Dear Eddie (rewrite)

11

I woke up to the slight tugging of my hair. I turn to face Eddie and he's already awake, playing with my hair.

He looked at me with a soft smile and the smallest hint of disappointment. "What?" I ask, concerned about what could be bothering him already.

"You messed up my braid," he playfully sighed. "That'll cost you later," he chuckled, shaking his head.

I smile back at him. "If you say so," I shrug. "Hey, who taught you how to braid anyway?"

"My friend always wanted me to braid his hair so it could look like mine. I tried to tell him it wouldn't work but he did not care. And I was right, it looked like shit." Eddie always talks with his hands. I think that's the reason why I could sit and listen to him talk for hours.

We both laugh at the thought of Eddie's friend before falling into a comfortable silence while I enjoyed the feeling of Eddie's hands in my hair.

"So," Eddie said enthusiastically, hopping up into a sitting position. "What do you want to do today?" He sat criss-cross in front of me.

I hummed, thinking of anything we could do without leaving this creepy-ass house. "Smoke weed?" I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows.

"BINGO! We have a winner!" Eddie said, throwing me over his shoulder causing me to squeal. We only had to move five feet across the room but I guess Eddie didn't want me walking.

"Now," I reach for my bag, unzipping the small front pocket. "Do we just get high? Or, do we get fucked up?" I give him a playful smirk.

"I don't know Y/n, seems risky if I'm honest. We're two teenagers, all alone, in an abandoned house. Would getting fucked up really help the situation?" I give Eddie an extremely confused look, considering this man is a drug dealer.

He breaks out into the most contagious laugh. "I'm just fucking with you! Let's get fucked!"

I laugh at him, bringing the bag back onto the bed.

"Do you want to smoke?" I ask with a blunt in one hand. "Or take edibles?" I ask with brownies in the other.

He hummed, pretending like he has half a thought going through his brain. "Why not both?" He smiled.

"Sounds good to me Mr. Munson," I shrug with a laugh.

I set the bag of brownies on the bed and grab the lighter out of the same small pocket of my bag.

"Hold on," Eddie said, taking the blunt and lighter from my hands. "Hey!" I yell out.

"Let's take the edible first and while we wait for it to kick in, we can smoke the blunt," he suggests to which I agree, nodding my head.

_____

Here we are, somehow on the floor with our backs against the bed. Our heads are laying on the mattress as we both stare up at the ceiling.

"This place looks older than before," Eddie said.

"It does," I reply, looking at the rotting wood panels of the ceiling.

"When I smile, I can feel every muscle in my face move. Can you?" He asked, looking at me with a smile.

"Oh shit," I say, laughing and touching my face. "Yeah! I can. Fuck, that's weird," I said, amazed. Every thought that is coming to my brain is spilling out of my mouth at this point.

"Why is it like, I can see everything, but nothing at the same time?" I ask Eddie as I turn my head to face him.

His bloodshot eyes widen. "Woah, I've never thought of that," he smiled again.