Brightside | ✓

31 | i hate boston

Eddie had never been to Boston. She'd always wanted to go. Never found the time.

            She knew that Axel was nervous for the trip—leg bounced the entire flight. The closer they got the more he looked out the window. He'd never held Eddie's hand before but he crushed it as the flight went on; her fingers were purple by the descent—but she didn't quite know how she felt. Eddie had heard a lot about his mom, but not a lot about his dad. That didn't feel like an accident.

            Getting through BOS was easy, which was nice. Eddie had only packed a carry-on and Axel's luggage was one of the first on the conveyor belt. He held her hand a lot tighter when he saw it. Muttered something about who he must've pissed off to deserve getting out of the airport quickly. That was about the only time he spoke the entire trip to the hotel. Didn't even look that excited when they passed Fenway Park. She waved a hand in front of his face to make sure he was still on Earth and all he did was rub her hand a couple times with his thumb.

            Eddie took a seat on the bed and waited until he was done frantically unpacking both of their clothes—minus the ones Eddie had taken to get the airplane clothes off her—to ask the question she knew the answer to. "Doing okay over there?"

            Axel jumped when she spoke. Like he'd forgotten she was there. Because the bras and 57 pairs of underwear he'd unpacked without asking definitely belonged to him. He was in the hotel room by himself, of course. He turned around. "Hi. Sorry. Pardon?"

            "Are you—" Eddie pointed to her... person? Person was yuck but boyfriend at that stage of the game was diabolical and she wouldn't be using it. "—okay?"

            Axel let out a laugh that bordered on Eddie having to call the nearest mental health hospital. "No."

            "Can I help?"

            "I don't think so."

            "You done unpacking?"

            Axel looked around at the suitcases at his feet. Empty. "Do you have anything else?"

            "You packed more than I did."

            "What if I forcibly shit myself to get away from him? I need a change of clothes."

            Eddie held her hands up in defense. "That's your business."

            "Ha." Axel pulled his shirt off and dug through the clothes he'd just finished folding. Threw the airplane shirt on the floor and tossed on a shirt that Eddie was pretty sure was her pyjama shirt but she wasn't going to mention it. She'd steal one of his to sleep in.

            "Do you have a time you're supposed to be meeting... him?" Eddie couldn't use his name even if she wanted to. Axel had never told it to her. That also felt on purpose.

            "Dinner," Axel said. "I—uh—needed a buffer after landing."

            "I'm not judging you."

            "I'm—sorry." Axel shook his head. Put a hand on his hip and tore the other one through his messy hair.  "Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm already just—you didn't need to see this."

            "This?"

            "Home version of me." Few people had ever looked that disgusted to say the word home. Especially someone who proudly wore Red Sox and Patriots boxers and t-shirts when he wasn't wearing something to make other people, and himself, laugh. (It was worse for her to note that he was actively wearing Red Sox boxers while he chaotically changed his pants and almost faceplanted into the dresser doing so.) (Eddie tried not to get too distracted by the tattoo on his thigh—like she always did—and focus on the problem at hand.)