#that scene in chap 2 had my heart melting into a crying mess

[andaleduardo]

Loopy Emotions - 3

Eddie is anticipating his wisdom teeth removal surgery. He’s only nervous for one thing, the after effects of the anesthesia. What could go wrong?

Parts:  1 / 2 / 3

One hour had passed since they arrived home and the doorbell rang. Sonia had almost forgot about the conversation that took place the night before. When she opened the door to face six smiling teenagers with a large number of ice cream boxes and blankets, she almost rolled her eyes too hard and shut the door right in their faces.

“Guh-Good afternoon, Mrs.K”

“I assume you’re here to check on Eddie?” Every head nodded back at her. She contemplated her options, finally giving in. “Just be careful with him, he’s not himself and he can’t get hurt.”

They were about to step inside when a sudden cry was heard from the room upstairs. The six friends were startled as they watched the older woman make her way up in a rush and they quickly followed, the front door shutting behind them with a loud noise.

When they made their way to where the cries were coming from, Eddie’s bedroom, they encountered a very funny sight. Richie almost dropped the ice cream he had in his arms when he took in the scene. Eddie was in front of his dresser facing the mirror, and he was crying. The type of cry that leaves you sobbing with a runny nose. But the one thing that really jumped to him was

Eddie looked extremely adorable.

There were bandages all around his head from his chin to the top, making his messed-up hair spurt out in various directions. His cheeks were puffy, maybe swollen, most likely due to the cotton pads shoved inside. Eddie’s eyes were shiny with tears just like his cheeks and nose which were heavily pink. His lips were dry, chapped, and red-smeared. Maybe that could be disgusting for some, but the whole look of him just made Richie melt.

Eddie cried out once again just like a baby would when he doesn’t get attention. Richie was brought out of his awe and noticed that Sonia was apprehensive beside him, trying to figure out how to calm his son.

“Eddie bear, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She planted her hands on his shoulders to turn him around to face her. But Eddie shoved her hands away weakly and turned to the mirror again, getting so close to it over the dresser that he almost bumped his face on the reflective surface.

“Look at it!” He cried out, bringing a hand to his mouth and pushing his lips so that all of his teeth were showing. A bloody pad threatened to fall. “Juslook at it!”

Richie made his way over, surpassing Beverly and Mike, who were the closest to Eddie. On the corner of his eye he could see Bev holding his camera up and silently recording.

“Eddie, what am I suppose to look at?” Sonia looked closer at his reflection, noticing as he pointed to the various stiches on the back of his mouth. The others saw her face pale up a little. “Did the stiches open? Are you hurting, baby? Let me look at them pleas-“

“Looks so ugly.” He sobbed. “Make ‘em leave, ma. I donwanna ‘em!”

“Eds.” Richie approached him by placing a hand on the boy’s shoulders. Eddie immediately turned to face him with teary eyes, making Richie’s heart skip a beat. Eddie scanned his eyes over each of his friends and sniffled, finally realizing they were all there. His mother stood still on his other side of him “They’re just stiches. They’ll fall off before you notice.”

Eddie locked his eyes with Richie’s again, blinking his tears away. “Wreally?”

“Yeah, really. You’ll wake up one day and they’re not there anymore.”

Behind the camera, Beverly smirked.

It seemed too good to be true. Eddie turned to his mother for confirmation. “It’s true, honey, they’re temporary.”

 “We brought you ice cream, blankets and a movie.” Mike’s voice made its way through the room and Eddie scanned his friends again, each of them holding something for him. When his chin started trembling again Stan broke the silence and grabbed Eddie’s hand, leading him to the bedroom door.

“The ice cream won’t eat itself, let’s go grab spoons.”

His mom stood in place watching the group go down the stairs.

  Stan kept guiding Eddie to the couch while Bill and Ben made their way to the kitchen in order to grab spoons and store the extra ice cream in the freezer. When they came back, with four ice cream flavours in their hands, they found Mike and Richie getting the movie and the blankets ready while Stan attempted to make Eddie sit still.

“Eddie, sit down for once.” He tried to settle the boy down on the couch cushions, failing miserably as Eddie scrambled to his feet right away.

“Noo!”

Stan managed to grab him by his waist before he went on a running spree around the house.

“We’re just going to eat ice cream, we brought you your favourite, lemon.” He forced him back on the couch.

“Oh, okay.” Eddie settled down for two seconds, but as soon as Stan took his hands away, Eddie rushed underneath him, dodging him successfully to stand up on his own. The dizziness hit him and his knees buckled before he could start running. Luckily, Richie was close enough to grab him by his waist, like Stan had done seconds ago, before Eddie hit the ground.

With a giggling, drugged boy in his arms, he turned to face the others. “Jesus, how long does this last?”

Beverly zoomed in on the scene, her voice behind the camera. “Hours. Maybe five? Enjoy it while you can.”

If he could, Richie would have flipped her off for that, but he was busy holding a scrambling Eddie who was trying so hard to get away. He sat down on the couch with the boy in his arms, holding him still as much as he could. The rest of them took a spot on the floor or the remaining couch space. Beverly finally shut the camera off.

“Eddie, for fuck’s sake stop moving.” His fighting was getting weaker, but he ceased on giving up.

“Lemme go.” Richie held Eddie harder against his chest, sitting the boy half on his lap and half on the couch. As revenge, Eddie pressed his nails on Richie’s uncovered knee, making him hiss and curse under his breath.

 “Eddie bear?”

Seven heads turned to the living room entrance, where Sonia had just walked in. Her eyes scanned the two boys sitting so close and Richie audibly gulped. She approached his son with neat steps and tried her best to ignore the position he was in. Eddie had quieted down with the sudden interruption and he was looking up at his mother with the same expressionless face.

“I’m going to get these new prescriptions the doctor gave you. I left your bed ready if you want to go sleep. Meanwhile, I need you to eat something, okay?” She started to tilt Eddie’s chin up. Eddie opened his mouth so his mother could remove the blood-soaked gauzes. She talked to the teenagers next. “Can I count on you to look after him?” After a unison ‘yes’ she nodded in approvement. “Make sure he eats this ice cream you brought, and after he finishes-“ She handed a package of new gauzes to Richie, his eyebrows rose as he took them in one hand, the other still around Eddie. “-he needs to put on these. Two or three, depends on the bleeding.”

Richie looked up at her with a dumb stare but nodded anyway. She took one final look at her son and left a kiss on the top of his head, leaving the room afterwards.

Once she left, the room kept quiet, the only sound being the beginning of the movie. Beverly spoke once the front door closed.

“I can’t believe I didn’t catch that on video. Your expression was more embarrassing than anything this boy will do today.”

But no one answered her, which made everything weirder. Richie was still stuck looking at the door, and everyone was equally quiet. Eddie was distracted trying to open a box of lemon flavoured ice cream.

“Why are we watching a muh-movie again? E-Eddie won’t remember it.” Bill broke the silence.

“Yeah, it was stupid idea.” Mike agreed with him.

“Well, we have to do something anyway.” Ben remarked.

Shrugging, Bev suggested  “Let’s just feed the beast and have fun with this.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Stan, from his spot on the floor, took the box from Eddie’s hand and opened it, giving it back to him along with a spoon.

Eddie happily dived in and everyone was getting ready to do the same when he whined out. “I can’t find my mouth!” And it was the funniest thing watching him struggle to eat as he pressed the spoon on his chin instead. Ben was sitting on his other side and tried to guide Eddie’s hand in the right direction. But Eddie, stubborn as ever, pushed him away, claiming that he was able to do it. His method consisted of getting his left hand to find his mouth and then successfully lead the spoon towards it, finally eating.

Stan was looking at him questioningly. “That ought to work.”

And so, they settled on sharing ice cream with a movie as background noise and soft blankets draped on their laps. Eddie’s own ice cream was kept to himself for obvious reasons. Richie ended up eating from his left, where Mike sat with a strawberry flavour.

On the opposite side of the couch, Beverly passed the camera to Bill, who was sitting on an old recliner. He gladly accepted it and started recording, keeping the camera partly hidden.

“So…” Bev spoke up. “Eddie, how’d it go?”

He looked at her, chin dripping with melted sugary sorbet from the lack of sensation on his mouth. “Ooh, it went greeat!” He spoke with a mouthful. His voice cleared up a little without the stuffed cotton but it was still dragged from the medicine.

“Yeah? How can you tell?” She herself also eating.

Eddie shrugged.  “I didn’t die, I guess.” The answer took a few laughs from the group. From his spot on the recliner, Bill snickered and zoomed in a little bit. Beverly kept the chat going.

“You’re awfully quiet. No fun.”

“Bev don’t push it.” Mike protested. If there was a best-case scenario, this was probably it.

“But it’s true! I was hoping for a little more.” She insisted.

At her disappointment, Ben suggested “Maybe he just needs to sleep already?”

Eddie whined out from his spot between the three talking teenagers.  “I’m literally hereee!” He waved his spoon around while he talked. “You’re treating me like a stupid baby!” And since chaos was asked, his spoon collided with Richie’s face, knocking his glasses sideways.

“Ow!” Richie yelped in pain, making Eddie turn around to face him. Ben almost spit ice cream from his mouth with the urge to laugh. “Oh god, can I go blind?” Richie put a hand over his eye, his glasses threating to fall.

“See? He’s the baby, not me…” Eddie tried to prove his point but Richie just whined more in response.

“I have spit and bloody dairy on, my, eye.” And Eddie just lost it completely. He threw his head back on the couch and laughed loudly.

“Guys, this is really starting to burn.” He disentangled his arm from Eddie’s waist to remove his glasses and rub on his red eye. Their legs still tangled “Can someone get me a tissue or something?”

No one answered him, everyone distracted with Eddie, still laughing and hitting his hand on Ben’s arm who just wanted to eat in peace.

“Thanks a lot! Let me just remind you if I get up, Eddie gets up, and I’m gonna leave it to you to catch him.”

That was enough to make Bev leave her spot on the arm of the couch. When she came back with a wet towel on her hand, she approached Richie.

“Wipe his chin too, don’t let the bandages get dirty.”

“Am I the designated babysitter here?” He asked with confusion in his voice. His heart was already going nuts of having Eddie on his lap. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder not to stare or act stupid around Eddie when he looked so adorable and vulnerable. Richie just wanted to hug him close to his chest and he was positive he would do it if they didn’t have an audience with them. Somehow, this was turning out to be more embarrassing for him than to Eddie.

He finally rubbed his eye clean, trying to relieve the burning sensation.

“Oh no, you’re just the designated target for our entertainment since you have a crush on him.” Bev said while she sat back down again, trying hard not to smile.

“Bev!” Richie’s mouth opened and closed countless times, speechless. He felt his blood boil.

 “Oh, this is golden, tell me you’re getting this on camera!” Mike talked to Bill between chuckles.

Richie shrieked. “You’re recording?!”

“I-It was your idea to b-bring a camera!” He defended himself from his spot.

Richie talked more to the camera than to anyone specifically. “This is fucking unfair! Eddie, if you see this, don’t believe anything these jerks said!”

“Relax, we’re just messing with you.” Stan said from his spot on the ground.

“Go fuck yourself, Snow White.” He then pointed to Bill and the camera. “And turn that shit off for a minute!”

Bill slowly lowered the camera down again, exchanging glances with the others, all of them surprised by the way Richie was acting.

After cleaning his eye, he turned slightly sideways to find Eddie’s head still on the back of the couch with his eyes closed. His laughter had died a little ago. Richie poked Eddie’s side and the boy squirmed under the touch, looking at him through lidded eyes.

He gently wiped Eddie’s chin with the damp towel and allowed himself to stare since everyone was quiet and trying to catch the plot of the forgotten movie. Eddie was breathing through his mouth, his lips agape and dried. When Richie took his eyes from Eddie’s mouth, he realized Eddie was looking right back at him, a very peaceful expression on his face.

They stared at each other while he finished cleaning him and Eddie’s eyelids trembled while he did so.

Eddie’s eyes would always speak to him, drugged or not. For years, Richie wondered if they held a glint in them at all times, just like they do when they look at each other. Right now, in this room with low orange light coming from the late afternoon outside, Eddie’s eyes held a sweet brown and they pierced through Richie’s soul like blades cutting paper. Richie stopped moving the towel when Eddie darted his eyes lower only to get back up seconds later

Eddie gently pushed the ice cream into Richie’s space, breaking the stare. He took it from Eddie’s grip and put it on the coffee table in front of them, grabbing the package of new clean gauzes that was previously given to him.

Taking a last glance around to find everyone eating and watching the movie, he waved the package to the other boy. All he got in response was the moving of Eddie’s legs to get properly comfortable on top of his own. Eddie kept his head thrown back on the top of the couch and opened his mouth further to Richie, and he got the message.

Richie took one squared compress and rolled it into a cylinder, placing it over the still bleeding back of Eddie’s mouth. He was about to put in the second one on the opposite side when the smaller boy broke the silence with a hoarse voice.

“You’re a dickhead…”

A small but sudden sense of guilt crept to him from the way he snapped at his friends a minute ago but he decided to ignore it. His face softened with Eddie’s voice and he finished the task at hand, throwing the package on the coffee table as well.

When he fell back against the couch, he hesitated a little before sliding his hand behind Eddie again. But when he did it, Eddie immediately leaned on him and turned his back to Ben. His head fell in the crook of Richie’s neck, resting against his shoulder.

Eddie knew what he was doing, he just didn’t know why he was doing it. Everything that went in his head was being done, not a second thought was given to anything. Three hours had passed since he woke up in the dentist, so the dizzy sensation was wearing off a little. He was aware of the stiffness that Richie’s body was when he got closer, it made him wonder if he was doing something wrong. He didn’t let go nonetheless.

When Eddie felt Richie’s grip tighten around him and his shoulders relaxing, he allowed himself to nestle his nose on the skin of his neck.

It made Richie squirm with tingles and bite his tongue. This was too much to handle, it broke his heart to think Eddie didn’t know what he was doing or that he wouldn’t really remember this or even know he did it.

They settled like that for some minutes, Eddie even tried to watch the movie. During this time Richie started feeling fidgety and nervous. From his peripherical vision, he felt watched, which never bothered him before but now it certainly was. He was about to find out if someone was looking at them when the front door was unlocked.

When Sonia entered the room and walked towards them, Richie took his hands off from Eddie and kept them to himself.

Eddie tried to sit upright. She made a quick check-up on him that consisted of feeling his forehead for a possible fever and inspecting once again the inside of his mouth, taking this opportunity to remove the cotton once again.

“How are you feeling, Eddie?”

“I’m fine, m’not dizzy anymore.”

She nodded back and gave him a small smile. “Don’t you want to rest?” She hinted on his friends leaving.

“No, Ma, I’m okay.” He reassured.

That was enough to please her and she left to go grab a glass of water along with the pills.

Richie watched her leave and as soon as her figure disappeared through the door, Eddie lunged forwards and did what his mind told him to. He dragged his tongue along Richie’s cheek, quickly. Poor Richie jolted on his seat, wide eyes and soon-to-be red face. He was about to squeal something along the lines of ‘What the hell?’ when Sonia came back. He watched as Eddie acted regularly and took his pills, never breaking his face into giving something away.

Richie cleaned his cheek with the back of his palm only to find some smeared red on his skin. He soon understood that Eddie did it on purpose to tease him in front of his mother.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine, Eddie?” And he answered her positively while placing new compresses inside his mouth. “Alright… Tell me if you need anything. I’m going to make you dinner.”

Gulping down the urge to freak out, Richie caught Bev’s gaze once they were left alone again. She was fighting back a smirk and he mouthed ‘Help me’ while Eddie planted his head back on Richie’s shoulder. Bev winked at him with a smug drawn on her face, going back to her quiet conversation with Ben.

He inhaled sharply and tried to focus on the stupid movie but it wasn’t really working. Was anyone even watching? He hoped so. He failed to notice if anyone had watched what Eddie did.

‘It’s no big deal. Get it together, Richie. He’s not himself.’ He tried to calm down, which worked for a couple of minutes until he was ready to throw himself off the roof.

Eddie had decided to poke his tongue out again and press it against Richie’s neck. Stiffening instantly, Richie started to panic and he tried to gently push Eddie away but the other boy just giggled under his breath and this time he licked innocent and small strokes on the same spot. 

Every hair on Richie’s body stood up and he disentangled himself from Eddie in a rush. He made a move to get up, dragging Eddie along.

“Well, Eddie’s tired… so I’m gonna make him lay down before dinner.” He talked in a rush and gave a step forward while grabbing Eddie’s arm.

Eddie stopped him. “What? I’m not tiwed. I wanna watch the muovie.” His voice once again muffled but it was obvious the teasing tone underneath his words.

The others were all aware of the situation and just stared at the scene, loving it.

Richie gave a nervous giggle. “Sure you are, Eddie spaghetti. C’mon.” And he tugged his arm again, moving towards the hallway.

Once they made it to his room (Eddie only tripped once on the stairs) they sat side by side on the bed.

“Why’d you do that for, Eds?” His leg bouncing unconsciously.

Eddie shrugged as an answer, but decided to add more after seconds of silence. “I knew we-“

He paused abruptly and got up to empty his mouth on the trashcan near his desk. He settled back down on the same spot by Richie’s side. “I knew we’d both like it.”

Richie looked at him incredulous, he groaned and grasped his hair tightly. “You’re killing me here! Why do you have to be drugged?” He asked to no one in particular.

“I’m not that out of myself.” Eddie bumped their knees together. “It’s pretty worn off, I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t.” Richie inhaled profoundly, a nervous tingle on his stomach. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Or what I’m supposed to do.” Their eyes locked again and for a brief moment, Eddie looked sober.

“Just lay down with me and stay for dinner.” Richie wanted to protest, but it would be a failed attempt due to Eddie’s tired condition. He hesitated but nodded in response, watching as Eddie got under the covers. He crawled his way to Eddie’s side and mimicked his actions, loving the weight of the blankets and sheet over his body. They shared the pillow and nestled closely on each other’s space, eyes locked for a long time and feeling warm all over.

“What about the others?” Richie whispered through the silence after some minutes.

“They probably know we’re not going back down.” The anesthesia was definitely wearing off by now. Despite the painkillers he took, Eddie could feel his mouth tingling in soreness and it hurt to move his tongue around. The bloody taste was uncomfortable and persisting, but he found himself feeling more than okay when he felt his best friend’s arm settle over his figure and hugging him close.

By now, Richie was sure that he was high along with Eddie. Maybe they were high on different things, maybe not. He was drugged and lost on his own feelings, only hopping that Eddie’s loopy ones mattered just as much.

If tomorrow they would have to deal with the teasing, then let it be.

    “Did you catch that?” Bev turned to Bill as soon as the two boys made their way upstairs.

“Of course I d-did. I don’t joke around, B-Bev.” Bill said smugly and got up from his spot at the recliner to go sit on empty seat of the couch.

“Oh, thank god, I was trying so hard not to laugh.” Mike admitted while he moved closer to watch the video Bill was about to show.

“Right? They were right between us! I can’t believe Richie thought we couldn’t see it.” Ben was also eager to see everything again, this time not from the corner of his eye.

Stan turned around on the carpet to face his friends. “Wait, were you filming this whole time?” Bill nodded back at him, smirking. “The whole thing?”

“You bet!”

He got up from the floor to squeeze himself between Bill and Ben. “I can’t believe we’re getting new blackmail content.”

From her side of the couch, Beverly spoke while leaning in to watch closely.

“Right back at you, Stanley. Right back at you.”

Notes: Sorry it took me longer to post, I was figuring out what to do with loopy Eddie. This got longer than expected.. It's here! Hope I didn't build up anyone's exectations and let you down or anything, hopefully? I want to thank everyone that read this and commented and gave kudos, this story got way more feedback than I was expecting and it's amazing! Can't wait to post a fanfic I've been working on for months now, it's Reddie as well, maybe you'll read it too, who knows. Anyway, tell me your opinions, good or bad, I can't take them Thank you so much, and bless you if you read this till the end                                                                                                                     - Alex

Taglist: @richietoaster @salty-kaspbrak @youtubequeens @reddieseggrolls @addimagination @20gayteeneds @pastelstozier @noodleboyshane @reddieforlove

[mysticalreadingnerd]

Let Me Warm Your Heart Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

Words: 1876

Summary: Wishful thinking can often bring dreams into reality. Or is it the other way around?

Disclaimer: Don’t own my boy Credence or anything of FBAWTFT, sadly. GIF credits to the owner.

Warnings: triggers for abuse, blood, ANGST and depression.

The belt sliced through the air, its slick slap resounding across the room like a whip. Credence whimpered loudly, the leather slicing through his skin and drawing blood from the welts that crisscrossed across his hands. Tears had made his vision hazy and stained his face into a blotchy red as his Ma struck down again and again and again, unrelenting in her blows. She hit him with more force than every preceding strike, trying to vent her anger the only way she knew. The force of the last lash brought him to his knees and the pain tore at his being, becoming so unbearable that he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

Darkness clouded his eye-sight momentarily as Mary Lou’s livid face stared at him with revulsion. “You should remember this the next time you lie. You wretched, wicked boy! No sins will be tolerated as long as you are sheltered in this house!” The agony of the hits made him crumble further into himself as the pain rippled across his consciousness. The next thing he knew he was lying on the floor of his room.

He had probably passed out from the pain, his delirium carrying him upto his bed, the last small sanctuary in this house at least. He was unaware as to what time it was but the cold night air that flowed through the open window and chilled him with the icy hands of the December winter brought the rough estimate to a few hours. A shadow passed along the window and he looked up. The sight that he saw made him want to cry again. But this time, out of relief. Y/N had somehow managed to enter his house, his very room without detection. He stared at her unblinkingly, wondering how she had got past his Ma… 

Horror dawned upon him with the realisation of her presence. Oh no! If his mother were to find out that she was here… he shook his head at her vehemently, “No. You have to leave…if she…if she finds…” she shushed him, placing a finger on his lips and he fell silent, enthralled by that one touch. She motioned for him to be quiet and crept toward the door, with the stealth of a seasoned lurker. She heard for any sounds emanating from outside and once she had made sure that no one was awake, she stepped towards him.

Y/N guided him towards the bed, settling him on the ragged cot and sitting beside him. She motioned for Credence to give his hands into her hold. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to show the real extent of the damage caused. His conflicted gaze searched in her eyes and seeing the empathy in them, he brought his mangled fingers forward. She let out a hissed breath on seeing the bloody mess that were his hands. Her first touch was as gentle as a feather but still a whimper escaped him, despite his efforts to drown them out. The pain was agonising and it was taking all his effort to not cry out loud. 

“Shh…Credence, honey, just wait for a bit. I will make sure the pain goes away.” He stared at her, not believing her comforting words but thankful for them nonetheless. “I… I was just hungry… and cold… so cold… I asked for one spoonful more, that’s it… I didn’t want Chastity to get hurt… hurt because of me. So I lied, said that the portions went bad. I didn’t want to… to sin… I promise. I promise I won’t, ever…”

The tears streaming down his cheeks soaked the collar of his shirt and the snot must have made him even more unsightly than usual. Disregarding all that, Y/N opened her arms in a silent beckon for him to come close and he melted into her embrace, his pain dulled to a persistent throb now that she was there. 

She wiped his face with her sleeve and her hand stroked the base of his skull, drawing soothing circles as he hiccupped, with his head laid upon her shoulder. With immense care she took one of his hands into hers and warmth spread through it, a dull glow emanating from her hand to his. He stared at their linked fingers, awestruck by the miracle happening before his very eyes. The searing pain dulled to a throbbing ache before slowly diminishing into nothingness. She took his other hand and repeated the process while he watched as her face scrunched up in concentration, not comprehending the scene unfolding in front of him. “How?” the word escaped his mouth as he continued staring long after Y/N was done tending to his wounds. She just smiled and winked at him as if to say, ‘guess’. 

Was this what his mother called magic? Was the soothing touch that healed and this warm glow that emanated from the woman he loved known as witchcraft? If that were true, if this was the sin that his Ma warned everyone against he wondered whether the world as he knew it had been turned upon its head, upside down. For even if he were unaware of the worldly knowledge that others may boast of, nobody could convince him that these were the doings of Satan. An angel in every sense had just taken his hurt away and the affection which shined in her eyes was something that a devil would never be capable of. 

Before he could ask any further questions, she shook her head. “I can’t say anything here”, she gave a furtive glance at the door and then at the window, “I had to make sure you were okay. Just sleep now, alright?” when he made no motion to move, she got up and shifted him so that he was lying on the cot. She tucked him under the lone blanket and was about to leave when Credence grabbed her hand, surprising both himself and her and said, “Stay. Only till I fall asleep. Just… be with me.” Something shifted in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite figure out but she nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. He looked at her sitting there and as their eyes locked, he wordlessly moved so that there was enough space for the both of them.

Understanding his silent plea, Y/N lifted the blanket and snuggled in with him, pulling him into her embrace once again. Credence moulded his body to hers, laying his head on her chest as she wrapped him in a hug, stroking his hair with gentle caresses. His now healed hands, hesitant at first lay at her sides but when she shifted to make space for him, silently acquiescing, he placed them around her waist tightening his hold on her small body. Her heartbeat thudded in his ears as he timed his own breathing to it, sleep making his eyelids heavy. “Please don’t leave me.” He mumbled, half asleep, his fingers tightened even more at her waist, giving the momentary illusion that if he held onto her tight enough, she wouldn’t disappear into thin air like he feared she would. The silence stretched on and he wondered whether he had spoken the words aloud or not. Her reply came like the wind weaving through trees, barely audible, “I wish I could stay with you, love.”

The words were whispered like a church confession and he sleepily lifted his head to look at her. The shadows danced across her face and before his mind could process what he was doing, he shifted along her length their legs intertwining with each other. With mere inches separating their faces and the distance fast diminishing, he whispered back, “I love you.” Credence pressed his lips to hers, his cold ones seeking and receiving her warm, chapped ones. It was slow, hazy and made up of something quite similar to the magic (if you could call it that) he had witnessed moments ago. The unhurried, languid movements cocooned him in a protective shell, even if it might be false. Quite against his wishes, his eyes closed as he retreated and a soft sigh escaped Y/N, their breaths mingling in the cold air. He should have been awake to know what she said next, to see what expression her face held, whether she was angry, disappointed or just sad. 

But the fatigue of the day weighed heavy upon him and before he knew it he went under the spell of a dreamless sleep. What felt like an unquantifiable amount of time passed as his body went through sensations and motions best known to the realm of unconsciousness. A sudden external shift pulled him from this weightless state and he noticed that he was lying alone in his bed. A gentle hand stroked his forehead a kiss was placed on his temple. He tried to clutch to that familiar touch that felt so much like home, hold onto it with everything he had and never let it go but it escaped his fumbling grasp. “I’m sorry.” He wondered whether his sleep induced mind had imagined those words or distorted them into something else entirely.   

A soft voice called him as a wetness formed in his half closed eyes. Credence. He wondered why they were calling him now. Credence. The wetness leaked from the corner of his eye, dripping along the length of his nose before falling on the pillow and dampening it. Credence. He noticed that the pillow had become quite soaked, how long had he been like this? “Credence!” his eyes fluttered awake as his hand grasped the one shaking him awake. Wide eyes peered into his as Modesty looked at her brother, half dazed and disoriented from sleep. “Credence, you will need to wake up soon. Ma will be calling.” He let go of her hand, the cuts on his hand stabbing him like knives against the rough fabric of Modesty’s shirt. He stared at the lacerations, the blood crusted on them, barely healed and raw. “Yeah”, he croaked in response, his voice gravelly with sleep. She left the room and he slumped back into his pillow, burrowing his head into the damp fabric.

He subconsciously cradled his hand, eyes shut tight as the tears flowed freely. He felt sorry as well. Because what his mind had conjured up would always be just that, a broken dream that held the sorrow of his reality. And it being a dream didn’t dull the pain. Not just of his flesh wounds, no. The fact that he would never be able to hold her like he was clinging to his very life (because that was what she was) and be held with the same tenderness in return, tell her how much he loved her and see the affection reflected in her eyes, the way they sparkled in the dream. And perhaps, he thought finally, openly sobbing into the pillow. This last thought made him cry harder than before. Perhaps, he would never be able to see her ever again. The pain was there, ever present, throbbing and real. And it would never go away. Because people could leave you in seconds without even a goodbye, but feelings lasted for a long  time. Sometimes they lasted for a life time. 

Tagging : @multifandom-slytherin, @mysticracoon, @thequeerishere555 @daeshaunex2 @retardedhumanhere

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

A/N: Tried my hand at angst, wonder if it worked…? A small make up chapter for the previous lack of updates. No? Okay, I’ll just leave this here and back away slowly…

~ Mystical reading nerd

[soccergirl112]

May 31st, 2017

My last day of nannying. I was with the same family for 4 years, 2 months, and 3 days. Naturally, I didn’t work every day. Only for 3-4 school days per week. Not usually over breaks, although I did babysit from time to time when he was younger. He’s 14 now, so he didn’t really need that anymore. I understand. But when I started, he was only 9. A couple weeks from being 10, but still. He wasn’t really supposed to be home by himself yet. Now, he can’t have enough alone time. And I get it. I’ve been there.

But just because I understand, doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. I am so fucking grateful that I had to work yesterday. If I hadn’t, I would sat at home, crying and shit all day. During a break from teaching, I wrote him a letter. 4 pages. 4 really sappy, emotional pages. I’m sure he was thrilled with how much I had for him to read. I did it, thinking it would hurt less if I could get a bunch of stuff down on the page. That maybe then, I would get it out of my system and I would be okay. Turns out, I was very wrong. But fuck it, it was worth a try.

I wrote about all the standard stuff. About how proud of him I am, about how I think of him like a brother. Gave him some very standard and cliché life advice, of course. I reminisced a little, because I couldn’t help myself. And I also told him that I would be checking in with him. To make sure that high school is going well, to find out how he’s doing. Not just because I’m completely incapable of saying goodbye and letting go, but because I feel like I have responsibilities with this kid now, and I have to make sure that he’s doing okay. He’s an only child like me, and I know that there were millions of times where I felt alone in high school. I always wished I had someone to lean on. My parents were very supportive, much like his are, but you don’t always want to tell them everything, I wrote down my contact information, even though I know he has it in his phone already, because I didn’t want him to have any excuses to not contact me if he needs me. 

I just wish I had saved the rough draft. Or taken a picture, or something. It was pretty good. And I know I’ll forget most of what I wrote with time. I gave it to him right before I left. He said he may never see me again, I begged him to not say that (and also told him I was going to kidnap him sometimes and make him catch up with me over Slurpees or ice cream or anything he wants. But it’s definitely happening). We took a picture together because neither of his parents were home and she wanted the memory. He hugged me (for the first time since he was 9), and he walked me to the door for the last time. I made it into my car, and started sobbing as soon as I started to drive away. I went up one street and had to pull over so I could cry. And I proceeded to cry the entire way home. Tears streaming, breath staggered. I was a hot mess. Anyone driving next to me could tell, too. And you know what? I’m totally cool with that. I SHOULD have been a mess. 

But this is a hard transition. I am so excited for him to go to high school, and I am so excited to see the kind of person he grows up to be- selfishly, I feel like I should get some credit for the content of his character. But there were a lot of memories that I didn’t put in the letter, because if I had, it would have taken me an entire day to write it, and it would have been 50 pages long instead of 4. Because typing is easier, and because I need to get it out of my system, and because I never pay attention to the number of followers that I have (although I imagine that it’s still at zero), I’m going to write some of them out here. Because they matter to me. This is for me. So here we go.

I remember the first day I drove him home. My car was still silver, and I didn’t even know how to open my trunk yet. His mom met me at the school, and I took him home, so I could use the carpool lane (I had only been to his house twice and didn’t entirely know the way yet). We made small talk on the way home. I asked him a million questions. Turned out, he played piano like me. We both loved Bruno Mars. His favorite subject at the time was English. I was an English major. Within about 2 weeks, we got more comfortable. He told me stories about what happened at school. I started learning the names of his friends. It was nice. I got him a Bruno Mars piano book for his 10th birthday, along with a package of Mike n Ikes because he told me once that they were his favorite candy. He loved it. He still has the book, and he’s played stuff from it for me many times in our years together, although he’s a bit past that level now.

I remember Mr. Blair. His English teacher, who was going to tutor him in the summer, got arrested for trying to meet up with a minor. Turned out, he had gotten caught in a chat room. The 12 year old he thought he had been talking to was a cop. My boy was questioned by the police the next day, along with many others in his class. Mr. Blair never touched him. But he still cried. I picked him up that day and took him to Rocket Fizz, a candy store down the street. Because that’s what we did every Friday (every Friday, he had exams in all of his classes. I took him to the candy store every week to celebrate getting through it. He had anxiety, so I tried to give him tips and help him all the time. I thought the reward would help his nerves. Over time, it did). We weren’t super close yet, but that was the first time I saw his mom cry. 

I remember taking him to his karate lessons twice a week. We would sit in the Subway next door while he did his homework. He LOVED Subway back then. It’s all about Five Guys, Chipotle, and Togo’s now. But back then, he wanted Subway almost every time I picked him up. Sometimes we would sit by Starbuck’s because of the WiFi, but most of the time, we were there. At the same table. And we always did his math homework together. I still remember what his sandwich order was back then: turkey sandwich on wheat. No cheese. With lettuce, onions, olives, (sometimes peppers), mayo, and salt and pepper. He was just like me like that. He always ordered the same things. Each place we went to, he had “the usual.” I loved that about him. Anyways, his lessons were at 6. I would stay with him until warm ups, and then I got to go home. Sometimes I would sit with the parents and watch for a little while first. He was so cute and little. He usually wouldn’t acknowledge me once he was in the zone. But I didn’t care. He cared about it so much back then. He used to go to Baltimore for tournaments every summer.

I remember making special mix CDs for my car because I didn’t want him to hear swear words yet. The process of making CDs literally doubled because I would only put clean songs on there. He used to tell me all the time that his parents swore in front of him, but I wanted to protect him from that. I knew he would grow up and get into swearing eventually, just like I did. But I didn’t want to expose him too soon. His voice hadn’t even begun to change yet. He was still so young and perfect to me. Gradually, of course, this changed. By the end of our time together, we swore so comfortably around each other that you would have thought that we did it for years. But in reality, that only started several months before it was over. He used to sing with me in the car. We used to show each other music. I discovered Twenty One Pilots (and a couple hip-hop songs by various artists) because of him. He started listening to Panic! at the Disco and Imagine Dragons because of me. We always joked about how the other person’s taste in music was trash. 

I remember sitting in my non-air conditioned car on way too many hot days. He wasn’t happy about it. Neither was I. But he took it like a champ and only ever complained a handful of times.

I remember going through a brief period after a really bad breakup when I thought to myself, “If anything ever happened to me.... if I was in the hospital dying for whatever reason, I think he’s the only one who would care.” Now, I never think that he’s the only one, but he means more to me than most other people do.

I remember when way too many people started asking us if I was his mom/sister/aunt/cousin whatever. We got tired of explaining that I was just the nanny, but I had been with the family for long enough that I was basically honorary family. We ended up just telling people that I was his big sister when strangers asked, because it was easier. Never mind the fact that he’s half-Japanese and half-Jewish, and I’m mostly of European heritage with some Native American and Indonesian sprinkled in.... but people thought we were related all the time. He used to laugh whenever people thought I was his mom. He would call me old. I said it was because he was super short. We stopped calling me his sister as he got older, but that went on for a long time.

I remember when I got in a car accident and needed a completely new hood. Then, most of my car was silver, and the entire hood was black. It was a spectacle. I was embarrassed every time I drove it. And that little guy told me how cool he thought it was when he saw my car for the first time after the repairs. What a little liar. But it was so sweet. My heart melted. I had gotten into the accident after dropping him off at a play practice on the edge of downtown. When my dad picked me up from the scene after the tow truck was squared out, I cried the whole way home. I was just so grateful that my boy hadn’t been in the car with me when it happened. I would have died.

I remember him asking me sex ed questions because his dad wasn’t really talking to him about sex yet, and he had missed sex ed at his school that year (he was super sick that week). It was very awkward, but I was touched that he trusted me enough to talk about it and ask thoughtful questions.

I remember him talking to be about school dances but refusing to talk to his parents about it. He was horrified every time his parents offered to chaperone. He wouldn’t even talk about the general details of the dance with his mom. His dad was allowed to drop him off, but he never wanted to talk details with anyone but me.

I remember when he bailed on his bike, and they thought he had a hairline fracture. He was going quickly down a hill, lost control, and slammed into the side of a boulder that was by the edge of a little park in his gated community. Luckily, people were at the park, so he got help with basic first aid right away. But it was at the very end of the year, and he had to wear a brace on his leg (he was supposed to go to an Airsoft camp that summer). He ended up being fine in time for camp, but he was heartbroken and so embarrassed after it happened. The parents said the wouldn’t need me that week, since he was home all day, was doing homework on his own, and didn’t have any appointments he needed rides to. Knowing I wasn’t needed, but feeling ridiculously sad and guilty for him, I drove the half hour to his house every day that week, just to hang out with him. I didn’t want him to feel alone. His mom tried to pay me for my time, but I couldn’t take it. He wasn’t a job to me. He was just my friend. My little brother.

I remember playing water games with him in the summer. We hit water balloons with a Wiffle Ball bat. I told him to not aim for my pants, since my phone was in my pocket. And naturally, he then started pelting water balloons at me.  Including my pants. My phone was fine. I was kind of pissed right at first, but soon after that, we were chasing each other around the backyard with water balloons. I went home soaked that day. And it was awesome.

I remember his Bar Mitzvah. I remember him sitting in my car to get lessons from his Rabbi. I remember trying to help his mom plan and organize stuff. I will always remember showing up alone because my date bailed super last minute. But I will always remember how frigging amazing I looked that day, and how I sat up front with his family. I will remember how he looked at me during the ceremony and smiled. And even though he was already giving me a lot of sass by then, he told me how happy he was that I had been there for him. Especially since I went by myself. We all cried when his dad spoke during the ceremony. But it was beautiful.

I remember taking him to play practices, hair cuts, dentist appointments, and even one doctor appointment (I was borrowing one of his mom’s cars while mine was getting repaired). 

I remember him losing a tooth in my car, right after I picked him up from school. It was one of his last baby teeth. 

I remember him making himself gag trying to find pictures of people vomiting on the internet because he knew I got freaked out by it (talk about a backfire). 

I remember telling him to run laps around his backyard once because he had had a soda and was wiggling too much to work on his homework.

I remember him coming to my mom’s summer camp for a week our second to last year in business. He was difficult, but we recovered well.

I remember getting Slurpees with him almost every day his 6th grade year and driving around with him everywhere, because he went to tutoring at 5:30 every day and we would kill time until then. We got a lot of time to talk. We got really close during that time.

I remember finally giving him some control over the music in my car- and how he quickly went mad with power.

I remember his brief obsession with Hamilton and how he begged me to play the music in my car for close to a month. And I let him, because even though he was more prone to being a brat by then, I was trying to encourage his love of music at any cost.

I remember all of the super dark jokes we would make together. How he used to make me laugh until I cried sometimes. Joking about death and hating me and everything in between. And I always had to explain it to people, because it sounds horrible when you actually say it. But we always knew. When I was in a bad mood, he always stopped. He went very close to the line sometimes, but he never crossed it.

I remember him trying to hard to make me mad so many times, and then being so salty when he was unsuccessful. Deep down, I think he was happy that I didn’t get mad easily.

I remember playing hide and seek at his school. Even though he was in middle school already. And the texts he would send with it when it was taking me forever to find him. And how much he cheated. Dork. 

I remember taking him to the grocery store once, and being reminded of exactly how little he still is because he didn’t know how to find or pick out any of the produce he was looking for.

I remember him hating the colored contact lenses that I got. He never said anything super mean, but he said they made me look weird and that he liked my normal eyes better.

I remember him telling me that I had the cutest, littlest ears he had ever seen when he put his phone up to my ear so i could hear a song he was talking about.

I remember threatening that I would make him go into Ulta with me if he didn’t start to chill... and how that led to immediate behavior changes.

I remember talking him through arguments with his parents. Talking about life and deep things. Asking him about his future in a vague way that made it easy to talk about. About his interests. About whether he wants to have a family someday. About where he wants to go to college. And he asked me about mine, too. It was never just one-sided. And for that, I am very grateful.

I am grateful for his family. I am grateful for the memories I have written down, among the millions of others that I did not even begin to mention. 4 years is a very long time to know someone so closely. And my heart is broken, but I am so thankful for the times I got to spend with him. For the laughs, tears, and learning/teaching moments. Right now, I’m just holding onto his graduation next week. I need it. I need to know I have it. That this wasn’t the last time that I’ll see him.

He will be my little brother forever. And you know something? That feeling isn’t going to go away. Not now, not ever. I love him. And while I feel super lame for being so upset (when I knew this was coming), it’s healthy. I’m grieving. Just because I won’t be picking him up from school anymore (at least, not consistently) doesn’t mean that I won’t see him anymore. I’m going to make it work. It hurts like a bitch right now, but it will be okay. We may not see each other as often, but we will still grow together.