Hands Down (eddie x chrissy)

Four.

Chrissy squealed and took off out of the kitchen, down the hallway towards his bedroom.  The sound of her laughter was music to his ears.  He walked down the path leading to his room.  He stood in the doorway, bowl of popcorn in one hand, and in the other; a handful of ammo.  He found her standing in his bedroom, admiring all the posters on his walls.

That's a goddamn sight.  Chrissy Cunningham. In my bedroom.

The room was messy and cluttered, but not dirty.  A single lamp lit the room dimly.  Band posters, pictures and drawings covered the walls.  A large textile hand painted with the words "Corroded Coffin" was hung up.  A few empty beer cans, guitar picks, magazines and an ashtray littered the desk.  Clothes strewn over a chair and his unmade bed.  A red bedsheet covered the window.  And his most prized possession; his guitar.  The 24 fret supercharged NJ Warlock hung proudly on the wall.  Chrissy admired everything as if she was in a museum.  Eddie released the popcorn from his hand back in the bowl and leaned on his doorframe.

"Chrissy, I swear if I had known you'd be here tonight... This would have been spotless."  He said with a hint of shame.

"No I love it." She continued browsing her surroundings. "It's so perfectly imperfect."  Chrissy's entire life was so organized it made her sick.  Her own bedroom was the exact opposite of his.  A bright, well kept, feminine picturesque bedroom.  Eddie's room screamed fun, wild and free.  She loved the fact that nothing really had place, except of course for his guitar.  She walked over to it.  "Can I touch it?"

You can touch anything you want.

He nodded and went to sit on his bed.  He leaned over, turned on his stereo that sat on the table next to the bed, lowering the volume and tuning the dial until he found a pop-soft rock station.   Chrissy lightly dragged her fingers across the strings creating a soft twanging sound.  Eddie watched the cheerleader continue to pluck away at the strings.  She turned toward him and approached his bed.  She crawled onto the mattress and sat cross legged in-front of him.  "I like it here, Eddie." She said so sweetly.

He positioned the bowl of popcorn on his lap purposely to hide any excitement that he knew would be inevitable.  She reached her hand into the bowl on his lap,  scooped up a few pieces and happily munched away.

God fucking damnit.

She continued to scan the walls until her eyes were met with something on his bedside table. 

"You bring a lot girls home, Eddie?"

He followed her gaze until he saw what she was staring at.  A box of condoms sat on his table, albeit collecting dust.  His eyes widen in embarrassment. "Oh my god." He said under his breath.  He leaned over, opened the drawer and tossed them inside quickly.  "No, actually I don't. I mean.. like, I have before.. it's just that- it's been ... I really don't, but sometimes-" he was panicking.

She smiled and reassuringly touched his knee. "Eddie! It's fine." Her laugh calmed his nerves.  "I'm just messing with you."

Truth is, he had been with a handful of girls before.  A couple of girls from his senior year (the first time around), girls he met at concerts, and a few who lived in the same trailer park as him.  He was quite experienced.  Enough to know what he liked and what he was doing.  However, it had been several months since he last had a girl in his room.  He had completely forgot that box was even there.  Despite his body count, none of them were even close to being on the same level as Chrissy Cunningham.  There was no comparison. 

"I kinda figured you weren't lacking in that area."

His dark brown eyes met her deep blues. "Whatdya' mean?"