Fight or Flight (Eddie Munson x Y/N)

20. "I Remember You"

You pull up to the Forest Hills Trailer Park, not 100% sure you read the map right, but you keep going, hearing the twigs buckle against the pressure of your tires as you slowly proceed.

You wonder if this is why he was so hesitant to have you over....he didn't want you knowing this is where he lived.

You park in front of a teal and white trailer, an older man in a fold out chair seated on the patch of grass in front of it.

"Is this...does Eddie Munson live here?" you ask hesitantly.

"Who's askin'?" the man replied, not unfriendly, but cautiously.

"I'm sorry, that was so rude, I'm Y/N. I'm here to see Eddie. We're friends from school and--"

"Ahh, the tutor," he replied, letting out a relaxed plume of smoke from his cigarette. He smiled that knowing smile adults always gave teenagers when they knew something the kids didn't. "Eddie mentioned you. You're every bit as pretty as he said you'd be."

"Oh...well..." you begin, looking away shyly and shoving your hands in your pockets before you hear the front screen door burst open.

"Jesus H. Christ, Uncle Wayne," Eddie whines, clearly having heard the last of the exchange. He tries to explain as he walks quickly toward you. "I didn't say....I mean I did, but. I didn't mean....I mean, come inside," he stumbles, grabbing your hand and pulling you in.

You laugh, "Nice to meet you, Uncle Wayne."

"Nice to meet you, too, dear. Uh, Eddie?"

"Ya, Uncle Wayne?" Eddie calls over his shoulder, still charging down the hallway.

"I gotta go start my shift at the plant, so dinner's in the fridge. I don't want all my beer gone neither!" he warns.

"Got it! Noted!" he replies exasperated, clearly frazzled. It's not until he closes the door to his bedroom that he exhales loudly.

"Sorry," he starts. "Uncle Wayne drinks and he must've thought I said you were--"

"Eddie, it's okay. You grab both of his hands in yours. "You're pretty, too," you say, face serious, trying not to burst out laughing.

He laughs, but you can tell he's now wondering what you really think of him...or what you think of the fact he finds you attractive. There's a pregnant pause before he lets your hands go.

"Well, m'lady, welcome to my humble abode," he says, gesturing around the small space with his hands as if he were showing off a mansion. "It's not much but it's home I guess....sorry for the mess," he adds, moving a dirty shirt out of your walking path.

"Eddie..." you start, wanting to clear the air. "Did...did you not want me to come over because you're in...because you..."

"Live in a trailer? Yeah, not exactly something I like to advertise but... I know you said I wouldn't really be welcome at your place...and I really wanted to hold up my end of our bargain."

"Eddie, don't say it that way," you say looking up at him. "They just...my parents are very religious. It has nothing to do with money or where you live. They don't even know I listen to metal. They just wouldn't...see you the way I do."

"And how is that?" he says quietly and seriously, brows knitted together.

"Kind. Smart. Safe...." You feel nerves bubbling up and look to lighten the moment. "Has a love affair with his guitar," you smile.

"Hey now," he nudges you in the arm before walking over to his guitar. "Careful with how you talk about my sweet girl," he purrs.

He picks her up, eyeing her with care, wonder, respect...and you can help but feel ...jealous?