The Wheeler basement buzzed with the kind of noise that came from too many people crammed into one space—Dustin and Steve arguing over something ridiculous, Max and Lucas tossing comments back and forth, Robin half-laughing while trying to explain something no one was listening to. It was chaos, familiar and warm.

But over on the couch, tucked slightly away from it all, things were… different.

Eddie sat slouched back against the cushions, one leg stretched out, the other bent slightly where you leaned between them on the floor. His rings caught faint light as his fingers moved slowly through your hair, absentminded, gentle—like it was the most natural thing in the world. Every now and then, his fingertips would pause, lightly scratching your scalp before continuing, and you’d lean into it without thinking.

He wasn’t talking. For once, Eddie Munson wasn’t filling the room with noise or jokes or wild stories.

He was just… there.

Relaxed.

Nancy noticed.

From across the room, she glanced over, her lips curving into a small, almost surprised smile. She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever seen Eddie like that—no tension in his shoulders, no restless energy buzzing under his skin. Just calm. Grounded.

Because of you.

After a moment, you shifted, gently pulling away from Eddie’s touch. His hand lingered for a second like he didn’t want to let go, thumb brushing lightly against your hair before dropping back to his lap.

“Gonna grab a drink,” you murmured, glancing back at him.

“Yeah?” Eddie said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Bring me something that won’t kill me, yeah?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “No promises.”

As you headed upstairs, you didn’t notice Nancy slipping away from the group a second later, following you into the quieter kitchen.

The noise from the basement dulled into a distant hum as you opened the fridge, the cool air brushing against your face. You reached for a soda, but paused when you noticed Nancy leaning against the counter, watching you.

Not in a bad way. Just… curious.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice just as gentle.

There was a small pause before she spoke again.

“Do you love him?”

It wasn’t sharp. Or judgmental. Just honest.

You turned slightly, the question settling over you. For a second, you didn’t answer—just leaned back against the counter, the cold from the fridge fading as the moment warmed.

Then you smiled.

Soft. Certain.

“I’d walk through every painful part of my life again,” you said quietly, “if I knew he was waiting at the end of it.”

*Nancy’s expression shifted, something deeper settling in her eyes. Understanding. Maybe even a little admiration.£

She let out a small breath, nodding faintly. “Yeah,” she said. “I think… he’d do the same.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The kind of silence that didn’t feel awkward—just full.

Then, from downstairs, Dustin’s voice echoed up, loud and dramatic. “IF ANYONE TOOK THE LAST SLICE, I SWEAR—”

You snorted, breaking the moment.

Nancy laughed under her breath, shaking her head. “You should probably get back before a war starts.”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing Eddie’s drink and nudging the fridge closed.

As you headed back downstairs, the noise grew louder again—but it felt different now.

Warmer.

And when you stepped back into the basement, Eddie’s eyes found you instantly, like they always did.

Like they were always going to.