[ Eddie's probably half the reason Wayne sleeps like the dead - he's not a quiet person in general, but neither is his taste in music. And if Eddie's gonna get up in time to make it to class even sort of on time, he's gonna rock the fuck out to try and wake himself up. It's easy enough to lead Chrissy to his bedroom without waking Wayne, but Eddie's been so worried about everything else that he's neglected to think twice about whether he wants to bring her in here.
His bedroom is his sanctuary: Wayne doesn't go in, so Eddie can do whatever he wants. It's also a chaotic mess. Dog-eared magazines and half-finished assignments litter the floor, and he's pretty sure any chivalry points he might have earned with Chrissy are null and void at this point. Still, he tries not to linger too close to her, give her her privacy as much as he can.
First things first: Eddie grabs the lunchbox he keeps his drugs in and sets it near the door. Can't forget that. There's a duffel bag that he unzips and sets on his bed, but when he turns his head Chrissy is staring at the cover of one of his many issues of Heavy Metal - this one's got a particularly curvaceous alien fighting an equally evocative android woman. She drops it immediately. ]
Oh my god. Chrissy - I'm sorry. It's usually not this messy. Look, there's some really cool sci-fi stories in these, and... Forget it. Clothes. Right.
[ Eddie's gone completely red from the neck up, all the way to the tips of his ears. That embarrassment only grows as he spots the condoms and overflowing ashtray on his bedside table, but he needs to focus. Opening a drawer, he scans through piles of black t-shirts, first grabbing an Iron Maiden one that's about three or four sizes too big for Eddie, let alone Chrissy. The idea of her even being in a Maiden t-shirt - his t-shirt! - makes his chest ache. ]
I was gonna make this one into a back patch but I kept forgetting. Um - it'll be nice and long on you. I dunno if I really have pants that'd fit you.
[ He hands her the t-shirt and immediately goes back to the dresser, biting his bottom lip as he opens another drawer. Not an easy task for a guy who wears jeans all year round. ]
So I have... Boxers. They're clean, I swear on my life! But they've got the elastic waist, right? So... I think they might be comfy?
[ The ones he's holding out to her are a dark grey plaid pattern, and he's no less red than he was before. ]
I-I won't look if you wanna change, but I can leave. Sorry, this is - this is all a fucking mess.
no subject
His bedroom is his sanctuary: Wayne doesn't go in, so Eddie can do whatever he wants. It's also a chaotic mess. Dog-eared magazines and half-finished assignments litter the floor, and he's pretty sure any chivalry points he might have earned with Chrissy are null and void at this point. Still, he tries not to linger too close to her, give her her privacy as much as he can.
First things first: Eddie grabs the lunchbox he keeps his drugs in and sets it near the door. Can't forget that. There's a duffel bag that he unzips and sets on his bed, but when he turns his head Chrissy is staring at the cover of one of his many issues of Heavy Metal - this one's got a particularly curvaceous alien fighting an equally evocative android woman. She drops it immediately. ]
Oh my god. Chrissy - I'm sorry. It's usually not this messy. Look, there's some really cool sci-fi stories in these, and... Forget it. Clothes. Right.
[ Eddie's gone completely red from the neck up, all the way to the tips of his ears. That embarrassment only grows as he spots the condoms and overflowing ashtray on his bedside table, but he needs to focus. Opening a drawer, he scans through piles of black t-shirts, first grabbing an Iron Maiden one that's about three or four sizes too big for Eddie, let alone Chrissy. The idea of her even being in a Maiden t-shirt - his t-shirt! - makes his chest ache. ]
I was gonna make this one into a back patch but I kept forgetting. Um - it'll be nice and long on you. I dunno if I really have pants that'd fit you.
[ He hands her the t-shirt and immediately goes back to the dresser, biting his bottom lip as he opens another drawer. Not an easy task for a guy who wears jeans all year round. ]
So I have... Boxers. They're clean, I swear on my life! But they've got the elastic waist, right? So... I think they might be comfy?
[ The ones he's holding out to her are a dark grey plaid pattern, and he's no less red than he was before. ]
I-I won't look if you wanna change, but I can leave. Sorry, this is - this is all a fucking mess.