A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Wondering Why by The Red Clay Strays. I hope you all enjoy it.
"She's really something, ain't she?" Eddie hummed, watching you with a soft smile as you grinned at the barmaid on the other side of the Hideout. Hell, you looked completely out of place, in a pretty dress and designer shoes in a bar with floors so sticky you couldn't risk standing still for more than a couple of seconds, and beaten-up chairs, and patrons that looked like they hadn't left in a good few months.
"Yeah, she's great," Jeff murmured. "What the fuck's she doing dating you?" he teased, watching Eddie snort with laughter at the comment.
"Hell if I know," he started, eyes still watching you carefully, making sure you were okay at any given moment. "I've been asking myself the same thing for the last year, but she's still here," he pressed, lifting his hand to wave in your direction when you pointed him out to the barmaid, clearly talking about him, your smile so bright that it made his stomach flip. "Yeah, God knows what she sees in me, but she definitely sees it."
Jeff chuckled, shaking my head. "Don't get me wrong, Ed, you're a great guy, but Christ."
"She's out of league, right? Shit, I'm pretty sure we aren't even playing the same sport," Eddie confessed. "But right now, she looks at me and sees something she likes, so whilst she does, I'm going to make the most of her loving me. Because, fuck man, I love that girl more than life itself."
"You're whipped-"
"Of course I am. Any sane man would be; look at her; she's a fucking Angel."
You'd come wandering back over a couple of minutes later, two drinks and Eddie's change awkwardly clutched in your hands, grinning as you set them all down on the table. "Didn't spill a drop," you announced, turning your smile on Eddie. "Told you I could do it," you pressed, drawing a chuckle out of him.
"I don't know why I ever doubted you, Sweetheart," he teased softly, his hand lifting to brush over the small of your back, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room. "You know, other than the fact that you trip over your own feet at least once a day," he hummed, letting out a soft snort of laughter when your mouth dropped open.
"It is not once a day," you exclaimed, the faux-offence playing on your features. "I've not fallen over since last week," you added.
"Yeah, that bruise on your hip just came up out of nowhere-"
"That wasn't from falling over," you corrected. "That one was when I walked into the door handle the other day," you pressed.
Eddie held up his hands in surrender. "You're right, Baby. I'm just being mean," he hummed, grinning when you tucked yourself closer into his side, right under his arm, the spot you'd claimed for yourself within 3 dates with Eddie, your hand splayed out across his stomach.
You listened to the chatter of the boys at the other end of the table, chuckling at the silly stories and funny little quips. It was sweet, really, getting to see Eddie with his other people; seeing exactly where his personality had come from. They used the same language, had the same humour, Hell, they even had the same damn inflexion in the way they told them.
You hadn't even realised that you'd been humming along to the song in the background, swaying ever so slightly, until Eddie had glanced down at you, his eyes soft.
"You like this one, huh?" he started, watching as your brow furrowed. "The song," he pressed softly.
"It's pretty," you finally answered.
He nodded, his hand shifting from your back to your hand, linking his fingers through yours. "Come and dance with me," he hummed, gently easing you away from the table of boys.
"Ed," you started softly. "We're with your friends-"
"Yeah? And right now, I want nothing more than to dance with my girl," he murmured, pulling you a little closer, his free hand resting on your hip, the hand holding yours guiding you up to his shoulder. "Because my girl likes this song."
A soft chuckle slipped out of you as he began to sway you to the song. "You're so mushy, you know that?" you breathed softly, letting him pull you a little closer. "Such a romantic."
He hummed softly, somewhere deep in the pits of his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "My girl is worth being romantic for," he finally confessed. "Deserves all the world and more, so I'm going to give her everything I can, even if she thinks I'm just being mushy," he told you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently.
"The boys are never going to stop teasing you for this," you murmured, your lips still brushing his.
"Nah, they get it," he told you, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. "If they ever got given a shot with a girl like you, they'd all be doing the same."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he confirmed softly. "You're the sort of girl worth being a fool for."
This time, it was you who bridged the gap, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close to you.
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