Hey, it's not like you meant to, ( Steve reasons. He wonders if Eddie's uncle is the type of man who might believe all the bullshit going around about Eddie. He hopes not, but decides not to ask. ) I think he'll get it.
( Hard to say for sure when he doesn't know the guy, but he'd like to think it's true. For Eddie's sake, if nothing else.
His mind wanders to the other things he might like to do once they get out of here, and a twinge of anxiety pierces his chest. This really feels like that old cliche, the one where the parents tell their kid the family dog just went away to live on a farm. It's like he and Eddie are just going through the motions to comfort themselves and make whatever horrible end awaits them more palatable.
He starts to think about all the things he took for granted that he may never get to experience again. Stuff like driving with the windows down in the springtime, dozing off on the couch next to Robin while whatever boring movie she picked blasts on the television. Fresh lemonade in the summer. Hot cocoa in the winter. Stupid little things he never realized he would miss so much. What if the last thing either of them know is this sour, suffocating place?
He realizes his grip on Eddie's hand has tightened without him meaning to, and he loosens it with a weak, apologetic smile. )
My birthday's in a few weeks, ( he says suddenly, but he doesn't really know why he's telling Eddie. (For the record it's not the mystery wikipedia birthday but it's some other Taurus date.) He delivers the news like he's simply reciting a fact: the sky is blue, grass is green, Steve Harrington's birthday is coming up soon. ) I'll be nineteen. ( He wrinkles his nose a little as he says it, as if nineteen is some unimaginably old age. ) Maybe that's what I'll do when we get out of here — throw a birthday party. Like a real one, you know? Cake, ice cream, the whole shebang.
no subject
( Hard to say for sure when he doesn't know the guy, but he'd like to think it's true. For Eddie's sake, if nothing else.
His mind wanders to the other things he might like to do once they get out of here, and a twinge of anxiety pierces his chest. This really feels like that old cliche, the one where the parents tell their kid the family dog just went away to live on a farm. It's like he and Eddie are just going through the motions to comfort themselves and make whatever horrible end awaits them more palatable.
He starts to think about all the things he took for granted that he may never get to experience again. Stuff like driving with the windows down in the springtime, dozing off on the couch next to Robin while whatever boring movie she picked blasts on the television. Fresh lemonade in the summer. Hot cocoa in the winter. Stupid little things he never realized he would miss so much. What if the last thing either of them know is this sour, suffocating place?
He realizes his grip on Eddie's hand has tightened without him meaning to, and he loosens it with a weak, apologetic smile. )
My birthday's in a few weeks, ( he says suddenly, but he doesn't really know why he's telling Eddie. (For the record it's not the mystery wikipedia birthday but it's some other Taurus date.) He delivers the news like he's simply reciting a fact: the sky is blue, grass is green, Steve Harrington's birthday is coming up soon. ) I'll be nineteen. ( He wrinkles his nose a little as he says it, as if nineteen is some unimaginably old age. ) Maybe that's what I'll do when we get out of here — throw a birthday party. Like a real one, you know? Cake, ice cream, the whole shebang.