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rupertgilesarc · 3 years ago

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Risks Worth Taking 1/2

Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 2 here The reader takes Zemo's philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Slow burn. Will be posted in 2 parts because it exceeds the text block limit. Apx. 4k words. Massive thank you to @scuttle-buttle and @exit-goat for helping beta this <3

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, D*vil's advocate student says some pretty misogynistic things (his comments are not tolerated) That's everything I think, let me know if you want me to add something!!

It is far safer to be feared than loved if you cannot be both is what the chalkboard at the front of the lecture hall reads. She sits at the front of the class reading the words repeatedly, mulling them over before the lecture has even begun. Why can one not be both? Why should anyone be feared at all, should we not all just strive to be loved? Questions and disagreements on the topic rattle around her head. Perhaps the professor is trying to strike fear in his students, she thinks.

She’s heard of the professor around campus, heard tales of his unforgiving marking strategies and brooding persona. But, he doesn’t look anything like she had expected. Not old and round and worn out like all the other professors she’s had. He’s at his desk reading through a notebook, brows furrowed in concentration, looking between the pages and the screen of his laptop, he doesn’t acknowledge any of the students as they file in. At exactly 5:00 pm he stands and dims the lights in the hall, leaving only the light at the front of the room where he stands.

“Good evening, I am professor Helmut Zemo. This is Intro to European Philosophy: The Birth of Machiavellianism. From experience I’ll assume none of you have done the readings yet, so we’ll begin this class summarizing--” he continues on but she loses focus instead interested in trying to place his accent.

“It is important that you pay attention,” his voice fades back in and she finds herself sitting up straighter her face warming feeling as though he might be talking to her. “A large majority of what you learn in this class will not be from readings, or from my opinions, but rather from the way you learn to debate and converse with your peers and myself”.

It’s at this point she realizes she’s the only person sitting in the front row, dear god, she thinks, I guess the rest of the class actually heeded the warnings they were given.

With another push of a button behind his desk, the projector screen is rolled down, the last light in the room dimmed too, the course outline now displayed in large Times New Roman.

Week 1: Introduction to “The Prince” Week 2: Chapters 1-5 Conquered free states, with their own laws and orders Week 3: Chapter 6-9 Totally new states Week 4: Chapters 10-13 Strength and Defense Week 5: Chapters 14-15 Reputation of a Prince Mid-term paper due Winter break Week 6: Chapters 16-19 Perception of a Prince Week 7: chapters 20-25 Prudence Week 8: The influence of Machiavellianism through history Spring Break Week 9: Modern applications and interpretations Final Exam

“A more detailed breakdown of the course including due dates for quizzes and essays will be posted on your online learning platform. I will also post the slides for each class the night before, though I do expect you still attend each lecture. My generosity is a courtesy, not a given”.

At least he’s honest she thinks.

“Now, by a show of hands, how many of you are familiar with the prince?” and class begins.

***

It’s the second week of class and she’s 20 minutes early. No one is in the lecture hall so she takes her seat, the same as last week. Professor Zemo wasn’t that scary after all, and besides it’s easier to make notes near the front closer to the light reflecting off the projector. She takes off her coat and settles in, organizing her notebooks and going over the passages of the book she highlighted during her reading again.

“You’re early,” his voice startles her from her thoughts.

“Sorry, I thought it would be okay-- no one was in here so I--” “It’s quite alright,” he interrupts her rambling apologies, “There’s still another fifteen minutes before class starts, you’re welcome to go get coffee like the rest of your classmates”. “No, thank you. If it’s alright, I’m just reviewing my notes”.

He nods. “Any questions?” “Many,” she responds.

He smirks, “good”. And with that, he makes his way to his desk unpacking his shoulder bag.

“If a prince does not destroy a city he may expect to be destroyed by it,” she mumbles beneath her breath as she transcribes her highlighted passages to notes. Her voice is quiet but in the silent room, he hears it clearly.

“You’ve done your reading I see.”

She only nods returning to her work.

“Despite Machiavelli’s beliefs, sometimes, being destroyed isn’t the worst option-- especially if one is expecting it,” he replies.

She considers his point. Maybe it’s the anticipation of destruction rather than the destruction itself that we fear. She’s unable to make her comment before other students start filing in, coffees in hand.

“ Machiavelli said, ‘if an injury is to be done to a man, it should be so severe that the prince is not in fear of revenge’. A bold statement, and perhaps one of his most famous principles that came out of the prince. I’d like to hear your thoughts,” he addresses the class, his accent Sokovian, she’s finally able to place it. She remembers hearing the accent a lot on the news a couple of years back when the country collapsed. “Yes, back row there,” the professor selects a student to share.

“I’d like to play devil's advocate for a second,” the man at the back of the class speaks up, and she can feel her eyes roll, it takes almost everything in her to not comment on it.

“I think he’s right -- Machiavelli. Sometimes to succeed you need to step on some other people on the way up”.

“A common opinion, yes. But must one do so in a way that the other person has no opportunity to succeed themselves?”

“Of course!” the guy at the back of the class laughs, “Some people are meant to succeed, some are meant to fail. Some men are just weak. Is that not just the way life works?”

She bites her tongue, her irritation at the other student growing.

The professor chuckles to himself, leaning on the edge of his desk, arms crossed as he thinks, “I don’t know. Is it?” He looks back over the lecture hall looking for any new hands that may have been raised.

She makes a note Machiavelli was a coward.

“It is true that throughout history many a man has taken it upon himself to cause harm in order to better himself. But, might it be possible that there are more reasonable and more fair ways to succeed? Does it not say more about the weakness of a man who chooses to inflict pain than it does about the people who are subjected to it?” Zemo continues, hoping to raise more discussion.

Another student raises their hand. The professor calls on them. But, she looks up from her notebook to see Zemo looking at her while he listens to the other student’s point. She returns to making her notes.

Machiavelli was a coward.

Is there not much more substance to a person who can succeed without harming their “competition”

If one is so brave, why would they be frightened of the revenge of the person they hurt.

Why act if you are unwilling to face repercussions?

She puts her pen down only for it to roll off the desk. Fuck, that was my favourite pen, she thinks.

Rummaging through her bag she attempts to find another pen. She catches the shadow of his figure out the corner of her eye, the professor placing the dropped pen carefully on top of her open notes.

“Thank you,” she mumbles nearly silently, the other student still speaking. The professor offers a nod and a tight-lipped smile before returning to his desk once more.

After some more mundane commentary from her peers completely misunderstanding the reading, and Professor Zemo trying his best to steer the conversation towards deeper and more productive dialogue, the class comes to an end. She’s finishing putting her coat on again and the professor is putting his things back in his shoulder bag. Her peers have filed out of the room muttering between themselves about how the class is so boring. His voice stops her on the way out of the room,

“You make interesting notes. It would be to the advantage of myself and your peers to hear your intelligent appraisals”.

“You speak as if my peers have an interest in understanding views beyond their own”.

He laughs, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder, he makes his way towards the door, the two of them standing in the doorway. “Perhaps not; another astute observation. But, still, should you wish to contribute, your opinions are gladly welcomed ” he smiles, “goodnight”.

Week three; she’s late for class. Her class on the other side of campus ran late, and just her luck it began pouring rain the second she stepped foot outside. She slipped and fell in a puddle, her jeans stained by mud. With 10 minutes left before the start of class, she thought she’d have enough time to clean herself up in the washroom, but the one closest to the lecture hall was closed for cleaning and she was forced to use the one on the second floor. It takes longer than she’d like to try to scrub the dirt on her pants with wet paper towels and even longer to try to dry them off even a little bit under the soft blowing of the hand dryer. When she makes it to class, the professor has already started his slides. She chooses to sit in one of the seats closer to the door rather than front and centre in her usual seat, as not to disrupt the class. The snickers of the idiot boys in the back row don’t go unnoticed by her as she sits down.

She takes a moment to compose herself, focusing on the slide on the projector.

Of Those Who Have Obtained a Principality Through Crimes.

It seems useless to take out her notebook today, the pages probably soaked through with rain. Instead, she finds herself content just listening to Zemo’s summary of the chapter.

“Machiavelli calls upon potential princes to be ruthless in their pursuit for power if they chose to obtain a principality by wickedness. But he focuses on the need for strategizing to strike all at once, rather than hesitate. He speaks of the potential subjects as if they are-- wild animals, as if they are prey,” the professor speaks, “He says that people will forgive cruelty if it is swift and strategic, that a prince may slowly gain favour once the deed is done, but a prince who hesitates must remain vigilant as people will see his weakness. I am curious about your opinions of a man who speaks in such a way”.

The devil’s advocate strikes again raising his hand, and it takes almost everything in her to not smack her head off the desk in front of her.

“A man who has not asserted dominance will not gain respect, but a man who acknowledges his power and uses it to his advantage--strategically, of course, will succeed. Some people are born to be controlled and will give in to a man who is dominant enough to get it. There’s a natural order to things like this. Take women for example; were things not better when women knew it was the men who were in charge?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” her own outburst startles her, but she doesn’t stop, “Machiavelli was a paranoid man who raved about power and never truly had any in any meaningful way. You idolize a coward who advocates for spending time strategizing how to cause harm. His advice goes to extremes to justify acts that prevent facing consequences of any kind. He speaks of manipulation and domineering, cunningness for one's own gain-- there’s a reason Machiavellianism is part of the dark triad in psychology. The glorification of extreme self-interest and lack of morality is disgusting”.

The boy stares back at her in shock, and she realizes that she stood and turned to face him at the back of the room at some point. Her heart races and she can hear her blood rushing in her ears, her rage far from gone. Without a second thought, she’s grabbing her bag and rushing from the lecture hall.

There’s a moment as she’s storming through the campus hallways that she feels embarrassed; unable to believe her own ebullition. No, she thinks to herself taking a deep breath and slowing her walking speed, she focuses on relaxing her shoulders and unclenching her jaw, I’m not the one in the wrong here.

It’s week four. Twenty-five minutes into his lecture and her seat is still vacant. He finds himself feeling worried, which he wouldn’t have expected. An hour into his lecture he has accepted that it is unlikely she will be coming today. He finds himself now concerned.

There’s chatter at the back of the room, and while usually, he would ignore it making a mental note to make the questions on the mid-term more difficult, today he chooses to say something.

“I thought because you were on academic probation you might have a little more interest in the course material-- attempt to actually understand the content,” he addresses the boy at the back of the room,

“Stop your talking and pay attention, or kindly leave the room and request your withdrawal from my class”.

The room is silent, and he can feel the eyes of all the students on him, their attention pulled away from their cellphones and laptops and private conversations.

“Am I understood?” the professor asks.

The class stays silent, but their attention turns to the student Zemo addresses, waiting anxiously to hear his response. Cocky as ever the guy shakes his head laughing under his breath as he grabs his things, storming down the stairs to the front of the hall and out the room. “Anyone else?” the professor asks, eyebrow raised, “Wonderful. Now, as I was saying; you have an essay due week five. It should be on my desk at the beginning of class. Your essay topics have been posted on the online learning portal”.

She lies in bed a small pile of tissues growing on her nightstand, laptop balanced on her chest and she reads through the slides from Professor Zemo’s class. A sudden coughing fit interrupts her reading and she decides that she’ll finish tomorrow before she starts her essay. She needs sleep, after being ill for nearly a week after that rainstorm while taking the time to get better has been necessary, she can’t help but feel sad that she’s missing her favourite class today. And even worse, she realizes there was a quiz today. Damn it.

The next morning she drags herself out of bed. Her head is still pounding, but it’s no longer blinding pain. She still has the sniffles too, but her cough is much better than it had been, and she finds she’s able to speak without feeling like she’s swallowed glass. She checks her school email hoping that the professor has responded to her email enquiry about what to do since she missed the quiz. No such luck; instead the school’s network is down. Double damn it.

Bundled in her cosiest sweater and leggings she owns, she manages to make herself look half presentable, grabbing her bag and laptop and heading out the door. Professors Zemo’s office hours are 10 am -2 pm today, she checks her phone to find that it’s nearly 1:30 already. The day just keeps getting better and better.

He’s trying to think about what he actually has in the fridge to eat when he gets home, and settles on the reality that he’s probably going to end up ordering in again tonight. Slipping out of his office, his bag slung over one shoulder he’s about to lock the door when,

“Fuck!” her exclamation echos around the empty hallway. He chuckles to himself, turning to look at the owner of the voice. “Sorry--I didn’t think--It wasn’t supposed to be that loud. Sorry,” she rambles.

“It’s fine. I too have found, no matter how many languages I learn, sometimes the only appropriate word at the moment is ‘fuck’. It gets right to the point,” his statement and small smile help to quell her embarrassment. He reopens the door to his office holding it open, “Here, come in”.

“Are you sure? You were on your way out-- I don’t want to keep you from your plans”.

“I have no plans. Besides, you’re the only student I’ve had in a long time who has actually bothered to come and see me after they missed a test. I owe you the courtesy”.

She bites the inside of her lip before nodding and making her way into the office. She sits in one of the leather armchairs in front of his desk peering around the room at the walls of books and maps; stacks of papers on the intricately carved oak desk.

“You didn’t miss much,” he tells her putting his bag down and shrugging off his coat, “and I’m happy to let you do the test now if you chose, I haven’t finished marking the rest of your classes yet”. “Thank you”.

“Not a problem,” he begins digging through one of his drawers, he slides a 3 page collated test across to her and sets another stack of papers on the desk, “Actually, I confess I’ve been procrastinating doing this marking, so I should be thanking you”.

“I don’t imagine it’s easy reading other people’s opinions all day”. “On the contrary-- I love reading other people’s opinions, it’s the lack of opinions that I dread”.

She nods. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?” He motions to the cup on his desk stuffed full of pens and pencils, taking one for himself.

She reads through the quiz setting to work, not finding the questions too difficult. “Sorry-- Professor, do you have a copy of the book I can borrow?”

“You apologise a lot,” he tilts his head looking at her for a moment and she feels like he’s staring straight through her, “there’s a copy on the shelf over there...should be the fourth shelf from the bottom right-hand side”.

She makes her way to the shelf fingers tracing the spines of each book; Bronte, Tolstoy, Hemingway, Freud, Jung, Fitzgerald, Woolf, Orwell, Poe, Plato, Aristotle; the panoply of books and authors go on and on, each cover more worn than the last, paperbacks well-loved with cracked spines and flaking covers, leather-bound first editions. She finds The Prince, as read as the others red leather and gold leaf. She almost feels bad taking it off the shelf, she realizes it’s most definitely his personal copy.

“Did you find it?” his voice startles her from her thoughts.

“Yeah, thank you. It’s a beautiful copy”.

He nods, turning back to his marking.

She’s just starting on the second page of the test when her stomach rumbles. It’s silent this time, but she can feel it and she knows that it’s only a matter of time before it happens again and probably louder. Being sick she hasn’t been hungry for a while, but it dawns on her that she hasn’t had anything to eat all day. She writes faster hoping to finish her test before her growling stomach becomes noticeable. Of course, no such luck. It’s only a few minutes later when it happens again, and just as predicted it’s louder. If he hears it he doesn’t say anything.

He does hear it. But he ignores it, grading his way through mindless ramblings from students who haven’t bothered to read the chapters at all, most of them coming nowhere close to answering the test questions in an intelligent form. He’s used to it though, after teaching the class for three years, it’s what he’s come to expect. Her stomach rumbles again and he looks up to see her clutching her belly and staring down as if to tell her body to shut up. It reminds him that he should eat something himself.

Before thinking it through too much he says,

“I was thinking of ordering some Chinese food. Do you want some?”

“No, I couldn’t--I don’t want to intrude”. “Please--I won’t say I insist, but we’re both hungry and I’m ordering for myself”.

“Okay. But only because I’m still working on this test, and I’m worried I’ll parish before I do”. He laughs, “I apologise, my tests do tend to run on the long side”.

She smiles.

It’s much later when tests have been put aside in favour of boxes of Chow Mein, Spring Rolls and Sweet and Sour chicken. Casual conversation flows; the stiff shroud of academia dropped if only for a moment.

“So, you’re not a philosophy major. I realize I’ve never had you in any of my other classes. I teach first-year ‘introduction to’, as well”.

She nods, “I’m not. I’m working on my masters now. Your class just seemed like the most interesting breadth elective”.

“And is it?” He smirks, taking another bite of his food.

“I was honestly hoping for some more intelligent discord, but most of the class has proved to be insufferable”.

“I am afraid I’d be a poor professor if I agreed with you--but I will not argue” he laughs.

He has a good laugh. A laugh that feels like genuine joy. It feels special coming from a man who rarely even cracks a smile. She allows herself to feel something akin to pride.

“I can only imagine how some of the other students answered these questions,” she sighs putting down her container of rice to pick up her own test, she flips through it rereading her answers, “I think I’m done by the way,” she says sliding the papers across the desk to him.

“I look forward to reading your responses”.

She tries to ignore the feeling of warmth that spreads up the back of her neck and across her cheeks.

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?” he tilts his head.

“Sorry--never mind”.

“No, please-- go ahead. Ask”. “Sokovia”. He smiles softly, “No one ever asks”.

“I’m sorry—I don’t mean to—“

“It’s alright. But yes, I do miss it. Very much”.

She nods, “I’m sorry it’s gone”.

“So am I,” he smiles sadly.

------

She checks her phone, 9:05pm.

“I should get going,” she sighs collecting her things.

Their conversation had shifted from his class to his home, to her major and her interests. They spent time talking about politics, art, religion. The conversation flowed easily; Two minds equally matched. But glancing out the window, the sun has set and she doesn't look forward to the walk to the bus stop in the dark.

“Did you drive here?” He asks collecting his own things, “did you want me to walk you to your car?”

“No, I took transit actually”.

“Does it run at this time?”

She nods, “it's not so bad. It's walking across campus that makes me nervous”

He nods, “I don't mean to be forward--but would you like a ride home?”

“Oh--I couldn't. I don't want to be a bother”

“Not a bother. I assure you. I must admit I'm not sure I'd be able to sleep very well not knowing if you got home safe after leaving here--” he stutters for a moment, “what I mean to say is, I know the campus isn't the best place to be at night. It's not an inconvenience to make sure you get home okay”.

Weighing her options she nods, “okay, I appreciate it”.

The walk to the car is silent and mildly awkward. Neither entirely sure what to say. Outside the air is chilly now that the sun has gone down, a shiver runs up her spine and she’s reminded that she has not fully recovered from her sickness yet.

He notices her shivers and makes a mental note to make sure he puts the heat on in the car.

She’s not shocked when he guides her towards the Mercedes Benz. Inside, leather seats, illuminated dashboard, wool carpets. She withholds a smirk as she buckles herself in. Of course, he has an expensive car.

“I didn’t know professors were paid this well,” she comments. She mentally scolds herself, what a stupid thing to say.

He laughs though, “some do. I personally am fortunate via family inheritance, however”.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry--”.

“It’s alright,” he assures her buckling his own belt and starting the car, “Your wit and curiosity are welcomed wholeheartedly”. He adjusts the heat turning it up before pulling out of the parking lot.

“You’ll have to tell me where I am going, I’m afraid I have not yet truly learned my way around this city”.

“In that case, I’ll also point out all the good coffee spots,” she smiles.

When they arrive in front of her apartment she sighs, “thank you again. You really didn’t have to”. “Please,” he stops her, “It was my pleasure. I needed a new place to get my coffee”.

“Have a goodnight Professor,” she smiles grabbing her bag. “Please, call me Helmut”.

She nods opening the door and stepping out, “goodnight Helmut”.

He smiles as she turns to shut the door behind her, “Remember you have a paper due next class”.

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” she laughs.

He makes sure she gets inside alright before driving off. As he makes his way home there’s a nagging feeling settling in his chest. A tugging at his heart like a loose thread on a sweater sleeve. He tries his best to ignore it. Part 2 here

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rupertgilesarc · 3 years ago

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Damn bruh

All Too Well // Eddie Munson

request: none

prompts: none

summary: when you started dating eddie, it was the happiest time of your life. but as time went on, eddie started acting different. and the bond between the two of you suffered because of it.

warnings: language, mentions of drinking and drugs, mentions of drug addiction and substance abuse, chrissy’s eating disorder is mentioned briefly, self image issues, allusions to smut, eddie being an asshole, crying, hints at cheating, and a whole lotta heartbreak

word count: 11.6k

a/n: very off character for eddie, does not follow the plot of season four at all, starcourt didn’t burn down, gn!reader, i know it says he’s an asshole in the warnings but he’s not like that the whole time! there’s also no spoilers for season four!

this is the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i’m so incredibly proud of it! i hope you enjoy it!! :)

I walked through the door with you, the air was cold

But something 'bout it felt like home somehow

And I left my scarf there at your sister's house

And you've still got it in your drawer, even now

“Come on! Hurry up!” you called behind you as you ran towards Eddie’s trailer.

The two of you had thought it would be fun to go ice skating on Lover’s Lake, but the gentle snowfall soon grew heavier, and the thought of staying outside any longer made you feel like you were going to develop frostbite. Of course you both had the bright idea to walk to the lake, and now had to run back to Eddie’s trailer for shelter.

Your lungs burned, and your cheeks and the tip of your nose were going numb, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Though the date hadn’t been what you had planned, having to watch Eddie struggle to run in the snow was quite amusing. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle either.

When he finally caught up to you, Eddie unlocked the door and you both pushed inside, feeling the warmth of the trailer against your near frozen skin.

“It’s really coming down out there. I’m not sure you’ll be able to get home tonight,” Eddie said as he peeked through the blinds on the window.

You simply smiled as you pulled your scarf off, tossing it away not noticing nor caring where it went, you could always find it later.

“So, impromptu sleepover?” you asked, giggles breaking in through your words.

Eddie ran over to you and tackled you in a hug, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hissed at how cold his lips were, but you didn’t pull away.

“I like the way you think! I’ll make hot cocoa. Why don’t you pick out some movies?”

You nodded, a bright smile ever present on your face, and walked over to the stacks of VHS tapes scattered around the television. Excitedly, you searched through them, finding some of your favorites, and grabbing some of Eddie’s too.

Tonight was gonna be amazing.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate

Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

And I can picture it after all these days

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you said as you cranked up the volume on Eddie’s car radio.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you, feeling a smile begin to grow on his face.

“You like Metallica?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah! You never shut up about them, so I figured I might as well listen to them. Now I get it though, they’re really good!”

“And just when I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect!”

You laughed at his statement before turning your attention back to the radio. You didn’t know all the words, considering you had only heard the song a few times before. You tried your best to sing along, mumbling whenever you didn’t know the words.

Eddie smiled over at you, and soon enough he began singing along with you. Neither of you sounded any good, but you didn’t care. It was the most fun you’d had all day, having been stuck in a car heading to who knows where. Eddie said he wanted to go on a road trip without a destination. And while that seemed like a perfectly good way to get lost, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no given how excited he was.

When the song finally ended, you didn’t want to stop singing along. Eddie knew all the words to the next song, but you, having never heard it before, made up your own words, much to Eddie’s amusement.

“Making your own remix I see,” he said in between laughs.

“Damn right. It’s the new and improved version.”

“Well I wouldn’t say improved.”

“Excuse me?” You turned to face him, face growing hot with laughter.

The rest of the car ride was filled with awful singing, terrible jokes, and fits of never ending laugh that made both of your sides hurt.

And I know it's long gone and

That magic's not here no more

And I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

You sat at a table at Scoops Ahoy, impatiently tapping your fingers against the surface. You and Eddie were supposed to meet for an ice cream date almost an hour ago, but he was nowhere to be seen. You had just about given up hope, and were debating on whether or not to just go home, when you finally saw Eddie walking towards you.

“Where were you?” you asked him as he sat down next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I was just about to leave,” you replied, hurt evident on your face.

“But I thought you said we were meeting at four?”

“Eddie, it's almost five.”

“Is it?” He checked his watch, and sure enough it read 4:57. “I’m sorry sweetheart, Hellfire ran long again, guess I just didn’t realize what time it was.”

You sighed and nodded. This is the third time this month he’d been late. It was starting to feel as if he’d rather be with his friends than with you. You didn’t mind it when he hung out with other people, but this was supposed to be your time together. And he kept spending it with people who weren’t you. It felt like he was starting to not care as much anymore.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street

You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking' over at me

Wind in my hair, I was there

I remember it all too well

“Eddie stop!” you yelled at him, jerking his attention back to the road.

Eddie quickly slammed on the breaks, stopping the car before running through the red light. Your eyes were wide as you looked ahead at the cars crossing through the intersection. You turned to look over at Eddie, only to find him looking at you with a slightly amused expression.

“Why didn’t you stop?” you asked, shoving his shoulder playfully.

“I was looking at something much more interesting than the road,” he retorted.

You felt your face grow hot when you realized what he was referring to.

“You can ogle me later Eddie! I’d really prefer to not get into a crash,” you replied, feeling laughter bubble up in your throat despite yourself.

“Fine, fine, fine! I’ll pay attention to the road,” he jokingly grumbled.

You laughed once more and leaned over to rest your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him, smiling.

“I love you, you dork.”

You kept your gaze on him, waiting for any sort of reaction. But he simply kissed your forehead without looking down at you. Even though you were the one who told him to keep his eyes on the road, it left you feeling a little deflated. You brushed it off, telling yourself that he must not have heard you. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that kept thinking otherwise.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red

You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed

And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team

You told me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

“Eddie, guess what I found?” Eddie’s uncle said as he walked towards the couch you and Eddie were sitting on.

In his hand he held a book that sort of looked like a photo album. Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands, seeming to recognize it instantly. His reaction only made you even more intrigued in the book, and its contents.

“What is it?” you asked, turning to Eddie.

He didn’t answer you, and instead continued to grumble into his hands.

“It’s his baby photos,” Mr. Munson said teasingly as he sat down next to you on the couch.

“Ooooh! I wanna see,” you said, excitement filling you at the thought of seeing how adorable Eddie looked as a baby.

“No, please don’t,” he whined, finally looking over at you and his uncle.

“Too late,” you replied with a smirk on your face.

Mr. Munson handed you the album, and you pulled in open, looking over all the photos. Your smile only grew wider as you took in all the adorableness. There was a photo of Eddie covered in spaghetti, having thrown it everywhere instead of actually eating it. Another one was of him in the bathtub with a beard made out of bubbles.

“Oh my god, you were so cute!” You giggled as you elbowed Eddie in the side.

His cheeks grew red at your words, and he desperately tried to pull the photo album out of your hands, but you moved it away and continued flipping through it, watching as he grew older in the photos.

“Ohhh, so this was the infamous buzzcut era,” you joked as you saw Eddie’s eighth grade yearbook photo.

Eddie only continued grumbling and pouting as you and Wayne continued flipping through the pictures, and continuing to poke fun at Eddie the whole time.

And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy"

Key chain on the ground, we were always skipping town

And I was thinking on the drive down, any time now

He's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was

“Eddie, can we talk?” you asked, turning to look over at him.

He kept his gaze on the road, but nodded to let you know he was listening.

You paused for a second, debating whether or not to go through with what you wanted to say.

“How come you never say you love me?”

You could feel the tension in the car grow as soon as the words left your mouth. Eddie still never looked over to you, but you noticed his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed to yourself before continuing, “I’ve been saying that I love you for a few months now, but you’ve never once said it back. I used to think you just kept not hearing me, but I know you have. You’ve heard it every time. Why don’t you say it back? Do you not love me?” Your voice broke as you finished speaking, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s all you have to say? Eddie, how can you not know whether or not you love me? We’ve been together for almost a year! Do you really not feel anything?”

“What do you want from me y/n? I said I don’t know! Can’t you give me some time to figure out my feelings?”

“I’ve given you time! I’ve given you months! Ever since I first told you that I loved you, I waited and waited for you to finally say it back! But you never do! And it hurts Eddie. It hurts so much.”

“Well I’m sorry that it hurts you, but I can’t just wake up and suddenly decide that I love you!”

His words were the last straw, and your tears finally spilled over. You reached up and tried to hurriedly wipe them away, not wanting to make a big deal out of them.

“Well if you don’t love me then why are we even together?” you shouted, all your pain and hurt bubbling up to your surface and spilling over.

“I don’t know,” he said sadly.

You looked out the window, not wanting to see him right now. Even though neither of you confirmed it, you could just feel that it was over. And you brought it upon yourself. If only you had just stayed quiet, and waited. Maybe things would’ve been better. But here you were, sobbing your heart out on a road in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a car with Eddie. When all you wanted to was be back home in your bed, away from him.

'Til we were dead and gone and buried

Check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same

After three months in the grave

And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you

But all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame

“Y/n, I’m sorry. Please just talk to me. I miss you.”

You stared at your ceiling, listening to the voicemail Eddie had left you. It had been almost a month since you both had called it quits, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even begin to move on. And here he was, calling you up and apologizing. You knew it was never a good idea to get back with your ex, especially considering how things ended. But in the moment, all you could remember were the good moments of your relationship.

Running through the snow together and then spending all night cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and watching horror movies. Singing along horribly to the radio and making up your own words when you didn’t know them. Looking through his baby photos and calling him adorable just to see him blush.

You couldn’t bring yourself to remember all the times he showed up late, the growing distance between the two of you, the fact that he never once said how he truly felt about you. But in the moment, when you could only remember the good times, you couldn’t find a way to stop yourself from picking up your phone and calling him back. Consequences be damned, you missed Eddie, and you still loved him. And there was no way in hell you’d pass up a chance to get him back.

You sat up and reached for your phone, dialing the number you’ve called so many times. The phone rang a few times, and your heart was pounding so loud you could hear it. Finally the phone was picked up on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Eddie? It’s me.”

And I know it's long gone and

There was nothing else I could do

And I forget about you long enough

To forget why I needed to

As the weeks went on, you started to remember why things had ended with Eddie.

When you first got back together, things were amazing. You were happy again, and the two of you went back to how you used to be almost immediately. You didn’t care about the heartache he caused, or all the self-loathing thoughts. You finally had him back, and you didn’t want to think about the bad memories ever again.

But soon he started showing up to things late again. He never even acknowledged it, and he just went about as if you hadn’t been waiting for his arrival for over an hour. And he grew more distant again. There were less meaningful conversations, and car rides were spent in silence, except for the low hum of the radio.

You could feel rifts beginning to grow between the two of you, but you didn’t want to acknowledge them. You just wanted to be with Eddie, even if it meant forcing yourself to pretend to be happy. You didn’t realize just how much he was hurting you, because even throughout all the shit he put you through, your relationship still had its good moments. And you decided to blindly follow those moments, pushing down everything he did that hurt you.

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night

We're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light

Down the stairs, I was there

I remember it all too well

You were sat on the couch in Eddie’s living room, crying. You had just had another meaningless fight, and they were seeming to become more and more common as the time went on. You still loved Eddie, part of you thought you always would, but that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt every time you were caught in a screaming match.

You heard the door to his bedroom open, and you looked up to see Eddie walking towards you. His face held a solemn expression, one similar to the look on yours. Wordlessly, he grabbed your hands and pulled you up and into his embrace.

“Dance with me,” he said, beginning to sway the two of you.

“But there isn’t any music playing.”

“Who cares about that? We can make our own music.”

Eddie began humming a tune you recognized, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. You did your best to hum along with him as the two of you danced around the living room. Your tears subsided, and you felt yourself relax into his embrace.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he whispered softly.

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him tighter.

You could feel your sadness melt away, and all you could focus on was Eddie. How his thumbs gently rubbed circles in your back. How he pressed kisses along your hairline, while still humming the song. How his arms tightened around you when you pulled him closer. It’s like he knew exactly how to make you feel better. And even though you were mad at him earlier, you couldn’t be more grateful to be in his embrace.

And there we are again when nobody had to know

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Sacred prayer and we'd swear

To remember it all too well, yeah

You were sitting next to Eddie on the couch, the rest of his friends surrounding the two of you. There was some movie that Eddie had finally gotten on VHS and they were all dying to see it. Eddie invited you along too, not wanting you to feel upset since Saturday was usually your date night.

You brushed off your feelings about the change of plans, and focused on how excited Eddie looked. You didn’t even know what the movie you were watching was, nor what it was about, but you didn’t care. You had spent most of the duration of the movie admiring Eddie, and the excitement that flashed across his face throughout the movie.

You slipped your hand over to his, placing it on top and grasping it. But a few moments later, he pulled his hand away. Your heart shattered at the action as you watched him place his hand in his lap, away from you.

You turned away and looked at the ground beneath your feet, willing yourself not to cry. Not here. Not now, in front of everybody. Despite your efforts, you could feel your hot tears begin to fall past your eyes. You blinked hard a few times to push them out before mumbling some excuse and heading towards the bathroom.

Locking the door behind you, you placed your hands on the sink and looked at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were turning red and puffy, silent tears falling freely down your face. He pulled away from you. Despite everything, all of the shit he had put you through, all the fights, everything, never once had he pulled away from you before. Nothing else he had done had hurt as much as this.

You couldn’t stand to look at your reflection anymore, and instead leaned against the door, slowly sliding down until you were crumpled in a ball on the floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, letting yourself sob freely.

Well, maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece

'Til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was there

I remember it all too well

“You pulled away! Why did you pull away from me?”

After all of Eddie’s friends had left, he had finally noticed that you hadn’t returned from the bathroom. He knocked on the door, and when he opened it he could tell that you were crying. He asked why, and your feelings exploded out, causing you to yell at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you do! During the movie I grabbed your hand and you pulled away? Why didn’t you want to hold my hand? Did you not want your friends to see it?”

“I don’t know, I just did! Why would I care if they saw us holding hands? They all know we’re dating!”

“Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?” you asked again, softer this time, tears threatening to fall for a second time that night.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to hold your hand! I just pulled away! Does it really even matter?”

“Yes Eddie, it does matter! You’ve never pulled away from me before! We’re growing apart again!” Tears were streaming down your face at this point, all the pain you had felt earlier that night returning once more.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of it! So what if I pulled away? It doesn’t matter! Why do you always have to start fights?”

“Oh, I’m the one starting fights? You never pay attention to me anymore! It’s like I’m not even there! You pick apart every little thing I do! It’s like I’m never good enough for you anymore! You always find something that I’m doing that’s wrong! You always feel the need to fix things that don’t need to be fixed!”

“God, what are you even talking about? Listen to yourself, you’re not making any sense!”

“I can’t do this anymore, Eddie! I’m tired of feeling worthless all the time! I’m tired of you acting like I’m not even there! I’m tired of you starting fights over nothing!”

Eddie fell silent for a moment. You felt hopeful, thinking that maybe, somehow you talked some sense into him. And maybe everything could finally go back to how it used to be. But your new found hope was short lived.

“Fine. If that’s how you really feel, then maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Eddie,” you said barely above a whisper, feeling your very being shatter.

He didn’t say anything else, not having anything else to say. You both stood there in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of everything you both had just said crash down on top of you. After a while, it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything to you anymore. You slowly walked over to the door, and turned around to look at him one last time before leaving, but he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Goodbye, Eddie.”

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

'Cause I remember it all, all, all

“Please let me in. I’m sorry,” Eddie said from the other side of your door.

Your parents had let him into your house, not understanding the way things were left between the two of you. So here Eddie was, standing outside of your bedroom door, begging you to give him another chance.

“Things will be different this time, I promise. Just please, talk to me. I miss you so much. Open the door, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence and you could hear muffled cries coming from the other side of your door.

Just the thought of him crying made your heart ache. It hurt to know that you were the reason behind your tears. Which was kinda funny considering how many times he had made you cry. But his pleads and broken sobs only a few feet away from you were beginning to wear down your resolve.

“One last chance,” you thought to yourself.

You stood up from where you were sitting on your bedroom floor and slowly walked over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Your heart broke from how miserable he looked. Despite everything he had put you through, it still never failed to hurt when you saw him cry.

Wordlessly you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him flush against you. He wrapped his arms around you as well, tightening his grip as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” he muttered to you, still not letting go.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return, not wanting to bring yourself out of this moment with him. You had missed his touch, longing for his embrace every single day you were apart. And now that he was finally back in your arms, you never wanted to let go.

They say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new Hell

Every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine

And that made me want to die

“God, you’re so childish! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Eddie yelled as he walked outside, pulling you along behind him.

You pulled your hand away from him at his words, causing him to turn and look at you.

“It wasn’t nothing, Eddie! You’ve been avoiding me all night! I only went to that stupid party because you wanted to! But as soon as we get here, you leave me, and you’ve been doing god knows what since!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean! I saw Chrissy eyeing you up, and then I saw you walk off after her! What else am I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t walk off after her! Jesus Christ, you’re delusional! I should’ve known this was never gonna work,” he mumbled the last sentence to himself, but you still heard him.

You stepped closer to him, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to crying.

“What?” you asked him, barely above a whisper.

“I’m almost 21, and you’re not even 19 yet! Sometimes I just feel like you’re not mature enough to be in a relationship.”

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me Munson! I’m not mature enough? Me? Are you fucking serious right now?”

“See, here you go again! You’re always getting so worked up over nothing!”

“And you never care about anything! You never care about me, or anything I want! It’s always just you! We do what you want to do! We only hang out when you have the time! You never make time for me anymore!”

“So what? Am I not allowed to have friends anymore or something? Is that really what you’re saying?”

“I never said that!” You paused for a second, taking a deep breath, before turning around and heading back inside the house.

“Where are you going?” Eddie called after you.

“I need a drink.”

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

Not weeping in a party bathroom

Some actress asking me what happened, you

That's what happened, you

You stepped inside the bathroom, locking the door behind you. You could hear the cheers of drunk kids and the muffled thumping of the blaring music. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, and soon you felt tears begin to fall down your face.

The words you and Eddie had said replayed in your head. He always seemed to twist everything in his favor. He blamed you for everything, coming up with bullshit excuse after bullshit excuse to push the blame away from him. But his latest one hurt you the most. Your age gap? That’s what he decided to go with?

You would admit that it did feel a little weird to be dating someone almost two years older than you, especially after having just turned 18. But he always said that it wasn’t a big deal, that it was never a problem for him.

“Guess that was a lie,” you whispered to yourself, letting out a sad laugh.

You would spend the rest of the night hiding out in here if you had to, not wanting to face Eddie for a while. You had just barely calmed your tears, but the mere thought of speaking to him again brought them back full force. You heard a knock on the door and tried to quiet your sobs, hurriedly wiping the tears off your face.

“Y/n? You in there?” a voice on the other side of the door said.

You wanted to answer, but couldn’t find enough energy within yourself to do so. After a few moments, the voice spoke again.

“It’s Robin. Are you ok?”

Slowly you stood up and unlocked the door, feeling relief wash over you at the sight of your best friend. She stepped inside the bathroom and locked the door behind her. When she turned back to face you, you immediately pulled her into a hug, and began sobbing again.

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, gently rubbing you back as your sobs continued to wrack through you.

“Ed-Eddie,” you mumbled out through your sobs, struggling to say anything else through the force of your tears.

But the one word was enough of an answer for Robin. She knew everything he had put you through, having witnessed most of the fallout first hand. She didn’t try to get you to say anything else, knowing it would only make you cry harder. So she stood there with you, holding you close.

She wanted to tell you to leave him, to dump Eddie and stop going back to him. Find someone who cared about you, someone who loved you. Really loved you. But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of that right now. You were already so upset, and she didn’t want to make it worse. She was going to have to wait. One day she would get through to you, and convince you to leave Eddie for good. But that day wasn’t going to be today.

You who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes

Sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show

But then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come

And he said, "It's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one"

It was finally your 19th birthday. You were so excited, giddy from the thought of getting to see all your friends again. It had been a while since all of you were together in one place since you had all graduated.

The day was going absolutely perfect. You went to the movies with Steve, Robin, and Nancy, and the four of you had spent the rest of the day at the mall. Every time you suggested returning to your house, they pointed out another store, or some kiosk they wanted to stop at. You had a feeling they were stalling you, especially since your parents loved throwing you surprise parties. But you played along blindly, wanting to humor them.

By the time you had all headed back to Steve’s car, you had more shopping bags than you could carry. You, Nancy, and Robin decided to pile all of your bags on top of Steve, finding it absolutely hilarious when he struggled to carry them all.

After packing all of the bags into Steve’s trunk, you all piled back into his car. Steve was always a careful driver, but this was just insane. He was driving so slow, you were pretty sure that if you got out and walked you would arrive at your house first. But no one else seemed to notice, or at least they didn’t say anything about it. You figured that he was stalling again, so you decided that you wouldn’t mention it. If they really were going through all this trouble for you, the least you could do would be to not complain about it.

Almost an hour after having left the mall, Steve pulled up to your house. There were a suspicious number of cars lining the street, and all the lights in your house were turned off. Your suspicions had been right. You smiled to yourself as you hopped out of the car and walked towards Steve’s trunk to grab your bags.

“We can grab those later, let’s just head inside. Alright?” Steve asked, trying and failing to not look like he was up to something.

You nodded and followed the three of them to your front door. You put the key in the lock and turned it, pushing open the door. And just like you had thought, the lights turned on and at least twenty people jumped out and yelled, “Surprise!”

You faked as much surprise as you could muster, pretending like you didn’t have this whole thing figured out hours ago. You were pretty sure everyone knew that you knew, but if they didn’t want to mention it then neither would you.

You looked around at everyone there, feeling your smile grow wider as you saw family members and friends from high school, both of which you hadn’t seen in a while. But there was one person you didn’t see hanging out amongst the small group of people. And though you were incredibly grateful for everyone who did show, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt that Eddie wasn’t there.

It was as if Robin could read your mind, and she slid up right next to you.

“He said he was just going to be a little late. I’m sure he’ll come,” she said, trying to be hopeful.

You nodded, trying to believe what she had said. But as the time went on, and the party was slowly winding down, you could feel yourself losing hope. Even when you were blowing out your birthday candles, your eyes were locked to the front door, wishing that Eddie would show up.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

It had been almost a week since you and Eddie had broken up for the third time. And you were serious when you told yourself that you wouldn’t be giving him any more chances. You had barely left your room at all that week, not having the energy to even get out of bed some days.

You and Eddie had been together for almost two years, and now it was just over. He was the biggest chapter of your life, but now you had to start anew. And you didn’t have a clue where to start. You were so lost without him. It was like everything made you think of him and the time you had spent together.

But you knew that laying in bed mourning wouldn’t do you any good in moving on. If you really wanted to get over him, you would have to get rid of everything that reminded you of him. Which turned out to be harder than you had thought.

You grabbed an empty cardboard box from the garage and brought it back to your room. And then you got to work. You decided to start in your closet, digging through your clothes and finding everything that was Eddie’s. You found one of his leather jackets, his hellfire shirt, and a countless number of band shirts you had stolen during your many sleepovers. You folded all the clothes up and placed them in the box.

Then you turned your attention to your vanity. Stuck on your mirror was a photo booth strip from one of your first dates with Eddie. You smiled sadly as you gazed upon it, feeling both nostalgia and pain wash over you. You set it down, and you glanced over to the small box that sat upon your vanity. Pulling it open, you found numerous polaroids that you and Eddie had taken together. There were some from different dates you had gone on, candids you had sneakily taken of each other, photos from your sleepovers and the pillow forts you had made, and even a few dirty ones that Eddie had suggested the two of you take. Your stomach fluttered a bit when you saw them, but you pushed the feeling away.

You took all of the polaroids out of the box and picked up the photo booth strip again, tossing all the photos in the box on top of his clothes. You now found yourself standing in front of your dresser. A few framed photos of you and Eddie scattered the surface, and the sight of how happy you used to be only made your heart break even more. You turned the frames facedown and stacked them to one side of your dresser.

Your attention then turned to your jewelry stand that stood on your dresser. With shaky hands you reached for the guitar pick necklace Eddie had gifted you. He saw you admiring his own, so he made you a matching one. You used to wear that necklace everyday, but you had barely even touched it in the past few months. You picked it up, along with the locket Eddie had gifted you that had his initials on it and held a picture of the two of you inside. The bottom of your jewelry stand had a ring tray, but only one ring sat upon it. Eddie’s skull ring. You had loved to fiddle with his rings, so one day he slipped one off his hand and onto your own. Just thinking back to that moment had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You grabbed the jewelry and picture frames, placing them both in the box.

You spent the next hour digging around in your room, finding everything that either belonged to Eddie or had a memory with him attached to it. You were about to put the lid on the box when you turned to look at your bed. On top of your pillow was the teddy bear Eddie had won you on your very first date. It was the fourth of July fair the town had thrown, and that night held some of the greatest memories you’ve ever had. You and Eddie had spent the whole night wandering around, playing games, going on rides, and stuffing yourselves full of junk food. He had even kissed you for the first time on top of the ferris wheel.

You picked up Mr. Snuggles and hugged him tightly one last time, before placing him in the box. You picked up the lid and admired the contents of the box one last time. His clothes, the jewelry, all the photos, every single love letter and note he had written you, every gift he had ever given you, and now, Mr. Snuggles. Sighing to yourself, you placed the lid on the box, and carried it out of your room. You had gone through all the trouble of packing everything up, you might as well go and give it to him.

When you stepped outside of your front door, you saw a package sitting by the doorstep. You placed the box you were holding back down inside your house and picked up the package. It was addressed to you, but there wasn’t a return address. Curious, you carried it back to your room and sat on your bed, opening it.

Your heart broke even more, if that was even possible, when you saw the contents of the box. It looked like Eddie had the same idea that you did, but he didn’t even have the decency to deliver it to you himself, he had decided to mail it.

You carefully pulled the contents of the box out, feeling memory after memory resurface. Most of the box contained your clothes, since you had a tendency to forget something every time you slept over. There was also your old hairbrush, a package of your makeup wipes, one of your old perfume bottles, and some of your makeup that you thought you had lost.

You thought that was everything, but something shined slightly along the edge of the box. You turned it around and saw the Metallica record you had gotten Eddie last year for Christmas. You waited all night outside a record store to get a signed copy for him. He was so happy when he saw you had gotten him a Metallica record, but he absolutely lost it when he saw that it was autographed. But the fact that he just gave it back to you? It made you feel like you had done all of that for nothing.

He had claimed it was his most prized possession, but yet he had given it back. And for some reason, that’s what confirmed it for you. That you and Eddie were really over. Part of you had always hoped that maybe he’d come back to you, having really changed. But that sliver of hope you had held on to was gone now. And the reality of it all finally sunk in. You and Eddie were over. For good. And nothing was ever going to change that.

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

You can't get rid of it

'Cause you remember it all too well, yeah

You walked into Starcourt, feeling extremely excited. It was only a few days into November, but you were already doing some Christmas shopping. You had been brainstorming the perfect gifts for everyone for the past few months, taking note of anytime they said they wanted something. And now here you were, buying the perfect presents for your friends.

Giving people gifts was your absolute favorite part of the holiday. And so what if Christmas was well over a month away? You couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer, not wanting to risk running out of time. You looked at all the stores surrounding you, trying to decide which one to enter first. You had a list of what you were going to get everyone in hand, and were trying to figure out which store you should go into first, when you saw him.

Eddie Munson.

You hadn’t seen him since your final breakup last summer, but here he was. Hanging out in the food court with Jeff and Gareth. You couldn’t help but stare for a minute, just overwhelmed with all the feelings of suddenly seeing him again. Gareth looked up and saw you, waving before turning his attention back to the conversation he was having with Eddie and Jeff.

You waved back and began to walk away, grateful Eddie didn’t turn around to see who his friend waved to, when you noticed something. Eddie was wearing a scarf. Which you thought was weird, considering he said he hated the feeling of them. You turned back to look at it once more, and you could almost swear that your heart stopped. The scarf he was wearing was yours. It was the one you had left at his house after getting snowed in. The two of you spent hours looking for it, but you never found it.

Now you finally realized why. He had kept it. He had held on to your scarf for two years. Even when you had broken up and returned each other's things, he kept your scarf. He had to have known it was yours, your grandmother had stitched your name into the corner.

You decided it was finally time to walk away, but the whole time you were shopping it never left your mind. Why did he still have your scarf? And why was he still wearing it? But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't think of any answer other than him missing you. You fought the urge to go find him, despite desperately wanting to. Talking to him again would only make things worse. And you couldn’t deal with losing him again.

'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Seeing Eddie with your scarf had left you shaken up for the rest of the day. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even when you got back to your room and collapsed on top of your bed, Eddie was still stuck in your mind. And even though you didn’t want to reminisce about it, your thoughts wandered back to the last conversation you had with Eddie.

“You didn’t show up! You promised me you would be there! I waited all night for you, and you never even called to apologize, or even explain!” you had screamed at him, tears streaming down your face.

It was the day after your 19th birthday, and Eddie decided that it would be a good idea to show up at your house, despite missing the event the day prior.

“God, how many times do I have to apologize! I said I was sorry!”

“But you don’t really mean it! You never do! You’re always late! To everything! But this time you didn’t even show up at all! And the only thing you have to say is sorry?”

“Well what else do you want from me?!”

“I don’t know, an explanation!”

Eddie sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m not dealing with this. The second I tell you, you’re gonna start attacking me all over again. It never ends with you!”

“Where were you?!” you asked him once more, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness bubble up within you.

“I was with Chrissy, alright?! She wanted some weed, so I sold her some. We got to talking, and before I knew it, I had missed your party. There! You happy?”

You froze as the words left his mouth. He missed your birthday party, the one he promised he would attend, because he was with Chrissy?! You could feel the anger within you rise, and you began to shout at him.

“You were with Chrissy?! Are you serious?! You missed my birthday because you were hanging with Chrissy?! God, Eddie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Eddie went to say something, but you cut him off, wanting to get all of your thoughts out.

“I’ve dealt with this long enough. I’m done with the way you’ve been treating me! You never show up to my things, you never care about my feelings, and you just keep lying straight to my face! I’ve never missed any of your events, your birthdays, anything! I sat through every single Hellfire meeting because I wanted to make you happy! I did everything I could to make you happy! But it was never enough was it?

“All I’ve wanted is for you to be happy. And do you know why? Because I love you Eddie! I’ve loved you since you kissed me at the top of the ferris wheel, and I’ve been falling more and more in love with you every day! And despite all the bullshit you’ve put me through, you’ve never once said it back! Not once! Do you even know how that makes me feel?”

“How can you expect me to say I love you if I don’t?! You can’t just force your feelings onto me, and expect me to feel the same way!”

You paused, all your anger suddenly disappearing and being replaced with the most heartbreaking sadness you’ve ever felt

“You don’t love me?” you asked, your voice falling to barely above a whisper.

Eddie stayed silent, looking past you instead of meeting your eyes.

“Have you ever loved me?” you asked again.

But as the seconds went by and Eddie remained silent, you got your answer.

“Fine. Well I guess there’s no point being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

“Are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” Eddie asked, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

You brought your hands up to wipe the tears off of your face. Reliving the memory brought back all of the feelings along with it. You thought you were over it, over him. But you were wrong. He had left an imprint on you that was much deeper than you had thought it was. And there was a part of you that had begun to think that you might never truly get over him. You would just soon be able to live with the pain.

Wind in my hair, you were there

You remember it all

Down the stairs, you were there

You remember it all

It was rare, I was there

I remember it all too well

Eddie laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You were there. You were right there, and he didn’t even get to see you.

When he saw Gareth waving to someone from behind him, he went to turn around but Jeff told him not to. Once you had walked away, they told him that you were there. Eddie knew they were just trying to protect him, but he still wished that he could’ve seen you.

He just wanted to see you again, to apologize for everything. He had been such an asshole. A few months into your relationship, Eddie decided he wanted to try something harder than weed. He talked a big game to his customers, but he’d actually never done anything other than smoke. But unfortunately, once he started, he couldn’t get himself to stop.

The majority of the rest of your relationship was spent with him being high out of his mind. He didn’t want to tell you what he was really doing, so when he showed up late he tried to brush it off. And he had a tendency to be more defensive than usual when he was high, so anytime you confronted him, it turned into a fight.

He wanted to stop, truly he did. But it was just so hard. He had begun pulling away from you, figuring that keeping you at an arm’s length would be safer for the both of you. But he had only ended up hurting you in the process.

Chrissy knew about his problems, and had offered to help. She had gotten over bulimia, and while being “addicted” to vomiting wasn’t the same as a drug addiction, she wanted to try to help him anyways. Eddie had been trying to get clean for you before your birthday, but that night he had really bad withdrawal symptoms. He spent the whole night with Chrissy, struggling through them, only to have you dump him the next day, which made him relapse.

He never said “I love you” either, even though he did. He loved you so much. But he was just scared. Saying the words would make everything real, and if he fucked up something real it would only hurt him even more. Only now does he realize how fucked up it was to never say it back, especially after having been together for almost two years.

He had ruined everything, and all because he was scared. He was too scared to come to you for help. He was too scared to admit his feelings. And he was too scared to tell you the truth. But none of that mattered anyways. It was too late now. And you were gone, for good.

And I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes

"I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age"

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones

I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight

Only a few days after you saw Eddie at the mall, you saw him again. This time he was just walking past you on the sidewalk. But he wasn’t alone. Chrissy was walking right beside him, and the sight of them together broke your heart.

You had alway thought that maybe he had been cheating on you with her. And who would even blame him? Chrissy was so much prettier than you were. She was well liked, confident, and gorgeous. She was cheer captain in high school for crying out loud. Of course Eddie would rather be with her than with you.

Hurriedly, you walked past them, not wanting to witness the two of them together anymore. You had walked away so fast you hadn’t noticed that Eddie was still wearing your scarf. Or that he looked so happy to just see you. You hadn’t noticed the hopeful look that crossed Chrissy’s face when she saw you walking towards them. She grabbed Eddie’s arm and was trying to convince him to talk to you, when you blew right past them.

Eddie’s face fell as he turned around and watched you walk away. He didn’t even want another chance. He just wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain himself. He was almost two weeks clean, which was a new record for him, and was finally feeling ready to talk to you about it. But you were already gone.

“It’s alright Eddie, you’ll get another chance,” Chrissy said, trying to be positive.

Chrissy’s optimism was one of the things that really helped him overcome his addiction. No matter how many times he messed up and relapsed, she never gave up hope in him. But now her optimism was only bringing him down. Would he get another chance to talk to you? Would you even let him talk to you? What would he even say? He had so much to apologize for, he didn’t even know where to begin. But from the way things were looking, now he might never even get the chance.

And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?

Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?

Eddie sat on his bedroom floor, his back pressed against the wall as he clutched your scarf in his hands. He held it close to him as tears began to fall down his face. The way you had looked at him earlier that day, that mix of sadness and betrayal, it wouldn’t leave his mind. All he could see was the pain on your face. And it hurt him even more to know he was the one who caused that.

He missed you so much. So much so that it physically hurt him. Some nights he couldn’t even sleep in his bed because it made him think of you. You had made so many memories with him inside his bedroom walls, and everytime he stepped foot into his room, he remembered them all.

The time he had tried to teach you how to play guitar, but you had made no progress since the both of you couldn’t stop laughing. The first time you had made a pillow fort on this bed, and the second time, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. Countless mornings spent tangled together, just soaking up each other’s presence. And all the intimate moments you had shared on this very bed. He remembered all of it. Everywhere he looked brought up a different memory of you. He couldn’t escape it, and despite how much it hurt, he didn’t want to. He was grateful for the memories, because even though you were gone, he could still relive all the happy moments he had with you, even if it was only in his head.

All he wanted was another chance. But he knew he could never put you through that. He had already hurt you so much, and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. Even if he was clean now, he knew getting back with you was a bad idea. He didn’t want to risk relapsing and hurting you again, and he didn’t want to have to drag you back into the mess he called his life.

So he would just have to learn how to live without you. Even though he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He could survive without you, sure. But he would never be able to live. Not when you were the only person who ever truly made him feel alive.

'Cause in this city's barren cold

I still remember the first fall of snow

And how it glistened as it fell

I remember it all too well

You sat on your bed, staring out of your window and watching as the snow fell to the ground. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the time you and Eddie spent all day outside in the snow before getting snowed in at his trailer. That was still one of the best days of your life.

You taught him how to ice skate, and even though he was still horrible at it by the end of your lessons, he was at least falling over a lot less. You had decided that you wanted to make a snowman, and you had challenged Eddie to a snowman building contest. But just as you were about to finish your snowman, a snowball hit your back.

You turned around to find Eddie facing the other direction, attempting to look busy, but you saw right through him. You quickly made a snowball and chucked it at him. You had both forgotten about the snowmen you were building, and ended up having the most epic snowball fight of your life. And you had won of course. He claimed that he let you win, but you knew the truth.

When you laid on the ground to make a snow angel, the snow soon began to fall harder, and the wind picked up. You and Eddie grabbed your things and took off running for his trailer, not wanting to get caught outside in the snowstorm. After you finally got back, and changed into some of his pajamas, Eddie handed you some hot cocoa and then you spent the rest of the night watching movies, cuddled together on the couch, until you both fell asleep.

Even now, two years later, every time you saw snow you couldn’t help but think of that day. Looking back on the memory, you felt yourself smiling. Maybe your relationship with Eddie wasn’t all bad.

Just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?

Just between us, do you remember it all too well?

Just between us, I remember it all too well

“Ok, so you don’t want to talk to them?” Chrissy asked, looking at Eddie from across the picnic table.

Eddie nodded.

“But you still want to apologize?”

“Yep,” Eddie replied.

He was beginning to feel hopeless. He knew you would never talk to him again, but he still wanted to apologize. He felt like he owed it to you. A proper apology for all the bullshit that he put you through. But he had no idea where to start. So he called Chrissy and asked her to meet him at the picnic table in the woods.

They spent the first half an hour just trying to figure out what he should say, when he said that doing it face to face wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Hmm,” Chrissy thought, tapping her figure against her chin. “What about calling them?”

“It’s the same thing. They’d hang up before I could even get two words out. This is hopeless!”

Eddie sighed, and put his head down on his arms which were folded up on the table. Chrissy stayed silent for a minute, pondering another way he could apologize and actually get you to hear him out.

“Not necessarily. I think I have an idea! Come on!” Chrissy stood up and walked to the other side of the table, pulling Eddie up as well.

“Where are we going?” he grumbled, following her as she dragged him through the woods.

“Back to your trailer. I think I finally figured something out!”

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

“Do you really think it’s gonna work?” Eddie asked, looking up at Chrissy who was standing beside him.

Eddie sat at the kitchen table, his notebook open in front of him, and holding a pen in his hand. Chrissy had suggested that he write you a letter. That way he could say everything he wanted to say, and if he didn’t sign it until the end, then hopefully you would read it instead of throwing it away immediately.

“Yeah, I do! And besides, what’s the worst that could happen? They don’t read it? Then we try something else! They deserve an apology, and I know you really want to give one to them. I’m not going to give up that easily, and I’m not going to let you either!”

Eddie smiled at Chrissy’s words. It had been a while since he’d had a friend this dedicated to helping him. Sure he had Jeff and Gareth, but when he told them about having been dumped by you for the final time, they just said that it sucked and that they’d help him move on. Which sure, that was nice and all, but Chrissy wanted to help him make things right. And that meant so much to him.

So he began to write. First he just wrote down everything he needed to apologize for, wanting to make sure that he didn’t forget to include anything in his letter. By the time he had finished, the list was very long. But he didn’t want to leave anything out. He wanted to apologize for all of it. Then he began to draft. He had written ten letters already, deciding that each one wasn’t good enough.

“It’s ok. You got this Eddie,” Chrissy reassured him.

Eddie flipped to the next blank page and began writing once more. He made sure he apologized for everything that he needed to, but he didn’t stop there. He came clean about everything. About his struggles, his feelings, and why he had begun to pull away from you. He knew he didn’t deserve another chance with you, but he still wanted you to know how he really felt.

When he had finally finished, the letter was almost three pages front and back. It was a lot longer than he had expected it to be, but that didn’t matter. He had said everything he needed to say and then some. Now he just hoped that you’d read it.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Eddie and Chrissy walked to your house, which wasn’t that far from the trailer park. Memories of the last time Eddie had been there played in the back of his mind. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer to your front door. Chrissy stayed at the end of your driveway, wanting to let Eddie do this by himself.

His hands were shaking as he arrived in front of your door. Anxiously, he turned around to look at Chrissy, who nodded encouragingly, and gave him a thumbs up. Eddie took a deep breath in as he turned to face your front door once more. He placed the letter on the ground right in front of the door, and then he rang the bell. He quickly ran back down the driveway, and he and Chrissy hid behind a car that was parked on the side of the road, watching the front door and hoping that you would get the letter.

Only a few moments later, your front door opened to reveal you standing behind it. You looked around outside, a bit confused, before your gaze fell to the letter on the ground. You picked it up and saw your name written on the envelope. There wasn’t any address or stamp, so you figured that whoever had written this had hand delivered it.

You went back inside, letter in your hand, and walked towards your bedroom. After sitting down on your bed, you stared at the envelope in your hands for a good few minutes. Something about the whole thing seemed strange to you. Like whoever had written you this letter had deemed it so important, that not even the post office could be trusted with it.

You had half a mind to throw it out, not wanting to bother reading a letter from some stranger. But your curiosity got the better of you, and you pulled the letter out. You unfolded it and saw that it was three pages long.

Before you could even read it, you recognized the handwriting. It was Eddie’s. You felt like you should’ve just thrown it out, not wanting to bother hearing anything that he had to say. But that fact that the letter was both hand written and hand delivered made you realize that it might actually be important. So you began reading.

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it

Dear y/n,

I know sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it. Especially after everything that I’ve done to you. To us. But I just had to apologize. For everything. Or at least everything that I can remember. I’m sure that there’s more that I don’t, but I’m sorry for all of that too.

I’m sorry for being late all the time. I’m sorry for not showing up to any of your things, but still expecting you to show up to mine. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve lied, and all the times that I’ve made you feel crazy because of that. I’m sorry for leaving you alone at parties, without giving you the real reasons why. I’m sorry for pulling away from you, emotionally and physically. I’m sorry for all the fights. I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry for every single time that I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for never telling you the truth. And I’m sorry for never saying I love you.

That’s my biggest regret. Never getting to tell you how I truly felt, because I was just too scared to say it. But I do love you y/n. I love you more than anything or anyone in this world. I love you so much it scares me. That’s why I never said it back. I was scared that if I said how I felt, then you would suddenly wake up and realize you didn’t want me anymore. And I knew that saying how I felt would only make it hurt that much more if we broke up. Well look where that got me, huh?

And I’m sorry for never telling you why I was acting the way I was. I was too scared to go to you for help, so I went to Chrissy instead. That’s why I left you alone at that party when I followed her off, and that’s why I missed your birthday party. The truth is, I was struggling. A few months after we started dating, I started doing more than just weed. And I got addicted. It was really bad. I didn’t realize it then, but being high all the time turned me into such an asshole. And you didn’t deserve that.

I tried to get clean before your birthday, but the night off I was going through horrible withdrawal symptoms. Chrissy came over and helped me. And I went over to your place to apologize the next day, but I was too scared to tell you the truth. And then you ended things. I relapsed again after that, but then I realized that it would never make me feel better. Drugs are what ruined everything in the first place.

I finally got clean after that. And I haven’t relapsed since. I wanted to apologize to you when you were walking past Chrissy and I, but you walked off so fast. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

This was the only way that I could think of to apologize without you running away. Well technically Chrissy thought of it, but I wrote the letter so that has to count for something!

I’m not asking you for another chance. I don’t deserve that. And you definitely don’t deserve having to put up with my shit again. I just needed to apologize. For everything. I know I hurt you so many times, and that’s one of my biggest regrets. I never wanted to hurt you. But I did, and know I have to live with that. But I just hope that this makes things better. Even if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine. I just need you to know how sorry I truly am.

I hope you have a great life, y/n. I hope you find someone who loves you, and treats you better than I ever did. I hope that you find real happiness, and that no one ever hurts you like I did. Because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve the world and more! And I hope you find someone who can give it to you.

I’ll always love you, y/n. I always have and I always will.

Love, Eddie

Wind in my hair, I was there, I was there

Down the stairs, I was there, I was there

Sacred prayer, I was there, I was there

It was rare, you remember it all too well

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #angst

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