The Upside Down pressing down on her, Vecna close enough that the smell of charred flesh fills her nose, her mother's voice echoing – Chrissy has recited it to him before, and Eddie feels the vice grip on his lungs every time he's jerked awake by it. A noise of distress, eyes moving too quickly behind lids, breath a staccato in her lungs. Waking her has become easier as time goes on, having learned the best ways to rouse her.
Chrissy tells him she has them less when he's with her, that he chases the bad dreams away like her own personal knight. While he knows it's meant to comfort him, it just makes him worry more on the nights she can't stay, or where he's not able to scale the lattice to climb through her window. That's when they talk late into the night, when he waits for her to fall asleep.
So, while rare, it still makes his stomach turn in the worst way. Rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow, his free hand reaches to comb her hair from her forehead, drifting down to cup the side of her face with a tenderness reserved only for Chrissy. Thumb across her cheek, he begins to sing; voice is gravel rough, heavy with interrupted sleep. ]
Uptown girl, [ he murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard. ] She's been living in her uptown world.
[ It usually only takes the first verse to pull her out, to draw her to the surface as though she were being dragged asunder by Vecna himself. Eddie waits, sings to her until her breathing evens, until she can find the waking world again. It's only when her eyes open that the crease of worry in his brow eases, relief seeping in. ]
Morning, princess. [ As though it isn't still pitch black outside, late hours of the night on the bedside clock. ]
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The Upside Down pressing down on her, Vecna close enough that the smell of charred flesh fills her nose, her mother's voice echoing – Chrissy has recited it to him before, and Eddie feels the vice grip on his lungs every time he's jerked awake by it. A noise of distress, eyes moving too quickly behind lids, breath a staccato in her lungs. Waking her has become easier as time goes on, having learned the best ways to rouse her.
Chrissy tells him she has them less when he's with her, that he chases the bad dreams away like her own personal knight. While he knows it's meant to comfort him, it just makes him worry more on the nights she can't stay, or where he's not able to scale the lattice to climb through her window. That's when they talk late into the night, when he waits for her to fall asleep.
So, while rare, it still makes his stomach turn in the worst way. Rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow, his free hand reaches to comb her hair from her forehead, drifting down to cup the side of her face with a tenderness reserved only for Chrissy. Thumb across her cheek, he begins to sing; voice is gravel rough, heavy with interrupted sleep. ]
Uptown girl, [ he murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard. ] She's been living in her uptown world.
[ It usually only takes the first verse to pull her out, to draw her to the surface as though she were being dragged asunder by Vecna himself. Eddie waits, sings to her until her breathing evens, until she can find the waking world again. It's only when her eyes open that the crease of worry in his brow eases, relief seeping in. ]
Morning, princess. [ As though it isn't still pitch black outside, late hours of the night on the bedside clock. ]
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exorcised one brainrot for this one ♥ also slight tw for vague ed allusions
rot to be replaced by hellcheer brainworms
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