the shire is burning [eddie munson x OC]

chapter forty nine

The first thing Willow should notice upon arriving to the not-party is her friend's costumes. All the boys are wearing subtle homemade costumes inspired by their D&D characters, even Lucas. Nancy is dressed in a comfortable take of Little Red Riding Hood, completely with a scarlet cape over her jeans and black knit sweater and a picnic basket functioning as her purse. Robin and Steve are donned in adorable matching looks, just like Willow and Eddie, except they drew inspiration from Grease clearly. But they haven't taken on the stereotypical roles that would be assigned to them; Robin is wearing Danny's final costume of a school cardigan and black v-neck, the large red R stitched into the front panel seeming fitting for her namesake as Steve is donned in a bad boy get-up inspired by Sandy's final look. He has on high-waisted leather pants she didn't even know he owned, along with a black t-shirt and his hair slicked back. There's a leather jacket he'd clearly discarded on the back of one of his dining room chairs. It reminded her of Eddie's - part of her wishes she'd seen him in it. But her wandering thoughts stop dead in their tracks when she catches his eyes.

Something's wrong with Steve.

His eyes are still faded pink around the rims. He greets Eddie before he does Willow. And even when he does greet her, he doesn't look her in her eyes. This was the boy she used to believe she knew like the back of her hand, and although she isn't so sure that she ever did know him that intimately, she does like to believe she still knows him well enough as a friend should. There's no chance for her to bring it up before they're being swept into the living room, everyone else also greeting them. In between hugs from Dustin and Robin, Willow sees him slip away soundlessly, heading towards his kitchen. When he returns to the room sometime later, he's sipping on a beer.

Something is definitely wrong.

The worry prickles at her the entire first hour of the not -party. She watches him stand silently the entire time as everyone debates on whether they should watch a movie or play a board game, avoiding sitting next to anybody despite the free seats beside both Willow and Robin. His cold shoulder, whether it be subconscious or deliberate, is extended beyond just her. She isn't sure what to do, or if anyone else has noticed. It makes her chest ache in subdued panic.

"What if we don't do either?" Nancy asks the groups, making Willow try and focus on the debate at hand.

"Of course you don't want to watch a scary movie," Mike snaps at his sister, "You don't have your stupid boyfriend here to cuddle up to when you get scared."

Right. Movie versus game. Fun.

Willow feels bad for not participating more, but the week has worn her down. There was the usual fatigue of getting back into school after spending a week off, but it didn't end there for Willow.

Parker's anniversary. It had been two days ago, and it had left her feeling numb.

She refused to talk to anybody about it. Even her own mother. Eddie had clearly been worried, he had spent the entire afternoon and evening with her. Each morning he'd looked at her with such care and such worry, her heart nearly shattered for him. He had so clearly wanted to be there for her, but something had stopped her from letting him in on her private ritual of grieving.

She didn't tell him about the panic attack she had during third period at school, how she had not only brought the Warheads candy for him but to utilize it in case that had happened. And when she was curled up in the girls' bathroom, sitting in her jeans on one of the toilets as she hyperventilated, it had worked wonders to refocus her. The painful sour took over the painful panic. For a second, she was gifted relief in a cruel form of torture. When he'd finally dropped her back off at her house that evening and left her alone with her thoughts, she had curled up and waited for the waterworks. She'd expected to be a sobbing mess. Or at least to shed a few tears over her brother, maybe dig through her memory box and feel the pain to remember that he had been real. He had once been something tangible, someone at her side, even if he was now gone. But all she had felt was empty. It was almost worse; not being able to cry about it hurt more than any sobs that had ever wrecked her body previous years.