Brightside

10 | wildest dreams

It wasn't that Axel insisted on listening to Getaway Car—which he thought was ironic and Eddie thought was moronic—that kept Eddie from sleeping when they got to the apartment.

It wasn't the stupid photo set on Instagram Maverick posted at one in the morning, either. A stitched finger in one slide, a second photo of Everleigh laughing at him and flipping him off, a third with her actively sewing his finger up, and a fourth with her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing his cheek, Maverick all smiles. All with the caption nurse love of my life with a bunch of stupid heart emojis. (Stevie was quick to comment medical malpractice is leigh kissing you and not me.) And even with how stupid it was that he actually replied to a fan concerned about him, I'm totally fine I just shouldn't cut fruit, that wasn't why Eddie couldn't sleep, either.

It wasn't even the many texts from Rush checking in on her wellbeing because he was nothing if not the greatest friend and father figure Eddie had ever known. At least Rush was there for her, no matter what.

It was the fact that when Axel backed out of the stall, he put his hand on the back of her headrest and what the hell was she supposed to do knowing that he was someone who did that? Who had his hand that close to her and didn't touch her with it? Who Eddie realized—and lord, did that keep her up longer—was welcomed to touch her.—a revolting thing to recognize.

She wasn't sure what time it was when she heard rustling in the kitchen. Accepting the fact that sleep was not her friend that night, Eddie pushed herself out of Axel's bed. Walked out, saw Axel puttering away in the kitchen. She was bathed in one of Axel's hoodies that smelt—most wonderfully—like geranium, mint, and sandalwood. Her sweatpants were fine bottoms and hadn't been changed.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Eddie said. Leaning against the doorframe.

Axel turned. Eddie fought a smile at the World Series 2018 Champions shirt he was wearing. The pyjama bottoms were a different pair of boxers than the Red Sox ones he was wearing before. Something about that was reassuring. There was a white cardigan with red stars on the elbows wrapped around him. A guilty expression dressed his face. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Eddie shook her head, walked over and leaned against the island. Her forearms could feel the cold counter through the hoodie sleeves. "Couldn't sleep."

"Want to join me for pasta?"

"Right now?"

"It's called upsetti spaghetti," Axel said. He motioned to the pile of noodles he'd already made. A homemade sauce stewing away in a pan beside a pot of boiling water. "It's made when you're upset you can't sleep so you make pasta from scratch to kill time. And then you're upset it tastes good and you know you should make pasta from scratch all the time but sometimes you want to be fucking lazy and it just ruins... your life."

"Sounds cheery, I'm in."

Axel smiled. Axel had a nice smile. Axel had the sort of smile that made Eddie want to see him smile more often. But that would mean she would have to see him more often. And be present enough to make him smile. Huh. That was new. That was terrifying. That was going to be suppressed if she could help it. "You can sit at the coffee table if you want, ignore the mess. Or you're more than welcome to sit on the counter."

"The counter?"

Axel looked around for a moment. Pouted his lips and raised his eyebrows a little. Shrugged. "It's been a while since I hooked up with someone if that's what you're—"