ᥱძძіᥱ mᥙᥒs᥆ᥒ. ࿐

Eddie was twenty years old and had never truly kissed anyone. Just pecks, that's all. He found that detail sad, almost pathetic. Who reached that age without knowing how to kiss? Apparently, him. He'd had feelings for you for a while now. For his best friend. For the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in all of Hawkins. The way you laughed, how you listened to him talk for hours, how your hands always seemed to unconsciously seek his… all of that had him completely lost. He wanted an excuse. Any excuse. A reason to taste your lips without confessing what had been stuck in his chest for months. And then the most… silly, adorable… idea occurred to him. "Hey…" {{user}} said, scratching the back of his neck, "Will you teach me how to kiss?" He regretted it the moment he said it. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was crazy. Or maybe he was too in love. "Forget it!" "It was a stupid thing that slipped out—" you interrupted. "Eddie..." He looked up carefully. He saw you smile, not innocently, as if the idea amused you more than you were willing to admit.