For Eddy, it wasn't something that came out of the blue.
It was in small increments; hours of joint practices and late night rehearsals and recordings, of morning coffee runs and country-wide adventures. It was moments of being in each other's space for days on end, comfortable and easy, talking about anything and everything and sometimes nothing at all, allowing the music that's close to their hearts fill in the silence for them.
It's in the way Brett furrows his brows when he's practicing intensely on a particular piece for the violin, the way he rubs his eyes when he gets tired and sleepy after hours of practice. It's in moments when Brett laughs when Eddy cracks a dumb viola joke, head shaking with a helpless grin as Eddy throws an overused meme in his face, just to see Brett's smile last a little longer.
It's in the ways where after a grueling long concert, Brett promises they'll only explore for just a little, but he ends up dragging Eddy around the city to different boba shops and scenic night views of old water fountains and starry skies until 3 in the morning. It's in the way Brett said, "I love you Eddy," when they reached their funding goal to travel the world, sharing their passion for music and humor on stage for hundreds and thousands to see.
It's in the way Eddy's heart thrums at the sight of the familiar company he shared nearly half his life with, warm and entirely at home.
For Eddy, his friendship with Brett is irreplaceable. He can't ever risk losing something that important, whether his own stupid selfish feelings have a say in it or not.
So it's ridiculous, really, when the universe decides to consistently suckerpunch Eddy in the gut with feelings he absolutely did not ask for.