Through A Glass Darkly | Eddie Munson x Reader

Chapter 26

His eyes opened to a tasteful, if dull, room. The full-length beige curtains were half-opened. Gray light dithered through the white sheers. Rain tapped on the window beyond.

The pile of pillows he reclined on smelled of detergent and his dirty hair. He suspected all the linens would have to be washed once he gathered enough strength to shower. Same with the borrowed briefs and undershirt.

Who would've thought he'd be wearing King Steve's precious underwear?

He knew that was an ungenerous thought. King Steve was just Steve now. Steve had pulled him out of the Upside Down. Steve was a big damn hero.

That applied to you as well. You'd saved him twice yesterday. Most people would've given up after all the shit he'd put you through. They would've run away, and not curl on the bed next to him. With their pretty face smushed into a pillow. And they certainly wouldn't have worn cozy pajamas and a hoodie and socks with little flowers on them.

He remembered the taste of your skin and sweat, your heady blood just below the surface. Your gasps and twists had reminded him of other, sweeter times when he had your taste on his tongue. It would've been so easy to feast and keep a little part of you with him forever.

Paper fluttered in the corner. He jerked his head up, regretting it right away. Muscles along his upper back strained. The top of his head tightened. He blinked a few times until the corner came into focus.

Speak - or this case, think - of the Devil... Steve sat in an armchair, a nearby lamp's golden light accenting his perfect face. He'd propped a magazine across his crossed leg. His right arm was braced in a sling. A purple bruise haloed one of his eyes. Despite that, he had an air of strength.

Steve glanced at him, looked down, then looked up with wide eyes. He tossed the magazine on the side-table and stood.

In a hushed tone, Steve said, "Hey, man."

"He-ey." He cleared his throat as quietly as possible. "When you get here?"

Steve went to the nightstand, saying, "To the house? Last night." He offered a refillable Santa Claus Land drink container. "In here? I don't know. Maybe an hour."

He pulled his arms from under the bedspread to take the container from Steve. The candy-cane striped crazy-straw swayed while the water inside sloshed. Steve put a hand under the container to steady it.

"Shit, thanks, man."

"No prob."

He swallowed a few mouthfuls of cool water before nodding that was enough. It wasn't, but he didn't think he could hold the container for much longer.

"How are you?" he asked before nodding at Steve's sling. "What happened?"

"Demogorgon."

"Jesus Christ." He watched Steve arrange the nightstand to make it easier for him to pick up the container later. "You gonna be okay?"

"It's just a sprain and some stitches."

He didn't point out Steve's bat bites from their tour of the Upside Down. They probably matched his own.

"I guess we'll have to give up on our dream of being bathing-suit models, huh?"

Steve chuckled and straightened to his full height.

"I'm sure tens of people will mourn the loss."

Smirking, he said, "Don't be so sure, big boy. You have quite the fan club."

Steve rolled his eyes with a self-deprecating smile. It projected that good-boy 'oh, golly gee' quality that was the antithesis of the person he saw bite the head off a demobat and spit the blood. However, he wasn't interested in giving Steve a pep talk right now. Steve wouldn't want to hear it from him, anyway.