#i think he'd appreciate it that after all rhis time they are still there as his body becomes weak beside them and then he will settle down

[pommancy]

Nvm i think ren does find love at old age

[storiesbyrhi]

I had an idea for a little blurb or one shot, what if there reader is always known for wearing long sleeves and like she’s never seen without them to the point where there’s crazy rumours and reasons people have come up with as to why.

And one day Eddie decides to ask her, and she just takes off her cardigan and she’s wearing a short sleeve underneath and she just has full on tattoo sleeves. So eddie literally just melts for her on the spot.

Hello, friend! Thank you for being my first anonymous requester/prompter. Appreciate it. I hope you like this. It got a little more angsty than I planned, but maybe it's a vibe? xo Rhi

Warnings: mention of self-harm cuts/scars - mind and not at all the focus of the fic; reference to bullying; drug use; no beta (and I'm shitty at proofreading)

Drabble 001 1566 words

“Maybe it's some sort of like, skin condition?” Dustin offered, still knowing the pain of appearing different.

“Where’s your imagination, Henderson?” Jeff asked. “Scars, all the way up her arms, like from doing witchcraft or whatever,”

“Witchcraft?”

“You mean like the cult stuff Hellfire does?” Gareth chimed in, causing most of the boys to laugh. Even Eddie snorted a little.

Yeah, it was a double standard alright. The boys at the table were the first to be picked on for standing out, or trying to fit in, or doing anything at all really. The irony of them watching as you sat by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria, adding to the already wild echoes of gossip that sounded out wherever you went, was not lost on Eddie.

That’s not to say he didn’t glance over at you, wondering what had changed.

Last year he was meant to graduate and so were you. You’d shared classes, small talk, and a joint every now and then, but he fully expected to never see you again after graduation. Then, you disappeared before the final few weeks of the school year. You were M.I.A. during exams. People thought maybe you’d just skipped out on school and Hawkins entirely.

But, there you were, repeating your Senior year, keeping to yourself like your life depended on it, and the icing on this mystery cake – the length of your sleeves. Rain, hail, or blistering heat, your sleeves would be to your wrists.

Of all the things to think are weird about someone, this was incredibly low on Eddie’s list, if it made it at all. There were logical reasons anyway. When he traveled to the city to see a show, he'd met kids with cuts and scars hidden beneath bracelets and bandages. Maybe whatever caused you to miss the end of last year was fucked up. He couldn’t and wouldn’t judge you for that. Maybe you had converted to a religion that changed how you wanted to dress. Again, Eddie wouldn’t judge you for that.

Really, he wouldn’t have noticed or cared at all, if it wasn’t you.

You, who he remembered from Middle School. You said you thought his act in the talent show was cool, and he’d look even more like a rock star if he let his hair grow long and wild like the thrash metal bands he worshipped.

You, who refused to take discounts on weed just because Eddie offered them. “Call it: supporting local businesses,” you’d laugh, leaving him with his thoughts of you.

You, who would often sit in a way that meant Eddie could copy your answers on maths tests.

You, who he hadn’t spoken to in months, but still occupied a great deal of his mind’s time.

“You sound like a bunch of prissy school girls with all this gossip. What you really should be talkin’ about, is how you’re gonna survive the Cult of Vecna,” Eddie posed to the table, punctuating his statement by throwing peanuts at Jeff.

He dared another quick look over at you and froze when his gaze met yours. Before you could look away, he offered you a smile. Genuine. Warm. Hopefully – inviting. You blinked back at him, not scowling or rolling your eyes, just… confused, maybe.

Two days later, Eddie was spending his Saturday night alone in the trailer. Wayne was at work. Gareth’s house was plagued with interstate family, so band practice was canceled. He didn’t mind, though. It had been a while since he’d just done fuck all.

With rented videos stacked and ready, Eddie packed a bowl and started to watch Fright Night. He was only about ten minutes in before a loud knock on the trailer door made him jump.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mumbled, glad nobody was there to see him almost piss himself.

He crossed the small space, poising to hear a neighbour talk shit about another neighbour and ‘tell ya uncle, would’ya’ and ‘get a haircut’ and endless trailer park bullshit he could not care less about. As he opened the door though, he stood up straight.

When he said your name, you looked up at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I just, ah. Do you… Are you still…”

Eddie knew this line of unfinished questioning. “Selling? Yeah. Sure. Come in.”

You stepped up into the trailer, let Eddie close the door behind you. He made no motion to move or say anything. He was just looking at you, a little disbelief in his eyes.

“What do you need? I’m not fully stocked, but if your tastes haven’t changed we should be good,” Eddie said, trying his best to be polite. No, not polite. Kind. Friendly. A friend.

“Yeah, man. You still do pre-rolls?”

“Let me look. Um, take a seat, if you want. Do you want a drink or anything?” he offered, walking backwards towards his room but listening carefully to your reply. You shook your head at him.

In his room, Eddie found no pre-rolls, but there were the means to make them. He came back out to the lounge, plonked himself down next to you on the couch.

“You got some time? I can roll them for you now,”

“You don’t-”

Eddie stopped you by speaking your name. You looked at him. “It’s fine. Let me.”

You nodded, sat back into the couch more.

Eddie started Fright Night again and you half watched it, half observed how skilled Eddie was. His fingers worked fast, neatly. Nothing went to waste.

“So, um, this is a bit out of the way?” Eddie asked. “I mean, if you weren’t sure I was holding,”

“Um. Yeah. Nah. I live here now,” you told him.

“Oh. Cool. That’s cool. So, we’re neighbours?”

“Looks that way,” you confirmed, just grateful he didn’t ask why you had moved from your uptown house to good old Forest Hills.

The conversation paused there, not resuming until Eddie asked if you wanted four, like you used to. He wrapped them in saran wrap and handed them over, swapping you for cash.

Eddie hoped you’d sit for a bit, but you immediately stood and walked to the door.

“Thanks,” you said, turning.

“Wait!” Eddie called, unable to stop himself. You looked at him, your bottom lip sucked in and nervous energy radiating off you. “I, ah… I don’t… know what happened. If something did happen. Or whatever. But if you need anything at all… I’m here, you know?”

You hesitated for a second, then nodded. It wasn’t enough for him. He continued, “Because I liked that we were friends. We were friends, right? And we should be. Now. We have a lot in common. Actually,”

“You mean we both live in a trailer park and are repeating our senior year?” you asked deadpan.

It threw Eddie. For a second, he thought he’d upset you, but then he noticed you weren’t moving to leave anymore. “Yeah… And, we both like… weed… and horror… and there’s gotta be other things, right?”

You studied his face. Eddie had grown up a lot in the years you’d been a nameless moon, orbiting his bright planet. He’d grown into a beautiful person. And it wasn’t just the big brown eyes. He was kind, sweet. You’d seen how he’d adopted all the freak freshmen, taking them under his wing and offering a level of notoriety that meant protection.

“You want to be my friend?” you asked him.

“Yeah. I do,” he answered confidently, puffing his chest out a little.

“You’re not just like, fishing for information? Wanna know where I went?”

Eddie was a little hurt you’d think that about him, but he could see you were more hurt. He shook his head, said as softly as he could, “I kinda just miss you.”

And there it was. It broke you just a bit. You’d missed him too. You missed any semblance of normality. You sighed and stepped close to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Eddie made a surprised little ‘oh’ sound but quickly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tight. He waited until you stepped away first, not wanting to spook you.

“So, Fright Night?” you asked, moving back to the couch, casually lifting the knitted jumper you were wearing over your head, throwing it aside.

Eddie’s jaw fell slack. Your back was to him, but you wore only a tank top, and the colours and patterns all up your arms were so vivid. Covered in bright illustrations, you were a walking piece of art. He’d managed to close his mouth and follow you to the couch by the time you sat down.

He sat next to you, turning his attention back to the film, scared to even look at you. There was a smirk on your face as you noticed how still Eddie had gone.

“If you let me share a bowl, I’ll let you ask about the tattoos,” you said.

“Oh, thank FUCK,” he breathed out. “You’ve always been cute, but, ah, Jesus…”

You laughed at him, a proper laugh, one that sounded unfamiliar to you. Eddie had grabbed your arms and was studying the tattoos so closely you thought maybe he was trying to commit them to memory. He looked at you, those goddamn big puppy dog eyes.

“I really fucking missed you,” he whispered. “And I’m glad you’re here.”