Against all odds || Stranger Things 4 | Hellcheer

Chapter 27

Chrissy stares at her hand, still wrapped around Eddie, spoiled. She shivers, her mind blank apart from one thought - she did this - and the echo of Eddie's climatic groan. Then her brain switches back on and her mother's voice starts yelling how much of a disgrace she is. Other voices join in, asking what's going to happen now. What if Eddie wants to keep going, wants to take her clothes off? How is she going to explain to him she can't let him do that with the lights on, even though she wants him to touch her, to ease the pressure building up in her loins. Her mother screams in the back of her head, 'How could you do such thing with this delinquent?'

Eddie's voice snaps her back to reality. "I, uh..."

They move at the same time. He, to sit up, she, to take back her hand. 'Filthy!' 'Slut!' He looks down at her with shiny eyes, lips parted for he's still a little short of breath. Handsome. Hers. 'A delinquent!' When his hand finds its way back to her neck, thumb rubbing on her jaw, she squeezes her thighs together - where she craves for those fingers to go.

'Shame on you! First you eat right off the pan like a pig, now you want to be taken by one!'

As her mother keeps coming at her, Chrissy feels the familiar coil in her guts.

*

Through the rush of endorphins swarming his body, Eddie feels stupid for coming so quickly. Not like it's completely out of habit, but it's less embarrassing when both he and his hook-up are drunk or high. Or both. And Chrissy has been in his dreams for the past three days so it doesn't come as a surprise that he got so fired up he didn't even think of doing anything for her.

He wants to apologize. For being selfish. For pushing her maybe too harshly when he thought he was going to spill all over her face. But his brain is too hot-wired for him to produce a sentence. He just slips his hand along her jawline until he reaches the back of her neck. She squirms a little.

"Come up here," he manages to say in a raspy voice.

It's not too late to make it up to her. But he notices the shadow in her eyes that has nothing to do with arousal and before he can do or say anything, she bolts away. He hears a door, a lock. She's in the bathroom. He sighs and slumps back on the couch.

"Well done, Munson..."

He waits for two songs to play on the radio before going after her, hesitates a moment before knocking on the door and asks if she's okay. Only silence answers him, but he hears the flush, followed by water running from a tap and after what feels like an eternity, the lock. Chrissy appears, face down, fingers twisting.

"I'm sorry if I did something wrong," he blurts out.

"It's not you," she mumbles. "I...I think I ate too much."

Eddie frowns, thinking it's quite unlikely and wondering why she would lie to him. He feels hurt. Worried that he might be the reason she got sick.

"You know, we, uh...We don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"

She glances at him then back at her hands. He tentatively reaches out to touch her arm, anxious for her reaction. She looks up, meets his eyes. Hers are shiny when she says, "I'm such an idiot..."

Eddie steps closer and when she leans slightly toward him, wraps his arms around her.

"It's been a rough day."

Chrissy presses herself against him, cold hands flat on his bare chest.

"I wish she would stop ruining everything."

"Who?"

"...My mom."

His relief is almost shameful. He's not sure he understands how her mother affects her, not sure it's a good time to ask. But at least he didn't screw up! He pulls her closer and strokes her hair.

"That new color is really cool," he says before the silence becomes too heavy, even though what he really means to say is something deeper, more emotional. Something he's not sure he believes could happen to him.