Cheerleader (Stranger Things: Eddie Munson x Reader)

part 8

Sleep came quickly, but that didn't mean it was comfortable. When you woke up it felt like you had nails hammered into every inch of your body. Your muscles ached, partly from being sore from walking and the other part being how uncomfortable the forest floor was. You hoped that Eddie had slept better, but there was a large chance that he didn't. When you awoke he was still sleeping, arms still wrapped around you as they had been for the past few hours while you slept. There was no chance he was going to let go of you or move, even if it wasn't the most comfortable position. Even when he slept, he subconsciously wanted to be close to you, touching you.

It felt like there was something crawling on your cheek, but you didn't want to swat at it and disturb the person sleeping peacefully next to you. He breathed in and out evenly, air fanning over your hair through his slightly parted lips. A large part of you wanted to turn around and look at him, to study his features when he didn't have a worry in the world.

The crawling feeling on your face wasn't going away and if whatever it was didn't get off soon you were going to go insane. You tried multiple things: twitching your cheek, blowing air at it through the corners of your mouth, shaking your head slightly. None worked. As a last resort you ever so slowly lifted your hand to swipe at your face, letting out a sigh when the thing finally flew off you and hit the dirt and grass mixed ground.

It was a ladybug. An orange one. When you were a child, ladybugs were "your animal," or insect technically. Countless hats and outfits that were red with black spots, baby utensils and plastic plates with ladybugs, and vinyl wallpaper with grass, flowers, and the red insects covering your nursery. Your mom would gush about how adorable you were with your chubby cheeks, somewhat resembling the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from the Ghostbusters movie with your fat rolls. Your mother thought it was the cutest thing ever, but she was your mother. She was definitely biased.

Oh, how simple it was to be a baby, spending your days eating, sleeping, and shitting. As you get older the world just gets more and more complicated, more and more responsibilities are put on you. That's life. At the ripe age of eighteen you realized that life wasn't fair. You had actually realized that at the age of twelve when your favorite cousin, and only friend at the time, moved across the country. That realization was nothing compared to how other people came to the conclusion that life isn't fair, but to your twelve-year-old self it was the worst thing that could happen to a kid. Life would continue to remind you that it wasn't fair, that nothing came without a price, and nothing lasts forever.

The best thing to do was be grateful for what you did have and find the positive in every situation no matter how dreadful it was. Chrissy had died. That was final. She was never coming back. No one could ever replace her or come close to being as bright as she. However, there was a small light that had come from all this. That light was Eddie.

Just months ago, you never thought that any of this would happen. You imagined that you would go on through your senior year, graduate, go to a college that your parents would help you pay for, graduate, get a job, maybe get married and have kids. Now you scoffed at that idea.

A soft groan came from behind you. "Good morning," Eddie said in a gravelly voice. He lifted one arm and stretched it up towards the sky.

"Good morning sunshine," you replied. "How'd you sleep?" You shifted and turned around, now just a few inches between your faces. You were so close you could see the peach fuzz that covered his skin, the slight stubble that was sprouting from his chin, how his long eyelashes casted a slight shadow over his eyes, and all the creases and pores that made Eddie's face Eddie's face. A beautiful face. He stared at you with his big doe eyes, a small shy smile coming to his face at your proximity and analyzing expression.

"I slept alright," he said, trying to hold his breath. He didn't want you to smell his morning breath, which was probably unpleasant from a few days of not being able to brush his teeth. He was so conscious of everything about himself. He didn't want you to be repulsed. Eddie didn't know it but that could never happen. You yourself didn't fully know the extent, but you were too fond of this man in front of you for something as miniscule as his breath deter you.