Freaks to Lovers

3. Memories

You're sitting on Eddie's full-sized bed, back against the wall with your feet dangling over the edge. Blankets and pillows askew, but he never was one to make his bed. Or clean his room, for that matter. You snuff out the remnants of your joint in the ashtray on the end table closest to you. This is a bit stronger than usual.

"Hey, Eddie. Can I ask you something?"

"What's up?" Eddie has his own joint hanging out of the corner of his mouth, absentmindedly plucking the strings of his guitar while leaning against his dresser. The ashtray next to him is full from all the nights you spent doing this exact same thing.

It's another Friday night, and all Friday nights were reserved for movie marathons and smoking. That is, if Corroded Coffin didn't have practice or a gig at The Hideout. So, it's a ritual at this point- spending the weekend in Eddie's room, hotboxing until delirium sets in. The heavy smoking often led to some great memories. Like the time he admitted his first kiss wasn't until his junior year. Or the time you snapped one of his strings on his prized guitar when you took it from his hand to put away. The both of you sat in stunned silence before Eddie cracked up first, laughing and making sure the string didn't catch you on the hand.

But tonight- tonight the high doesn't feel quite so fun this round. You feel heavy. You've felt this heaviness for a little while but didn't know how to say it in words that made sense to anyone outside of your head. You've wanted to ask Eddie this for such a long time, but your nerves always won. You also didn't want to sound stupid, making a big deal out of nothing. Although the longer you waited to ask him, the heavier and bigger it seemed to be on your shoulders. Tonight though, the weed gave you the courage you needed to finally say something. It gave you the courage to say something out loud this time. Maybe it was a different strain than what Eddie deals and that's why it feels different. He always said he usually keeps the better stuff for himself and his 'favorite clientele.' Though truth be told, you never paid him. Not once. Though, not for lack of trying; he turned you down when he first started offering you a couple of joints those years ago, so you stopped offering and just accepted. He called it his 'sweetheart discount.'

Oh, stop stalling and just say it already!

"Do you think I'm pretty?" You pick at your fingers so you have something to focus on while you avoid him snapping his head to you.

"What?" His fingers stop plucking the strings and narrow his eyes, cocking his head to the side.

"Do- do you think I'm pretty?" You still don't look up. You're afraid of seeing his features give himself away before his words find their voice. Eddie always wore his true feelings on his face, no matter what. Even during a campaign, if he thought the current situation was a bad move for the players, his features scrunched slightly in a wince but his tongue slipped lies telling you to follow your plan for the play at hand. So, you didn't want to see the rejection and then hear it. Eddie hurting your feelings once was enough for you, you didn't need the double whammy.

Eddie rests the base of his blessed guitar on the floor, the neck still in his hand refusing to let go. "What is this about? Why are you me askin' that?" He snuffs out his blunt in the ashtray with his free hand.

"Can you just- can you just answer the question? Please?" The desperation in your voice is making you sick. You want to run. You want to let your feet carry you very far away from here, so far that you don't feel the embarrassment of your words anymore. You want to escape the corner you've backed yourself into.

"No, 'cause I wanna know why you're askin'. Did someone tell you that you weren't?" Eddie ignores the fact that the question is directed specifically at him. He pushes himself off his dresser to hang his guitar back in its special mount on the wall by his bed. He takes a step back to the dresser, never taking his eyes off you but keeping his distance. He barely bends his knees, trying to meet your eyes. You ignore him as well and pull your knees to your chest to block him out further.