summary: You noticed Eddie had been stressed lately, more so than usual. So you decided to give him a little keepsake to cheer him up. And shove his dick down your throat, of course.
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"Goddamnit" Eddie ducks his head under the doorway of the truck, metal frame bouncing under the ferocity in which he dropped into the driver's seat, the loud and sudden slam of the door making you jump. A large huff of a sigh, stomach folding in on itself as the air rushed from his lungs.
His hands ran to his hair in an exasperated grip, leaning his head back against the seat, eyes scrunched closed. Finally some peace, he thought.
"Rough day?" you asked genuinely, a loving soft hand caressing his jean-covered thigh closest to you just above the knee. His palm skated over the back of it, tracing his painted black fingertips over the grooves of tendons before lacing them between your own, holding you there and giving you a gentle squeeze in reassurance.
His touch is like fire over yours.
"Rough day, rough week. Hell, rough month whilst we're at it" Eddie murmured, the furrow of his brow creating a series of deep lines along his forehead. You counted them, a sudden urge to kiss every single one away.
He sat there silently in a sulk; his free hand now cupping his chin, elbow resting against the door, plush bottom lip stuck out baby-like.
God that fucking pouty face.
"You're cute when you're annoyed, Eds" you tell him sweetly, flicking his bottom lip as he stared out of the window absentmindedly. He tried to swat your hand away, becoming visibly even more exasperated when he missed, causing you to giggle at his failure.
He looks pretty like this - illuminated by the cast of a warm orange glow from the streetlight outside, his pink cheeks deepening in rouge the more annoyed he becomes. Eddie glances at you, big brown eyes still twinkling despite his mood just like every other time he looked at you.
