the shire is burning [eddie munson x OC]

chapter fifty nine

WARNING: this chapter contains smut at the end. the final 4k words are literally just smut. proceed at your own risk, friends.

December twenty third. A Monday, the first day of winter break, the day before Christmas eve, and most importantly, the day of the Metallica show.

Willow had thought that it was odd to have a concert on a Monday night, specifically a metal concert, but she didn't voice the concern as she sat in Eddie's passenger seat during the drive to Indianapolis. Maybe it wasn't that odd considering Corroded Coffin performed every Tuesday. Maybe it was a thing for the community, to have their loud and rowdy shows on the weekdays as a way to 'stick it to the man'. Whoever the man was.

She looks down at the map in her lap, tracing her fingertip over the spot she'd circled in crimson red, "It should be up here on the right."

"The venue or the hotel?" Eddie asks her as he glances at her briefly, only a second before he returns his gaze back to the road in front of them. Indianapolis traffic was truly no joke compared to the quiet roads of Hawkins.

"The hotel," she explains, looking up at the passing shops, "The venue's a couple blocks over from it. That's okay, right?"

Eddie grins for her, still watching the roads as one of his hands leave the wheel and lands on her knee, giving a loving squeeze, "More than okay, sweetheart. You're running this show, I'm just along for the ride. Anything you say goes."

She scoffs immediately, enjoying the warmth of his palm and slipping her own hand over his. He retracts it quickly, hissing at the contrast of her cold fingers.

"Fuck, why is your hand so cold?"

"Because it's December and your van's heater is shit," she complains lightheartedly, leaning forward to fiddle with the air knobs once more. The vents continue to only offer mildly warm air, nothing against the sharp bite of outside air, "If anything I say goes, then I'm saying you need to get it fixed before Christmas."

He reaches back out and takes her hand in his, pulling it to his lap, sharing the radiating heat coming from his body with her. "That's expensive. I'll just look at it when we get back."

"Eddie the mechanic," she laughs under her breath, "I can see it now - your hands all covered in grease, crying to me because you cut your finger on some hot metal I could have told you not to touch."

"I would not cry about some cut on my finger."

"You definitely would. You'd probably make me kiss it better."

"And would you?" he grins in her direction as they roll to a stop at a redlight, "Would you kiss it better?"

She can't even feign annoyance when he looks at her like this, lighting fire to her chest as she lets the beautiful flames illuminate her from the inside out, "I might. It would probably take some convincing, though."

"How much convincing are we talking? Cause the papercut I got a few days ago still kind of hurts."

She laughs, but he persists as the light turns green, glancing wildly between her and the road as he lifts his hand towards her mouth, being a pest on purpose as she tries to swat his fingers away. He eventually wears her down, though, and she looks over them until she finds the thin, pink line over the pad of his pinky and presses her lips to it gently.

"Wow. You should be a doctor. Instant cure," he mocks, bringing the pinky to his face and squinting at it, "Actually, I think it might need another kiss. Just to be sure."