A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Locked Out by Daddy Issues. In this one, Eddie and Reader are best friends who bonded over their love of music. I'm pretty sure it's totally platonic, but I can never really tell with these things. I hope you all enjoy it.
"Come on," Eddie uttered, groaning as he slumped down onto the bed beside you, watching you with bright eyes. "Just show it to me," he added, pushing your shoulder with his foot as you tolled your eyes. "You wouldn't have mentioned that you'd been writing again unless you wanted to show me," he added, finally catching your attention.
"I told you I was writing because you're my friend and I thought you would be interested in how I spend my time-"
"Is it finished?" he interrupted, shifting around on the bed until he was grinning up at you, his head resting in your lap. "Because if it's finished, you're obligated as my best friend to play it for me," he reminded you. "Sweetheart is already tuned to perfection-"
You let out a disgruntled sigh. "Will you just drop it?"
He shrugged slightly, an awkward gesture given his position. "Probably not."
You hesitated for a moment, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's not a proper song," you confessed. "I mean it is, but it's not the sort of thing I usually write. It's not loud or big. It's more-" you paused, shaking your head. "It's more personal."
"Well, who better to share personal stuff with than me, huh?" he told you, his smile faltering slightly when you didn't even crack a smile at his comment. "Come on, at least you know I won't be mean about it. All of my criticism will be totally constructive."
You let out a soft sigh, shoving his head out of your lap as you got to your feet, walking over to his guitar and running your finger down the neck, taking a deep breath. When you finally took it off of the wall, Eddie was sitting up, watching you carefully. In all of his years as your best friend, he'd never seen you look so nervous before. Or at least, he hadn't seen you look so nervous where he was concerned.
You settled yourself into his desk chair, propping the guitar in your lap, your eyes darting up to look at him for a moment before focusing back on the strings.
"Turns out I'm a bummer," you sang softly, drawing a delicate tune out of the guitar as you went. "I'm not the kind of girl you keep around or kiss in the morning." Your voice flickered slightly, your eyes pressing tightly closed as you kept playing. "I blacked out in the suburbs so I don't remember. Turns out I'm covered in last Summer."
Eddie frowned as he watched you. Sure, the song was good. In fact, it was probably one of the best performances he'd ever seen you put out. But, the words were lingering with him a little more than usual.
"Coming down; avalanche of awkward. Making out; didn't want to talk much. Got locked out; we stayed on the porch couch. Fooled around. But it's unimportant now. Because I'm unimportant now."
Your breath caught in your throat as you held the note on the guitar, your eyes fluttering open but refusing to even risk looking up at Eddie. Sure, he'd known about your ex-boyfriend. He'd known that you'd struggled with the breakup. But you'd been so avoidant when he'd wanted to comfort you. You'd wanted to bury it. So, knowing that he was hearing it now was tying your stomach up in knots.
"Guess I'm not a swimmer. I'm just the type of girl you can drag down and wash away in the morning-" your voice cracked as the words left you, your fingers hitting a bum note on the guitar, and you could almost feel the weight of Eddie's stare on you as you considered whether to bother continuing. "It's just the chorus again after that," you hummed out, biting down on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "It's not finished yet."
"Fuck," he breathed out, finally drawing your eyes up to look at him. "I think you've been working on the wrong genre this whole time, you know that?" he pressed on, offering you his most comforting smile. "It's about Luke, right?"
You hesitated for just a moment before nodding. "Yeah," you murmured, getting up to hang up the guitar on the wall, looking for any excuse to avoid sitting still within his gaze.
"He was a piece of shit for making you feel that way," he reminded you, catching your arm as you moved to go past him again. "You aren't a bummer," he added softly. "And you're the most important person in my life," he told you, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "You're incredible and he was lucky that you ever gave him the time of day."
You seemed to deflate as his words registered, the tense feeling seeping out of your shoulders as you moved to sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.
"You're going to meet some equally incredible guy someday, you know that? And then, you'll look back at this song and think you were an idiot for ever letting someone make you feel so darn worthless," he pressed on.
"Thank you, Eddie," you breathed out, reaching down to take his hand and clamping on to it as though it was your anchor, stopping you from floating away.
"Thank you for playing it for me."
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