𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a surprise helps you remember exactly why you love eddie munson, and promises of the future are made.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (MINORS DNI, heavy petting), a smattering of angst, allusions to infidelity, discussions of pregnancy and marriage, mild housewife kink, mild breeding kink
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
True to your word, you and Eddie spoke every night. He always promised to answer his phone around eight or so, about the time you would be having dinner with him if you were still at home, and you waited by the communal phones every night for the clock to strike. You tried to remember that the communal phones were just that- communal- but hearing Eddie's voice every night was helping keep you sane.
Classes weren't difficult, not anymore than Click's class was in junior year, but, where you anticipated spending your brain power on schoolwork, you spent it mostly on Eddie. You wondered what he was doing almost every second of the day- you used to spend every second together, and now it was a near black-out from him. It was only your phone calls that helped you get through the day.
The phone bank at the end of the hall had a little bench that you could sit on, and you carried yourself there with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You had had a hard day; it had been raining and the autumn breeze was finally bringing a chill to the air, and you had been completely blindsided by a pop quiz in your Intro Literature class. You were pretty sure you failed it, and the grade had been weighing heavily on your mind.
As you sat and took the phone off the wall, you tried hard to imagine what Eddie's arms around you would feel like. He would hold you tight, his chest and arms warm, smelling like his cheap cologne and cigarettes, and he would say "Man, fuck that quiz, don't you worry about it, sweetheart."
You punched in his phone number, letting the old rotary dial swirl after each number, and you nestled the phone against your cheek as you pulled the blanket tight, trying to pretend like it was Eddie. You listened to the line ring and ring and ring, and you frowned when you got their machine, Wayne's voice saying: "You've called the Munsons, we can't come to the phone right now, leave a message after the beep, please." You hung the phone back up, a sour feeling in your stomach. Eddie never missed your call. Maybe he was in the shower, or he had left the trailer to get some dinner. While there were a million explanations, you hated to think that maybe Eddie intentionally didn't answer the phone.
