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velvetcloxds · 17 days

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ENSUE | E. M

word count: 2k

warning: can confidently say that this is officially the last part of this series, it's been an emotional rollercoaster for sure, reader gets injured, shitty men in the workplace

summary: you manage to injure yourself after a confrontation with your father and the new manager and eddie finds you hiding in his bedroom instead of your usual spot, seems you've got a lot to talk about now that the dust has settled

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You were tired of knowing better, it was only getting you into trouble, every chance it got. You knew better with Eddie, but you still got hurt. You knew better than the new manager your father had hired to spite you, you still got shouted at in front of all the staff. You knew better than your father, knew he couldn’t do any of this on his own, and still ended up on the other end of one of his humbling temper tantrums. Somewhere between Mr. Harrington telling you to know your place and your father calling you an inferior girl who has reached the end of her usefulness, you moved a little too close to your father’s cigarette and burned your arm. You weren’t even sure where you were going when you started rushing away, weren’t sure if you were crying out of anger or out of pain, you’d never been all that good with either, maybe it was both.

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was so worried when he heard about what happened, but he was almost sprinting by the time he got to his room, he’d searched everywhere and this was a last resort, you knew where it was and it was always open so maybe, just maybe you’d gone there in your rush to get away from the office, hide the fact that you were crying- still, he couldn’t help the surprise on his face when he opened the door and actually found you. You were standing sort of aimlessly by his mirror, wiping at your eyes, of course, that would be your focus.

It was odd seeing you, seeing you in his space was something wholly different, it had been weeks since you found him talking to Billy, weeks since he’d been able to look at you without you looking away or excusing yourself. He hadn’t spoken more than a quick greeting or an entirely professional question since then and he was both hugely freaked out and somewhat grateful that he’d get the opportunity to do so now, all things considered.

“Y/n?” you tensed at his voice, considered it carefully before turning towards him, you wondered why he looked so worried, you’d been shouted at many times before since the two of you started working together. The only difference was that men tended to stop when he was with you, like he was some sort of buffer, they didn’t respect you any more than they did when he wasn’t there, they just respected him too much to show it in front of him. “Robin called me, said she saw you running from the office clutching your arm,” you nodded, didn’t react to him walking towards you, he meant to be slow, really he knew he should’ve been but you met his gaze, he noted then that he’d never seen you cry before- you’d been upset, hurt, insulted, and you’d been close but you’d always catch yourself.

“They turned our spot into a storage room,” you explained, hand stupidly moving to cover the burn mark on your arm, hoping he wouldn’t mention it, wouldn’t take note of it- he did, he had to stop himself from making a scene about it. “And there were people everywhere, I just needed to clear my head, I didn’t know where else to go-“

“It’s fine,” there was a silent conversation paired with his interruption, a subtle nod to your hand to have it move, an outstretched hand begging you to let him see, and the gentlest fingers that grazed around the skin to scope how bad it was. “Cigarette burn?” he had to keep his mind at bay, he knew the smokers of the office and had borrowed a cigarette from most of them, you only ever got into direct contact with one, you knew that too.

“It was an accident, I was trying to explain myself, I lost my temper,” he couldn’t picture that, you losing your temper, even when he gave you good reason to do so, you didn’t, it made his stomach turn, his blood boil, if he was in the room with you, your dad probably wouldn’t have gotten close enough to shout at you let alone hurt you. “I’m sorry, I’m the one who told you to leave me alone and now I just show up when I need someone,” you scoffed, tried to take your arm back but he wouldn’t allow that, would reprimand you soon enough for apologizing for something so silly. It was the oddest thing when you looked at him, you’d convinced yourself you despised him, didn’t know him, but the way his eyes drifted over your face and his skin melted against yours and his curls fell forward when he tilted his head to examine your arm, you were sure he cared, it felt like he did, really.

“We should get this cleaned up,” he sighed and you didn’t object, didn’t fight him when he guided you to the bathroom by hand, didn’t make any attempt to take your hand back as he rummaged the cupboard for supplies- it was comfort in its simplest form, you thought, how familiar it felt to be seen by him, cared for like you’d deprived yourself of something you didn’t know you’d gotten used to even if it wasn’t genuine.

He had you sit on the closed toilet seat, and kneeled in front of you as he set everything aside and your mind was racing, there was a part of you that considered maybe you’d overreacted, accidents happen, people get upset if it weren’t you, it would’ve been someone else, it had just been you for about a month now and if anything you were tired of being the punching bag while trying to help. You watched Eddie work and were reminded with much annoyance how pretty he was, how despite what you heard him talking about and what he’d done, he was one of the few people who you felt comfortable being weak around, soft, you didn’t have to think- it was a feeling, not logic, logic had proved otherwise- but the fact stood, you were tired of thinking.

“Thank you, Eddie,” he hummed, satisfied with the job he’d done, it probably wasn’t wise, closing a burn wound, but you’d be going home soon, and he didn’t think you’d want anyone to question it, it wasn’t as bad as the discoloration looked but knowing you, you’d be embarrassed by it still.

“You got to open that as soon as you get home, okay, don’t leave it closed,” you’d never heard his voice quite that timid and gentle, which speaks volumes considering he always spoke to you softly, kindly. “I think I have one of your concealer sticks in one of my jackets if you want to fix your makeup but-“ he interrupted himself, paused when he realized he’d brought a hand to your cheek, brushed a thumb over a stray trail of a tear, he half expected you to jump back, not lean into the touch, certainly not close your eyes to savor it. “But I don’t think you need to,” he continued, and he wasn’t sure if his heart was still beating in rhythm, not really, it was pounding in his ears and it didn’t sound right, only got louder as you slid your fingers around his wrist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” it was a loaded sentence, you’d learned that much about being around him so long, it meant he was sorry for having to see you like this, it meant he was sorry for everything he’d done and not done with Billy, for being one of the men who’d let you down.

“I should hate you,” you noted, opened your eyes, only to find his staring back at you, they held an openness to them you hadn’t seen in a while, you realized you should’ve noticed the lack thereof sooner, maybe you did, maybe you ignored it. “But you’re such a bastard, Eddie Munson, even when you’ve given me every reason to be utterly appalled by you, you’re still the first person I wanted to see when I felt like this.”

“You should hate me,” he agreed, and you were happy he didn’t try and take his hand back, letting your joined fingers fall to your lap, brushing a thumb over your knuckles, rings cold against your warm skin, a perfect piece of symbolism. “I wanted to be the first person to find you like this, make sure you’re okay.”

“What a mess we are- there was chaos when we didn’t stay away from each other and chaos when we did, it’s like were doomed.”

“Chaos tends to follow me around, should’ve warned you about that,” he had that look again, that paled face of regret that he’d been wearing for days now, it took everything in you not to hug it away then and it took everything in you not to hug it away now. “I should’ve tried harder to tell you that this wasn’t all a lie, it wasn’t all pretend, it’s much easier to care for you than it is not to.”

“Some of it felt real.”

“Because it was, sweetheart, honest, I screwed up either way, and we both know even if I didn’t, there was no sort of happy ending here, but it wasn’t all for them, I genuinely was soft for you,” the admission was paired with a tint of rose to his cheeks and though he tried to tilt his head and hide it with his curls, it made your heart soar, you hadn’t gone mad, your heart wasn’t betraying you, it wasn’t all a ploy.

“I get it, you know, what you guys did to my dad- I don’t think my mom deserves it, and let’s face it, I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t forced to be here too- but maybe I’d have been far less upset with you if things were different.”

“Always wishing for things to be different,” he scoffed, you knew he couldn’t comment on what you’d said, mostly because as much loathing as you had for your father, you didn’t wish ruin upon your family, you were angry and maybe if he wasn’t in the picture you’d be less angry, if he wasn’t in the picture Eddie would just be a questionable guy who made it hard to hate him despite knowing that your should.

“I think I’m going to write some heartbreaking stories about you, Eddie,” you noted, and he moved quickly to make room when you slid down to kneel in front of him. “Think it’s going to take me forever to stop thinking about you.”

“Don’t I know it,” it was scary how quickly you caved, how easy it was to let him pull you into his chest, hold you against him like it wasn’t going against everything you promised yourself and your mother. It was intoxicating how safe it felt between his arms, how much his leather jacket smelt like home and comfort and good things he didn’t represent. You hated every second of it, wrapped your arms around his waist, breathed him in, allowed him to place a fleeting kiss on the top of your head and you wished the moment would endure forever. “Will you make me good in your stories?” he whispered when he walked you to his door, he was planning on sneaking out first, drawing attention away from the room long enough to slip out, eager hand latched onto your wrist.

“Course I will, you’re good, Eddie, you’re just a little lost right now.”

#right where queue left me #eddie munson x reader #icymi <3

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