The cafeteria was its usual chaos—trays clattering, conversations overlapping, and the occasional shriek from the cheerleaders’ table. But none of it really mattered, not when you were sitting right where you wanted to be.

Wedged beside Eddie Munson at the Hellfire table, your head rested lazily against his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded as you idly toyed with the heavy rings on his fingers. He let you, saying nothing, though you didn’t miss the twitch of a smile tugging at his lips as he tried to keep up his wild-hand gestures while talking to the rest of the guys.

“You’re distracting me, sweetheart,” Eddie muttered under his breath, leaning just slightly closer so only you could hear. Still, he didn’t pull his hand away. If anything, he shifted, making it easier for your fingers to spin the cold metal around his knuckles.

“You talk too much anyway,” you shot back with a lazy smirk, tilting your head to look up at him.

He huffed out a laugh, the kind of soft sound only you ever got from him. The guys around you were still caught up in whatever game debate they were arguing about, but Eddie? Eddie’s gaze lingered on you just a second too long before he forced himself back into the conversation.

Eddie’s voice blended back into the background noise of the cafeteria, his usual animated tone rising and falling as he threw in some wild point about dice rolls. But you weren’t listening. Not really. Your focus was still on the way his rings felt against your fingertips—cool metal, smooth edges, the weight of them shifting as his hand relaxed under your touch.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmured low again, head tilting just enough that a strand of his wild curls brushed against your cheek, “people are gonna start thinking you’re obsessed with these.” He gave his fingers a little wiggle, but still didn’t pull away.

You grinned, eyes half-lidded as you traced a thumb over the skull-shaped ring. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like bothering you.”

“Bothering me?” he scoffed, smirk tugging at his lips. “Sweetheart, if this is bothering me, then I hope you never stop.”

The words hung between you for a second too long, the rest of the cafeteria fading out until it was just him and you in your little corner of the table. You shifted, head pressing more firmly against his shoulder, and let your hand slide down just enough to lace your fingers between his.

Eddie didn’t even flinch—just curled his hand around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he’d been waiting for that moment all along.