[ heartbeat so loud in his ears, feeling like it’s in his throat, eddie tries to blink away the nightmare as he looks at up at steve. tries to ignore the imagery still plastered in his brain as the loose sleep shirt slips out of his grasp, as steve’s hand moves away from eddie’s shoulder and his skin feels cold again.
he lifts himself up to sit with a groan, one knee bending to prop an elbow on, hands rubbing at his face, near reluctant in looking away. instead he hears the tap run, and looks over to the glass being set on the bedside table.
his throat is dry, suddenly and sharply so, as his eyes are back on harrington — and as his mind reminds him of the last seconds before he was torn out of fitful sleep. the floating, the goddamn floating, the screeching of those demobats, the impossible angles in which harrington was starting to bend and the tail wrapped around his own throat —
it could have been anyone else that he saw. sometimes it was. not dustin though, not yet. perhaps some part of his psyche spared him of that, if only just. ] Yeah, [ he wheezes out, and it sounds only mildly manic, and tries to return steve’s shaky smile with one of his own, though it probably looks more like a grimace. ] Yeah, I’m good.
[ his stomach rolls, briefly, and he reaches for the glass of water and downs the thing, just in time to catch steve dropping down to sit on the floor, on the thick carpet, right by his bed.
that seems to surprise him, enough to pull him out of the final dregs of fear and eddie, without much thinking, throws his legs over the edge of the bed and slides slowly down until he’s sitting there, on the floor and planted firmly on the plush carpet too. something about that seemed right — more right than anything else has lately been — and it was definitely not so that eddie was simply closer. it definitely had nothing to do with how steve made the noise quieter, how steve sharpened eddie’s focus onto him and away from the rest.
his head tips back, until it leans against the edge of the bed. the ceiling is considered, briefly, before he slides his attention back to steve. ] Yeah, [ he repeats, frowns at that. ] Yours too? [ he’d worry that he had woken him up — worry that he’d pulled steve from rare rest, but something about him already implied that wasn’t true. ]
no subject
he lifts himself up to sit with a groan, one knee bending to prop an elbow on, hands rubbing at his face, near reluctant in looking away. instead he hears the tap run, and looks over to the glass being set on the bedside table.
his throat is dry, suddenly and sharply so, as his eyes are back on harrington — and as his mind reminds him of the last seconds before he was torn out of fitful sleep. the floating, the goddamn floating, the screeching of those demobats, the impossible angles in which harrington was starting to bend and the tail wrapped around his own throat —
it could have been anyone else that he saw. sometimes it was. not dustin though, not yet. perhaps some part of his psyche spared him of that, if only just. ] Yeah, [ he wheezes out, and it sounds only mildly manic, and tries to return steve’s shaky smile with one of his own, though it probably looks more like a grimace. ] Yeah, I’m good.
[ his stomach rolls, briefly, and he reaches for the glass of water and downs the thing, just in time to catch steve dropping down to sit on the floor, on the thick carpet, right by his bed.
that seems to surprise him, enough to pull him out of the final dregs of fear and eddie, without much thinking, throws his legs over the edge of the bed and slides slowly down until he’s sitting there, on the floor and planted firmly on the plush carpet too. something about that seemed right — more right than anything else has lately been — and it was definitely not so that eddie was simply closer. it definitely had nothing to do with how steve made the noise quieter, how steve sharpened eddie’s focus onto him and away from the rest.
his head tips back, until it leans against the edge of the bed. the ceiling is considered, briefly, before he slides his attention back to steve. ] Yeah, [ he repeats, frowns at that. ] Yours too? [ he’d worry that he had woken him up — worry that he’d pulled steve from rare rest, but something about him already implied that wasn’t true. ]