Chapter Text
Chrissy rocked on the balls of her feet as she looked up at the door of Eddie’s trailer, hoping to hear the scuffle of feet, or the click of the door unlocking. She’d already knocked twice but had been met with no response.
I’ll just wait a few more minutes, she thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek, it is still early.
She clutched onto the bouquet of blue hydrangeas and fiddled with their stems. She’d wanted white roses but the flower stall she’d visited had only stocked red, and she hadn’t wanted to come across as too forward, or romantic.
She didn’t mean for it to be romantic; it was just an apology gift, and she didn’t know what else to get. She supposed she could have bought chocolates, but she didn’t know what Eddie liked, or if he was allergic to anything. She looked down at the flowers, and her heart suddenly dropped. What if he was allergic to hydrangeas? Could someone be allergic to hydrangeas? What if he hated hydrangeas? What if he had some terrible memory connected to them and she was…
Chrissy let out a tense breath.
God, what was she even doing? Buying flowers for a drug dealer because she’d freaked out before even trying anything? That was pathetic. That wasn’t what normal people did. Normal people didn’t need to buy drugs to deal with their fucked-up mind in the first place, but the people that did certainly didn’t buy their dealers flowers.
Chrissy chewed on her lip until she tasted blood and decided she would knock one final time. If he didn’t answer after that, she’d just go. She looked over her shoulder, thinking maybe she could ask someone if they knew if Eddie was in, but no one was around, and she didn’t think she had the energy to knock on any other doors. She reached up and rapped her knuckles against the metal three times. Just a few more seconds. Just a few…
‘Chrissy?’
Chrissy let out a yelp, and spun around, one of the hydrangeas falling from her grasp.
‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.’ Eddie gave her a wonky smile, running a hand through his messy hair. ’Getting de ja vu here, aren’t you?’ bent down, picking up the fallen flower, before holding it out to her. ‘If I had ever been here before I would probably know just what to do.’
Unsure of what he meant, Chrissy offered a shaky smile and took the flower, fitting it back into the bouquet. ‘Yeah?’
A hesitant “yeah” obviously wasn’t what he was looking for, because he cocked his head and crossed his arms. ‘Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young?’ he asked. ‘No?’
Chrissy shook her head. ‘Sorry,’ she said softly, but she couldn’t feel embarrassed for long; Eddie’s smile was too contagious.
‘Oh Chrissy, you do pain me,’ he said, and something about the way he spoke made her stomach do a somersault. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He looked down at the hydrangeas, as if suddenly realising what they were. ‘Who are they for?’
Chrissy cleared her throat and forced herself to make eye contact as she spoke. ‘They’re — uh — for you?’ She thrust the bouquet towards him, and Eddie blinked before taking the flowers hesitantly. ‘That’s why I’m here, actually.’
‘Uh…’ He laughed, and Chrissy swallowed back the building anxiety. ‘They’re lovely, but why?
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I mean that’s what they’re for. To say sorry.’
Eddie furrowed his brow.
‘For the other day,’ she continued, looking down at her shoes. They were dirty and the toes were scuffed; even the bottom of her jeans were caked in mud. God, she must look a state. She hadn’t even taken her hair out of her ponytail while she slept last night. That was if you could call tossing and turning with your eyelids twitching open ‘sleep’. In all honesty, she’d barely slept more than twenty minutes since the panic attack. ‘I freaked on you, and just sort of ran off. I don’t remember much of it. I think you tried to calm me down, but I just ran away.’ She swallowed, voice turning to a mumble. ‘I always do that.’
‘Hey,’ Eddie said, bending down a little so he was closer to her height. He held the bouquet in one hand while resting the other on Chrissy’s shoulder. ‘You really didn’t need to.’
Chrissy flushed, ears prickling with static as he squeezed her shoulder. His touch was warm, and she could feel the tip of his thumb resting against her collarbone. ‘Sorry, I— it was stupid.’
‘No, It’s not stupid. At all. But you don’t need to apologise for freaking out. Whether it was to do with the drugs or not, everyone’s got shit they’re dealing with. Trust me, I’ve seen worse than a little old panic attack.’
Chrissy pressed her lips together and nodded, really wishing she hadn’t worn her sweatshirt. She felt like she was burning through her own skin.
‘Hey, so…’ he said, dragging his words out, ‘did you want to come in at all?’ he asked, returning to his full height. ‘I don’t know how long you were out here for, but I think rain’s forecast and I’d hate to send you home in the rain. Unless you’ve got plans?’ He lightly touched the petals of the hydrangeas as he spoke, occasionally looking up at Chrissy, gentle brown eyes scanning her face.
Chrissy shook her head. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Right on,’ he said, face returning to that lazy grin, and he stepped past her to unlock the trailer door. ‘Normally my uncle would be here, and I’d be giving him shit for letting a lady stand out here in the cold.’ The door opened with a loud creak, and Eddie gestured for her to enter before him. She obliged with a small smile. ‘But for once he’s doing an early shift, so I’m the only one to blame here.’ He closed the door behind them and immediately made a beeline for pile of boxers and socks abandoned on the sofa. ‘Once again, sorry for the mess,’ he said, still clutching onto the hydrangeas, while scooping up as many clothes as he could. He kicked a few beer cans under the sofa, swearing as one made the faint fizz of liquid spilling out across the floor. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I’ll clean that before you sit down.’
Chrissy laughed a little. ‘That’s okay,’ she said, because it was. There was something endearing about it all. It wasn’t all picture perfect. Eddie’s home looked lived in.
‘So, what are you doing up so early?’ she asked, then immediately cursed herself for sounding so judgmental. ‘Not that I mean…’
‘Nah,’ he said, waving he off, and with hydrangeas still in hand, he disappeared into a room at the end of the hallway. ‘The Mayfield girl,’ he called from the other room, ‘— Max if you know her? —was asking if I had any batteries spare.’ He appeared once again, a large, ceramic vase in hand. ‘Her Walkman ran out. Otherwise, I’d still very much be in bed.’ He glanced over at her with a smile. ‘I’m sure that seems lazy as all hell to a dedicated cheer-er such as yourself.’
Chrissy hummed, and fiddled with the cuffs of her sweatshirt, pulling them down past her fingers to squeeze the fabric. ‘Not at all,’ she said, watching as Eddie slowly filled up the vase with water. It was a light peach, with red swirls and dots decorating the neck and body. It looked hand-painted, and wasn’t something she had expected Eddie to own, but then again, Eddie wasn’t anything like what she’d expected. ‘I wish I could lay in, but my parents always say sleeping in past seven is a day of wasted potential.’
Eddie balked. ‘Hate to think what they’d say about me then,’ he said, turning off the tap, He settled the vase down on the coffee table ‘In my opinion, it doesn’t matter what time you wake up, or if you spend the whole day in bed. If you need the rest, you need the rest.’ He placed the hydrangeas in the vase, moving them about until he was satisfied with their placement. ‘There!’ he said, clapping his hands together. ‘Perfect, right?’
Chrissy looked at Eddie; the way his fringe fell into his eyes, the crows-feet that formed when he smiled, the tattoos on his arms. ‘Yeah,’ she said, meeting his gaze. ‘Perfect.’