Summary: After Making A Scene And Storming Out Of Eddie's Trailer, You're Left To Wonder If You Even

Summary: After making a scene and storming out of Eddie's trailer, you're left to wonder if you even have a boyfriend anymore, since he hasn't spoken to you in three days.

a/n: congratulations. you bitches wore me down. you all know how much i HATE angst with no happy endings so enjoy me fixing it.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

word count: 3.3k

  It’d been days since the fight in Eddie’s trailer. Days.

  You were mad as hell when you’d left, so mad you almost appeared calm. You’d angrily cried on the drive back home, hot tears leaking steadily past your lashes as you scowled and you were sure they left a trail of mascara behind.

  You’d dodged your mother when you got home, unwilling to face the barrage of questions she’d  send your way that would no doubt trigger a breakdown. The last thing you needed was anyone asking if you were okay.

  Besides, you thought you’d be fine. Eddie would get the point, come to his senses and be at your front door a little past dinner to apologize for hurting your feelings.

  You’d composed yourself to the best of your ability while you ate, forking the food on your plate down with the excuse of having not had lunch when your mother started questioning you and then hurried back upstairs to your room.

  Your landline was plucked from its place on your nightstand drawer and set on your bed in front of you. When half an hour passed, you assumed Eddie was still wrestling with his pride. When half an hour turned into an hour and a half, you started wondering if maybe he was still cooling down from the argument. He’d call.

  By 2 a.m., the tears were back and speeding effortlessly from the corners of your eyes, down the bridge of your nose to meet your pillowcase as you realized he wasn’t going to call.

  He didn’t call the next day, either. Or the day after that. 

  The two of you weren’t in school anymore, so you couldn’t track him down in the halls but you didn’t want to go find him. You wanted him to come find you, you wanted him to chase after you when you left his trailer, you wanted him to call you and tell you he loved you and you wanted him to not bring girls who wanted him the way you did over to his trailer. 

  You wanted Eddie. But you wouldn’t go crawling back, your heart may have been wailing in agony but your pride was howling at you, wounded and bleeding.

  Were you broken up? You hadn’t intended for your exit to be the end, but by day three, you were starting to get the feeling it was over.

  And despite how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t rot in bed. You had responsibilities, a job. You’d called into the arcade the first two days but you couldn’t put it off forever, couldn’t avoid leaving your house because you feared running into Eddie.

  Yes, you were desperate to see him, but under your specific conditions. What if you ran into him and he confirmed the two of you were over? What if he was with that girl you’d seen leaving the trailer? He said he’d given her a deal for flirting with him, had it progressed? Was he rebounding?

  The more you thought about it, the more sad you got. Samantha Stone, your former lab partner and current co-worker had stepped in to awkwardly comfort you when you kept dipping into the back room to cry and eventually sent you home with the promise she could handle the riveting crowd of three plaguing the arcade.

  You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown your bag onto the floor the moment you got into your room, but you hadn’t changed, just fell face first onto your bed as your tears mingled with your comforter.

  And that’s how you found yourself thinking about how long it had been since that damn fight. Maybe you were overreacting. Sure, Eddie had been a little intimidating in high school, but he’d also had no trouble in the romance department. He’d told you he’d been cynical about it, since it never went beyond sex, but he’d also said that had been before you had looked twice at him. 

  Unfortunately for you, the stupid ass curse that comes with having a boyfriend struck you. Now that Eddie had a girlfriend, all of a sudden he was a wanted man, even more so than he had been in the past.

  You’d seen girls overstep, had been waiting for him in the van during a deal while you watched one reach a hand out to caress his arm and it had taken everything in you to not storm out of the van to tear the offending appendage off and beat her silly with it.

  Maybe you really were just blowing things out of proportion because of your jealousy. Maybe you owed Eddie the apology. Would he even accept your apology? It had been days, after all. Maybe he’d take you back if you groveled. Tears were a no brainer, you were pretty emotional and aware you were in a somewhat manic state, so they’d come the moment you caught sight of him again. Your feelings, your love for him, and this stupid mess would overwhelm you.

  You glanced at your phone, still poised on your bed and taunting you without a single ring. Your mother would have mentioned it if he called. He hadn’t.

  You wanted Eddie.

  That singular sentence plagued you, wrapping around your heart over and over again, constricting like a boa until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were about to have a heart attack. You could hear the loud and insistent banging that was your heartbeat, beating in time with your much too fast breaths.

  Eddie was the last thing you thought of before you shut down, body allowing exhaustion to overcome you to stop your impending panic attack.

  You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, eyes prying open to your room shrouded in darkness. A lazy glance at the window confirmed night had fallen and you sagged further into your bedding, sighing when you remembered you’d fallen asleep in your work uniform which meant you couldn’t slip back under the veil of rest and peace until you’d gotten out of it.

  You sat up, fingers gripping onto the hem of your shirt to lift it. 

  A flash of movement at the foot of your bed caught your attention just before you raised your shirt over your head and you nearly had a heart attack as you fell back, quickly reaching for your lamp.

  The warm glow of it illuminated the room and revealed Eddie standing near the foot of your bed, hands up to show he meant no harm.

  “Sorry,” he gave a brief huff of laughter, mouth pulled into a nervous smile, “didn’t mean to scare you. Your mom let me in.”

  Your heart calmed instantly at the sight of him, but your anxiety made its presence known, sinking into your belly.

  He’s here to break up with you, it whispered.

  You pulled your shirt back down, smoothing it out to give you something to do. Suddenly, you were incapable of words, nonverbal as your mouth refused to part. Your heart had won the battle with your pride and was desperate to beg him to forgive you for overreacting, would say anything to get him to hold you but you were paralyzed.

  Eddie cleared his throat, a hand reaching up to scratch his head before he sat down on the edge of your bed and you took him in.

  The most apparent difference in his appearance was the dullness of his eyes and the bags under them. Eddie was usually so full of life, an eccentric being buzzing with a sort of energy at all times, even when he was pretending to be the cool, collected bad boy. Now, he looked tired. And he had a light dusting of scruff on his jaw and cheeks.

  Eddie never had facial hair. Hated it. He’d tried it out once, he wasn’t fond of not being able to feel your kisses directly against his skin, and it made him itchy so it didn't last long.

  He shaved everyday to make sure he could feel your lips on him and the reminder made tears pool at your waterline once more.

  “Look, I─”

  “I’m sorry!” You rushed out, cutting him off as emotion muddled your voice and made your throat thick with it. The tears followed, just as you’d predicted they would when confronted by Eddie, “I’m so sorry, you were right, I was overreacting! I was just jealous, you can bring whoever you want to your trailer, I know it’s just business. I was just stupid and jealous and upset, you were right to not call me, and I’m sorry!”

  Eddie’s mouth parted, eyebrows rising in bewilderment.

  Then he was kicking off his shoes and climbing onto your bed, softly hushing you as he pulled you into his arms and you sobbed against his shirt, relieved to finally have Eddie back.

  You hadn’t thought he’d ever hold you again so you clung to him like a lifeline.

  Eddie held you tight, hand rubbing comfortingly over your back as he pressed kiss after kiss to your head and nuzzled his face there, trying to make sense of what was happening.

  After you’d left, he’d trashed his room. Well, more so than its usual state. He’d wanted you to come right back after you stormed out, was hoping you would—but like an idiot, Eddie just stared at the door as his mind replayed the entire conversation, emphasizing the moment he’d crossed the line. By the time he finally snapped out of his stupor and ran out after you, you were gone.

  Eddie was frustrated with himself, so he took it out on his room. When that was done, he’d grabbed a beer from the fridge, a joint from his stash and got crossed on the couch out front as he thought about the fight.

  He had no interest in anyone who wasn’t you. None. And for some reason, you didn’t understand just how much he loved you, how not a singular fucking person on this giant rock could compare to you. Not Cindy Crawford, not Pam Grier, not Irene Cara, not a single member of Metallica, no one.

  You were Eddie’s favorite person. You were his person.

  And he made you feel like shit. The longer he thought about it, the guiltier he felt. It was easy to write off your behavior as jealousy, but your jealousy hadn’t been unwarranted.

  He couldn’t see the big deal about having her pick up weed from his place since she’d phoned to let him know she was already in the area, but when he imagined some random guy coming out of your home, you walking him out?

  Eddie saw red. The thought alone knocked the air out of him and it was a feeling he was keen to not experience.

  But you had. And instead of just owning up to his slip of the mind, he’d stuck to his guns and had promptly shot himself in the metaphorical foot, not before hurting you. You were upset, and you lashed out when you got like that. Eddie had realized a long time ago that you only made digs like that because you wanted him to tell you you were wrong without having to ask him.

  Only, Eddie hadn’t told you that no, he didn’t give her a deal for being ‘pretty and flirty’ as you’d accused. She had been flirty—yes, he felt even more guilty when he thought about it—but he’d been blunt and brief, exchanging the bag of nugs for cash before he was sending her back the way she came. You’d just been on the other side of the door when he’d opened it for her to leave.

  It looked fucking terrible. How the hell was he supposed to make this up to you??? He’d spent the remainder of the night lingering near the phone, picking it up and then putting it back on the receiver. Nothing he could think of was a worthy enough apology for you, and he assumed you didn’t even want to see him. Fuck, you’d been so upset.

  He ended up passing out on the couch.

  The next few days went the same, he tried to figure out what to say, how to to explain himself and dove for the phone anytime it rang. It was never you, but of course it was when Eddie was desperate to hear your voice on the other end of the line that all his usual customers had run out of weed and other things.

  And she had called. 

  Eddie wasn’t stupid, she’d smoked with him and a group of friends at a party once, she hacked up her lungs and coughed herself into delirium after one pull; there was no way she’d finished what Eddie had supplied to her that quickly. It certainly didn’t help that she knew Eddie had you, and she still kept up the flirting. You were right, Eddie knew what she was trying to do and he was a shit boyfriend for not turning her down outright. Eddie had nipped that problem in the bud over the phone.

  In his desperation, he’d done multiple drives by the arcade, too. You were never behind the counter, only that gothic chick that liked to curse people was.

  He got anxious fast, hoping like hell that you hadn’t broken up with him. When it became too much for Eddie, who missed seeing your beautiful face, he caved in and drove to your house, despite the fact that you might not want to see him. When your mom let him in instead of throwing pots and pans at him like he’d imagined she would, Eddie figured you hadn’t told her about the fight which gave him hope.

  Maybe you did still want him.

  There was no light under your bedroom door and when he knocked you hadn’t answered but Eddie walked in anyways, heart clenching at the sight of you sprawled on your bed asleep.

  God, how he’d missed you.

  Eddie found himself blinking back tears as he stared down at you. It was selfish of him, but he really wanted to wake you up, touch you, hold you, kiss you.

  And then he realized he was at your house uninvited, in your room, watching you while you slept. Could he get any fucking creepier? Jesus…

  Eddie had been in the middle of pacing a circle in your carpet, trying to play out how this conversation would go when you stirred and he froze.

  Then you sat up and he got a little excited when you started taking your shirt off, but Eddie was aware of how bad this could go if he didn’t announce his presence.

  You hadn’t started yelling at him like he expected, no. What you did was worse. You were apologizing. 

  He’d been inconsiderate, he’d put himself in a situation that would look bad to literally anyone who saw him knowing he was in a relationship, had hurt your feelings—even more so because you’d apparently been waiting for him, wanting him this whole time and he’d just been holed up in the trailer, phone in hand but never dialing. 

  “Baby,” he mumbled against your head, leaning back and moving his hands to frame your face, thumbs wiping your tears away as he angled your head up at him so you could see the sincerity on his face, in his eyes, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”

  You hiccuped and started, “But I─”

  “Shh, no. Let me say this okay?” Eddie waited for you to nod and when you did, he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead and another to the tip of your nose.

  “You didn't overreact or do anything wrong, sweetheart. You were right. I knew exactly how she felt, and while I promise you I had no intentions of letting anything happen, I still shouldn’t have had her over. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve been jealous, mad, and really hurt. She called, tried to come over again and I told her I’m in love with you and I’m not interested in her. If she needs to replenish her supply, she’ll have to get it from Rick from now on. And I’ve never given her a deal. The only person who gets free weed is you, pretty girl.”

  You sniffled and his thumb stroked over your cheek once more. He added, “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to, so badly, but I didn’t know what to say or if you even wanted me to. I've been dying to see you, drove past the arcade a ton of times just to see if I could get a glimpse of you—your coworker, the scary one, flipped me the bird whenever she saw me, by the way.”

  That got a laugh out of you and Eddie grinned victoriously, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, “I love you. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.” Your gaze dropped from his eyes, the brown in them now swirling with warmth, to his lips, “Can I kiss you?”

  “Oh, baby. You don’t ever have to ask.” Eddie didn’t wait for you to make the first move, closing the small distance to press a deep, chaste kiss to your lips. Once you were returning his kiss, he got a little more insistent, you realized this was Eddie’s way of asking for reassurance and you were more than willing to give it to him, parting your lips so your tongues could meet again.

  The two of you made out on your bed at a leisurely pace as you reaffirmed your love for each other. When things got heated, and you soon found yourself on your back with Eddie on top of you and between your legs, he pulled away from your mouth with a smack, and winced.

  “I really want to have makeup sex, baby, but I’m about to pass out. I haven’t been sleeping well.” Rarely has Eddie slept without you, add in you being upset with him and he could barely sleep at all. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out while he was inside you and leave you unsatisfied. 

  You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss, “That's okay. We can fuck in the morning.”

  Eddie let out the most pornographic moan at the mental image and you laughed again as you shushed him, “Eddie! My mom will hear you!”

  Reluctantly he rolled off you to undress, yanking off his pants while you shimmied out of yours, pulled your shirt off and discarded your bra. When Eddie yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it towards the ground, you’d intercepted it and pulled it over your own head.

  Eddie gave you a very appreciative onceover before he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his hard-on away, “Down, boy.”

  You snuggled up to his side, and he pulled you into his arms, throwing your blanket over the both of you and letting out a sigh of content as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “Fuck, I missed this. Missed you.”

  “Missed you, too, Eds.”

  “Next time you get mad at me, I’m sitting on the hood of your car so you can’t leave.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “Or maybe you can just kick my ass instead of leaving.”

  “No, I like it too much.”

  Eddie’s chest shook with quiet laughter and you smiled, eyes fluttering shut. 

  This time, when sleep finally overcame you, your heart wasn’t in pain or beating loudly in your ears. It was nestled against you, and snoring into your hair.