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It's late at night when he finally arrives home after a long and tiring shift. As every night, he can see the flickering of her television through her open window. She's probably watching some documentaries again to help her fall asleep, like most nights.
A gentle smile creeps unnoticed onto his lips at the thought of this grown woman who still needs some light and voices around her at night to fall asleep, like a frightened little child during a thunderstorm. She's mostly like a scared little kid, to be honest.
He pulls out his keychain and tries to open the door, but since the light's broken since... he doesn't even know if it ever worked, it's really hard to find the keyhole, although he should be able to find it blindfolded.
The stairs creak under his feet as he carefully walks up to his apartment because he doesn't want to wake anyone in this poorly soundproofed house. As he enters his apartment, he hears the sounds of the documentary next door. Something about sharks, he realizes after a short while. Interested in what the voice is saying, he tries to keep quiet while changing from his work clothes to sweatpants and a faded Metallica shirt.
With a sigh and a bowl of cereal in his hands, he flops down on his battered couch to follow the explanation of a shark's hunting behavior. Before the spoon can touch his lips, however, the phone unexpectedly rings.
An annoyed "What the hell?" slips from his lips as he gets up again, wondering who is calling him in the middle of the night, and rushes to the phone, afraid the ringing will wake his neighbors.
"Yeah?" He answers the phone and brushes his hair back.
"Eddiiiie!" Her squeaky voice is so loud and shrill that he has to hold the receiver away from his ear to prevent tinnitus.
"Eddie, you home?" she asks, not giving him time to realize who's on the other end. Eddie furrows his brows and, a bit confused, replies, "I um... yeah, I really hope so. At least physically. I mean you dialed my home number and I answered, so I -" but before he can explain further why he's, in fact, home, she cuts him off.
"Eddie, I can't open my fridge." A small single hiccup interrupts her. "I need your help please." Only now can he hear the slight slur in her voice, but he's too confused about what she just said.
"You... what? Why can't you open your fridge?"
"I don't know. I'm just... maybe, you know, it's broken or blocked by something. I need ketchup and eggs and I'm so hungry. And I want cheese,” she cries out like a little kid desperate for candy at the grocery store, but her parents said no.
"Please, Eddie, I'm begging you. Can you come over and fix it? I'm starving!"
He rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs.
"Yeah, ok. Give me a second."
"Thank you sooo much!" She stretches the 'so' to an unbearable level before telling him, "Door's open." And with that she hangs up the phone.
After this long day he had hoped for a relaxing night. Just him, his cereal, and some bullshit to make fun of on TV. But now he is interrupted by her. Not that he wouldn't like this disturbance of his well-deserved rest, not as long as it's her. He knows her from high school, they graduated the same year. All those years of high school, he was the one that everyone bullied or just ignored. Except for her. She was always nice to him, although they hardly exchanged a word. After finding out who had moved in next door, he was kind of relieved to see her again and get to know her a little better through little chats in the hallway and later some movie nights and Sunday hangover brunch.
Eddie puts his bowl back on the counter and grabs his small tool kit before leaving his apartment.
There is a sign on the door across the hall that says "Enter at your own risk". But he had entered several times now, and mostly he was fine afterwards. Sometimes her fiancé would come home drunk at night and kick him out screaming because he thought she had cheated on him. But she was the most loyal soul Eddie has ever met. Even after the first time she had to cover up a nasty black eye, she was so soft and sweet, told anyone who asked her that she had fallen or crashed with her door or a closet. She never admitted that he hit her. On the other hand, the walls between Eddies and Y/N's apartment are so thin that he can hear every step, every word, and every cry. So he knows everything that goes on behind closed doors.
He puts his hand on the doorknob and carefully pushes the door open.
"Y/n?" he asks, peering through the crack. The narrator's voice can still be heard from the living room, reporting on the life of the sharks, and the flickering of the television illuminates the small hallway in which he now stands.
"Here." He follows her voice into the small kitchen to his left. Their apartments are built the same way, just mirrored. But hers looks so different. Welcoming, warm, cozy, like a real home with personality, something that is a safe place. In contrast to his apartment, which is barely more than a simple place to sleep with a somewhat crappy kitchen.
He finds her on the kitchen floor in front of her fridge, wrapped in a home-knit blanket, one hand on the fridge door, the other holding a glass of wine. There's a pot next to him on the stove, the water boiling over and sizzling as small drops smash onto the hot stovetop.
"Jesus Christ!" he hisses. He quickly picks up the pot and sets it aside, turning the heat down before turning to her.
"I'm so hungry, but I can't open the fridge" she cries as she looks up at him. To prove her efforts, she pulls on the door, but nothing happens.
Eddie takes a step forward, kneels down next to her and inspects the fridge. Y/N moves aside so he can see better and nearly spills her wine. A soft "shit" escapes her as she catches the glass in time.
Eddie doesn't have to be a mechanic to spot the problem. He sits cross-legged and looks at her with a worried expression.
"Y/N," he begins, taking a deep breath.
"Yeah?" She takes her eyes off her glass and now looks at Eddie with those incredibly soft and warm eyes.
He carefully takes her glass away and clears his throat. "Y/N how many drinks did you have tonight?"
She tilts her head and frowns. "I don't know, two or three. Why?" Another little hiccup makes her jump up a bit. The boy in front of her puts his hand on the fridge door, now on the other side where she tried to yank it before, and opens it. Her eyes light up, only to be covered by her hands in embarrassment a split second later.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry Eddie."
"It's okay, it can happen to any of us," he laughs, patting her shoulder to emphasize that she doesn't have to be ashamed. Everyone is a bit dumber when drunk. When someone knows how dumb people are when drunk, it's him and fully out of first hand.
"But you shouldn't try to cook when you're drunk.", he adds kind of worried.
Outraged, she defends herself and steals the glass from his hand. "I am not drunk!" A little pause. "Well, maybe a little tipsy," she adds quietly, barely above a whisper.
"What do you want to cook so late?" He grabs the desired ketchup and some eggs from the now open fridge and puts them next to the stove.
"And where is your fiancé by the way? Shouldn't he already be at your house? I mean, I don't want to seem like a creep, but every time I come home from work his car is always blocking my parking spot. But I didn't see it today. And honestly, I don't want to be kicked out again like I'm a burglar or something."
And that seems to be the point that kind of hurt her. As soon as his question was out loud, she froze, the grateful crooked smile fading.
"Yeah, no. I don't know." She drains the wine with a long gulp. "I do not know where he is." The glass hits the tile on the floor next to her with a loud bang, and Eddie is surprised it didn't shatter. There's a hint of pain and anger in her voice, but he's too shy to ask what's going on.
She wipes her face with her hand as if to wipe away the thought of her fiancé and stands up.
"Can you pass me that bowl from over there?" With a short nod in the direction of the bowl, she indicates where the desired bowl is.
She thanks him and cracks open some eggs on the edge of the bowl with one hand. “You don't have to stay any longer, the fridge is open now. Thanks again." It's a mixture of shame and fear that fills her and keeps her from looking at him, but all she can hear is a disdainful "Pffft". Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head.
“I certainly won't let you cook unattended while drunk. You almost” he catches a glimpse of the pot he ripped off the stove and looks at her in disbelief. “You almost burned pasta? Do you really think I'll let you keep cooking and risk burning the whole building down?" Actually, it's only meant as a rhetorical question, but to his amazement, she nods.
"I won't burn anything, trust me." She replies slightly snippy while trying to grate the cheese into the eggs with shaky hands and a foggy vision.
"Come on, give it to me, I'll do it. It hurts just to look at it." Firmly determined, he snatches the cheese and the grater from her and now grates the cheese into the mixing bowl himself until she says stop. He hadn't expected that she would let him help her and accept his offer without any arguments. Finally, she adds a dash of milk and whisks everything together.
"I'll get something to drink, can you drain the pasta and heat a pan?" Without waiting for his answer, she disappears slightly tottering from the kitchen with her glass, leaving Eddie behind.
"A pan..." he murmurs to himself as he rummages through the cupboards until he opens the last door and a heap of pots and pans nearly falls out in front of him. He reacts quickly, trying to stop the shaky stack with one hand while pulling out a pan with the other. After making sure the noodles are cooked, he drains them and moments later, Y/N re-enters the kitchen, her glass filled with red wine again.
"Nope." His fingers close around the thin stem of the glass and before she can protest, he puts it on a higher cupboard where she can't reach and looks at her. "I don't think you should drink any more. Really, trust me." She looks at him sullenly and presses her lips into a thin line.
"Spoilsport" she growls as she puts oil in the pan.
"Spoilsport? Yeah, say that again tomorrow when you only have a slight hangover." With a wink, he puts the noodles in the hot pan.
As punishment for this comment, she gently pushes him away from the stove and goes back to cooking. Eddie takes the opportunity to dump the wine and fill the glass with water.
"Here, drink some water." He puts the glass down next to her and watches her as she frys the noodles with the egg and cheese mixture.
"You see, nothing burned." She defiantly holds the plate with the food under his nose. "I wouldn't have needed your help."
But he only replies with a laugh: "Oh, and what was that about the fridge? YOU called ME because you desperately needed help.”
"You called me because you desperately needed help." she mimics him and grimaces, whereupon both of them burst out laughing after a moment.
"Do you think you have everything you need now or should I stay before you call me in 10 minutes anyway because you need help?" No matter what her answer is, he will still try to stay with her. Not because he's pushy. Rather, because he's a little worried. This whole situation and the way she reacted to his question about her fiancé makes him suspect that something is wrong. And he couldn't deal with himself if something happened after he left her alone.
"Now that you're here," she begins, mouth full with noddles, "you can stay here if you want. Then we both won't be so lonely." Now it's her who gives him a meaningful wink.
"Lonely," he repeats, raising his hands for imaginary quotation marks. "I am not lonely."
"Pfft, of course," she agrees, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
With a cheeky expression that cues him to follow her, she squeezes past him and goes into the living room.
The documentary about sharks is already over and has since been replaced by a news program. As Eddie enters the living room, he freezes for a moment. The large dining table in front of him is set for a big dinner. With a bouquet of flowers, a candlestick whose candles have already burned down, and a meal that has been prepared with great effort. Steaks, bacon-wrapped beans, hash browns, gravy. The plates and cutlery are prepared like in one of those posh restaurants, beautiful wine glasses are ready, two champagne glasses are filled. But the champagne stopped sparkling long ago, the food is cold and the wine bottle is empty.
With furrowed eyebrows, he turns to Y/N, who has flopped down on the sofa and is now seasoning the noodles with ketchup. He's not entirely sure whether to address the table setting and good food, or ignore it the way she does. Eventually, however, he gives in to his curiosity.
"You know, you have a table full of delicious food, probably very expensive food by the looks of it, and you call me to help you open the fridge so you can make noodles with eggs?" he asks her in disbelief and points to the table with a very sweeping, expansive gesture.
"Oh shut up.", she whispers to him grimly. “You don't have to stay here. Fuck off and leave me alone too." At least now he is pretty sure that he has hit a sore spot. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.
“Woah, woah, woah! Now, slow down, Megaera." With a short laugh, he tries to lighten the mood, in vain. Cautiously, as if he were approaching a starving big cat, he takes one step toward her and stretches out his hands in a reassuring gesture. "Did he stand you up?" His voice is softer than before, more caring. He sits next to her on the sofa and watches her hurriedly stuff the noodles into her mouth, presumably to keep her mouth busy so it doesn't tell him what's going on. But it's too late for that.
"I called his workplace. We wanted to eat together, I cooked for us." Although she fights it, the words just flow out of her mouth. “And I was already done waiting for him. After an hour he still wasn't there, so I picked up the phone and called. Maybe he had to work overtime at short notice and couldn't call me, you know?" He nods attentively and gestures for her to continue.
“So I asked if he was still there or if he was already on his way home. And his colleague” Unintentionally she laughs hysterically. "His colleague tried to tell me that his fiancée picked him up three hours ago." Still uncomprehending, she shakes her head.
“What do you mean, his fiancee? I thought you were … "
"Yeah, so do I." She looks at him with a grim smile and has to fight back the tears that sting her eyes and blur the view.
He notices how painful it is for her and can't even imagine what it must be like for her. Without further ado, he stretches out his arms and pulls her into a tight embrace.
"Come here." He whispers in her ear and gently rubs her upper arm. "You deserve better than him."
Soon his t-shirt is soaked with her tears as he gently hugs her crouched body. They could have sat there for hours, days, weeks, he wouldn't care as long as he could hold and comfort her.
"I never thought he'd be capable of something like that..." she sobs once the tears dried up. "I mean, yeah, we've had our problems and arguments. But doesn't every couple have them? Is that … Isn't that perfectly normal in a relationship?" She looks at him with red, swollen eyes, "You can talk about anything, right? There's nothing that can't be explained."
"So 'a few problems and arguments' is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Looking back, he found there were more than 'a few' problems and far too many arguments between the two.
"What do you mean?" she asks confused and pushes away from him to get a better look at him. Not sure what to say now, without sounding like a stalker or pervert, of course, he is silent for a moment. But it's better to tell her the truth, maybe then she'll understand that this relationship was a bad decision.
"The walls are very thin, you know?" he tries to explain carefully and waits for her reaction for a moment before he continues his statement.
"Do you really think nobody knew what he was like? Do you honestly think nobody knew where you got that black eye from? Or the bruises on your knees?" Eddie really needs to focus not to get too angry or loud. He would love to ask her if she was just too stupid or naive to see what a bad person he is.
"Just the fact of how he reacted when we watched a movie together. Has it never occurred to you that a partner shouldn't react like that? I think he was pretty close to throwing hands the last time he kicked me out. And why? Because you helped me sew a new patch onto my vest?" During its execution, she remains silent. It's true, when you're in love, you see everything through rose-tinted glasses. But Eddie is right, she now has to admit it painfully.
"I don't want to blame you, really. But you should start to see that he's the wrong guy for you." And he's right about that too. It tears her apart inside. Of course she deserves better, someone who appreciates her and is loyal, who loves and honors her. On the other hand, she loves him. At least that's what she thinks. Or does she just love the idea of him as he used to be?
"He really could have picked a better day for it than my birthday." Shit. Is it her birthday? Stunned, he shakes his head. A simple "asshole" is all he can think of.
Tears sting in her eyes again and her throat seems to constrict. Eddie grabs a tissue and tries to wipe away her new tears.
"Shhht, it's going to be okay," he whispers while pulling her into another hug. At the moment he doesn't know how everything is supposed to be okay again, but he's pretty sure that he can at least help her at this moment.
After a while her tears dried up. Both of them are now lying on the couch, she has buried her fingers in his t-shirt, he has wrapped his arms tightly around her. He desperately hopes that she can't hear how fast his heart is beating. Not only because of the anger that had boiled up in him towards her fiancé, but also because his body probably likes it more than it should to be so close to her. Before that, he never realized how much he actually liked her. Why is he only now noticing it? Probably, he thought, because she had really opened up to him now and he really got to know her the way she really is. Suddenly she is not just the neighbor with whom you have a quick chat in the hallway or watch a film, the neighbor who watches documentaries to fall asleep when he comes home at night or who puts a pasta casserole in front of the door for him to eat when he comes home from gigs with his band in the early hours of the morning and is certainly not able to cook.
Suddenly she is such a vulnerable person lying in his arms, who has revealed her pain to him and shares her grief. He doesn't know how long they've been lying there. The news program has since been replaced by a home shopping show, which is now running in the background.
Her eyes are closed and with each breath her chest presses against his for a split second. Never in his life could he have imagined holding her so close. And he never dared to even think about holding her in any way. With his free hand he grabs the blanket and pulls it over her so she doesn't have to freeze. The longer he lies snuggled together on the couch with her, feeling her breath against his skin, the smell of her shampoo in his nose, the more he begins to enjoy it. It feels so natural and by God he can't think of anything better than being able to spend every night like this. How can someone give up something like that so easily? How can someone give up and replace someone like HER so easily? This is completely incomprehensible to him. And then also on her birthday?
She seems to have fallen asleep in his arms by now. Her grip on his shirt went slack and the rest of her body seems to relax in his embrace as well. He can't explain it, and he certainly can't stop it, his body suddenly seems to have taken control. He carefully leans a little towards her until some of her wild hair tickles his nose. His lips gently touch her skin as he plants a kiss on her forehead. It just feels like he has to do this, he has no choice but to tell his body not to do it.
He whispers a soft "Happy Birthday." before he pulls her closer and rests his chin on the top of her head, still thinking she's asleep.
"Eddie?" Her sleepy voice startles him. Eyes wide, he freezes for a moment, heat rising in his cheeks as he feels caught.
"Yeah?" he replies uncertainly, maybe she's just thirsty or he's lying on her hair. Maybe she did not even notice the kiss.
"Can you do that again?" She noticed. She actually did notice. Unimaginable shame floods through him, but he tries to play it down as if nothing happened. Maybe he can make her think she imagined it while she was half asleep?
"Do what again?"
"That little peck, it felt good." It felt good? That little gesture born of a pure, thoughtless gut feeling? Yes, that's exactly what felt good.
She has long forgotten what it's like to feel loved and secure. What it's like to just be held in someone's arms. And she has long forgotten what it's like to be kissed properly. With love, adoration, full of affection. Even if it was just a quick kiss, thoughtlessly. It kindled old, lost feelings in her.
He hesitates for a moment. But the kiss felt so natural and right to him, he doesn't even realize how much he longs to press his lips against her smooth skin again.
Both of them might not want to admit it, but that little innocent touch gets them excited like teenagers before their first kiss. Trembling with tension and keeping his breath normal in high concentration, he now bends down to her again. When his lips brush her hairline again and she feels his warm breath on her skin, a storm of butterflies breaks out in her stomach.
And not only she is overwhelmed by this comfortably warm, safe and yet incredibly exciting feeling.
Her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt again before, without thinking, she lifts her head and presses her lips against his.
It takes him a moment to realize what exactly is happening, but doesn't hesitate for a second when her lips touch his. With his right hand, he presses her body flush against his, his left hand travels up into her hair only to slide down her cheek and cup her face moments later.
Their lips slowly move to a silent rhythm that only the two of them seem to hear. The melody gets faster and faster and their lips adapt to the rhythm, the voices from the TV in the background are now completely silent for the two of them. They only hear their racing heartbeats and the breathing of each other. And despite his very assertive and greedy demeanor, he still seems to be asking with every move if she's okay with it. As he deepens the kiss and runs the tip of his tongue gently over her lip, his hand travels from her face to the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair. Both of their heartbeats are so strong, complementing the melody with each pounding like the thumping of a bass guitar. After a few moments, they break the kiss to catch their breath. He rests his forehead against hers and seems to be staring into her soul. Tightly embraced and trembling with excitement, they need a moment to return to reality, to the here and now. Gradually their breathing returns to normal and a wide, overjoyed smile is reflected on their lips.
"Don't you dare think I have a crush on you," she threatens with a crooked grin that she tries to suppress. Her heart is still beating so fast she thinks it's about to burst out of her chest. She can't even remember ever being so fulfilled and happy, let alone having such an incomparably beautiful kiss.
Eddie wears a mischievous grin, small dimples form on his cheeks. Has he always had dimples like that? she wonders. They are so adorable, his grin so mesmerizing.
"Too late," he tells her defiantly. "I think you're pretty much in love with me." She can barely cover her insecure and shy laughter with a roll of her eyes. But he's right, even if it's hard for her to admit it.
"But you're not the only one with a pretty big crush," he adds in a calmer, deeper voice. He puts his hand on her chin again, lifting her head up to place his lips on hers again.
"I don't think I've ever had such a horrible yet beautiful birthday," she whispers against the kiss, now cupping his scratchy face as well.
"And all because you couldn't open your fridge." He can't help but make that stupid comment. And as revenge she punches him gently on the upper arm.
"Asshole." She insults him, laughing.
"As long as you kiss me, you can call me whatever you want."