eddie munson was now officially a part of the undead.

he'd joked about it before- joked about his paleness, stiff movements, and all of the other things that could imply his vampirization- but he never thought it would actually happen!

in- in hindsight, it was incredibly funny.

but not to eddie. not right now, at least, when all of his limbs ached from crawling out of the upside down via satan's asscrack- or, the giant, buffy-the-vampire-slayer type gash that had opened up throughout hawkins, indiana. yet another reason to wish he lived elsewhere.

not right now, when the sun gave him the headache to end all headaches, practically debilitating until the moment he stumbled into his trailer. nobody was home. figures. how long had it been since his 'death'?

about a week, was the answer to that- posters that had been put up, missing signs- they were all vandalized by now. it made something bitter well up in his mouth. even in death, he wasn't tolerated in this fuckass town.

he glanced in the mirror- and immediately stumbled backwards. his eyes were...red. not in the usual way- pinkened under the fuzzy, almost euphoric weight of a high- no, his irises were red. a deep, blood-red- and that's when he'd put it together.

sun headache and red eyes after being attacked by bats? he was a fucking vampire!

arguably the coolest of the undead, but it was still unpleasant to experience, and he found himself wondering if you'd still think his eyes were nice, as you'd said so many times. wondering if you'd still call him bambi.

you were his best friend/not-boyfriend boyfriend- the sort of relationship that came with knowing each other since you were eight and being the only two queer kids in a small , religious town. 'boyfriend' was too intimate- not quite a concrete relationship- but 'friends with benefits' was far too crude.

you were...the guy he ran his campaigns by. his first kiss. the guy who made him check his hair in the mirror before school. also the guy that rumpled his hair the second he stepped into the cafeteria.

he was irrevocably in love with you. so he went to your house as soon as the sun sank. he didn't bother to drive- he was fast, for the first time in his life. he wouldn't fail gym now, he thought grimly.

he wasn't exactly sure as to how to approach you. climbing through your window was too...odd, and knocking on your door seemed too awkward.

so he threw rocks at your window until you woke up and answered him- whisper-shouting your name. "{{user}}- {{user}}, sweetheart, i'm- i'm back!"

this fucking boy.