𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆

20

𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻
˚ · • . ° .

My fingertips feel extremely wrinkled as I wring out my soaked t-shirt. I watch the water droplets pour down onto the floor of the forest, creating a puddle.

I unravel the piece of clothing, shaking it out before putting it back on.

I sigh to myself as I pull at the hem of the fabric, trying my best to straighten it out since its clinging to my body.

I pick up the walkie-talkie at my feet, along with the walkman that we had managed to scavenge from the water.

The walkie-talkie looks like it's totally busted, and there's no point in even trying to use it.

The walkman however, seems like it might have a chance. The fact that it could save my life makes it more valuable, but it's really a shot in the dark if we attempt to make it work.

I fold the objects over into my arm, protecting them. I turn around to find Eddie blankly standing there, staring off into the forest before us. His eyes looked like they're holding a million thoughts at a time.

"Eddie?" I whisper, walking towards him.

He doesn't respond, instead he just continues to stare off, completely ignoring me.

The only sound heard is the leaves beneath me being crunched by my footsteps as I continue to walk towards him.

I place my free hand on his arm, catching his attention as he turns his head to look at me.

"You alright?" I ask, looking back and forth between his eyes.

He pauses for a minute before nodding. His eyes look mournful, but most of all confused.

I can't help but feel sympathy for the boy, even though he was the reason we tipped and fell into the water. I haven't seen him this shaken up at all. Even whenever it happened to Chrissy, he was the one comforting me.

I clear my throat.

"I saw Skull Rock down that way," I take my hand off of him and use it to point towards the location, "it's probably best we stay there for the night. We'll know where we are at least."

Eddie simply nods, beginning to walk the way I pointed.

˚ · • . ° .

As we're walking in the direction, Eddie's voice breaks through the crisp air, "Does it work?"

I look at him, and see that he's pointing at the walkman in my hands.

"I don't know," I say, tossing it at him, "you tell me, since music is your thing or whatever."

He fumbles with the device before catching it, and then laughs at my words, "Yeah, music is kind of my thing."

He smirks to himself as he turns it over and inspects it, "Walkmans and guitar are very different though, Iz."

"Guitar?" I ask interested, while faintly remembering the time he gave me a pick.

"Yeah," he nods, looking up at me as we continue walking, "I'll play for you sometime, don't worry."

"Oh, I suppose that's a privilege?" I sarcastically question, smirking.

"I mean, I would say it is." he matches my tone of sarcasm, "Eddie Munson playing a song for somebody sounds like a nice privilege to me."

I chuckle at his response, and he lets out small snicker. The sound of our laughter and the twigs breaking under our feet is the only sound heard in the still forest at the moment.

Eventually we find Skull Rock, and I duck as I move under it. I set down the walkie-talkie near the rock, since it's useless anyway. I get on my knees and begin to brush away some leaves and twigs, preparing my "bed" for the night.

I hear Eddie's footsteps close behind me. Soon enough I hear a loud thump, telling me that he's already laid down, without even checking to make sure he's not sleeping on bugs.

Stupid.

I silently roll my eyes at the boys actions and I carefully lay down. I can feel the pebbles and dirt beneath me, some of them sticking to my soaked shirt.

The crickets seem to be chirping extra loud tonight, and the moonlight shines roughly into my eyes.

The air is so cold that I swear I'm going to turn into an icicle soon. The wet clothes I'm dressed in do not help that fact either.

I also know that there is no way Eddie is comfortable right now, he cannot possibly be able to fall asleep in these conditions.

I roll over to find Eddie, who was already watching me. Once our eyes meet, I think I see a spark of realization in his eyes.

I watch his adam's apple move as he excessively swallows. He then turns back around, as if he dismissed his realization, putting his hand under his head to act as a pillow.

I don't know what else to do rather than to turn back around also. I'm now blankly staring at the solid piece of rock in front of my face, just as I was before.

My teeth begin to slightly chatter and my hands rub the outsides of my arms, attempting to keep warm in this weather.

Suddenly, there's shuffling heard from behind me, and there's an open arm in the corner of my eye, hesitating to fall down over me.

As I turn my head, I'm suddenly aware of Eddie's whole body just inches from mine, and a rough voice asks, "Can I?"

I swiftly nod, and his arm immediately falls on top of me. I feel the rest of his body pressed up against mine, even the rising and falling of his breathing is felt against my back.

The warmth of his body is spread to mine and I've never been so grateful. My teeth stop slightly chattering and my hands quit rubbing on my arms.

I turn around, my forehead being met with his chest. I reluctantly rest my body onto him. I sigh before saying, "You know, we wouldn't have to do this if it wasn't for you."

"Oh, so Patrick floating in the air and everything is my fault?"

"Well we would've been dry if you weren't so freaked out about something that we've literally seen before. But yeah, pretty much, Munson."

He scoffs into my ear, "Back to a last name basis now are we?"

"Shut up." I mumble into his shirt. I shake my head at his stupidity, and I'm sure he feels it.

I can feel his long hair resting on the top of my head, and it's bothering me. I bring a single hand up, and carefully move his hair back over his shoulder, before gently resting my hand next to my face, on his chest.

I dip my head low, preparing for sleep, which I'm ninety-nine percent sure I will not be receiving.

Eddie's voice comes out of nowhere, breaking the constant sound of crickets chirping, "Goodnight, Iz."

Before I can warn him to never call me that again, a yawn fills my mouth instead.

All I can manage to get out is a, "Night, Munson."

⋆·˚ ༘ *