Work Text:
Eddie slips a strawberry candy into his mouth, cupping it in the pocket of his cheek and suckling around it, letting the sweetness stick to his raw cheeks and coat his tongue like stripped cherrywood dipped in sweet lacquer.
Robin usually watches him from where she perches on the couch, her hawk like gaze curious as she notes the lazily bobbing of his throat and the way his temples shift his bangs as he grinds his jaw anxiously.
Robin adores watching humans simply exist, and Eddie is her favourite of all.
He’s open and honest and crass and raw and Robin finds herself completely enamoured by his nature.
He’s flesh and bone and bitter and Robin finds herself studying the contrast between the plushness of his figure and the sharpness of his tongue.
He’s an anomaly of a man among the many of Hawkins, and Robin thinks he’s beautiful.
Their dynamic is unique. Soft, oil hues blended together on satin paper, complimentary and identical in texture, dissimilar in colour and finish yet entirely compatible.
Robin is skittish and tender and colourful and loud, and Eddie is just a mirror to her.
Eddie bares many elements she dislikes about herself- simply on another sheet of paper, one where she can stand back and leave caution behind because it’s no longer attached to her, where she can mind the crinkles and folds and tears, where she can observe those traits simply for their nature and come to adore them for what they are.
Unfiltered judgement and blissful joy, open curiosity and sloppy rawness, Eddie teaches Robin to adore her own nature seemingly without realising.