#I can't stop writing soft eddie T_T

[andantexvii]

//Promises// Pt. ?? [Preview?]

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count ~ 900

Notes ~ So, you ever told yourself you're committed to writing a slow burn romance? The kind that builds, and builds, and comes close a hundred times but doesn't hit the mark until it's just right? ...anyway, I love that, but I also love writing ahead for inspiration when I have writer's block on a certain passage. ...and I literally cannot stop writing soft Eddie.

So, I'm sharing a bit from a future chapter, that's still subject to change - but given my sporadic posting schedule I'm still working on it.

Warnings ~ profanity; physical abuse (talk of past abuse, abusers, etc. but no actual act); use of she/her pronouns; hurt/comfort.

→

Before she could open her mouth again to continue, Eddie had leaned into the counter with his full weight; the aging wood creaked under the clenching of his palms. The sudden sound startled her, and though he tried to look apologetic, there was a stern, unusual ferocity in his eyes he couldn't hide.

"Did he… he didn't, uh, he didn't hit you, did he?"

All at once he fought the urge to reach for her, feel every curve for lumps, eye every corner for bruises; soothe the pain with his fingers, caress the soreness away, if only he could… Quickly, he busied his hands with rifling through his dark curls, mind racing, to stop himself from grabbing her in a panic. Bile rose at the back of his throat at the thought of the deep, purple wounds blossoming against her skin, struck by the hands of a coward, too weak for the stubborn pride they tried to wear like vestments of power. He knew the type too well.

As it stretched on, her silence was more painful than its implication.

"Hey, hey." In one swift move, Eddie skirted the counter and dropped to his knees in front of her. His face twisted in pained concern as he gently, reassuringly, placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Hon. I, I need you to tell me he didn't put his hands on you." 

Pursing her lips it became clear she hid her pain behind a well-honed mask, plastered, polished, and painted so many times over the years one could hardly see how many times it'd been cracked. Finally, she shook her head in silence.

Eddie hardly had a moment to draw a breath of relief, before every muscle in his body clenched again, anxiously.

"N-no, not this time. No."

There was a pained rumble deep in his chest that manifested in the form of a weakened, feeble grunt through clenched teeth. He licked his lips a few times, a nervous tic, leaving his tongue to rest against his lips deep in thought.

"Not this time, huh?" He nodded as if he'd come to some conclusion, some agreement with himself, though his mind burned blank with a white hot disgust. Not this time. Not this time and never again.

She dropped her head a bit further, unable to hold his eye as she heard his breath catch in his throat. Eddie's usual soft, honeyd gaze had hardened to a piercing intensity she couldn't bear to see. There was something primal brewing in him and she could feel it; a defense mechanism she'd had and held since she was so very young. She'd felt his mood shift silently. Only now, unlike most, when her heart rang its silent alarm there was no fear in her, no worry at what was next to come - there was an anger in him, yes, it was unmistakable. Even so, she didn't crumble in anguish under his touch, he was security… he was safety.

"E-Eddie…" She whispered, her voice hardly disturbing the air between them.

His dark eyes turned to her in an instant, his own hyper-vigilance on alert. It was a shame, he thought briefly, that he felt that same caution coursing through her body as he knew she felt in him. It was something one would only recognize in another if they, too, bore the invisible mark; the mark of someone who'd needed to learn to defend themselves long before they were ready.

"Yeah?" He murmured back, leaning down gently.

Silent for a few long moments, she laid her hands open in her lap. Her fingers trembled slightly, inching forward a bit, but seeming to lack the strength to truly reach.

"Can I… is it okay if I j-just…" She strained her voice as thin as the morning mist, gesturing openly toward him.

He looked to her open palms drawing a long, slow breath. He'd wanted so much to be her calm, her shelter in this morning's storm, he had hardly paused to fathom how much she truly wanted, needed it, too. No matter how skilled a sailor she'd become, navigating the torrential currents of her life, every ship eventually needed to come to port; to come home. 

"What you, uh, you want… me?"

She pulled her hands away quickly, fearing she'd disgusted him with the mere suggestion, sniffling softly. That was all it took for his dam to break, sweeping away all pretense of shame.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, come, come here. I've got you." He leaned in just a bit and wrapped his arms around her softly, and so very all at once. Letting out a faint sob against his shoulder she eagerly returned his embrace, clinging to him as if his presence were the only thing tethering her to the better side of an emotional breakdown.

"Hey, let it out if you need to, s’alright. I'm here; just you and me." Eddie spoke softly against her hair, giving her a firm, protective squeeze, as his heart rose into his throat. Even as she cried softly against the bare skin of his shoulder, he smiled into the crook of her neck; wondering how everything having gone so wrong could have led to this, that felt so right. His reassurance wasn't just to make her feel better for a moment, he meant every word. No matter what he had to do to make it true.