'tis the season (to love you)

CHAPTER SIX

Loud chuckles ring in his ears, and Eddy can't help but join in. It comes eagerly, this laughter; eating good food surrounded by good people makes it all too easy. He can't help but notice the way Brett's relaxed in this place, like a heavy burden that's been hanging on his shoulders at the con had lifted the second he stepped into his grandmother's presence. Eddy might still be feeling guilty about all the lying fuckery they're doing, but now he doesn't feel very regretful about coming here to see his best friend leave all his worries away by the door.

"Well, enough about my apparent bad taste in house apparel," Helen sniffs, mock-wounded, and then takes a dainty sip of her teacup. "So. I am curious. Would you mind if I ask little questions?"

This: this is the part they've rehearsed. Brett's grilled him over and over with questions about their fake cover story, training him like a drill master for this very moment.

When did you fall in love with him?

The day he skipped a concert he was supposed to play in to go watch mine, the idiot. That's when I realized I was in love with my best friend, no matter how stupid he is.

Who made the first move?

Brett did. He says he got too impatient waiting for me to see the light, or whatever that means.

Who said I love you first?

Me. And I'd tell him that everyday, even if he grows tired of it.

(He'd put more of his heart into answering if all the things he's been saying are true.)

(He fell in love with Brett way before that concert ever happened.)

But then, the old woman smiles, puts down her cup in its saucer and leans forward. "There are plenty of other fish in the sea around you, Edward. I use the Facebook, you know," she tells him, and oh shit, his pictures with his exes. He hadn't thought to delete them or hide them at all. "What made you stay with Brett, stupid boy that he is, when there are plenty of pretty girls and boys lining up for you?"

Silence. Brett looks seconds away from throwing himself over the table to intervene, and as hilarious as that mental image is, Eddy's not about to let his mask slip. "Well, it's because I love him." It feels like an incomplete answer, and so he takes a deep breath, pulls an answer from the depths of his heart. "I love him, flaws and all. He understands me when no one else could, so really—I'm absolutely lucky to be with him."

Eddy's telling the truth, no beating around the bush about it, and so it comes out absolutely sincere. Brett's eyes flicker towards him for a brief second, though, and that confuses him. What's so wrong about that confession? Doesn't he want this to sound genuine?

Blithely ignoring Brett's sudden need to bury his face in his coffee mug, Helen leans over the table to pat Eddy's cheek fondly. "Such a sweet boy. I think my idiot grandson is the lucky one to be with you," she smirks,

"Ah ha. I'd have to disagree with that, Nana," Eddy grins, finding sure footing in the conversation again, "on everything but the idiocy."

"Yes, yes, Brett Yang is an idiot, moving on," Brett complains, breathing out what Eddy knows is a sigh of relief at the sight of his grandmother's amused grin.

There are no prying questions after that.

(Deep down, he's a teensy bit disappointed. It's worth the anxiety of impromptu interviews, seeing the flush on Brett's face behind that coffee mug.)

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