a/n: alright, folks, here it is - eddie's pov. please be gentle because i don't think it matters how many times i rewrote this, as a perfectionist, this may never be up to my standards. keep the expectations low.

Eddie Munson has never sat still a day in his life.

He always had to be moving; fidgeting with his rings, bouncing his legs, performing theatrics for anyone and everyone who would entertain him for even a second. It had been this way since he was a child, according to his uncle. Teachers all through middle school complained about the way he bounced his pencil on his desk. High school clearly hadn't gotten any better. Eddie Munson simply always had to be moving - it was the way it always had been, and always would be.

Until tonight. Until suddenly, he had a relaxed Willow Jenkins pressed into the chair beside him, head occasionally bumping his shoulder, legs slack across his lap.

Suddenly, Eddie was even holding his breath in fear that one wrong move would cause her to regret it all. Not just sitting with him, but choosing him for her fake-dating scheme. He had been waiting with baited breath for the other shoe to drop between them the last two weeks. The entire situation felt like a dream in the best way, and if he had learnt anything in life, it was that nothing could stay that good for long. Eventually, Willow would grow bored, or Steve would admit his very obvious feelings. Something would happen and Eddie would have to return to his reality. Tonight wasn't the first time this thought had crossed his mind. He'd thought about it the night at Family Video, when Willow had left Steve and himself alone long enough for an awkward conversation to ensue and for Steve to all but confirm his feelings for Willow to Eddie.

--

The moment that Willow had left the two alone, Steve turned to Eddie with a glare. Eddie's eyes were far too busy following after the redhead, gaze lingering far too long for their fake situation.

"Okay, Munson, level with me - what the fuck are your intentions with her?" Steve's voice was harsh and all of his indifference from earlier had melted. Eddie knew he couldn't stand their flirting, and he knew his cool guy demeanor had been for Willow's sake. Considering how far away she looked, Eddie was willing to guess she didn't realize this.

"Pardon me?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, taking his time to let his gaze fall away and reroute itself on Steve.

Steve huffed, leaning on the counter, clearly trying to look menacing. "You heard me. What's your endgame here? Because that girl? That girl deserves the world and I'll be damned if I let some loser who can't give her that-"

"I agree. She deserves the world," Eddie interrupted, suddenly feeling an unnecessary bitterness come up in his throat. "Listen, man, I know that. You know that, I know that, the old dude who lives two trailers down from me knows it. Anyone with eyes knows that."

Steve was silent, rage in his eyes. His knuckles were white from his grip on the counter, "Yeah? Which means you know she deserves better than whatever game you're playing-"

"I'm not playing some game with her, man," Eddie interrupted Steve, again , "I'm- Actually, I'm asking her to be mine tonight."

The silence between them was heavy. Eddie could see a forced defeat, a certain terrible hopelessness, that crossed over Steve's face. Actually, it blatantly flooded over all his features - his shoulders slumped, his breath hitched, his eyes immediately shut. Gone was whatever intimidating persona that Steve Harrington was trying to use on Eddie.

"What?" he whispered, and Eddie felt bad for a moment. The heartbreak was clear.

How could Willow not realize that she has Steve wrapped around her finger already?

Eddie remembered quickly, however, that this was the point - he didn't need to have empathy for Steve Harrington. He needed to get under his skin. "Yeah. I was going to ask her to hang out, you know. Drive around. Ask her to officially be my girlfriend. She's great. I just... no one has ever given me the time of day like she has, you know? Makes me want to be a better man."

Eddie really can't chastise Steve for being so pathetic when it came to getting the girl. He wasn't lying - Willow Jenkins had stirred an ache within him that made him want to be good enough for her. He knew that their situation was fake, that this would all be over one day and that Steve would be the one to get the girl, just as the movies would have it. One day, a day that would be coming all too soon Eddie feared, the Universe would shift back to what it once was. Eddie would be the lonely freak, and Steve would be the glowing boyfriend who got the girl of everyone's dreams.

"Oh," Steve was clearly rendered speechless, "Okay."

"Okay? That's all you have to say?" Eddie chuckled nervously, "You looked like you were ready to punch me a minute ago."

"I was - I am. I just..." he trailed off, and he turned to look at the door to the backroom Willow was currently in. "Jesus Christ, man. Please don't break her heart, or I'll... I don't know, I'll break your nose."

"I know you suck at fighting, Harrington. But... point made," Eddie sighed, leaning on the counter, staring off at the same exact spot as he was.

"You look at her the way I looked at Nancy, you know?" Steve's voice was quiet. An unnecessary vulnerability was being shared between the two that made Eddie uncomfortable, but he didn't stop Steve from oversharing, "Nancy Wheeler. You look at her the way I like to think I looked at her. And look where that got me."

"I'm not you, Steve. And Jenkins... Jenkins is no Nancy Wheeler."

She's better. She's better than Nancy Wheeler in every sense of every aspect.

"No, she isn't," Steve sighed. There's more to be said between the two boys, more unspoken threats and knowledge and wisdom that they probably could pass back and forth for hours if they were friends instead of whatever version of enemies that they had settled into for Willow's sake. But none of it is brought to fruition when the flash of red hair returns through the threshold.

Eddie Munson hates Steve Harrington, but he hates that he understands him in that moment even more - he knew that his heart was skipping a beat the exact same way his was right now. They probably both shared a lovesick face.

Eddie Munson hates Steve Harrington, but he hates the fact that Steve's had longer to love Willow Jenkins than Eddie will ever be rewarded even more.

It's a hard pill to swallow.

--

"You okay?" Eddie is torn from his wandering thoughts at Willow's voice, soft and low in his ear. He immediately tilts his head slightly, looking down at her wide eyes.

Fuck, she's pretty.

He doesn't realize he's yet to answer her question until she gently bumps him with her elbow.

"I'm fine," he whispers back, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You just... you seem really stiff. Are you comfortable? I can move my le-"

"No!" he whisper-yells, catching a glare from Robin and Steve to which he apologetically grins at them. He answers Willow in an ever lower tone than before, "Sorry, but uh, nope. You're all good. I'm fine, I'm comfortable."

A scream comes from the screen that makes Eddie flinch, but Willow doesn't react. He forgets that she's a horror fanatic, that she's probably seen this movie more times than she could count on one hand.

He can see the wheels turning behind her eyes, eyebrows scrunched in concern still despite his reassurances. His heart is racing - he's unable to read her fully, only left wondering what her next move will be. He tries to guess. Maybe she'll reach for popcorn, or grab some candy, or call out his bullshit.

She doesn't do any of that. He would never have expected her next action, which probably explains her small smile she wears once she does it.

She takes his arm pressed into her side and lifts it, gentle but forceful as she wraps it to hang around her shoulders. It allows her to tuck into his side more fully, curling up and placing her head on his shoulder with ease. After a second, she grabs his other hand and places it carefully atop of her knees - clearly trying to indicate that he didn't have to keep it between himself and the seat. The entire movie he'd been fighting against touching her too much, making her too uncomfortable. He knew this was something new to her. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

Clearly, it wasn't overwhelming her.

Once she's rearranged them, Eddie can't even fight the relaxation that falls over him. Maybe it's the smell of her vanilla perfume encasing him. Maybe it's the comfort in the weight of her head on his shoulder. Maybe it's the way she fits so perfectly in his side. His entire body has finally gone soft, jaw finally slack from its unconscious clenching and a breath he wasn't aware he was holding leaving his mouth in a sigh.

"Better?" she asks him quietly, her breath fanning over his neck. It sends a chill down his spine.

"Much," he replies in a hushed tone, letting his fingers trail over her kneecaps subconsciously. It was a gentle action, an affectionate one.

Before Willow, Eddie had been a touchy guy. He was always finding excuses to occupy other peoples' spaces. It was as if he was scared that if he didn't force his way into their physical space, he would never be awarded their mental space either. Being forgotten - it was an irrational fear that Eddie had grappled with his entire high school career. So it was ironic, now, that he had found such solace, such a soothing remedy to that fear, in someone who had perfected the art of being forgotten.

He'd seen Willow around the previous years, and he'd seen the way she managed to blend into a crowd perfectly. In fact, she hadn't even entered his radar until they'd shared a math class last year. She had only been a junior, and here Eddie was, repeating his senior year. He watched the way she was always first to turn in her test, and the teacher never returned them to her facing downwards as he had done to Eddie. It was always facing up, the bright red ink spelling out nothing but A's every time. Eddie had considered moving seats halfway through the year to start cheating off of her. There was one particular test in which he had even tried to enact that plan by arriving to class early, the lack of a seating chart ensuring him a seat beside her. But when he walked into Mr. Barton's classroom, he was startled to see multiple students already occupying all the seats around her. He'd snagged a seat closer to her than normal, knowing it was futile but convincing himself that maybe he'd get a glimpse of her correct answers. He hadn't. Instead, he'd seen something unexpected, something he didn't expect from a goody-two-shoes who probably had a 4.0 GPA, who he had assumed never cheated a day in her life and simply worked endlessly hard for her grades - the student to her right was cheating off of her, and she was letting him. It helped that she was left-handed, and at first that's what Eddie brushed it off as; the kid had just gotten lucky, or had the same idea as Eddie when he sat down next to her. But then, he saw her occasionally looking over to the boy, and the way she had slowly pulled her paper inconspicuously to the right side of her table. That had to inconvenience her. There was no way that placement would have made her more comfortable. And then, Eddie noticed the moment she finished the last question, she didn't immediately turn in the test. She sat there, pretending to erase and rewrite answers to a few questions as if she was stalling.

It was the first test he'd ever seen someone finish before Willow, the person beating her being the very boy that had been copying her.

When they got back the tests, Eddie watched like a hawk, catching sight of the boy's grade - a B. He'd lit up like a Christmas tree, even turning and looking over at Willow across the room. He'd flashed the paper briefly, just long enough for her to see the B, and she'd given him an enthusiastic thumbs up and a kind smile in return.

That was the day that Eddie Munson decided Willow Jenkins was one of the good ones.

After that, he noticed more often when they had classes together, or when she passed him at lunch. She never partook in any bullying, and Eddie knew it was the bare minimum, but it was more than just that. She never gave him weird looks, he never overheard her ever even speak badly of anyone when he'd catch glimpses into her conversations in passing.

It was always affectionate teasing between her and Buckley. Offering someone help with a problem they were stuck on in math class. Apologizing for bumping into tables. Small, endearing, adorable habits that Eddie noted. By the end of his second round of senior year, Eddie found himself consumed with thoughts of Willow more often than he was comfortable with.

There had been one particular conversation he'd overheard between her and Buckley in the hallways. Robin's locker was the one near Eddie's, and the two girls were standing there, bantering carelessly as it was the end of the day, and they had nowhere to be. For once, Eddie hadn't ditched half the day.

"I'm telling you, 'Low, octopuses are officially my new favorite animal. I mean, c'mon? Have you heard all the insane facts about them? Like - their blood is blue, god damn blue! And they have three hearts. Who even needs three hearts? They do, apparently. I mean, two of them are for like, moving the blood or whatever, but the third one is just for organ circulation and it stops when they're swimming. They have a heart that just stops , Jenkins! Tell me that isn't the coolest shit ever. Go on, tell me!"

Robin Buckley's ranting had been enough to give Eddie a headache that day, and he waited for Willow to respond cruelly. He knew if it was him, he would have. He probably would have said something along the lines of not caring about 'goddamn octopuses', or how Robin needed to take it down a few notches. A normal response, Eddie figured.

Willow Jenkins didn't respond normally.

"No, Jesus, that is t he coolest shit ever. What do you mean their heart just stops? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Willow had matched Robin's energy with ease, had encouraged Robin to even spiral down another rant filled with useless facts that Eddie had tuned out. His entire drive home, however, all he could think about was how endearing it was that Willow had entertained her friend. When he had turned to glance at the girls in disdain during Robin's second rant, he remembers how focused Willow looked. Robin Buckley had every ounce of her attention, and with every excited movement from her, Willow mirrored her. Eddie had never seen anyone be so sincere over a topic as stupid as octopuses . Sure, his friends entertained his word vomit from time to time over things he was passionate about, and Wayne allowed him one rant a week to him over his latest campaigns or the latest metal album he had on repeat, but they never looked at him like that. And he didn't blame them; who had the energy to care that much? Wayne worked relentlessly, the glazed over look in his eyes when Eddie explained the lore behind an Iron Maiden album was expected. And if Eddie wasn't discussing D&D, it made sense that the Hellfire Club would yawn or get distracted. He knew he could hold their attention well with his theatrics, but when it came down to rattling off facts of the things that really got him going, he had always figured it was normal for the other person listening to not match his energy. But he had never met Willow, or had a conversation with her.

Eddie Munson had always figured Willow was a good person, but the day he accidentally eavesdropped on her and Robin, it was solidified. Willow Jenkins was a girl with a bleeding heart, doing the small things to help everyone around her; whether it be letting a fellow, struggling peer cheat off of her or actively listening to her friend ramble about blue blood and three hearts. At this point, Eddie was convinced Willow was the one with three hearts.

"Where do you keep going?" the three-hearted girl beside him mumbles into his shoulder, looking up at him.

The movie was nearly over, Eddie thinks. "What do you mean?"

"You're distracted. What are you gonna do one day when there's a freaky ghost invading our dreams and trying to kill us, but you didn't watch the movie with me so you have no clue what to do to save us?"

Eddie chuckles softly. His hand smoothes over Willow's shoulder carefully, and he knows his gentle laughter has caught Steve's attention. He's all but burning holes into the sight of the two being comfy on the chair.

"Just don't sleep. Isn't that what they did?" Eddie says this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if he hadn't spent the entire time lost in his own mind. It didn't really matter, considering now his focus was fully on her.

"Exactly!" she suddenly sits up excitedly, beaming, "See, Harrington? Munson agrees with me! Just don't sleep!"

Steve groans from across the room, and Eddie immediately misses whatever bubble that he and Willow had been in by themselves just moments before.

"Again with this, you can't just not sleep !" Steve argues, everyone now focused on their argument rather than the movie, even though it was clearly hitting the climax.

"Isn't that what they just did in the movie, though?" Robin questions, waving her hand toward the screen.

"And look how that worked out! They still fell asleep eventually and Krueger still got to some of them," Steve runs a hand through his hair. Eddie had to bite back his smile, finding Steve's frustration far too entertaining.

"But they get to him eventually. You just can't admit that it's a solid plan," Willow huffs as she leans herself back, her chest falling closer to begin against Eddie's chest this time. It nearly takes his breath away. "Always so stubborn, King Harrington."

A flash of jealousy heats up Eddie's chest, but he chokes it back down. He knows he has no right, but he's jealous that Willow has nicknames for Steve. Mostly because she has yet to assign him with anything more endearing than 'idiot'.

She likes him. Of course she has a nickname for him.

He's not focusing as more words are passed between Steve and Willow, but at some point, she settles back comfortably against Eddie and they all silently begin to watch the movie once more. His nerves get the best of him the moment she's wrapping his arm back around her, her head finding home against his shoulder - he hardly notices that he's starting to fiddle with the ring on his right hand, the one that had once been resting on her knees, until her hands suddenly reach out to grab it.

She doesn't say a word, doesn't ask him once more if he's okay. Instead, she simply takes over the action. She twists the ring back and forth, eyes focused on the screen and not even glancing at him. He loves it, loves the warmth of her hands wrapped around him, loves the way just her touch soothes him over so effortlessly.