Bad Habit - {Eddie Munson x y/n}

A Rainy Sunday

You're woken by the sound of the front door banging shut and heavy boots entering the trailer, you're able to hear every step the person takes through the flimsy bedroom walls. You're not sure what time of the morning it is but you know that the person rummaging around in the kitchen now must be Wayne coming home from work so it will be around 8 or 9am. You rub your eyes and stretch your arms up and out straight, letting out a long yawn, muffling the sound with your hand. You can feel Eddie's entire bare leg resting on top of your lap as he is laid practically starfished on his bed and you're half way underneath him.

You gently remove his heavy limb from your body before rolling onto your side and repositioning yourself against his bare chest. Strands of his wild mane are sticking up and out everywhere all frizzy and messy, you take your hand and softly push the rogue strands out of his face. You allow your hand to drop slightly to fiddle with the guitar pick necklace that he wears around his neck, it had been a birthday gift you got him a few years back and he's never taken it off since. The same hand then travels down and rubs soft circles into his upper bicep before finding its way to the tattoo on his chest and carefully tracing the lines of ink with your fingertips just barely touching his skin. You love to watch Eddie sleeping, he is so peaceful and calm, much different to his crazy, theatric and unapologetically loud personality when he's awake. You're taking real advantage of his sleeping state right now to let your fingers gently explore the parts of his body that are exposed from underneath the blankets are both wrapped up in.

The sound of rainfall and the whistle of wild wind is still ringing in your ears, you wonder if the storm went on all night, if it did you dread to look outside to the destruction caused in the trailer park. No doubt there will be a couple of trees down and some very angry residents with leaky roofs, you just hope this trailer isn't one of them. This thought brings you right back to the conversation you and Eddie had that fateful Sunday night at your house, the first conversation you had had in months with him, when he explained his reasoning for pushing you away and becoming absent in your life. In short terms, Eddie hadn't felt good enough to be your best friend. He didn't feel good enough because he grew up here in this trailer park, in a 1 bed tiny metal home of which his uncle has to sleep on a pull out bed in the lounge to allow Eddie the privacy of a bedroom. Whereas you grew up in a 4 bedroom, white picket fence house with a wrap around porch.

The thought of him laid in his bed alone at night, having these deep thoughts and deciding the best thing to do was remove himself from your life as to not 'hold you back' in his own words, really upset you. It sent what felt like a dagger through your heart, the thought of Eddie not feeling good enough for you. What Eddie doesn't know is that he is the single most important thing in your life, you can't imagine living without him. For all those months that he was absent in your life you were a wreck, you were an emotional mess in private, your brain never, ever stopped thinking about him. You tried to play off your hurt with either anger towards him or smiling through the pain and acting like you didn't care when really it was all you did care about.

You are so glad that fate brought him through your front door that Sunday. You thank the stars above that Eddie is back in your life, where he was always meant to be and you want him to be a permanent fixture there. You never, ever want to live another day without Eddie Munson in your life. You feel a tear prick your eyes and begin to trickle down your cheek, heading towards his bare chest. You quickly slide your hand across his chest, moving from his tattoo the where your cheek connects with his peck on the other side and wipe the tear before it can dampen his skin. You blink rapidly to clear the blur of tears threatening to spill, as heavy as the rain outside. You're not sure if they're sad tears, thinking about Eddie feeling unworthy of your friendship or if they're happy tears, because here you are laid up in his bed on a rainy Sunday morning. You hold his sleeping body tightly in your grip, lifting your head slowly to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.