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1993. Hawkins, Indiana.
“Eddie… where are we going?”
“Princess - it wounds me that you don’t trust me enough to take care of you. I promised you an adventure, let me give it to you.”
Letting out a soft huff and unable to resist the pull of a small smirk to your lips, you cross your arms, and settle deeper into the passengers seat of Eddie’s old beat up van. You loved this rust bucket just as much as he did. Hell, you were there with him when he bought it; a 1971 Chevrolet. The medium green (more of a grass in your opinion), and white paint job reminded you of some stupid sitcom from the 70’s that your parents still watched the reruns. The passenger side mirror had a dangerously precarious crack that you were worried one heavy slam would split the glass completely into two halves. You were almost positive that the overwhelming smell of lilacs would never leave the fabric. Now it was drowned out by the strong scent of nicotine and the faint scent of weed. Eddie always thought that his black, metal lunch box hid the smell, and for the most part it did its job, but sometimes a rogue bud escaped the plastic wrapping and ended up beneath the drivers seat.
It wasn’t anything special, but to Eddie, oh to your best friend, it was. It wasn’t his first taste of freedom, but it was a catalyst to the untouchable horizon.
Ever since he was a kid, Eddie had more freedom than most. With his mother’s unfortunate passing when he was five, and his father’s seven-to-ten year jail sentence, seven year old Eddie wasn’t being looked after by anyone. It wasn’t until he had to move in with his Uncle Wayne in Forest Hills, that things seemed to settle into a normalcy for the young boy.
This led to the fateful day that young Eddie Munson, ran into you. Quite literally. You had your eyes on the ground, counting number by number as you jumped square by square. Your high ponytail bounced with each jump as you made your way back and forth over the poorly drawn hopscotch in the grass. You were so busy staring, trying to read the numbers that you didn’t see the metal can soaring through the air and hitting you right into the back of your head.
You should have cried. The tin can had quite the velocity, but you didn’t. You picked up the invasive object, stared at the boy, and chucked it back in his direction. You got in trouble for it, of course, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Because that day, you gained a best friend. The best friend that a seven year old could have ever asked for. It was strange to think that a little tin can could have introduced you to the best thing that ever happened to you.
The two of you were thick as thieves growing up. You had sleepovers every Friday night, where you attempted to stay up in either your bedroom or Eddie’s, talking away but never being able to actually make it past eleven. You spent hours between your trailers, pretending you were dragons, and damsels in distress - you definitely made sure to play the dragon, or the knight as much as possible. You weren’t some damsel, and Eddie knew that.
It wasn’t until it was his ninth birthday that gave him the best birthday present, the present that would change his life and help carve out the nerd that you knew and loved so deeply to this day. You gifted him his very first Dungeons and Dragons book. It came out that year, and you knew he’d been so excited to get it. Money was tight; Wayne was working long hours to keep the lights on, keep the trailer cool in the summer, warm in the winter, and food in the fridge, Eddie had never mentioned it to his uncle, but he mentioned it to you. You saved up for months with your weekly allowance, but when his birthday came you were still short. Your parents loved Eddie as if he were one of their own, so they covered the last little bit and helped you get the dark wood-grained box.
A new excitement caused his eyes to glitter when he bought his beautiful, red and black B.C. Rich Warlock. It was like the second that lava-looking beast entered his life, he was complete. He called her his Sweetheart. You hadn’t seen his eyes light up with so much excitement like that in your life.
Of course, there was a little glint in Eddie Munson’s eyes - not too dissimilar to the one when he got his prized possessions - as he put his black and white skull bandana around your eyes. It screamed mischief, trouble, and though you knew that part of you should be a little bit worried at the grin that had crossed his beautiful features, you trusted Eddie with your entire life. He was your best friend, and soulmate. You knew he wouldn’t put you in any position that you wouldn’t want to be in.
When you told Eddie that you hadn’t been on any type of adventure, he first looked like you stabbed him in the heart. He was appalled and hurt that you wouldn’t consider your daily routines an adventure. He placed his hand on his heart, letting out a shocked gasp, shouting “My heart! It’s broken!” You giggled and shoved at his shoulder with a scoff and a roll of your eyes before a grin broke out on his face. He knew you didn’t consider the daily routines of school, guitar practice and movie nights with him an adventure, even though they were things you both held close to your hearts and promised you that he was going to take you on the best adventure of your life.
That was how you ended up here in his passenger seat; your fingers drummed softly on the plastic interior door, matching the beat of Metallica’s Master of Puppets. You could hear his hands banging against the steering wheel to the guitar solo, his metal rings clinking against one another each time his flesh collided with the leather. You rolled the window all the way down, your nose catching the scent of Summer slowly inching its way toward Fall. The breeze was cool as it brushed the bits of your face that weren’t obscured by the cloth.
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, remembering how for practically three weeks straight he worked on learning this song. You sat on his bed, with whatever book you were reading at the time in your lap as he listened to the song over and over. His ear picked up on each note, each beautiful string, and he copied it as if he was a member himself. You had to admit, it was quite the talent. You’d never say it to his face, because he would never let you live it down; but Eddie Munson was a guitar God.
You told him once that if he just thought of school like the music he loved so dearly that he might be able to focus on his work well enough to finally graduate. You had no idea that your advice actually hit home, and Eddie Munson was able to finish Ms O’Donnell’s class with a C and graduate. He walked across that wooden stage, his green cap and gown completely swallowing his thin frame. You stood with his beloved flock - the entirety of the Hellfire Club - your hands cupping your mouth as you celebrated in the crowd. Your grin was wide, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were so proud of him.
For the past couple of weeks, Eddie had worked on another song. For a while, you thought maybe he’d been working on writing something for Corroded Coffin, but he wouldn’t let you anywhere near his trailer when he practiced. Which, admittedly at first, wounded you, but it was Eddie. You were sure that once he was ready for you to hear it, he wouldn’t hesitate.
“Eddie, seriously, where the hell are we going?” You shouted, having to raise your voice over the sound of both Eddie pounding his fingers against the steering wheel, and the guitar riff currently pouring from the speakers.
The music was turned down, and you felt a heat placing itself on your denim covered thigh. You could feel the bits of his skin peaking through the rips in the black fabric, and couldn’t help the slight shiver run up your spine. It was a good shiver, a very good shiver.
“Patience, princess. It’s a virtue, you know.”
His voice was like molasses, thick and warm that coated your insides in a specific warmth, while just a simple touch set your outsides on fire, like a forgotten cigarette.
Eddie Munson had no idea what his presence did to you, and for that you were both eternally grateful, and a little bit disappointed.
The times where the two of you were curled up in his trailer, while Wayne worked for the night, a blue ceramic bowl full of buttery popcorn placed in your lap, your legs nestled in his lap - he wouldn’t let them go anywhere else. He would place his palm around your ankle and give it a squeeze, a slight massage, or work his way up your calves. All the while his eyes were glued to the movie in front of you, but your heart would always beat painfully against your chest, your breath always short.
A squeeze to your thigh brought you back to the present again and you had to resist the urge to reach down, to link your fingers together.
“We’re here.”
You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement run through you as you felt the van pull to a stop. Your hand blindly reached for the handle of the van, aiming to let yourself out but you heard Eddie scramble out of the drivers side, and could only imagine him racing around the hood of the vehicle. You were right on your assumption when the door was opened for you. Warm hands donned with the contrast of four cool, metal rings closed around your wrists to help you out.
You were slightly unsteady on your feet, but you felt the same set of hands move to grip you by the waist, “Steady, princess. I got you.”
Licking your lips, your hands went to his shoulders to hold yourself steady. The denim was rough beneath your fingers as they curled. “You gonna tell me where we are yet?”
His chuckle was a warm burst of air across your face. You could smell a hint of the minty toothpaste he used this morning as it battled to overpower the smell of his most recent cigarette. Your body was gently positioned and moved. It was if you were a doll being moved from place to place. He reached behind you, the van door closing with a soft slam, “You are the most impatient woman I’ve ever met.”
Though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the grin in his voice, and you couldn’t help but match it. “Yeah, but you love me, Munson.”
“Shh!” His hand immediately covered your mouth, ”Don’t be so loud! You might just ruin my reputation as the town Freak.”
You snorted behind his palm. Your tongue poked out to lick at it, and you snickered as he pulled it away with a scoff, “You can just pretend that you put me under some sort of Satanic spell or something.”
“That may work, but there is some logic missing in your explanation, princess.” You felt him guide you as if he were a Border Collie herding sheep toward a gate, toward whatever surprise he planned. “You’re labelled as the Queen of Hellfire. No one is going to believe that I was the one to convert you. Pretty sure people believe that you’re secretly the culprit to my downward spiral into devil worshiping.”
Your hand shot out to shove at his shoulder, but you completely missed as he dodged it. You stumbled, being ever so clumsy even when you could see, which caused him to chuckle. “You’re just doing this for fun, aren’t you? You’re enjoying my pain.”
“Now that, I will admit that I am eternally guilty of.” He started, his hands an ever calming, anchoring presence on your shoulders as he led you. “But I will admit that making you smile is also a guilty pleasure of mine.” Your body jolted to a sudden stop, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as you could only imagine you’d made it to the surprise.
“Eddie…” you trailed off. Your hand blindly reached for him, your fingers closing in around the bits of leather that peeked out from beneath his denim vest. You wanted to tell him that he always made you smile, he didn’t have to go out of his way to do it. But you were silenced once more, this time with a finger to your lips instead of a hand. He gently pried your fingers from the leather and moved it forward until it grasped a cylinder style door handle.
With his hand surrounding yours, he used the grip supplied by both of your palms to pull the door open to the sound of whooshing air. You were immediately hit with a wave of scents; nacho cheese, stale beer, and some kind of disinfectant. There was the sound of dull rock music, multiple clunks echoing through the room, followed by what sounded like the roll of thunder. Your lips parted, before a grin broke out on your face. Your dark purple polished nails yanked the well-loved bandana from your eyes as you spun to face your favourite metal head.
“Eddie!” You squealed out. “Lucky Strikes?!”
Lucky Strikes was the newest edition to Hawkins, Indiana. It moved into the most recent vacant spot, just under a block away from The Palace; the arcade where you, and Eddie would take his little flock of sheep sometimes after a good campaign to wind down. It joined the towns roster shortly before Eddie had graduated, and you both had meant to check it out, but time never seemed to line up. Plus, you had no idea how much renting a lane, and shoes would actually cost, not to mention the food that Eddie was more than likely going to put away like a garbage disposal.
Eddie’s face was bright. His dark button like eyes resembled the stars sparkling in the night sky. He stood a few feet away from you, his arms spread wide to either side of him, as if presenting the bowling alley to you. “Surprise, princess. I know that you’ve been wanting to come by - sorry that it’s taken so lo-“
His voice was cut off by the force of your body slamming into his at full speed. The air was forced from his lungs, and it took him just a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around you in return. “Well, I expected some kind of thank you, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Not that I’m complaining.”
Pulling away, your hands moved up to cup his cheeks. They were warm beneath your palms, his eyes glassy and his smile wide, “Eddie Munson, you are a God damn genius.”
“Ooh, taking the Lord’s name in vain - you sure you’re not the one that’s corrupting me?”
Quirking your brow at him, you backed up a little bit and decided to pull the same pose that he loved to pull on everyone else. You lifted your hands up to the sides of your head, pointer fingers up and your tongue slid out from between your lips.
Eddie just grinned, “That’s my girl.” He pulled away, extended his hand out to his side and bowed in your general direction, “After you, your highness.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” Doing a little bit of a curtsey yourself, followed by that weird movement you do when you’re trying to shuffle past someone in the grocery store - so that you’re not in the way - you made your way further into the bowling alley. You could feel your body vibrating, and knew that you had a bit of a pep in your step, an excitement at doing something new.
Skipping further into the bowling alley with your hands clasped behind your back, you made your way up to the counter with your best friend in toe. Eddie bumped into you as he splayed his arms across the counter, taking up as much space as he could. His distinct scent, the Eddie scent, filled your senses. It drowned out the smell of stale beer and greasy nachos. What you could smell was faint smoke, leather, weed, cedar and the eucalyptus leaf scented shampoo that he used. It was so much, and yet not enough at the same time. His scent always made you feel like you were at home, like a blanket on a cold winters night.
You let out a gasp as a head popped up from behind the counter, both you and Eddie recoiling at the sudden intrusion. “Keith?” You blinked, staring at the man. “I thought you were working at Family Video?”
Keith, who always reminded you of a sloth in human form, leaned forward on the counter, invading what little space you and Eddie had left. He had a Twizzler pinched between his teeth as he eyed the two of you, before yanking on it and chewing what little bit was left in his mouth. His hand, still holding the red liquorice, pointed with the candy in your direction. “I am,” he replied through a mouth full of the candy.
You waited for him to continue with the conversation, but he didn’t. “O-kay…” You drawled out the word, glancing at Eddie out of the corner of your eye.
Before the awkward sentence could be drawn out longer than necessary, Eddie smacked his hands on the counter, still spread out, and gave Keith his award-winning smile. “We would like to rent a lane, and two pairs of shoes, if you would be so kind.”
Nodding, Keith typed in the prices for the lane - which according to the board was rented per hour - and the shoes, and mumbled out the total. Simultaneously, you and Eddie both reached for your wallets to pull out cash.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Eddie asked, blinking in your direction.
“Eddie, this isn’t exactly cheap - let me pay for my half.”
“Uh, that’s a big no, princess. This was my idea, I’m not going to have you pay for it.”
Glaring at him, your eyes narrowed as your fingers stealthily reached into the pocket of your wallet.You hoped you snatched the right amount of cash. Before you could slam it on the table, Eddie scooped you up around the waist, spun you around, and deposited you so that he was between the counter and your body. He spun himself back around, and quickly slapped the cash onto the counter, and a little extra so that he wouldn’t have to stick around and wait for Keith to give him his change. His arm made its way around your shoulders, leading you away from the counter and toward the shoe racks.
“You two are on lane five!” Keith called out to them, to which Eddie lifted his arm and waved backwards, letting Keith know that he was heard.
“You’re un-fucking-believable, Munson.” You mumbled, stuffing the wallet back into your back pocket, the chain attached to your jean belt loop. Just to make sure that it was secure in case someone decided to steal it. The wallet and chain had been a gift from Eddie for Christmas, when you had lost yours, thinking it had been secure in your pocket.
Eddie chuckled into your hair, pressing his lips to your temple, “Learn to let someone spoil you for once.” He teased, releasing you so that the both of you could search for a pair of the smelly, leather and rubber soles.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to smirk to yourself as he made a face once he located his size. Clearly, the shoes weren’t satisfactory. Then again, neither were yours. It made sense. When were bowling shoes supposed to look fashionable?
Sitting yourself across from your best friend, on one of the poorly cushioned plastic chairs, you continued to sneak glances up at him as you slipped loose the shoelaces on your black Converse. You pulled the offending leather shoe on, trying to forget that many other people wore this exact pair of shoes. At least everyone had to wear socks. Placing your hands on your knees, you used the leverage to push yourself up before sauntering over to the counter. With a smile to Keith you grabbed a pencil and piece of paper, you made your way back to Eddie, waving the objects in the air.
Eddie shot up, snatching the pen and paper from your hand and smacking it gently against your forehead. “Do you want to start, or shall I?”
“Flip a coin?” You asked, reaching into your back pocket once again to pull out your wallet. You searched for a reasonably sized coin in case you dropped it. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
Nodding, you flipped the coin in the air, watching as it went end over end until you frantically tried to catch it. You wanted to do the cool thing where one caught it and put it on the back of their hand before the final reveal. But you missed it. You waited to hear the sound of it clinking on the polished floor beneath your feet, but Eddie seemed to have caught it just in time. He smacked it against the back of his hand, before revealing it.
Tails.
“Ha!” You grinned, tapping his nose. “Get ready to get absolutely schooled, Munson. I’m going to bowl you into the ground.”
“Absolutely school… bowl me into the ground?” Eddie scoffed, sliding into his seat. His arms spread on the backs of the chairs, his legs spreading as well as he eyed you from his spot. “Princess, I think that’s probably one of the lamest things I have ever heard you say. I think I’m going to have to revoke your Queen of Hellfire status.”
Plucking up one of the heavier balls made for a ten pin, you slipped your three fingers inside of it. You flipped Eddie the bird with your free hand. Satisfied with his laughter, you grasped the heavy bowling ball to help your three tiny little fingers with the weight. “Come on,” you murmured to yourself. “You can do this.”
Moving toward the line, you took in a deep breath and lowered your body. Pulling your arm back, you released the ball from your grip as you swung it forward. You let it go, your three fingers slipped from the holes and the bowling ball soared through the air for a moment, before crashing into the wood, it careening down the alley toward the pins.
Tilting your head, you did a tiny little shimmy, trying to magically pull the ball toward the middle, instead of the right where it was heading. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let out a soft sigh when only one pin fell.
“Going to school me, huh?” You heard.
“Shut up. Nothing needed from the peanut gallery,” you murmured.
Fuck, that man was never going to let you live it down.
Trying to block the smug look on his face from your mind, you bowled once more. Unfortunately, not every pin was knocked down. There was that one final pin left on the left side, and you let out a low groan.
You pouted at the offending pin, watching as the machine at the end of the alley reset the pins for the opponent who sat behind you. You could almost feel him before his hands actually placed themselves onto your hips. It was like an energy that the two of you shared. Something that no one else understood. You finished each other sentences. Eddie would reach for your arm and pull you away from a puddle or a tree branch that you’d never noticed.
He spun you around in his arms, backing you up until the backs of your knees hit the plastic chairs. He gave you a slight little nudge so that you did in fact, sit down. “Here - why don’t you sit down and watch the master at work?”
Your lips parted to retort, but he already slunk off toward where the bowling balls gathered. Pausing, he took the snowflake obsidian ring that he wore on his ring finger on his left hand, and deposited it into his jean pocket. He stuck his tongue out, letting it press to the top of his lip in more concentration than was necessary as he chose a ball. Your brows shot up, blinking as he took longer than you expected him to until he picked a ball that looked like the night sky; black, with hints of purple and blue. All it was missing was stars to make up constellations.
Eddie took the ball and moved into position. He adjusted his stance like a pitcher, shifting slightly. He swung his hips from side to side, earning a laugh from you, which caused him to smile. He pulled his arm back and released the ball, watching, watching, watching until it decided to knock down only half. He went a second time, and managed to get a spare. He shot his hand up in the air with a hoot, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah-yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself there, Munson. First one was just a warm up shot,” you shot back, moving to stand and wiping your suddenly clammy hands against your jeans. “Watch. Next one, it’ll be a strike.”
But you didn’t get a strike on the next ball, or the one after that. You managed it on your eighth frame, but Eddie wasn’t doing much better. You were both pretty close in scores. In fact, so close that the only way that Eddie was going to be able to beat you, was if he got his first strike.
The tongue was back out as he moved to the line for his final shot. You leaned over slightly to get a better view of the ball as he released it down the alley. The rolling of thunder as it barrelled down the lane toward the pins. You sat up straighter, leaned further, even stood up a little bit as you watched the ball stay on a straight path, colliding with the middle pin, and knocking them all down.
Your mouth fell open in shock as Eddie’s strike brought him soaring past your score. He won the game. He had that ever stupid smirk on his lips as he sauntered his way over to you. He placed his hands on either side of your shoulders and bent down far enough that you could smell the nacho cheese and canned salsa that you insisted on buying. He, of course, fought you on it but you snuck over to the stand when he took a bathroom break.
“What was that about bowling me into the ground, princess?”
“Oh, shut up,” you replied, though your voice had no bite, no bark, barely even loud enough to register in your own ears. “That was just a lucky shot.”
Rolling his eyes, he moved to sit next to you. He removed the rented shoes to slip back into his Reeboks, while you did the same with your Converse. Eddie reached down for both pairs of shoes, and headed back to the racks. He placed them in the spot where they would be cleaned and ready for the next unfortunate soul.
Pulling his ring out of his pocket, he placed it back in its rightful place. He shrugged his two-piece jacket combo over his lean body. He then outstretched his hand toward you, waiting for you to place your smaller one into his, hauling you up to your feet. He didn’t let you go though. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
“Did you have fun?” He asked. His voice held an almost uncertain type tone hidden, buried beneath his normal cadence.
Slipping your arm around him in return, between his leather jacket and Metallica shirt, you easily stole some of his warmth. You smiled. “Of course I did.”
“Good. Good. Come on, m’lady. Your chariot awaits.” He paused, slipping his arm from you only to open the door to head back out to the parking lot. The setting sun was gone, replaced by a clear night sky, littered with stars to light the path of lonely travellers. “Besides me winning of course, what was your favourite part?”
“The shoes.”
“The shoes? You’re kidding me right now. Why the shoes?”
“I don’t know, never thought I’d ever see someone make bowling shoes look incredibly.. unattractive.”
Eddie paused in his step, just five or six paces from his van to stare at you. “I thought I made those look good!”
You snorted and moved to the passengers side of the van, “Absolutely not. You looked like you were wearing clown shoes. Now open the door, Eddie. It’s cold out.” You whined, your hand gripping onto the cool metal handle, tugging on it impatiently.
“No, not until you say it.” He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Say what?!”
“That I made those bowling shoes look sexy.”
“Are you being serious? Eddie, for fucks sake.”
“Hey, I’m not the one that decided not to wear a sweater. You knew it was going to be cold before I even took you out.”
“Eddie…” you whined a bit, but he wasn’t budging. With a sigh, you stared at him over the hood of the van, “Edward Munson, you are the only person that I have ever known to make a pair of bowling shoes look so sexy. So sexy in fact, that I had to keep my hands off of you.” You paused, feeling a chill run up your spine as you said the words out loud. They weren’t all together untrue, you knew that. He made everything look good, even a stupid pair of bowling shoes. Licking your lips, your throat suddenly dry at the way he was staring at you from his side of the van, you broke the tension by yanking on the door handle again. “You good with that? Can you open the door now, please?”
Eddie paused for another moment, before shrugging and shaking his head as if he were clearing an invasive thought. “It’ll do.”
You waited for what felt like ages before Eddie climbed into the van, and unlocked the passenger door for you. He immediately placed his key in the ignition, and turned up the heat when he saw a shiver take over your body.
Thankfully he didn’t cover your eyes with his bandana again. It stayed in its rightful place in his left back pocket. It always draped down, just waiting to be snagged. Yet, by some miracle, unless he was wearing it or using it for nefarious purposes - such as keeping his best friend blind - it never left him.
Even though your sight wasn’t taken from you on this portion of the drive, it didn’t stop you from still being excited and anxious as to where he was taking you. It wasn’t long until you clued in and realized where he was taking you. You knew the streets like the back of your hand, you knew where he was taking you. There was only one reason he’d be going this way.
Your hand shot out, smacking at his arm in excitement. Multiple times actually, in quick secessions. A huge grin on your face, you almost resembled a child realizing that Santa left presents beneath the tree on Christmas morning. This man went all out and checked all of the boxes you couldn’t even fathom when it came to Eddie Munson. Of course, you wanted them to be checked by no one else but him. No one else clicked into place. It just didn’t make sense to you that he was purposefully checking them off.
A soft melody filtered through the air as Eddie found the perfect spot to park the van. With the window rolled down, you leaned your arms on the door, watching as people lined up in front of the best ice cream truck in town. The music wasn’t the same old tune that summoned children like the pied piper. No, It was an acoustic guitar, playing side-by-side with a set of homemade drums. The drums were upside down plastic tubs, but you liked the sound the wooden drumsticks made each time they collided with the hollow plastic. It wasn’t what one would call professional, but you actually found it endearing.
A small family owned the ice cream truck. They travelled around, but never left Indiana. The parents stayed inside the truck, while their daughter banged away on her plastic tub. Her husband was the one with the nimble fingers as he strummed his acoustic guitar. They weren’t Maiden, or AC/DC, or even Fleetwood Mac, but they weren’t bad. They had this hometown charm that put a smile on your face. Even Eddie never seemed to complain.
Smacking your hand against the window sill once, you climbed out of the van. Before you could take another step, Eddie skidded to a halt in front of you. His hands came to rest on your shoulders and moved you backwards until you could feel the cool metal against your back.
“You. Stay put.”
Your brows quirked as you stared up at him. “You know, if you keep treating me like a dog, we’re going to have a problem here.” You knew that your words were falling on deaf ears so you sighed, “What’s the big deal? I want to go and say hi! It’s their last night in Hawkins.”
Eddie let out a puff of a sigh, his hands dramatically placed on his hips. “Fine. Fine!” He stepped away, throwing his arm out fo the side, “After you - but don’t you get any funny ideas.” You just rolled your eyes in response, slipping past him with a pat on his shoulder.
The two of you made your way toward the line up, practically buzzing with excitement to get the homemade ice cream. There were about thirteen people in front of you, which wasn’t terrible for a Saturday night. Especially at this ice cream truck. You were expecting there to be more, with it being their last night in Hawkins. You weren’t about to complain though. Maybe it was the fact that it was getting a bit colder and a lot of people probably weren’t fans of eating cold things in the cold. You on the other hand, were a freak of nature in that sense. You loved to eat freezers, ice cream, even slushy drinks in the cold. Eddie made fun of you for it for a while. You eventually brought him over to your way of thinking. He would wake you up at two in the morning on the weekends to go for a late night run to the local convenience store. Just to get a multi-flavoured slushy drink.
Even with you and Eddie being number fourteen and fifteen in line, it didn’t take long at all to reach the trucks window. “Two cherry-chocolate swirls, please.”
The woman behind the window gave the pair of you a big smile, “Ah, Mr. Munson! I was wondering when you’d bring your fair maiden to our midsts.”
Before the heat could course through your entire body from the embarrassment, Eddie cleared his throat and lightly smacked his hand on the trucks windows edge. “Mrs. Clarke, you and I both know that if she doesn’t get your ice cream before you close for the season, she’s not going to hibernate properly. I’m just doing the world a favour.”
Rolling your eyes, you just gave Mrs. Clarke a soft smile and wave, thankful that Eddie didn’t notice your face. You cast your eyes down to the ground, kicking at the stones as Eddie and Mrs. Clarke had a little chat. Their voices were muffled. Mrs. Clarke was one of the adults that you could count on one hand growing up, that knew who Eddie was deep down. Sure, he liked to put on a parade, a spectacle and act like a bad ass. He wore clothing and listened to music that most of the people in Hawkins would shy away from. He stood on tables and yelled at the jocks, the nerds, the partiers.
The stuff he wore, the interests he had made him a pariah, which in turn put you in that category. But you never cared, never minded what people said about you. You had your small group of friends, you had Eddie, and that was all that mattered. You knew the real Eddie. You knew the idiot who tripped over his own feet while telling you a story, not paying attention to where he was walking. You knew the Eddie who took you out on top of his trailer to look up at the sky. The guy who took in freshmen who looked lost and gave them a purpose, a group, a family. Eddie Munson wasn’t a cultist or satanic murderer as some believed he was in the dark. He was just a dork. A dork that played a fantasy game. A dork that you were so irrevocably in love with that some days it hurt.
A plastic cardboard container was placed into your hands. Your head snapped up to see Mrs. Clarke smiling down at you, handing some change over to Eddie. “Thanks, Mrs. Clarke. Already can’t wait until you open back up next year.” There was something to the smirk on her lips, but before you could even try to figure it out, Eddie was saying a quick thank you to the woman and her husband. His hand made itself home on the small of your back as he led you toward the curb.
“Hold this, please.” You requested, handing over your ice cream as you attempted to sit yourself down on the curb without incident. There was a slight crack in your knees as you crouched down, placing your ass onto the cold concrete. Your hand shot up, pointing up at him, “Not a damn word.”
Eddie held up both ice creams as if he was holding his hands up in a surrender pose. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” He reached out to hand you your cherry-chocolate swirl before sitting down on the cool cement next to you. “You’re getting old.”
“You’re older than me, you ass.” Bumping your shoulder into his, his resulting laughter sent warmth throughout your body. Sometimes you wished you could record that sound. So that on nights when you were alone, where you didn’t want to do anything but lay in bed you could play it. It was like a shot of serotonin straight to your veins.
“Just eat your ice cream, Princess Brittle Bones.”
So you did. The two of you ate the cherry-chocolate ice cream in the cool fall night of Hawkins. Mrs. Clarke’s daughter and son-in-law playing some rendition of what you thought was a… Bryan Adams song? You couldn’t be sure. You’d heard it on the radio a few times back at home on the radio. Something about… looking into someones eyes? You couldn’t really remember.
A shiver ran through you. You weren’t sure if it was maybe the fact that it was the ice cream that settled in your stomach, or the chill of the night air. It could have even been the result from his thigh pressed against yours. It wasn’t more than a moment later that you were surrounded by leather. The returning smell of smoke, eucalyptus and cedar surrounded you. The cool air no longer brushing against your limbs as Eddie had draped his leather jacket and jean vest combo around your shoulders.
The air, even though out in the open, felt thick. It was hard. It was a struggle to get air to expand your lungs. This was a normal thing, but tonight it felt different. Everything did.
“Eddie,” you started, a small frown on your face. “You’re going to get cold.”
He shrugged, “Don’t worry about me, princess. I’m thick skinned.”
Looking at him in his Metallica t-shirt you shook your head and shimmied the vest off of the jacket and handed it back to him. “Compromise?”
With a soft sigh, you watched him as he relented and slipped the vest back on. It wouldn’t do much in the way of keeping his arms warm. However, at least it would keep his back and chest from the bite of the cool night air. Placing the empty carton of ice cream next to you, you slipped your arms through the jacket. The cuffs covered your hands. It swallowed you. Letting out one final shiver, you tucked your nose into the collar of the jacket as discreetly as possible, breathing in his scent.
“Ready to get out of here?”
Nodding, you moved to stand, doing your best to hide a groan. Looking down, you saw Eddie smirking up at you. You just rolled your eyes and held your hand out to him to help him to his feet. He groaned as he rose, his own knees popping from the position they’d been in. “Not a single word.” He pointed out.
Smirking, you reached down to grab your carton, and his to throw them out. You gave the Clarke’s one last smile and wave before climbing into the van. Eddie had already started it and put the heat on for you, for which you were grateful.
“Home time?”
“Not quite yet, princess. I have one last thing to close out what I officially dub ‘The Phenomenal Adventures of the Freak and the Psycho.’”
“And they say you’re the best Dungeon Master in Hawkins. Such creativity.”
His finger was in your face, to which you immediately swatted it away as if it were a buzzing fly. “It’s probably safe to bet that you’re not going to tell me where we’re going right?”
“You are correct.”
It was close to midnight when Eddie pulled down a tree covered pathway. The dirt road bumpy and uneven from under use. It wasn’t the main path down to Lover’s Lake, but it was one that you and Eddie used on late nights like this.
Eddie had discovered this little trail one night when he stopped by Reefer Rick’s place. It was on the opposite side of his place, which was on the opposite side of the lake. Which you were okay with, if you were being honest. Reefer Rick used to give you bad vibes, and not just because he was wanting some of the heavier stuff from Eddie. The type of stuff he didn’t carry around every day. Thankfully, he’d been in jail since 1986.You were sure he wouldn’t be in much longer, but you would take every day that you got. He just gave you the creeps. At least Eddie wouldn’t have to deal to him any longer.
The heat shuts off the second the van does, but with Eddie’s leather jacket, you’re not as cold as you were. You nuzzle into the leather for a moment, before looking over at him. He was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. The tapping looked almost.. anxious? With one more hit to the steering wheel, he pulled himself out and into the cool air. You unbuckled your seatbelt, with the intention of opening the door, but Eddie beat you to it. He was already at the passenger side door. He opened it for you, his hand being held out in an offering for you.
“You’re being extremely chivalrous tonight, are you okay?” You eyed him, almost as if he had grown a second head.
“What? Is it that out of the norm for me to be nice to you?”
“Actually, yes.”
With a sigh, Eddie reached in to grab your hand and pulled you out. He was gentle of course. “Come on,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“You’re not going to push me into the lake are you?”
“Oh, ye of little faith here. I’d never push you in.” Before you even had a chance to open your mouth he continued, “Okay there was that one time. I still stand by that you had a wasp in your hair - I was doing your a favour!”
“Right. Charging at me from the other end of the dock and tossing me in like a rag doll was doing me a favour. I’d hate to know what it’s actually like to have you do me a favour.”
Eddie led you to the back of his van and opened the doors. “You’re just going to have to trust me for once, princess. Believe in the Munson charm.”
You smiled at him as you shook your head, letting him help you up onto the bed of the van. You looked out into the water, watching as the lake had very soft ripples. It was beautiful, and calm. The van shook slightly as Eddie hoped up next to you, climbed in and began searching for something. There was the familiar sound of two metal clasps being unlocked. Eddie shuffled around some more, the van rocking with his movements before he finally settled into place next to you.
Turning, you noticed the familiar acoustic guitar that usually sat in the corner of his room. The words ‘this machine slays dragons’, were sprawled across the dark oak finish. You had told him once as he plucked away on it, and he loved the saying so much that he had you paint the words. He shifted into a more comfortable position beside you. You couldn’t help but grin at him, “Aw, Eddie, are you going to serenade me in the pale moonlight?”
The look he shot you was one that told you to be quiet. You hadn’t seen him look this nervous, this out of place since you were children. You moved your hand, placing it gently on his to give it a squeeze. You weren’t sure what he was so nervous about, why he looked scared, but you had to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. He never had to hide anything around you.
“I’ve,” Eddie paused for a moment. He shimmied in his position as he cleared his throat. “I’ve been working on this for a while. I know that you’ve been wondering why I haven’t let you come around for practice. I just… I wanted to surprise you.”
“Okay,” you replied, giving his hand another squeeze before placing both of yours in your lap. Your attention completely and totally devoted to the man who held your heart in his hands. “I’m sure whatever it is, is going to sound amazing. It always does.”
“Okay,” Eddie repeated your word. You watched him take in a deep breath as he placed his fingers into the right position. For a moment, you watched him fiddle with the strings, then with the sound until he was satisfied. It took him another moment before he began to play.
You were expecting something completely different. Something in the realm of a brand-new Corroded Coffin song. You were so sure that that was the reason why he’d kept you from watching him practice and teach himself something new, but as he played, the melody was familiar to you. Your brows furrowed, your eyes lifted from the way his fingers plucked at the steel string, up to his face. Eddie didn’t look at you. He had his eyes focused on the water straight ahead. It was almost as if he was afraid to even toss a glance your way.
“I took my love, I took it down.
I climbed a mountain and I turned around…
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
’Til the landslide brought me down..”
Your heart hammered in your chest, your eyes wide as you stared at him. Landslide. Eddie Munson was playing your song. The song you listened to in the darkness of your bedroom. The one that you listened to when you thought about him. Thought about how the two of you would never cross that line. But here he was. Surprising you, as usual. He had actually gone out of his way to learn something that wasn’t metal. Something that didn’t even remotely interest him. You felt like you couldn’t breath.
“Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?”
Listening to Eddie play was always one of your favourite things to do. You could have sat there for hours as he taught himself something from scratch. It wasn’t just watching his fingers move nimbly across the strings either. His voice was beautiful. It was a rare sight that he ever sang something so soft, to anyone. It gave you goosebumps.
“Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too…”
Eddie continued to sing, which helped you realize that there was no better sound in the world than this. You wanted to sing along with him, as softly as possible, but you also didn’t want to ruin the little bubble he’d created. He looked so beautiful, so focused. His face hidden behind a curtain of his dark brown curls. You know that if you tried to get a better look at him, that his eyes would be closed, his face contorted in concentration. You closed your eyes, a soft smile fell on your lips. You moved to rest your head against the fame of the trunk. Just letting this moment wash over you like a warm blanket.
“Oh-oh, take my love, take it down
Oh-oh, climb a mountain and you turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide bring it down
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hill
Well, the landslide bring it down
Oh-ohh, the landslide bring it down…”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. You opened your eyes to watch as Eddie placed his Dragon Slayer back in her case, safely hidden away.
With his hands now free of his guitar, you watched as he spun his rings around his fingers. It was his tell that he was getting a little bit nervous. You weren’t sure if it was maybe the silence that was getting to him, or he was wanting to say something but didn’t know how to get it out.
“Eddie that was… very metal of you.”
His shoulders shook with a soft laugh, causing you to smile. He sat up a bit straighter, his hand coming put to push his unruly hair from his face. “Yeah?” He asked.
“Absolutely. I’ve only been trying to get you to sit down and listen to Fleetwood Mac for what feels like years now.” You grinned, “Told you that they wouldn’t make your ears bleed. Stevie Nicks has one of the most amazing voices I have ever heard.”
“Yeah, I guess they’re not too bad.”
Another silence fell over the two of you. It was quiet except for the gentle breeze as it passed through the leaves. There was something that was bothering you. It wasn’t a bad bother, not even close, but you had to know.
“Eddie, can I ask you something?” You asked, your fingers picking at a loose threat connected to one of the rips on his black jeans. You had to do something to keep your mind from going out of control.
“Anything,” he replied, his voice slightly concerned.
Your mouth was dry, your heart pounded in your chest as you thought about how to say this out loud, about how to ask. He took you bowling, took you out for your favourite ice cream and danced in the street with you. Eddie Munson even learned to play your favourite song on the guitar to surprise you. There had to be a reason he was doing this, and you knew that you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but you had to ask.
“Why did -“ you paused, taking in a deep breath. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying the flesh between the white pearls. Biting your lip was a tell that you were nervous. You hated that he knew your tells, as seconds later he had reached his hand toward your jaw. Using his thumb, he gently pulled the reddened flesh from between your teeth. You could feel your face heat up as you took in another breath. “You know that I appreciate today. I really did, I just… Why?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you asked.
“Why what?”
“Why did you go out of your way to do,” you paused, your hands coming up to gesture around you, “All of this?” The words finally made their way out of your mouth.
Eddie let out a soft sigh from beside you, his hands placed behind him so that he could put his weight on them. His beautiful, chocolate brown eyes gazed out at the water. Watching as the moon’s reflection was ever so slightly disturbed by the soft ripples.
“I don’t know,” he started. “I guess I just wanted to give my favourite girl the adventure that she deserves.”
“Oh.” Your voice was soft, almost distant as you looked down at the ground between your legs. Fingers slipped themselves from the rip they had been picking at. They moved to bit at the skin on the sides of your nails, trying not to focus on how disappointed you felt. How it suddenly hurt to breathe. On how your heart felt like a piece was slowly breaking off. You had known better. You knew you shouldn’t have thought anything other than that. Eddie wouldn’t have had an ulterior motive to spend the day with you.
“I was a chicken shit.” His voice cut off your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You frowned, lifting your head to chance a glance in his direction. You were expecting him to still be watching the water, but his eyes met yours the second you looked up. A puff of a sigh passed his lips as he adjusted his position, his hands folding in his lap. You watched as he began to spin and fiddle with the rings that covered his long fingers.
You had the urge to reach out, to take his hand in your own. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be holding hands, especially when either one of you were nervous and needed the other to be grounded. But the fact that he was quite obviously trying to get something off his chest, you felt like it might derail his thoughts. You kept your hands in your own lap, kept your mouth shut, and patiently waited.
“I was a chicken shit,” he repeated, “I have no idea how to do something like this with… anyone, especially you. I’ve never really had the opportunity or wanted to put much thought into planning a date, unless it was with you. I know, I know. I know I never asked you. I know that you had no idea that I was using the term adventure as a code word for date. Which, was absolutely the entire point.”
Pausing, he took in a deep breath, “I wasn’t sure if it would’ve been something that you were even into. Or if you were even into all this - “ he paused, gesturing to himself. “Especially with Harrington around. I know you guys are friends, I know that you hang out - and that’s totally cool! I just, Harrington is…. Well, he’s Harrington. He’s cool, and strong. He’s got great hair, and big eyes. He’s even a real cool dude. Hell, you’ve seen how much Dustin absolutely worships the guy, right? It’s really weird. Not that I’m jealous or anything.” He let out a sigh, “The point is. I would have understood if you were in love with him.”
You stared at him as if he had grown a second head, “Eddie, I’m not in love with Steve, but I’m starting to think that you might be.”
That caused the reaction that you’d hoped it would. Eddie chuckled, and it seemed to put the two of you into a different kind of space. He didn’t seem to be as nervous around you. His shoulders weren’t as rigid, they were relaxed. Even his legs swung back and forth as they hung over the tailgate of the van. It gave you the opportunity to do what you had wanted to earlier. You reached over, gently taking one of his hands into your own. Your fingers slid perfectly in place between his own. Eddie’s head tilted forward, watching the way your hands looked like they belonged together. He couldn’t help but caress the knuckle of your thumb with his own. His thumb was soft, softer than the rest of his fingers due to the callouses from his guitar. Even though weren’t harsh to your skin when they brushed against you.
“I’m haven’t been reading into anything wrong here, have I?” Eddie questioned, his voice softer than normal. Nervous still. It was kind of cute, if you were being honest with yourself. Eddie had always hid behind a guarded wall, a wall that he so often let down around you. To this day, it still never stopped you from feeling honoured that he trusted you so deeply to do so.
You shook your head, a small smile falling on your lips, “Not even in the slightest bit, Munson.” You replied, your voice just as soft as his. You were afraid to speak any louder, afraid to put a pin to the small bubble the two of you had created.
The silence that followed wasn’t a terrible silence. It didn’t fill you with dread, or worry. It was the type of silence that made you wonder where you went next. Both of you unsure of what to say. Was he asking you, without asking you, to be his? Either way, the answer would be yes - you’ve always been his. Giving his hand a squeeze, you opened your mouth, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.”
Eddie’s head shot up, his eyes wide in shock and awe as he gazed at you. You held up the index finger of your free hand, bringing it to his lips. To keep him from opening the big, beautiful mouth of his and ruining what you were trying to say. “I will be a shield-maiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren. No longer do I desire to be a Queen.”
Eddie chuckled, the hand that was not currently laced with your own, reached up to take the one you had pressed to his lips. He then laced his fingers together with yours, so that both of your hands were nestled in his larger ones. “That is well, for I am not a King. Yet I will wed with the Queen of Hellfire,” he was grinning. His lips were spread wide in the most beautiful, radiant smiles. “If it be her will. And if she will, then let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien and there make a garden. All things will grow with joy there, if the Queen comes.”
“Slow down there, dude.” You chuckled, shaking your head, “Let’s hold off on the wedding talk for now, yeah?” But your face lit up. There was a grin nestled on it just as bright and side as his own. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach so violently, you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating.
“Ah yes, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ll buy the ring on the third date.”
You snorted, prying a hand from his to place it on his face, covering it and giving him a gentle shove. Eddie reached up to take the offended appendage back into his grip, back down to his lap. When he was satisfied that you weren’t going to try and pry your hand away, he took the opportunity to reach up and cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. You felt like all the air was being sucked from the van, even with the fact that you two sat on the tailgate, the doors wide open. You nuzzled into his palm, your eyes fluttering for a moment, your hands coming up to grip on the edges of his denim vest. Your eyes opened to meet his, “Here you are, talking about marriage before you’ve even kissed me,” you whispered.
“Sweetheart,” he started, causing your heart to skip a beat. He’d never called you sweetheart in the entire expanse of your friendship. It had always been Princess, Queen of Hellfire, Psycho - although that one is more in jest, due to the fact that you were dubbed The Psycho alongside him being known as The Freak. Everyone that wasn’t in your small group of friends thought you were psychotic for being best friends with the big bad, satanic cult leader. Eddie hardly even called you by your own name. He only seemed to when the two of you were fighting, which wasn’t often, or when you were upset. You loved every name he called you, it was like music falling from his lips. But Sweetheart? Sweetheart sent a thrill up your spine. That name was always reserved for his guitar. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I hit puberty.”
With his hand still cupping your cheek, he slid it to the back of your neck, bringing you closer, closer until your foreheads were pressed together. Your fingers closed tighter on the blue denim, using the fabric like a lifeline, something to keep you grounded in the van with him. You gave the fabric a little bit of a tug, “You want to marry me, but yet you still haven’t kissed me, you idiot.”
Eddie chuckled as his hand slid along your jaw, pinching your chin between his fingers, angling your head up toward his, “I should probably fix that, shouldn’t I?” he murmured, his lips just barely brushing your own. You could feel his breath, could smell the cigarette from an hour ago as you nodded.
Minutes, hours passed when it was only a matter of seconds before he finally closed the distance. His lips pressed softly against your own, testing the waters. He pulled away, his eyes searching yours for some unspoken question. He seemed to have found it, as he closed the distance a moment later, pressing his lips harder to yours, causing your eyes to flutter shut. There was a soft tingle from his fingertips as they caressed your jawline to the back of your neck, angling you so that he could deepen the kiss.
It was over before you wanted it to be, the burning ache in your lungs as they were desperate for air. He didn’t pull away too far, just enough for you two to catch your breath, your foreheads pressed together, matching grins on your kiss swollen lips as he caressed your neck.
“Just so you know,” you started, “By the third date you’re apparently supposed to officially open up and be all mushy and shit.” Your hand came up, tugging on one of the curly, unruly strands that covered his head. “Since we can skip all that bullshit, you could maybe get me a ring. You know, only if you wanted to, I guess.”
“Cool.” Eddie grinned, “Maybe I’ll get you a promise ring. Just so that I can save up enough from the shop.”
Ever since Eddie had to repeat his senior year for a second time, he got a part time job at Thacher Tires. Up until about a year ago, when he quit and started a job at the record store in the Starcourt Mall. He was working to save up to help fix up the trailer he shared with Wayne, and work on getting one himself. He was so close. He’d been working so hard on saving up for it.
“I don’t need a promise ring,” you promised him, your hand smoothing his hair from his face. “I’ll take one of those ring pops.”
He still had that stupid smile on his lips, “Maybe one of those red ones? Cherry - maybe strawberry?”
“Keep it up with the talk of a cherry ring pop, Munson, and I might be the one getting down on my knees.”
“Well, if we’re going down that route…”
You snorted, your hand coming out to push him away but Eddie was too fast this time. He pulled you into his side, wrapped his arm around your shoulder, making sure that you were tucked nicely into his warmth. You instantly snuggled into him, breathing in his scent. For a moment, you were worried that things might get weird between you two, though it was immediately quelled. You have been inseparable your entire lives since you were children. You did everything together. Robin knew how you felt about him, and had always teased you. Saying that you should just ask him out, saying that Eddie felt the same way about you. She always said that you two already acted like you were dating. You had been absolutely adamant that he didn’t feel the same way about you.
Boy, were you wrong - and for once in your life you were thankful to be wrong.