020

The hours at Eddie's trailer flew by, filled with lots of kisses, jokes and breathtaking sex. It’s around noon now, you’re still in his bed and not planning on leaving it any time soon. He's right next to you, his arm around your shoulder as you're lying on his naked chest, his fingers slowly drawing some patterns on your arm, the blanket wrapped around your naked bodies as you both watch the smoke of his cigarette fade into the air of his bedroom. You sigh softly, cuddling further into his chest and closing your eyes, still bathing in the aftermath of all that great sex you had in here since coming after him last night. For the last hours, you've successfully pushed away every single thought about anyone else outside those four walls, not allowing your brain to even think of how worse you made things by sleeping with him. Multiple times. You don't wanna think about anything. All that matters, is what's happening inside his bedroom, in that little bubble you two built around you.

Eddie lazily tabs the ashes of his cigarette into an empty soda can next to his bed, pressing a soft kiss on your hair when suddenly, a sounds cuts through the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach growls. Loudly. Your eyes wide at the sound, you slowly turn your head to look at him, obviously embarrassed. Eddie’s head pops up in your sight, a grin spreading across his face. He pats your arm without saying a word, casually hands you his cigarette and moves away from your side. While sitting on the edge of his bed, he stretches his arms, muscles flexing under the skin of his back. You watch him as he finally stands up, still buttnaked, and walks through his messy bedroom. While lifting his cigarette to your lips, your glance drops down to his backside, checking out his ass as he grabs some clothes from a chair, before throwing on a faded Metallica shirt and some boxers. "What are you doing?", you finally ask, causing him to turn around to you. "Well, it's time for me to save you from starvation", he shrugs lightly and smirks at you. You raise your brows, his blanket wrapped around your bare chest and his cigarette at your lips, watching as he walks over to the door. "What?", you ask again, laughing lightly. His tall figure pauses in the doorway, looking back at you over his shoulder, "I'm making breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever's you wanna call it. I'll just hit the bathroom, then imma take care of you, okay? I probably have to warn you, though  - cooking's not exactly part of my endless list filled with numerous and very attractive skills, but I'll try my best, I promise". Eddie gives you a playful wink as he turns toward the door. "I'll be right back", he says, his tone light and teasing, "Just make yourself at home. Bathroom's right over here, use whatever you want". You hear him opening another creaky door, stepping inside and rummaging through what probably is a mirror cabinet. Then, the rippling sound of him casually taking a piss with the bathroom door still widely open. You roll your eyes at his cockiness and flick the cigarette into the soda can, chuckling at how little he cares you can hear everything. Moments later, he pokes his head back into the bedroom, his toothbrush still dangling in the corner of his mouth. "You're just minutes away from a spectacular Munson breakfast special, stay put, okay?", he mumbles, foam almost dripping from his lips as he gives you a crooked smirk. You chuckle at his cheeky confidence, a snort of amusement escaping you as you sit up, brushing the hair out of your face. You try to ignore the fact you can't remember the last time somebody made breakfast for you. Neither someone you shared a bed, nor someone you shared a home with. "Oh, and by the way", Eddie calls out muffled when heading back to the bathroom, "If you don’t wanna pop another mint, just use my toothbrush" You frown, making a face when shouting back, "Ugh, sharing a toothbrush? Really? That's just... gross". He's back in the bathroom, spitting out and rinsing his mouth, before heading back to his bedroom. You can hear the sound of his naked feet coming down the hall. He leans against the doorframe, his grin widening, confident and full of mischief. "Come on, we’ve done worse than that, haven't we? Sharing a toothbrush doesn’t even register on the list of real gross stuff. We licked each other’s private parts just this morning" he shrugs nonchalantly. "I think we’re good. Besides, it's a good toothbrush." You grimace, not quite sure if you should be disgusted or impressed. "God, you’re impossible." He laughs, giving a little shrug. "Fine, I’ll leave you to your mint if that's what you want. You know where to find them. But don’t say I didn’t offer" he chuckles and leaves again, now heading for the kitchen.

You slip out of bed, the blanket still tangled around your body as you search for something to wear. You spot your underwear next to his bedframe, quickly sliding it back up your legs while scanning the floors for your top. Your eyes land on the washed out shirt Eddie gave you the night before, and you smile. It's soft, warm, and way too big for you, the hem falling to your mid-thighs. You pull it on, feeling the fabric drape over you like a cozy blanket.  The most important parts of your body are covered, so this'll be just fine. Eddie’s cluttering in the kitchen as you carefully step into the hallway, the sounds of sizzling and clattering pans reaching your ears as you make your way to the bathroom, locking the door behind you - because at least one of you really enjoys peeing in private.

You sit on the toilet, the oversized shirt draping over your knees as you glance around Eddie’s bathroom. It’s small and cluttered, a typical setup that screams used by men, and men only. The tiles are faded, the edges of the bathtub stained slightly from years of use, hidden behind a crusty looking shower curtain. A stack of magazines teeters precariously next to the toilet - mostly music and car ones, though there’s a random comic book thrown in. You slowly raise a brow, your eyes fall on the counter by the sink, on the toothbrush Eddie left out for you, next to a can of shaving cream and a toothpaste tube that looks like it’s been squeezed within an inch of its life. The mirror cabinet above the sink is slightly crooked, like it’s been yanked open one too many times.

After finishing your business, you stand to wash your hands, the cold water jolting you from your sleepy haze. As you reach for the towel hanging nearby, you find yourself glancing at the cabinet. Don’t open it. Don’t snoop. But an impulsive urge wins over, and before you know it, you’re sliding it open. Inside, it’s about what you’d expect: a stick of deodorant, a box of band-aids, half-empty pill bottles, a bottle of cheap cologne that looks like it hasn’t been touched in years, and his after-shave, that catches your attention. It’s a plain bottle, nothing fancy, but the label is slightly worn. Unable to help yourself, you pick it up and twist the cap off, holding it to your nose. The familiar smell hits you instantly - warm, a little woodsy, slightly musky, and unmistakably Eddie. It’s the scent that clung to him every time he leaned close, teasing you and making you furious whenever you two argued with each other. The scent that lingered on his skin every time he kissed you, every time he pulled you close. You close your eyes for a second, letting it pull you into those memories, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

Then, like a bucket of cold water, the realization of what you’re doing hits you. You’re standing here, in Eddie’s bathroom, grinning like an idiot and smelling his after-shave like some kind of creep. What the hell is wrong with you? You slam the cap back on and place it back on the shelf, quickly sliding the cabinet shut, when catching your reflection in the mirror. You sigh, shaking your head at yourself. "Very low point", you mutter, half-laughing at your own ridiculousness, "Get yourself together, Sam". Then, you notice the toothbrush on the sink again, hesitating, wondering for a second about the whole hygiene thing, but eventually you decide Eddie's right, and it’s not as big of a deal. You squeeze a tiny amount of toothpaste on it and start to clean your teeth, trying not to overthink it while glancing back at your reflection. Your hair's messy, yes. And you didn't get a lot of sleep last night. But besides that, you're glowing. Literally. Maybe it's also the embarrassment of that moment you just had with his after-shave that's causing your cheeks to look a little rosy and warm, but it's also... him. He really did you good, this guy.

I can't believe I'm here, in his bathroom, using his toothbrush while he's making me breakfast. How the fuck did this happen?

Panic floods your veins as realization hits you once again, but you manage to push it away. You don't wanna deal with this. Not now. You lean down to the sink, spit out the foam and rinse your mouth, before splashing some cold water on your face.Pulling yourself away from the mirror, you run your hands through your hair one last time and step out of the bathroom, heading for the kitchen.

As you step into the room, the faint sound of sizzling eggs greets you, and the smell of breakfast fills the air. Eddie stands at the stove, focused on the pan in front of him, but the moment he hears your footsteps, his eyes glance over. The sight of you in his shirt, your bare legs peeking out from beneath it, makes his breath catch. A slow grin spreads across his face as he takes in how you’re practically drowning in the soft fabric, and something in his chest tightens with a sense of satisfaction.

Without missing a beat, you walk over to  step next to him, and before you can even get a word out, his arm instinctively wraps around your waist, pulling you into his side. You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as his other hand moves to turn the eggs in the pan - though, it seems the eggs are starting to burn as he loses focus. His lips press against your temple, then against your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You kiss him back, the warmth of his body against yours making you melt into him, his thumb gently caressing your hip while his mouth softly presses on yours. A warm chuckle rolls over his lips as the eggs begin to sizzle too loudly for him to ignore. "You're distracting me", Eddie murmurs, breaking the kiss for a second, but only enough to glance down at the pan with a slight frown. He curses under his breath, realizing the eggs are now slightly overcooked. You can't help but laugh softly."You’re really gonna make me ruin breakfast, huh?", he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as he glances down at you, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. You shrug innocently, a sly smile tugging at your lips. "Would you rather I stop distracting you?", you ask, feigning sweetness as your fingers trail lightly over his bare forearm, the teasing touch sending a visible shiver through him. Eddie’s grip on your waist tightens, his head dipping closer to yours, curls brushing your cheek. "Nope", he says without hesitation, his voice rough with certainty, "But you’re making it real hard to focus here.""Good" you whisper, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, watching as his lips twitch upward in response, "I love making things hard"Eddie rolls his eyes, laughing softly at your bad joke and resting his forehead against yours for a moment before muttering, "You’re evil, you know that?". "Evil? Because I kissed you?" you tease, your grin widening as you press closer, your lips brushing against his neck now, just under his jaw. "Because you’re making me lose my goddamn mind" he growls, his voice rough and full of frustration, but there’s no denying the adoration in his tone. He turns off the burner with one hand, the eggs now entirely forgotten, as his other hand moves to cup your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his. His lips crash into yours, firm and unrelenting, his kiss sending a wave of heat through you that has your knees nearly buckling. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his curls, pulling him even closer. Suddenly, Eddie’s hands shift to your waist, and before you can process it, he’s lifting you effortlessly and placing you on the counter beside the stove. "There", he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement, "Now you’re exactly where you wanna be - distracting me even more." You laugh softly, wrapping your naked legs around his hips as he slots himself between your knees, his hands resting on your thighs. "You’re not exactly complaining" you point out, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "I wouldn’t dare", Eddie says with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you again, softer this time but no less heated. His hands squeeze your thighs lightly, and his lips curve against yours as he pulls back just enough to murmur, "You're dangerous". "You’re the one who put me on the counter", you mumble, arching a brow when pulling back from his lips, your voice laced with playful defiance. Laugh lines form around his eyes as he chuckles, "Fair point", his grin widening as his hands slide to your hips, holding you like you might vanish if he lets go. 

The smell of burned food snaps him out of his trance, and Eddie groans dramatically, glancing over at the pan. "Shit - yeah, okay, eggs are toast" he mutters, though he doesn’t make any move to step away from you. You just smirk apologizingly. "Guess I owe you breakfast" he says with a sheepish grin, his fingers still toying with the hem of your borrowed shirt. You lean in, brushing your lips against his once more, your voice low and teasing. "Or maybe I’ll just keep distracting you". He chuckles, pulls back just slightly, his lips still hovering close to yours, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Weren’t you the one starving just minutes ago?" he teases, raising a brow as a crooked smirk tugs at his lips.  You shrug, brushing your fingers along the back of his neck and smirking up at him, "Yeah, but I think I’ve developed... different cravings".

Eddie’s hands tighten on your hips, and he lets out a low, dramatic groan, shaking his head, "You’re seriously gonna be the death of me, you know that?". "You keep saying that", you tease, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, "but I haven’t heard you complain yet. Even now that I made you burn your eggs". Eddie chuckles, his forehead falling against yours as his fingers slide under the hem of his oversized shirt you’re wearing, grazing the soft skin of your thighs. "Complain?", he mumbles, "Never. But you’re about two seconds away from me forgetting breakfast altogether." You lean a little closer. "Maybe that’s not such a bad thing," you whisper, your voice playful and inviting as you wrap your legs a little tighter around his waist, drawing him even closer. Eddie groans again, louder this time, before muttering, "Alright, that’s it", and in one fluid motion, he scoops you up off the counter. You let out a surprised laugh as he carries you toward the couch, his grin wide and mischievous. "Breakfast can wait", he rasps as he sits down, pulling you into his lap with ease, his lips finding yours again, causing you to laugh against his mouth. Warm lips move hungrily against yours as his hands grip your hips, guiding your body to press flush against him. You can't help but let out a quiet moan, your fingers tangling in his messy curls as he nips playfully at your bottom lip. The couch creaks beneath you, the heat between you two building quickly. You feel his hands slipping beneath the oversized shirt you’re wearing as you straddle him on the couch. Dark curls brush against your fingers as they rake through his hair, and his soft groans make your heart race. The smell of slightly burnt eggs hangs in the air, but neither of you care. You’re far too wrapped up in each other to notice. That is, until a door creaks open down the hall. 

"Jesus H. Christ, boy", comes a raspy voice from behind you. You freeze instantly, your breath catching in your throat as you pull away, but Eddie barely even flinches. Instead, he lets out an exasperated groan, resting his head against the back of the couch. "Morning, beloved uncle", he drawls lazily, his hands still firmly planted on your waist. You whip your head around to see Mr Munson standing in the hallway, wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, clearly just woken up. His face is a mix of mild annoyance and amusement, and the faintest smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth. "The hell is that smell? You burnin’ the damn house down, or is it just breakfast?", he quips, his voice dry as he steps further into the room, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. "Relax, old man. Just eggs. Nothing’s on fire... yet", Eddie shoots back, his tone casual and unbothered as he gently squeezes your hip. Your face burns, and you scramble to adjust the hem of Eddie’s shirt, which feels way too short now under Wayne’s amused gaze. You move, intending to get down, but his strong hands won't leave your hips, keeping you just in place in his lap, not a care in the world his uncle sees you in such a position. Mr Munson raises an eyebrow at you, then at Eddie. "Didn’t realize the couch was a multipurpose piece of furniture", he jokes, heading straight for the coffee pot on the counter. "Oh my god", you whisper embarrassed, your face heating up even more. Eddie just laughs, running a hand through his messy curls. "Relax, he’s just messing with you", he smirks, clearly thriving on your embarrassment. His uncle chuckles, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Don’t worry, kid. Not the first time I’ve walked in on something like this". He pauses, sipping his coffee with a cheeky grin. "Though, usually, it’s in Eddie’s room. What’s wrong with using that? Too small?”  You let out another embarrassed sound, burying your face in your hands. Eddie, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, leans back on the couch and grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. "Come on, don't hide. You're too cute when you're all flustered like that". You shoot him a look that’s half annoyed, half amused, and try to move off his lap again, but his hands tighten slightly, keeping you exactly where you are. "Oh, no, you’re staying right here. This is way too entertaining", he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. Mr Munson chuckles, shaking his head. "You two are somethin’ else", he says, clearly amused. He pauses for a moment, his expression growing a bit more pointed. "But seriously, why aren’t you two at school?" You clear your throat. Eddie doesn’t miss a beat, his grin widening as he shrugs lazily, "Educational break. Mental health day. You know, self-care and all that." His uncle raises an eyebrow, unimpressed but not entirely surprised. "Uh-huh", he mumbles, "And I’m guessin’ burning breakfast and making out on my couch is part of this ‘self-care’ routine?". Eddie laughs again, shrugging as he squeezes your hips gently. "It’s therapeutic. Highly recommended."  You let out another groan, hiding your face in your hands again as Mr Munson chuckles into his coffee. "Well, as long as you’re takin’ care of yourselves," he says, his tone playful but carrying a hint of dry sarcasm. "Just make sure you’re alone next time you decide to use the couch like that. Or, I dunno, maybe just keep it in your room, boy." Eddie winks at his uncle. "Noted, Wayne. Noted." You shake your head, finally daring to glance back up at the older man across the room, your face bright red. "That's so embarrassing, I'm sorry, Mr Munson"

Eddie's old man waves a dismissive hand as he settles onto one of the kitchen chairs, his coffee mug in hand. "No need to apologize, kid. Just call me Wayne. After an introduction like that, I think we’re well past the formalities," he states, the corners of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. You groan, glancing over at Eddie, who looks like he’s trying not to burst into full-blown laughter. "Eddie, stop laughing!" you scold, swatting his chest, though your voice is still muffled by your lingering embarrassment. He finally lets out a chuckle, his hands steady on your hips as he shakes his head. "Sweetheart, you’re making it worse by freaking out. He's cool. He doesn’t care, do you, Wayne?". Wayne takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling over the rim of the mug. "Care? Nah", he drawls, eyes flicking between you and Eddie with an amused glint, "I’m just glad the boy finally brought someone home who can actually put up with him. Normally, it’s these… well, let’s just say some interesting characters he sneaks straight into his bedroom". "Wayne!" Eddie groans, rolling his eyes as his cheeks flush. You glance at Eddie, raising a brow with a teasing smirk. "Oh? And here I thought I was special. Didn't you tell me how sacred that bedroom is to you?" Wayne chuckles again, ignoring Eddie’s exasperated protests. "Well, I guess you are special to him, kid. I’ve never seen him making breakfast for anyone before. That’s a first" He takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyeing Eddie knowingly. "Usually, it’s me making the coffee while he’s trying to sneak ’em out the back door". You can't help but laugh at Eddie groaning louder, dragging a hand down his face. "Alright, Wayne, we get it!", he shouts, "Thanks for that." His uncle chuckles into his coffee, clearly enjoying this way too much. You can’t help but laugh devilishly, covering your mouth as Eddie throws you a halfhearted glare. "Don’t encourage him", he mutters, though his lips twitch like he’s fighting off a grin. "Oh, I’m definitely encouraging him", you tease, leaning back into Eddie’s chest with a smirk. "This is gold. Sneaking girls out the back door? Really, Munson? That’s your style?". Wayne laughs again, shaking his head as he rinses his coffee mug in the sink. "Style? Ha. It’s more like survival. Half the time, I’ve just heard the back door slam and prayed they didn’t take the silverware with ’em". You snort from laughter. "Wayne!" Eddie groans again, his head falling back against the couch with a dramatic sigh, "Are you done yet, or are you planning to completely ruin my life this morning?" His uncle just shrugs. "Just calling it like I see it, boy. But I’ll give you this…", he gestures toward you with a tilt of his head, "she’s got more patience than any of the others. I mean, she’s still sitting here, isn’t she?". You feel Eddie’s hands tighten slightly on your waist, his thumbs brushing against your sides. "Yeah, well", Eddie mutters, his tone quieter now, "she’s not like the others." Wayne raises an eyebrow at that, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Good", he says simply, standing up from his chair, "Don’t screw it up""Thanks for the pep talk!" Eddie shoots back sarcastically, though there’s a faint pink creeping up his neck. You grin at his uncle, who's laughing again as he heads for the bathroom, pausing to glance back at you. "You’re a good one, kid. Don’t let him get away with too much, alright?". You smile and nod, "I won’t".

After his uncle disappeared into the hallway, Eddie shakes his head, his curls bouncing slightly as he groans. "I swear, that man's got a memory like a steel trap, but only for the stuff that makes me look bad", he mutters, his hands still resting securely on your waist. Dark brown eyes glance at you, his lips twitching with a sheepish smile. "For the record, those 'sneaking girls out the backdoor' times? Long over. That was… years ago, alright? But he just loves dragging it out like it happened yesterday". You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms but not moving out of his lap. "Years ago, huh? Should I believe that?" He places a hand over his heart, feigning a wounded look. "I’m a changed man, Sam. I swear. Wayne just thinks it’s hilarious to keep bringing it up." 

From down the hallway, Wayne’s voice drifts back toward the living room. "Hilarious? You mean accurate!"  "Wayne!" Eddie yells over his shoulder, his voice exasperated but with a hint of laughter in it. "It was, like, three girls! Three! And it happened years ago"."Three's generous" Wayne quips back, his tone dry. You laugh so hard you nearly double over, and Eddie glares at you, though the corner of his mouth betrays him by curling upward. "Don’t laugh! You’re supposed to be on my side", he grumbles amusedly. "Sorry, sorry," you manage to say, wiping a tear from your eye, "But this is too good" He groans, dragging his hands down his face again. "Oh, yeah, laugh it up. You’re really enjoying this, huh?"  You grin, leaning forward until your face is inches from his. "Maybe a little", you tease, your voice softening, "But hey, at least now I do feel kinda special. I mean, you didn’t exactly make breakfast for any of those backdoor girls, did you?" His smile turns crooked. "Nope", he admits, his hands sliding from your waist to the small of your back, "You’re a first, just like he said".

Your heart flutters at his words, the sincerity in his tone melting away the teasing atmosphere for just a moment. Before you can respond, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, he gives you flirty wink, murmuring a flirty, "I'd even cook you dinner for you" and drawing a soft smirk on your lips. Before you can respond to Eddie’s sweet, flirty promise, Wayne’s voice echoes from the hallway, his tone dry and amused. "Dinner, huh? Hope you like charcoal, sweetheart, ’cause that’s about all he knows how to make." You stifle a laugh, glancing at Eddie, who groans dramatically, resting his forehead against your shoulder. "Wayne, for the love of God, let me live", he grumbles, though there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Wayne reappears in the living room, a burning cigarette in his hand and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He leans casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying himself. "You know, there was this one time", he starts, pointing at Eddie with his cigarette, "when he tried to make spaghetti. Burned the noodles, burned the sauce, somehow even burned the pot. I don’t know how it’s possible to ruin every single part of a meal, but your boy here managed it." You burst out laughing, and Eddie groans again, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, come on! That was years ago! I’ve learned since then!" His uncle raises an eyebrow while taking a drag, "Oh yeah? What’d you learn, Ed? That ordering pizza is easier?". "Hey, I made scrambled eggs this morning!", Eddie defends, gesturing toward the kitchen, though the faint smell of slightly burnt eggs still lingers in the air. Wayne smirks. "Yeah, and how’s that pan lookin’ now?" You’re laughing so hard you have to cover your mouth with your hand, while Eddie throws his head back with a groan. "Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side, man"  "I am on your side", Wayne replies with mock sincerity, "I’m just warning the poor girl about what she’s getting into. She should know you’re a hazard in the kitchen." Eddie's dark brown eyes look at you, he's shaking his head, giving you a little pout, "See what I deal with? He’s been roasting me like this my whole life" Still chuckling, you reach up to ruffle his curls. "It’s okay. I’m sure your cooking isn’t that bad." Wayne snorts. "You’re kind, kid, but don’t get your hopes up." He takes another puff and turns toward his room, tossing one last comment over his shoulder. "Just make sure you keep the fire extinguisher handy if he ever tries to cook you that dinner".

As Wayne disappears into his bedroom, you glance at Eddie, who’s watching you with a sheepish grin. "So… dinner’s off the table, huh?" you tease, biting your lip to hide your smirk. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a grin. "Oh, it’s definitely still on the table. I’ll just… y’know, supervise the takeout guy extra hard."  You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you closer. "Deal."

Eddie leans against the counter, his arms crossed, watching you sip your coffee, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know", he says, his voice low and teasing, "if it weren’t for you and your distractions, those eggs would’ve been culinary perfection". You raise an eyebrow, biting back a grin as you rest your hip against the counter, feeling the warm ceramic under your fingertips. "Oh, sure. Because nothing says perfection like eggshells. I can even see them from right here", you joke, nodding over to the used pan resting in the sink next to him. His smirk falters, replaced by an exaggerated look of offense as he clutches his chest like you’ve wounded him, leaning dramatically against the counter, "Cold. Ice cold. You wound me". "Hey" you tease, setting your coffee down and crossing your arms, "at least you’re pretty, mh?" Eddie straightens up, sauntering over to you with that effortless confidence that makes your knees feel a little weak. He leans in, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. "Pretty, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, "Keep talkin’ like that, and I might just make you waffles every morning". You chuckle softly and glance up at his smirking face, "You mean, throwing them into the toaster and hoping they don't burn?" His smirk deepens, and he leans in close, his nose nearly brushing yours. "You’ve got a real smart mouth, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his hand slides to your waist, fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing. You shrug, trying to appear unfazed despite the way your heart skips a beat, "Somebody’s gotta keep you humble." Eddie chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as his other hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Don’t tempt me" he whispers, his lips hovering just over yours before closing the distance, capturing your mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. You sigh against him, your hand instinctively finding its way to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as he deepens the kiss. His other hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, almost making you drop your coffee. You can’t help but melt into him, feeling his smile on your lips while he's pulling you closer.

Then the toaster pops, startling the both of you.

Eddie groans into the kiss, breaking away just enough to glance over his shoulder, his jaw tightening in frustration. "Really?" he mutters, shooting the toaster a sharp glare.  You're leaning back as he reluctantly pulls away to grab the waffles. He fumbles with one, almost dropping it as the heat burns his fingers. "Damn it!" he exclaims, tossing the waffle onto a plate and shaking his hand dramatically. You can't help but chuckle as you watch him glare at the toaster like it’s personally offended him. "You’re really struggling here, huh?", you casually ask, causing him to turn back to you, playfully pointing his finger at you. 'You keep laughing, and I’ll eat both of these myself", he warns, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays the threat."Sure you will, chef", you tease, grabbing your plate and hopping up onto the counter to sit while you eat. Eddie watches you with that familiar mix of amusement and something softer, grabbing his own plate and leaning against the counter next to you. Eddie takes a bite of his waffle, his dark eyes flickering over to you. "So, besides gracing me with your company, what’s on your agenda today?" he asks, his tone warm but with that playful edge that makes your heart skip a beat. You shrug, poking at your waffle with your fork, "Just work. Four to eight". He hums thoughtfully, "How about you swing by the Hideout after. We’ve got a gig tonight". His voice is softer now, earnest in a way that catches you off guard. You glance up while swallowing a bite and for a moment, the world seems to quiet around you. There’s something about the way his eyes shine as he suggests you coming over, as if the idea of you in the crowd means more to him than the gig itself. You bite your lip, wanting to say yes, but reality crashes back in. You can’t help but sigh, putting your fork down.

"Eddie, I’d love to. Really, I would, but…"  He tilts his head, his grin faltering, "But what?" You hesitate, struggling to find the words. "It’s just… ", you stammer, "things- aren’t... that simple, okay?" His brows furrow as he leans closer, resting his hand on the counter beside your knee, mumbling, "What things?" You look away, your stomach twisting as you try to explain. "I mean, like - everything? Billy. Lauren. The whole mess waiting for me outside your front door. It’s not like I can just… waltz in there and pretend everything’s fine". You lift your gaze, noticing how his jaw tightens at the mention of Billy. "Hargrove", he repeats, his voice low and edged with annoyance, "What about him?" You sigh, dragging your fingers through your hair as the memory of Billy's words pop up in your head, when he told you he wouldn't mind being more than just an affair. He grew feelings for you. Just like Lauren did for Eddie. "It's just...  complicated" you answer carefully. Dark eyes lock on yours, searching for an answer you don’t want to give. "Complicated how?", he asks, his voice low, almost sharp, "I thought it was just… casual with him. A fling, nothing more". "It is -", you start, but the way his eyes narrow makes you falter.  "Doesn’t sound like it when you’re sitting here worrying about him and his delicate little feelings like he’s  whatever else to you" he snaps, stepping closer. You frown at his sudden reaction and jump down from the counter you've been sitting on. "That’s not fair", you retort, "He-", but Eddie cuts you off. "Fair?" He scoffs, running a hand through his unruly hair. "You’re worried about his feelings, but what about mine? Or do those not matter because I’m not him".You glare at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. "What the fuck? That’s not what I’m saying." His dark eyes glare fight back at you, the tension between you two growing with every word. "Then what are you saying?", he murmurs lowly, "Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re more worried about him than you are about us".

"Us?" The word escapes you before you can stop it, and the room feels like it stills. 

Something in his eyes changes. "Yeah, us", he shoots back, his voice firm, "Because, like it or not, that’s what this is turning into, right? You and me. Or am I wrong? Is this just fun for you, something to pass the time?" Your stomach twists at the vulnerability hidden beneath his anger, but your mind is spinning too fast to answer. "Eddie, I-"  He cuts you off, his voice rising. "Because for me? This isn’t just fun. This isn’t just some hookup, Sam. I mean, look at us. We're having fucking waffles in my kitchen, and those last 12 hours you spent here were the best ones I had in fucking years. And it’s killing me to stand here and watch you tiptoe around Billy Hargrove like he’s something special". "Don’t", you warn, your voice trembling now.  "Don’t what? Tell the truth? Because here’s the thing - you think Billy’s such a good guy, but I’ve seen him, heard about him. The women he strings along, the fights he picks. Hell, he’s probably with someone else when you’re not looking. And yet you’re worried about hurting him?"  "That’s enough!" you snap, "You have no idea, okay? You don't know him". "Don’t I?" Eddie challenges, stepping closer, his dark eyes blazing as he towers over you, "What, you think he cares about you? About anyone but himself? I don't think he's even capable of it." The words hit you like a slap, anger flaring in your chest. Without even thinking, you shout back, "Well, maybe he is! Because last night he told me he wants to date me, okay? That he wants something more serious".

Eddie freezes, his expression hardening as the words sink in. His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking as his hands ball into fists at his sides. For a moment, he says nothing, just stares at you like he’s trying to decide if you’re serious. "Oh", he finally says, his tone cold, "So that’s it, huh? That’s why you fucked with him again? Because he whispered some bullshit about wanting to try monogamy?" The accusation stings, cutting deep, and you take a step back, your breath hitching. You just stare at him, Your anger flaring instantly. "Oh, no. You don’t get to throw that in my face", you snap, your voice trembling with both fury and hurt, "What I did with Billy isn’t any of your goddamn business, Eddie. And don’t act like you’re some saint when you've been fucking Lauren only hours before. You're no better". His jaw tightens, and his fists clench at his sides. "Don’t try to turn this around on me", he growls, "You think I give a shit about Lauren? That’s nothing. All I wanted was to keep my mind off of you, Sam. She’s nothing compared to you, and you fucking know it". Eddie stares at you, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with a mix of anger and hurt. You take a shaky breath, opening your mouth to answer, but he's cutting you off before you even said a word. "You’re really gonna stand there and make this about Lauren now?" he spits, his voice sharp, "What do you care? You clearly didn’t care about her feelings when you kissed me back, when you-""Don’t you dare," you hiss, now you're the one cutting off, your voice trembling as you point a finger at him. "Don’t you dare act like this is all on me! You kissed me, Eddie. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even think about her". "And neither did you!" he fires back, stepping closer, his fists clenched at his sides, "You wanna stand here and act like I’m the bad guy, but you didn’t care about Lauren when you were in my bed, did you? When we fucked, kissed, slept together? Or when you came all the way here last night to come after me, instead of Billy".Your stomach twists painfully, guilt and frustration colliding in your chest. "Of course I care about her!" you snap, your voice breaking, "She’s my friend, Eddie! My roommate. We share a fucking home, we’re in a band together, for God’s sake! Do you have any idea what this will do to her if she finds out? She told me she liked you! She trusted me, and I betrayed her".Eddie runs a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "She’s not in love with me, Sam", he argues, his tone softer but no less desperate, "She thinks she likes me because I’m the guy she sees on stage, the guy who plays guitar, makes her laugh sometimes and fucked her a couple of times. That’s it. She doesn’t know me. Not like you do". "That doesn’t make it okay!" you shout, your voice raw now, "Do you know how it’ll feel for her to find out you left her for me? That you walked out of her room and right into mine? She’ll hate me, Eddie. And I can’t - I won’t do that to her".Eddie’s eyes narrow, his frustration boiling over. "So what?", he snaps, "You’re just gonna walk away? Throw this - throw us away - because you’re scared of hurting her feelings? What about me, huh? What about how I feel?" - "There is no us," you fire back, the words like a knife to your own chest. You see the flicker of hurt cross his face, but you press on, your voice trembling. "There can’t be, Eddie. Not with all of this. Not with Billy and Lauren and everything else. It’s too much. I can't handle it".

"You’re scared," he says, his voice low and accusing. "You’re fucking terrified, and instead of dealing with it, you’re running. That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re running from me, from this, because it’s easier than admitting you feel something."

Your eyes burn as tears well up, but you refuse to let them fall. "I’m not running, you idiot" you snap, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion, "I’m trying to stop this from blowing up in everyone’s faces. You don’t understand, Eddie. You don’t get what it’s like to be stuck in the middle of all this". "And whose fault is that?", he shouts, his voice echoing in the small space, "You’re the one keeping us in the middle! You’re the one holding onto all this guilt and loyalty to people who don’t give a shit about you like I do!""Enough!" you shout back, your voice cracking as the tears finally spill over. The second he sees your tears, his eyes change. He lifts his hand to touch you, but you push past him, storming down the hall and into his bedroom, your hands shaking as you look for your clothes. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t stand here and let him rip you apart like this.

"Sam", Eddie calls after you, his voice sharp and desperate, but you ignore him, throwing your jeans on his bed as your vision blurs. The bedroom door slams shut behind you, and you whirl around to find him standing there, his chest heaving, his hands clenched into fists. "Stop fucking running from me", he snaps, his voice rough and commanding. You glare at him, eyes watery with tears while angrily wiping the ones away that already made it to your face. "Running from you?" you spit, your voice trembling as you turn back to his bed, grabbing your jeans and hectically stepping into them. "You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Eddie! You think this is easy? That I can just pretend none of this matters? That they don’t matter?"You turn around to him, still wearing his shirt over your jeans. "They don’t!" he shouts, stepping closer, his eyes burning into yours, "Not the way you do! Not to me!" 

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "You fucking don’t get it. Lauren and you... this isn’t just some stupid love triangle, Eddie! It’s my life! My friendships, my home, my sanity!" - "And what about me?" he snaps, "Do I not get to be a part of that? Or am I just the guy you run to when things get too messy for you to deal with? Is that all this is to you? Just a nice distraction?""Stop it!" you shout, your voice breaking as you turn to face him fully, "Just stop, Eddie! You think I don’t care about you? You think this is easy for me? Well, it's fucking not, okay? In case you can't see that". You sniffle, face wet from your tears, glaring at him.

"Then why are you leaving?" he demands, stepping closer, his voice rising, "Why are you packing your shit and running out that door if you care so much?!" Your heart pounds in your ears, you're just shaking your head while turning to slide into your boots. With your face turned away from him, you press your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing loudly. This is killing you. He is killing you. And not in that good way. "Because I don’t know how to do this" you whisper, giving him a short look, "I don’t know how to be with you without ruining everything else". His jaw tightens, and he looks at you like he’s trying to hold himself together. "You think I give a damn about Billy? About Lauren? They don’t matter to me, Sam. None of it does. All I care about is you".  Stop it. "You don’t get it," you whisper, your voice trembling as you shake your head, "Billy will lose his mind when he finds out. He’ll come after you, Eddie. And Lauren - she’ll hate me. She trusted me, and I-"  "And you what?" he interrupts, his voice quieter now but still heavy with emotion, "You think you’re protecting them? Protecting me? You’re not. You’re just pushing me away because you’re fucking scared".  "Of course I’m scared!" you snap, your voice rising again as your anger flares, "I’m scared because every time I let someone in, it blows up in my face. I don’t want to hurt anyone, Eddie. I don’t want to hurt you" 

His expression softens for a moment, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he steps even closer. "Don't you get it?", he murmurs now, "You’re fucking hurting me right now, Sam. Don’t you see that? Every time you push me away, it hurts. Every time you act like this doesn’t matter, like we don’t matter, it kills me". You stare at him, your heart pounding, your chest tight as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, but the fear is still there, clawing at you, holding you back. After what feels like an eternity, you sigh, pulling your gaze away from him and wiping your face once more. You step back, away from him. "I can’t do this," you whisper, shaking your head as you step back, your voice breaking, "I can’t, Eddie. I’m sorry." 

His face hardens again, and he reaches out, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. "Yes, you can", he says, his voice firm and unwavering, "You just don’t want to".You wrench your arm free, glaring at him through your tears. "You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Eddie," you snap, your voice trembling, "You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle". "Then decide", he says, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "Decide if you’re gonna keep running, or if you’re finally gonna let yourself feel something real".

You stare at him, your breath hitching, the weight of his words crushing you. You want to scream, to cry, to disappear. But most of all, you want to stop feeling this way. To stop wanting him as much as you do. To stop caring.

But you can’t. And that terrifies you. 

So, you do what you always do when you're scared. You run.

"I'm sorry", you whisper once more, grabbing your jacket from his desk and walking around him. You storm out of Eddie’s room, clutching your jacket to your chest, your vision blurred with tears you’re too angry to wipe away. Your boots echo against the floor as you march down the narrow hallway, your breath shaky and uneven. Behind you, you can hear Eddie’s footsteps, heavy and hurried, following after you. "Sam, stop" he calls, his voice sharp and desperate. You don’t look back, shaking your head as you keep moving, as if putting enough distance between you and him will somehow make this easier.  "Just let me go, Eddie," you snap, your voice trembling as you push past the kitchenette and into the living room. "I’m not letting you walk out like this", he counters, his tone rising with frustration, "We’re not done talking". "There’s nothing left to say" you fire back, rounding the couch and heading for the front door. The moment your hand reaches for the doorknob, you freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Wayne standing in his open bedroom door across the room, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. He looks between you and Eddie, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.  You gulp, your fingers tightening on the cold metal knob as shame twists in your gut. The last thing you wanted was for anyone else to witness this, let alone Wayne. Then, Eddie stumbles into the living room, his face flushed with anger and hurt. His voice is tight and raw when he speaks. "So, what, this is it?" he asks, his tone laced with disbelief, "It’s over?" 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your eyes fixed back on the door as your heart pounds in your chest. "It was never anything to end, Eddie", you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "Bullshit", he snaps, his voice rising as he takes a step closer, "Don’t do that. Don’t stand there and act like this was nothing. You know it wasn’t. You know it isn’t." You squeeze your eyes shut, your free hand clutching your jacket like it’s the only thing keeping you together. "I can’t do this", you say, the words tumbling out in a shaky breath.  "Can’t or won’t?" he fires back, his voice sharp with frustration, "Because there’s a difference, Sam, and you’re smart enough to know it". You turn your head slightly, catching the hurt etched into his face. His arms hang limply at his sides, his hands twitching like he’s holding himself back from reaching for you. "Eddie, I-"  "You’re scared", he interrupts, his voice softening, though it’s still heavy with emotion. "I get it. I fucking get it, okay? But running isn’t gonna fix anything. You think it’s easier to walk away, but all you’re doing is making it worse - for both of us".You shake your head, tears welling up again as his words hit too close to home. "I don’t know how to do this", you admit, your voice cracking as the truth spills out, "I don’t know how to be what you want me to be". "I don’t want you to be anything but yourself", he says firmly, stepping closer, "I don’t care about the mess, or Billy, or Lauren, or any of it. I just… I just want you, Sam".

His words hang in the air like a weight pressing down on your chest. You glance at Wayne again, his expression softer now, almost concerned, like he’s trying to decide whether to intervene or not. The shame gnaws at you, the guilt for being here, for making this mess, for hurting everyone involved. "I’m sorry" you say again, your voice breaking as you twist the doorknob.  "Don’t go", Eddie pleads, his voice raw, like the sound of someone breaking. "Please, Sam. Just stay. Talk to me. Yell at me. Throw shit at me if you have to, but don’t fucking walk out that door".

You hesitate, your hand lingering on the door for a brief, agonizing moment. But the fear, the guilt, the weight of everything is too much to bear. 

"I’m sorry", you whisper one last time, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat. And before Eddie can stop you, you pull the door open and step out into the cool air, letting it slam shut behind you.

You’re gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turn white, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as you drive away from Forest Hills. The tears are blurring your vision, streaking hot and relentless down your face. You can barely see the road ahead, but you don’t care. You don’t dare look into the rearview mirror, not wanting to see the trailer park shrinking behind you. Not wanting to see the life you’re running from.  The farther you get, the faster the car seems to go, like you can somehow outrun the pain clawing at your chest. But it doesn’t matter how fast you go, how far you drive - the ache stays with you, digging deeper with every mile. Your breathing hitches as a sob escapes your throat, loud and broken in the silence of the car. You slam your palm against the steering wheel, the sharp sting grounding you for a fleeting second. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" you whisper to no one, your voice hoarse.  You don’t understand why it hurts so much. Why the sound of his voice pleading with you, begging you to stay, is replaying in your mind like a loop you can’t turn off. Why the image of his face - so open, so raw, so fucking vulnerable - won’t stop flashing behind your eyes. "What did he do to me?" you whisper, your voice breaking as you wipe at your face with the back of your hand, though it’s pointless. The tears just keep coming, falling faster and harder the farther you drive. 

You don’t cry like this. You don’t feel like this. Not for anyone. But Eddie? He’s undone something in you, broken through walls you didn’t even know you had. 

And it terrifies you. 

The ache in your chest grows unbearable, like your heart is being squeezed in a vice. You pull over onto the shoulder of the road, throwing the car into park as you clutch the wheel, your body trembling with sobs you can’t hold back anymore. 

You hate this. Hate how much you care. Hate how much you want him. Hate how much it hurts to leave. 

But most of all, you hate yourself for running. For being too scared to face the mess you’ve made. For being too scared to let yourself feel anything real. You lean your forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather a sharp contrast to the heat of your tears. You feel like you’re coming apart, unraveling with every passing second.  But deep down, under all the pain and fear and anger, there’s one undeniable truth that terrifies you more than anything else. 

You don’t want this to be over. 

You want him. 

And that thought alone nearly breaks you.

Your heart races as the city blurs outside your windshield, tears streaking your face. You’re barely breathing, panic clawing at your chest with every mile. You don’t even know how you ended up heading toward Family Video. Maybe because Robin’s the only person you can think of right now, someone who won’t judge you, who’ll let you cry without demanding answers you’re not ready to give. 

When you pull into the parking lot, your hands are shaking so hard you nearly miss the space. You don’t bother turning the car off right away, your forehead pressed against the steering wheel as you try to steady your gasping breaths. What am I  even doing here?But then, through tear-blurred vision, you spot her, Robin, through the shop window. She’s wearing her Family Video vest, laughing at something Steve’s saying as they work behind the counter. The sight of her, so carefree and grounded in a moment that’s so far from the chaos inside you, is enough to make your chest ache even more. 

You don’t think. You just act. 

Throwing your car door open, you stumble out and make your way to the entrance, wiping at your face in vain as tears keep falling. The bell above the door jingles as you push inside, and both Robin and Steve look up, their smiles fading the instant they see you. "Holy shit, Sam", Robin breathes, immediately dropping the tapes she was holding onto the counter. She’s at your side in seconds, gripping your arms as her wide eyes scan your face. "What happened? Are you okay?" You shake your head, unable to speak. The words catch in your throat as you gasp for air, your chest tight and heaving, the room spinning around you.  "Hey, hey, sit down", Robin says quickly, guiding you over to a bench near the window. "You’re okay, you’re okay. Just breathe, alright? Deep breaths." Steve is there too, hovering awkwardly but clearly concerned. He grabs a bottle of water from behind the counter and thrusts it toward Robin. "Here", he just says, worried eyes scanning your face as you're still trying to get a proper breath. Robin's already unscrewing the cap and handing it to you. "Sam, look at me. Look at me, okay? Take a sip, just a little one. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. I think you're having a panic attack. You hear me? You'll be okay, you hear me? Just breathe"

You follow her instructions, trembling as you try to take a sip of water, your breaths coming in shallow, stuttering gasps. It feels like your heart is about to break through your chest. Robin’s voice is steady, grounding, as she keeps murmuring reassurances. "That’s it. You’re doing great. Just keep breathing. We’re here. Nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

After a few minutes, the tightness in your chest eases just enough for you to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, I... didn’t know where else to go". Robin exchanges a glance with Steve, who looks like he’s trying to figure out how to help without freaking you out more. "You’re here now", she says firmly, her hands still on your shoulders, "That’s all that matters. You’re safe, okay?"You nod, swallowing hard as more tears fall. "It's just... I fucked up, Robs. Big time. I don't know what to do". Robin’s brow furrows, her gaze softening as she sits down next to you. "Hey, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. You don’t have to do this alone". Steve chimes in, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Yeah, seriously. We’re your friends, alright? Whatever’s going on, we’ve got you. But this feels like it's more of a women's topic, so imma leave you to it. Just call whenever you need me, okay? Take your time. Use the break room if you want some privacy, I'll take care everything out here". Robin gives Steve a grateful look as he pats your shoulder awkwardly before heading back to the counter, giving you both space. "You’ve got good timing," he adds, flashing a small smile, "no one rents movies at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday anyway".

You let out a small, tired chuckle, nodding at Robin's question if you wanna go to the back and following her with wobbly legs, feeling a little lightheaded. As the door to the break room swings shut behind you, Robin turns her full attention to you, both of you taking a seat on a small, worn down couch. Your hand nervously plays with your water bottle. "Okay", she says softly, leaning back and watching you with attentive eyes, "start from the beginning. It's been just about 24 hours since we had lunch at school together, everything seemed fine yesterday, besides the kisses with Eddie that happened during the weekend. What the fuck happened for you to skip school today and stumble in at my work in the middle of the day, having a full blown panic attack? Something happened with your father again?" You let out a shaky breath, clutching the water bottle tightly in your hands, your fingers trembling against the plastic. "No, it’s not about Scott", you murmur, your voice hoarse. "At least, not this time. It’s… it’s everything else, Robin. I don’t even know where to start." Your friend leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her expression soft but serious. "Hey, no pressure, okay? Just start wherever you can. I’m here." You swallow hard, your throat dry despite the water you’ve barely touched. "It’s Eddie", you finally admit, your voice quiet, "And Lauren. And Billy. It’s just this… this giant fucking mess, and I don’t know how to fix it". Robin’s brows knit together, her eyes narrowing slightly, waiting for you to continue.

"Yesterday evening, Billy came over. He was joking about it at lunch", you begin, noticing how she nods, remembering the scene when Billy came to your table, flirting with you, making you laugh. And she also remembers the looks you exchanged with Eddie, who sat across the cafeteria, glaring at the both of you. "So, I completely forgot because of work and everything, and when I got home, he was there, waiting for me outside. We went upstairs to... well, you know, but upstairs we heard some noise from Lauren's room. Well. Turned out it was Eddie and her, having some fun". Slowly, she raises her brow, listening attentively as you tell her about how witnessing that caught you off guard, how you went to your room with Billy to just smoke some pott because you weren't in the mood any longer. But when you get to the part about him telling you he has feelings for you, her jaw drops. Shocked, she stares at you. "Billy Hargrove said he wants to date? You?", she asks again, and you nod, groaning loudly. "That's... fucked up". "Yep", you sigh, "Especially since I don't feel the same for him. But, stupid as I am and high as I was, I decided it's a great timing to sleep with him, again. After the told me". She just huffs dramatically and gives you a long glance. "That's bad". "Oh, no", you laugh bitterly and lean back, "What now follows, is bad, Robs. Because while we did it, Eddie walked in". Her eyes wide in pure shock, a loud gasp falling from her lips as she stares at you, listening to you telling her everything about Billy's and his showoff, what he said about you, how all of this upset you so much - the guilt, the shame, everything - you hid in your bathroom, hearing them argue outside the door until Lauren kicked them out. "Wow, okay", she sighs, scratching her arm and taking the water bottle from your hand to take a desperate sip herself before handing it back to you, "That really is a lot". "Mhm", you hum, "Well, fast forward - I found myself at Eddie's. It was the middle of the night, I couldn't sleep after they both left, and somehow ended up at his home. He was still awake, and clearly frustrated from what happened and what he saw. We argued, we fought, we yelled at each other". You sigh, giving her a guilty look and adding, "And then, one thing lead to the other". "Oh, you kissed again?", Robin sighs, rolling her eyes, "Come on, guys". You glance at her, trying to say it all with your eyes, but she doesn't understand. "Well, it also involved a lot of kissing, yeah". When realization hits, Robin's jaw drops again. "You slept with him?" Slowly, you nod. "It just... happened. And it was... breathtaking, honestly. It felt so... natural to be with him. I don't know how to explain it. I stayed for the night, had sex with him again this morning, he tried to make breakfast for me, I even met his uncle who he's living with. Eddie and I, it's not just kisses anymore. He called it an us. Like, he's serious about me. About this". Blue eyes widen slightly, but she stays quiet, letting you continue.  "And I think… I think I feel the same way" you admit, the words trembling as they leave your mouth. "But I can’t. I can’t do this, Robin. Not with Lauren in the picture." Your friend sits back, crossing her arms as realization dawns on her. "Lauren", she says quietly, "She has a thing for Eddie, doesn’t she? She told you about it." You nod, guilt eating away at you. "She’s my friend, my roommate, my bandmate. She told me she likes him. And now I’m here, sneaking around with him like some kind of whore". "Hey", she squints at you, "Don't say that. This clearly bothers you, you're not sneaking around with him, not giving a fuck about her". You sigh, taking a second to have a sip of water and exhaustedly lean back against the back of the couch.

Next to you, Robin exhales slowly, as if she’s trying to process the weight of what you just unloaded. "Okay" she says, her voice steady. "So, to recap: you have feelings for Eddie, Lauren has feelings for Eddie, and Billy has feelings for you. And you’re stuck in the middle of all of it, trying not to hurt anyone, but feeling like you’re failing at it anyway". "Exactly" you choke out, your voice breaking. "Well", she mumbles, "At least that explains why you skipped school today". You let out a humorless laugh, leaning forward and burying your face in your hands. "Yeah, Robin. That’s why I didn’t show up. Because I was too busy spiraling about how I’ve ruined everything. I mean, what the hell am I doing? Lauren’s my friend. Billy’s... Billy. And Eddie? I don’t even know how to describe what Eddie is to me anymore. It’s just... so much." Robin sits quietly for a moment, her hand resting on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Okay, let’s break this down" she says finally, her voice steady. "First of all, yeah, this is messy as hell. But you’re not a monster for having feelings or for making mistakes. You’re human, Sam. And it sounds like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, trying not to hurt everyone else. But what about you? When’s the last time you thought about what you want?" You blink at her, startled by the question. "What I want doesn’t matter, Robin", you mutter, "Not when it’s going to hurt everyone else." She shakes her head firmly. "That’s bullshit, and you know it. If you don’t figure out what you want - what’s going to make you happy - you’re just going to keep running in circles, making yourself miserable in the process."

You stare at her, her words sinking in but not quite registering yet. "But Lauren... she’s my friend, and she likes Eddie. She told me how much she likes him. And Billy? If I tell him the truth, he’s going to flip. And Eddie..." You trail off, your voice breaking. "Eddie deserves someone who isn’t this much of a mess." Robin sighs, leaning back against the couch and crossing her arms. "Lauren’s a good friend, yeah. But if Eddie doesn’t feel the same way about her, then that’s not on you. That’s between them. And Billy? Look, he’s not exactly known for handling rejection gracefully, but he’s a grown-ass man. He’ll survive. As for Eddie..." She pauses, her gaze softening. "Eddie clearly likes you, Sam. And yeah, this is all a mess right now, but relationships are messy. You’ve just gotta decide if he’s worth fighting through the mess for". You let out a shaky breath, tears pooling in your eyes again. "I don’t even know if I can. Everything’s just so fucked up. I don’t want to lose Lauren, or make Billy angry, or... or hurt Eddie any more than I already have. You should've seen his face when I walked out. It was horrible. I don't ever wanna see him looking like that again". You feel how she leans forward again, her voice gentle but firm. "Sam, you should see your face right now. What happened between you two seems to be literally torturing you. You had a panic attack, after leaving him behind. You matter too, okay? Your body clearly wants to tell you something, so listen and tell me, what do you want, mh? Like, right now?"

Robin’s question hangs heavy in the air, her eyes locked on yours, waiting patiently. You hesitate, the answer tangled in the overwhelming knot of emotions inside you. "What do I want?" you repeat softly, your voice trembling as you try to untangle your own thoughts. Robin nods, leaning forward, her voice calm but insistent. "Yeah. Not tomorrow, not next week, not once you figure everything else out. Right now. What do you want, Sam? What do you need?" You take a shaky breath, your eyes falling to the water bottle in your hands. "I... I don’t want to feel like this anymore" you whisper, your voice cracking, "I don’t want to feel like I’m drowning in guilt and shame. I just want it to stop." A tear slips down your cheek, and you wipe it away quickly, frustrated by how fragile you feel.Robin reaches over, placing her hand on yours. "That’s a start", she says gently, "But what else? What do you want that doesn’t involve running away from this? What would make you feel okay again?"You close your eyes, trying to silence the noise in your head long enough to listen to your heart. Finally, you admit in a small voice, "I want... him. Oh god, Robin, I want Eddie. But I’m terrified. Of what it means, of what it’ll cost, of everything it’s going to hurt". Her gaze softens, a warm hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. "Then maybe it’s time to stop running and start figuring out how to deal with all that, one step at a time. But you can’t keep punishing yourself for wanting something real, Sam. You deserve that much".

"I don’t know how to fix this", you admit, your voice barely audible. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now", Robin says, leaning back. "But you can’t keep running from it, either. When you’re ready, you face it. And until then, I’ll be here, okay?" You nod, swallowing hard. "Okay," you whisper again, holding onto her steady presence like a lifeline.