[ funny, how much your brain can start to compartmentalize out of simple necessity. survival is messy that way. sitting back there at the boathouse, back when all this mess first started, back when chrissy cunningham had met her end on the ceiling of his trailer and he was rambling like what he felt was a madman, only to be given (an albeit) condensed version of the events a bunch of kids and their unwitting babysitters had gone through — well, yeah. there was too much unsaid, too much to infill within the spaces and maybe acting like it was the most normal thing in the world was the only way to cope. considering the fact that everyone in this room had nearly died a thousand times is what steve had said and granted, the prodding oar took away from listening to that statement too closely at that time, eddie could now tell harrington was exaggerating less than one would have thought. and that? that alone was a horrifying statement.
and if steve and dustin and everyone else can just keep going, then eddie would have to as well. considering he was given that chance in the first place.
but, it was becoming easier, really, to count the times he's made steve roll his eyes at him already, in the span of this rescue and even now, even with the current state of things and harrington's focus, it was starting to be fun. despite, you know, walking half-dead up the stairs and stinking of blood and he laughs. ] Can't catch a break, huh?
[ the guest room looks and feels more like something out of one of those decorating magazines than it does belonging in someone's actual house. eddie, taking the chance to catch his breath when steve isn't looking, lest he come on worrying and hovering again, considers the space and tries not to feel insanely out of place. even harrington moved more like a stranger the more eddie turned his attention to it - focused instead on something pragmatic — like being a host — rather than like...well, eddie's not sure. rather than like he lived here, maybe. ] Yeah — ah, cold water right? [ he says so absently, only half listening to what steve is telling him as he focuses on trying to de-layer himself, becoming a little too aware at how clean the room around him is and how starkly stained his clothes are. like how the light is too bright, and just how much blood is on him, between his rings.
the bandana drops off first, and the vest shrugs off the simplest, a heap at his feet, until he actually gets back to trying to peel off the leather jacket and one arm is halfway out while the other catches in the sleeve again and the mobility is limited enough as it is and nearly knocks the breath out of him, fabric snagging against one of the many bites thats coagulated over his ribcage and he tries to play it off cool, except that steve is also saying something about towels and clothes and he should be following along and eddie just tries to angle himself out of his current predicament as best as he can. which, likely, leaves plenty to be desired, but yet again — stubbornness rears its head. ] Uh-huh, yeah — [ he adds, hopes it was in good timing to steve's rundown of instruction. ]
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and if steve and dustin and everyone else can just keep going, then eddie would have to as well. considering he was given that chance in the first place.
but, it was becoming easier, really, to count the times he's made steve roll his eyes at him already, in the span of this rescue and even now, even with the current state of things and harrington's focus, it was starting to be fun. despite, you know, walking half-dead up the stairs and stinking of blood and he laughs. ] Can't catch a break, huh?
[ the guest room looks and feels more like something out of one of those decorating magazines than it does belonging in someone's actual house. eddie, taking the chance to catch his breath when steve isn't looking, lest he come on worrying and hovering again, considers the space and tries not to feel insanely out of place. even harrington moved more like a stranger the more eddie turned his attention to it - focused instead on something pragmatic — like being a host — rather than like...well, eddie's not sure. rather than like he lived here, maybe. ] Yeah — ah, cold water right? [ he says so absently, only half listening to what steve is telling him as he focuses on trying to de-layer himself, becoming a little too aware at how clean the room around him is and how starkly stained his clothes are. like how the light is too bright, and just how much blood is on him, between his rings.
the bandana drops off first, and the vest shrugs off the simplest, a heap at his feet, until he actually gets back to trying to peel off the leather jacket and one arm is halfway out while the other catches in the sleeve again and the mobility is limited enough as it is and nearly knocks the breath out of him, fabric snagging against one of the many bites thats coagulated over his ribcage and he tries to play it off cool, except that steve is also saying something about towels and clothes and he should be following along and eddie just tries to angle himself out of his current predicament as best as he can. which, likely, leaves plenty to be desired, but yet again — stubbornness rears its head. ] Uh-huh, yeah — [ he adds, hopes it was in good timing to steve's rundown of instruction. ]