love only had room for themselves and heroin... But uh" you cleared your throat "..back to the story I had been alone sitting just as I had been at the fountain and I had basically blinked and instead of looking at bodies. I saw him..he was flying. I was completely consumed by this stranger I had never met. All I knew about him was that he was my soulmate, that dark theater-like room being the clue and the giant screen that displayed him."
Yamamoto glanced at the ornament that had your attention looking down at you. She wondered why you had a tiny smile on your face, "How was he flying?"
"Well ha- he wasn't technically flying I guess. It felt like he was like he had sprouted wings and flew but he was really jumping. His arm was cocked back and he was hitting a ball. I hadn't been around a lot of things before I was taken to 'The Gate' so I wouldn't have known what he was playing if it hadn't been for some stupid magazine I found once when I was walking through an alternate empty Tokyo.. it was a sports magazine and the page it was blown open to was a volleyball page it talked all about the different positions. At the time I found some comfort in it I thought if I wasn't here maybe I'd give volleyball a try. Could I have been any good? But when I saw him and recognized the sport he was playing with this passion I just couldn't help but be tranced you know? It was magical. I ha I thought he kinda looked like an owl. He had frosted tips, whitish grey tips, and black hair in this eccentric updo." That's why she smiled..the ornament was him. You made that thinking of him Yamamoto could only smile as well that was why you mentioned you saw him as well.
"Have you gone to see him now that you're out?" You had almost choked at her question. Yamamoto enjoyed seeing you so expressively. Normally you were rather neutral not in the way of having a dark expression but more a light indifferent one like an outside observer.
"Well, I um have been to a couple of his games. I plan to go to Fukurodani Academy where he goes when everything dies down." You had been fumbling around the conversation a lot today and it was clear that it had an effect on you, one that as it looked, you were finally letting it have but something about the way you said a couple told Yamamoto differently.
"A couple?" A gentle teasing smile played on Yamamoto's lips as you gawked at it avoiding her eyes. You drank the soda she had given you when you arrived.
"Yeah," you coughed, "setting your drink down, "a couple meaning every one I could go to since I got out. Uh, James has been taking me he uh and his wife have been taking me I think they think of me as their kid or something." you shrugged.
‘You looked rather sheepish,’ Yamamoto thought as she looked at you. Her brain however decided to let the topic of soulmates go for now you would say more if you wanted. She instead went to James you mentioned him every so often. Always a fond look in your eye as you did.
"Is that a good thing?" Your expression changed to one full of thought as you looked instead of at your ornament but instead to the tree that sat outside Yamamoto's office window. Breathing in slowly you glanced at the woman taking in her purpley-black hair and frameless glasses. She was quite pretty. Her clothes were elegant but comfortable.. you nodded, Confirming something before you spoke.
"..Well I mean. I served with James. He was in 'The Gate' for money.. his wife had cancer.. she survived.. obviously but uh he was the one who found me that day at the fountain." Your eyes fell once again to the ornament, "After I saw my soulmate I- well I fought like hell to stay alive. Which is honestly the only reason I'm here now you know? The thought of him. Seeing him, it made me feel alive and so when I was taken out of the room I watched him play volleyball and just him be himself talking to people and interacting with things. It had lit a fire in me I guess. And so when I blinked again and was right back at that fountain I pushed myself up. It hurts like a bitch- excuse my language... I was bleeding a lot. I honestly didn't even know where I was hurt at the time. But I just kept trying to get up and get out of there to somewhere that would keep me alive and then James showed up with some of the guys. And well here I am.. so yeah it is a nice thing that he's trying to take me under his wing.. he used to then as well." You trailed off at that thought it was offhanded almost summarizing a book of moments. Your eyes were far away. You weren't there anymore, you were in the field. Clearing her throat, Yamamoto tried to bring you back.
".What do you mean by that? What would he do?"
"..he uh well he used to look out for me I guess.. he was always looking out for me. I mean I was just a kid there. It was unfortunate that I was there in the first place but there had been no rules against it and my own parents needed the money that came with them giving me to 'em. So when James saw me on my first day there I was only 8 or so he made sure to take care of me. He actually gave me my first soda" you added the last comment with a small humorless laugh. The implications of not having ever had a soda until the point he gave you one, left a lot of questions for Yamamoto. But she settled on one about the story you were telling instead.
"Were you the only one that young there?" Your eyes scrunched.
"No No There had been a couple of others who were a bit older. But I had been the only one whose parents made them be there. You know? There was Aiko she was the closest to my age she was 11 she was 3 years older than me she had a brother who was really ill...he didn't make it...she uh had no parents so when he was gone she was able to leave after her contract was up...we kept in touch I see her from time to time now..but uh- there was also Kenji he was 17.. his parents disowned him... He was a real muscular guy. He was going to go to college for a sports scholarship but he had gotten into a bunch of trouble.. he really missed his parents so he joined up to hopefully make them proud of him again...he got real hurt one day... " You were gone again, eyes looking straight but through Yamamoto and to somewhere else that wasn't in the room.
"Is he alright now?"
"..he's still in the hospital.."
"Is he in a coma?"
You could only nod. Your hands clenched and you weren't sure if you'd draw blood. You were done, Yamamoto decided. She gently stood up, bringing your attention to her.
"I think that's enough for today, yes? Why don't we end here? When would you like the next appointment? Same time?" Her voice was gentle. You nodded slightly sitting up.
"..yeah that works." You clear your throat and mind of any thoughts you were having trying to avoid a spiral. And you instead finished off your drink.
"Alright then," the gentle woman smiled at you, "have you worked on any music since last time?" She asked as she walked you through the door.
"I did.. I'm almost done with the video.." This earned you a smile from the older woman as she handed you your coat.
"That's great, I'll be sure to watch it. Do you find it helping?" This made you pause as you looked at her halting your movements to settle your jacket.
"yeah.. you know I do find it's been helping." She smiled at you again at this.
"I'm glad. I will see you next week, we can talk about your music." You nodded, waving to her as you left. Looking down at your phone you noticed a text from James.
Old man: Going to the store need anything?
You smiled slightly looking up at the sky before you told him you were okay and that you'd grab something on your way home from your appointment.
It was a good thing you decided. It was nice to have someone look after you. You were not exactly sure if you considered him your dad but he was definitely a father figure you looking back on now definitely relied on at times.
As you walked down the street to a fast food chain on the way to your apartment you couldn't help but think. You always thought more about things when you left Yamamoto's office. Today however you thought about your soulmate. You had decided against telling him. Even though, after you saw him a mark formed on the inside of your wrist indicating that you did. You knew he shared the same mark and that it would be complete once he saw you. But you wanted to give him that choice.
Many people lived their entire lives never meeting their soulmate or meeting them and falling apart with them. Some couples only have one person see the other and they can choose not to go to them even then. So it wouldn't be weird for him to not choose you. As much as that thought hurts. You had resigned yourself to it. He was the light itself; his energy alone could power the entire world. You were not. You were a trained killer. A made monster. And he would see that soon enough. And so if he chose to, you would spend every single day kissing the ground he walked on or you would live in the shadows like you were doing now.
You knew you wouldn't be able to stay away from him forever so you loved him from afar. You went to every game you read every article he appeared in. He was outstanding. One of the top 5 aces in Japan. So this would be enough for you. Observing from afar. At least till he made his decision.. on his own without you selfishly trying to tear him down.
He had a bright future and you were broken. You still had to pick up the pieces and it would be his choice if he wanted to help.
Kotarou Bokuto.
He was amazing from the moment you saw him you couldn't help but love him. He was the only thing driving you to stay alive. He made you play it safe. And he has been all you could think about since. You may want him to decide for himself but it was really a selfish reason as to why, even if you tried to lie and say otherwise. You knew there was a possibility he would never see you. But you desperately wanted to avoid seeing the fear or disgust in his eyes when he learns everything you did. Everything you had to do. Everything you've become because of it.
You were only a shell right now and he deserved the entire world. So you decided to be selfish and let him choose his world and you let yourself keep your thoughts of him.
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Part 2
Let me know if you liked it, weird plot but I think it could be cool lol I'll probably keep posting parts. maybe this could be a stand-alone if I don't get any other ideas lol anyway
Summary: you were Lenny's manager could you manage anything more then a dead succulent probably not but when there's a will there's a way... you hope. There had to be cause you're absolutely in love with him and hope that maybe he could be with you.... far fetched if you were being honest but a girl can dream.
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We're you a fan? Yes, yes you were. Was it pathetic how much of one you were? Yes, yes it is. Was it creepy almost? Probably? Did you really care? Not really. You could have a crush and go to his shows and be there waiting with a grimace... it could if been a smile if you weren't so chicken...
But you were, and instead of just going up to the guy and saying he I like you I find you infuriatingly attractive and absolutely hilarious would you like to get a drink with me? You said I uh I want to be your Manger.. yep just like that.
You're such an idiot.. you had no clue about the business. Comedy..really? You were an engineering major what would you know about getting gigs you'd have to talk to people you chose engineering so you wouldn't have to.
Here you were though waiting for Lenny. The man of your dreams sorry client to finish his set having just got a call from your mother how she was able to track you down to this bar you would never know but she did. But besides the point you were waiting for Lenny to be done his set to let him know he was on fire only for the cops to come.
They loved to bust him for obscenity...and as his manager you had to try and get him out of it.
"Hey woah what are you doing he has the right to be there." You interject them before they can put hand cuffs on him stepping stright in between so he was behind you and you acted as a wall.
"Get out of the way little lady you shouldn't be in this place anyway."
"Happy we came in before you had to hear anything too unpleasant."
"Sir I think you misunderstand-"
This short conversation was long enough for Lenny to be thrown into their car as the had side stepped you entirety you were fumming after them as Lenny chuckled.
"Goddamn it! I'll see you at the station jackass!" You yelled as you flipped off the police officers in the front seats.
Pulling out a cigarette you muttered how it was just your luck to have to police show up at the one gig that could've been your chance of getting Lenny on TV. Since becoming his manager in 1954 you had first sent him to rehab for his strung out tendencies and then you has taken away any of his abilities to get any sort of drug fix that wasn't weed.
You were able to do this because for some reason he listened to you followed your words to the best of your ability. If you said refine this joke refine he did. If you said get another suit cause it looks like he only had one he got two... total.
But there you were now standing waiting for him to be released. In a very grouchy mood. Paying the bail with the money you made from the gig he was arrested from. You made sure to get the money the minute you two got there. A policy of yours.
A policy. You scoffed look at you thinking like you know a damn thing about this business. You're just persistent and sometimes you offer to fix up anything that needs fixing at the bar free of charge but did you care not really.
Was way better than that dumb office job you used to have. You were glad you saved every penny you earned before your parents cut you off cause you would've been flat broke-
"Hey! Doll! What are you a girlfriend? Or something?"
You said your next words a bit to bitterly in hindsight, "Or something"
"You his manager?" The officer who had called you little lady earlier asked. You didn't realize Lenny was skipping down the steps as you said
"Nice job officer fuck face you really connected the dots on that one" You're tone was angry.
"Hey watch it lady!" He growled at you. The lady at the front desk decided to interven lecturing you
"You'll catch no man's attention being so fowl." You noticed her signal to your unringed hand.
"Yeah? Well suck a lemon sugar putts." You say in a fake sweet tone.
"Thank god your boyfriends here get her the hell out of here before you have to bail her out" the officer who called tou doll said.
You turn to see Lenny grinning like a Cheshire cat getting to you in a few long strides and locking arms with you.
"Well be on our way" Lenny almost sung in amusement.
"Hey! Woah I'm not done!" you say breaking away from him instantly regretting the lose of contact. But your anger was too high who the hell were they to just violate free speech and then basically say you were Destin to be alone... okay maybe not that.. and maybe you need to fix your priorities abit but it all was the same to you at that moment..
"Aye! Fuck you! Fuck you! And especially Fuck you!" You grabbed there attention again as you procced to flip off officer 'doll', officer 'little lady', and that bitch receptionist in that order respectively.
Lenny laughed as he dragged you out of there. Chuckling he mumbled,"Nice job officer fuck face," shaking his head with light laughter
"More angry than I am." He mused as you two walked down the street.
"Yeah well its been a bad night." You hissed.
"Thank you for informing me I was shit tonight ill try and be shittier the next time your majesty" Lenny joked he had some ongoing bit of you being royalty or something.
"Are you kidding you were in fire tonight-" you said with a seriousness that made Lenny stop joking and look at you, "You are extremely talented and shouldn't need to 'behave yourself' to be up on that stage. That's where you belong." You said it firmly, "Don't worry I'll deal with the court stuff. You go home."
"And what will you do?"
"Go kiss ass at some club to get you to preform there... in other words my job. You get out of here you already did yours."
"Yeah, really? What? Get arrested for the hundredth time? Half those people that come there are there to see if I do or not."
"Still paying to see you which means money in your pocket... which by the way here you go.. abits gone cause bail cost money these days consider it my cut."
The bail was no were near the cut of profits you normally get but you had money and a part time job that gave you more money you didn't need it like he did. He had a kid to think about.
"Let's eat." He said. You guess he realized as he tried to give it back indirectly
"Maybe in the morning," you offered a slight smile," I have work to do."
"But you're done for the night."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"Lenny you're really good at your job but I'm better at mine. I gotta keep food on your table somehow." You say with a shrug and a whole load of fack confidence, "besides my day doesn't end till I go to sleep." You grin a real grin a grin you hide normally. You had been walking away from it so he only saw a distant one but he returned it.
"You're gonna be big Lenny Bruce! I'll make sure of it!" You yell as you cross the street a long ways away from him at that point but he still yells back
"What would I do without you princess!" He chuckles as he watches you walk away..god.. did he love you....
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First post trying to get better at building chemistry, don't honestly know how to use tumblr yet but if you can let me know? Skimmed for Grammer and spelling mistakes but honestly could have missed alot.
