To The End || EDDIE MUNSON x READER||

Yikes

Eddie invited me out again — and of course, I said yes before even asking where we were going.
He just told me to "dress comfortable" and gave me that signature grin that made it impossible to say no.

When his van finally pulled into the Skate Palace parking lot, I practically bounced in my seat.

"We're going skating!?" I gasped.

"Yup," he said, grinning as he parked.

"I did not think that you—" I stopped mid-sentence, still processing it. "Wait. You actually like skating?"

He chuckled. "You never asked."

Before he could even finish, I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the entrance. The smell of popcorn, floor wax, and cheap nachos hit me the second we stepped inside. Neon lights flickered over the disco ball as 'Take On Me' played faintly through the speakers.

We laced up our skates and headed to the rink. The moment Eddie stood, he nearly toppled over.

"Eddie," I said through my laugh, "when was the last time you skated?"

"Umm... I don't know," he said, pushing his hair out of his face.

"Oh my god." I tried not to laugh too hard. "I'll help you."

I grabbed his hand and guided him carefully toward the floor. "Just act like you're walking, okay? Slow and steady."

He nodded, but his legs said otherwise. He wobbled like a baby deer, gripping my hands like his life depended on it.

"Eddie, if you fall, I fall!" I laughed.

"Then let go," he warned, which only made me laugh harder.

There were people zipping past us, so I pulled him to the side of the rink. "Okay, lesson one — don't go too fast because you won't be able to stop, but don't go too slow or the skaters behind you will hate you."

"Yes, coach," he teased, trying again.

He took a few tentative glides before one of his feet slid out from under him. He grabbed both my hands for balance.

"Eddie, don't let your feet drift apart too much or you'll—"

And there he went again, nearly face-planting.

After a while, though, he started to get the hang of it. He wasn't graceful — not even close — but he was confident enough to let me drag him into the main circle.

"See?" I said proudly. "You're doing it!"

"Barely," he muttered, but there was a grin on his face.

Everything was going perfectly until I heard him shout—

"Shit, shit, shit!"

I turned just in time to see a little girl topple in front of him. Eddie's eyes went wide as he tried to dodge her. I pulled him toward me to keep him from crashing into her, but his weight threw me off balance.

The next thing I knew, we were both on the ground in a heap of tangled limbs.

"Ow," I groaned, shaking my hand. Pain shot through my fingers.

"Shit," Eddie said, scrambling up. "C'mon, let's sit for a second."

He helped me to my feet, steady despite the skates, and guided me to a nearby table.

"My hand hurts so bad," I said, wincing.

"Let me see." He gently took my hand in his, his touch surprisingly soft. I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" I looked — and my middle finger was bent completely sideways. "Oh my god."

"Don't worry," he said quickly. "It's probably nothing. Uh, do you wanna go now?"

I nodded, and he immediately started unlacing my skates, sliding my shoes back on for me like a total gentleman — a panicked one, but still.

Once we got to the van, he glanced over at me. "Let me see it again."

I held out my hand reluctantly. He studied it, brow furrowed, then — before I could ask what he was doing — snapped my finger back into place.

I screamed. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"

"IT'S FIXED!" he yelled back, holding up his hands defensively.

I stared at him — then at my finger. It was... straight.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," I said, laughing in disbelief.

He grinned proudly. "I used to fall a lot as a kid. I'd dislocate my fingers all the time. Yours looked just like that."

I shook my head, still half laughing, half horrified. "You're insane."

"Yeah," he said, grinning wider. "But you like me anyway."

"Unfortunately," I teased, shoving his shoulder lightly.

He laughed, eyes softening in that way that made my heart skip.

On the way back, we stopped for milkshakes — chocolate for him, vanilla for me — and sat in the van with the windows cracked, talking and laughing until the lights of the skating rink flickered off in the distance.

When he finally dropped me off at home, I didn't want to get out. I didn't say that, though. I just smiled and said goodnight.

And as I walked up the driveway, I could feel him watching — waiting until I was safely inside before driving away.

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