Fight or Flight (Eddie Munson x Y/N)

13. "I Melt With You"

You feel a little nervous walking into class after your tutoring session with Eddie yesterday and your conversation with Stacy later last night. 

You feel some sort of.... something... with Eddie. An ease. A comfort. A curiosity? A spark? 

You still don't quite have him figured out yet; you don't know if his bad boy musician allure mixed with his gentler, warmer side was conscious concoction used to catch women off guard and get into their pants...or if he is somewhat of a genuine enigma like you are. A beautiful and complex mix of shades of grey. Not one-dimension, as Eddie had called you the day you met outside the school. 

But then add the layer of Stacy saying he was safe. That was one of the pieces that brought you from a level of caution to a level of curiosity. He was safe. And you needed safe. But were you ready to actually get involved with someone? You didn't know. It couldn't be a friends with benefits thing because the idea of cheap sex after what you experienced made you feel sick. But the alternative of giving yourself up not only physically but emotionally seemed even more vulnerable and even less likely. 

And why were you even worried about it? Eddie seemed to be a bit of a flirt, and he was in a band, so there was no real evidence that he would even want to get involved seriously with anyone anyway. He probably liked girls tatted up like him that he met at The Hideout.

Your brain, which is spinning with conflicting thoughts about Eddie, comes to a screeching halt when you enter the doorway of the classroom and his eyes meet yours, as if he was waiting for you to walk through the door. The fact his eyes are so dark seem to make them pierce straight through you. There are no doubts in terms of where he's looking and why he was looking for you, waiting for you, to walk through that door. 

Immediately, he gives a small smile. 

Okay, we're acknowledging each other's existence in public. Good to know, you think.  

You smile back, trying to hold eye contact as long as you can before you feel compelled to look down, and make your way to your seat. 

Before you can actually say anything, Ms. O'Donnell clears her throat, and assumes what you can only assume is her attempt at a power stance, to assert her dominance over a class of bored seniors. She holds her chin up high, which only accentuates the dark circles under her eyes, poorly covered with concealer, and not made any softer by the harsh florescent lights of the room. 

Damn, she needs a good night sleep even more than me, you think. 

"Alright, class. I have to say, these essays were a marked improvement on your first 'Twelfth Night' essays. Certainly a few students who pleasantly surprised me," she began, making her way down the row between you and Eddie, the click of her heels a methodic metronome. "Mr. Munson," she says in a lower tone, so as not to address the entire class, while placing his graded essay face down on his desk. 

You two exchange a quick glance before he peels a small corner of the paper back. Not enough to reveal the grade, he pulls back a little more, and a little more...until you see his eyes light up, and he turns the paper over quickly, and slams his ring-glad hand down on the desk, sending a loud bang throughout the classroom. 

You see it. B-. You can't help but smile at the sheer pride on his face. 

"Mr. Munson, can you please express your joy in a way that doesn't destroy Hawkins High property?" Mrs. O'Donnell says tiredly, not even bothering to break her stride of grade distribution and heel clicking. 

"Sorry, ma'am," he says, smiling at you before looking straight ahead. You notice, however, he's put his hand subtly down between the two of you, a gesture for a low key "low-five." 

You hesitate. This is a pretty public gesture although who is really looking, right? You bring your hand down to slap his, and, to your surprise, he grabs it and gives it a quick squeeze before letting go. The gesture shoots electric up your spine. The combination of his warm hand, strong and sure-- with the cool hardness of his rings. 

Little do you know that there is another set of eyes watching the exchange from the other side of the room, boring a hole into your skull. 

I apologize the chapters are so short. The time I have to write is really limited because I have a full-time job, a side business and a toddler, but I make do with the time I get!