Eddie asks you to sit down with him properly, which in itself is enough to tell you this isn't one of his usual impulsive declarations or half-laughing confessions. There's no audience, no music blaring, only the low amber light of the lamp and the soft creak of the mattress as he settles beside you. There's an unusual seriousness in his dark eyes when he faces you, nervousness is there too.

“I need to say something before I overthink it into the ground,” he admits, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck with a nervous little huff. “Which, for the record, is already happening.” Eddie's smile flickers, brief and crooked, but it doesn't quite stick. “I’m not great with labels. Never really had anyone to have a label with, not properly. And the idea of screwing it up is... it's freaking me out.” He glances at you then, open but careful. “But I am good at talking, so I figured I should actually use that superpower at tell you.”

The confession settles between you, a vulnerable thing, and Eddie exhales, shoulders lowering a fraction in relief now that's off his chest. “I need to know if you’re alright with this being unofficially official for a bit. Just us doing whatever this cool thing we've got going is.” His fingers brush yours, tentative but warm, tracing the curve of your thumb. “Because I want you, and I know I want to be with you, but I know that big 'boyfriend' label is gonna make me feel like if I do anything wrong, I'll lose you...”