One-shots and Imagines

Eddie Munson - You're the best

You and Eddie are in a flirtationship.

You would tease each other now and again, but you or he would never go that far.

You weren't really far enough in your relationship to call each other friends, but not enemies, but not frenemies, either.

It was complicated.

Today, he was drunk from the night before and still getting over his drunkenness.

It was lunch, at school, and you walked into the lunchroom.

"Oh, look, it's the whore," Eddie announced, jumping on the table, and looking straight at you.

"I-I'll just go-" you started.

"By all means, bitch, you can stay for as long as you like, 'cause you're just so fucking spoiled, aren't you? You need me to get your lunch for you, too? Or do you want me to fetch your butler to do it instead?" Eddie continued.

You walked back out the door and into the woods, at your and Eddie's hangout spot.

You sat on the picnic table, brought out your knife, rolled the sleeves of your denim jacket up, and started slitting your wrists.

You held your tears in as best as possible.

"Don't cry," you muttered, to yourself, wincing in pain, as you cut yourself again.

"Y/n?" you heard Eddie ask.

You quickly rolled your sleeves down and tossed the bloody knife across the picnic table.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

You looked at him cautiously.

"Don't worry, they injected me with...something to get rid of the drunkenness...?" he guessed, "Dustin told me I did something... not exactly nice... was it that bad?"

"No, no," you lied, "You didn't really do anything bad."

The blood from your wrists started to bleed through your jacked and drip down your hands.

You didn't notice the blood on your hands.

Eddie sat down next to you.

He grabbed the bloody knife in front of him.

"Mind if I keep this?" he asked, watching his plan fall into place.

"No, I-" you said, reaching for it, but, bringing your hand back when you saw the blood all over your fingers.

Before you could fully take your hand back, Eddie grasped your arm, above the wrists, and rolled your sleeves up.

You looked down, at your feet, with a guilty expression on your face.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" he asked.

You stayed silent for a moment.

"I just... hate myself and my life so fucking much," you muttered, "And I've come so close to ending it, but someone stopped me...every. Single. Time."

You avoided his eye contact.

"But you're so beautiful," he complained.

"You don't have to be nice, Ed, I know that's not true," you sighed.

"I promise you, I'm being 100%, completely honest," he said.

You shook your head 'no'.

"I am, honestly," he smiled.

You let a smile slip past your lips.

He put the knife down and scooted closer to you.

He put his arm around your shoulders.

You hugged him back tightly, your face buried in his chest.

"Thanks, Ed," you muttered, "You're the best."