[ The field is, objectively, gross. Eddie doesn't seem to notice how their steps squish, her own heavy boots more than enough protection for her as they walk over to the first aid tent, her hand still absently curled around Tommy's wrist until he says something to her and she registers his presence again.
She squeezes his arm apologetically before letting him go, wringing her hands together instead, fiddling with the rings she wears and the bracelets that circle her own wrists. ]
I just know better than to say no to Stevie when she's in Mom Mode. [ She lifts her hand to absently touch the back of her head, wincing when her fingers make contact. Yep. That'll definitely be a nice goose egg in no time. ] She's had, like, eight concussions. She doesn't mess around with head injuries.
[ She turns to look at him, squinting a little against the misting rain, and eyes his neck. ] You good?
Don't know. [Can't see it.] I'm still walking, so I'm sure it's not that bad. [To say nothing of his nerves, but Tommy knows how to dial them down until he can get himself straight. Eight concussion, what the hell. Did that girl play high school football?
He glances over at Eddie, her hair drooping ringlets from it's pile and mist collecting to slide down her cheeks like tears. Fuck him, she's gorgeous. And he's the idiot who possibly concussed her.] Really am sorry about the way I tackled you. My response times are a little keyed-up.
[ Game recognizes game, after all. Eddie's hair has come a long way from the frizzy shag that she wound up sporting most of her school career, and that is in large part to the company she keeps nowadays. Also because she can afford to go get it cut by someone who know what they're doing. That helps a lot. Tommy's curls, even wet and pulled back, look like the kind of thing he takes pride in, and for good reason.
She lets herself weave a little as they walk, swaying into him so she can bump her shoulder against his. ]
Hey. If the choice is getting brained by a fresnal or getting knocked on my ass, I know which one I'm choosing. [ She restrains herself from calling him papi again, even if she desperately wants to. ] Sorry you got all cut-up because of me.
[The physical contact is accepted; doesn't grate on Tommy like it normal does when he's in his head. Eddie's an intermittent brush of warmth. Course he does check, glances over, to make sure that she's weaving on purpose and not because she can't walk a straight line.]
Probably would have taken a face-full of glass if I hadn't moved, so. [Tommy shrugs.] Guess we both dodged the short stick. So your drummer... she's a lot. Think I understand the earlier death threats.
[ It's a little bit because she's having a hard time keeping in a straight line, but it's mostly because Tommy's warm, and solid, and really fucking attractive, and Eddie's trying to be cool and not make a fool of herself.
Which is easier said than done, especially when Tommy brings up Stevie again.
There's a curl of disappointment that springs to life somewhere in her chest, a little resigned sigh that tries to make itself known in the back of her head, but she tries not to focus on that. People have been lusting after Stevie since well before she and Eddie started hanging out. Their first manager had tried to get her to give up drums to play something more audience-facing so they could capitalize on her long, long legs and movie-star hair, but Stevie had refused. She liked being in the back, liked keeping an eye on everyone. ]
Yeah, she's great. [ To her credit, she doesn't even sound bitter. Stevie is great. She's also a total smokeshow, and Eddie can't fault Tommy for noticing. ] Takes looking out for us really seriously. She's like the big sister I never had, except she's a year younger than me.
[A laugh coughs up his throat. He wasn't exactly thinking the word great when he brought up the death threats.] As a younger brother who's never been anything but the baby, I both can and can't relate. [Tommy's hand reaches out to grab Eddie as she wobbles slightly; he's just there, just has her gently at the elbow, like he's just touching her because he wants to, not because her balance faltered.
He knows a lot of guys who like women shorter than themselves, but for him there's nothing to mind about Eddie being every inch of his own height. Tommy chides himself for thinking about it at a time like this.]
[ She turns a bright grin towards him, her eyes big and warm as she looks him over. There's nothing about this man that screams baby to her, and she lets herself admire him even as they stumble through the mud together. Would she be as blatant about checking him out if she didn't have a possible concussion?
[Goddamnit woman, check that smile. Tommy hears himself think it in Joel's voice and shakes his head, smiling back at her despite himself. How could he not? He's got blood crawling down his neck, she's certainly some degree of concussed, she, Eddie Munson and he's walking with her to medical after a little brush with either death or disfigurement, Tommy's not sure he wants to parse which was closer.]
Just one brother. [He doesn't say it with a sigh, but. Tommy's basically ready at all times for what follows, because it always does. Your brother's so good lookin', Tommy. Even though most of the time Joel refuses, because he's still off-and-on again hung up on his ex-wife. Used to be that Tommy didn't mind when the girls came back after Joel turned them down but that phase of his life didn't last through the army. Now he's disappointed, sure, but he's got more self-worth now.] Year and a half older, as Irish as you can get despite. [He shrugs.] The tan.
[ Considering she has no idea what Tommy's brother looks like, she's not going to follow that question up with anything at all. Though, if pressed, she'd probably say she's sure that the man's handsome, after all, his baby brother looks like that.
She sways into him a little bit again, just to see if he'll tighten his grip on her. Normally she's not super into men laying their hands on her all willy-nilly and shit, but Tommy's earned a little leeway, what with him having just saved her life and all that. ]
Where you boys from? [ she asks, instead of voicing any comments she might make on the Irishness or lack thereof of his complexion. ] You don't sound like you're from Indiana.
[Yeah, leeway, and the fact that she's listing like a sailboat who's gotten the brunt end of bad weather.] Indiana? Nah. [Tommy points through the pop-up tents to where one a few rows back still waves a rather limp red cross on white background.]
Austin. This's our first big major tour; mostly stuck to Texas aside from a poke or two to southern California and circuit around the Four Corners.
[ Eddie's almost disappointed that they've finally forged through enough mud to make it to the medical tent. She'd rather been enjoying the chance to talk to him uninterrupted, and his hand on her arm is really warm.
She's in the process of trying to come up with something to say about how it's a good thing he's not from Indiana, because Indiana is a shithole of a state and she's been trying to get out of it her entire life, when he drops that both he and his brother are on the tour. Finally, enough hints have percolated through her banged-up brain that she's able to grasp at some information she knew she knew that was just out of reach the whole night. ]
Oh! You're, um. You're that duo that replaced what's-their-name. God, they were assholes. The, um, Miller Brothers, right?
[ She's back to grinning at him again, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners. ] I can't believe we've not run into each other yet, I'm so sorry, you must think I'm such a fucking diva I can't even introduce myself to the other acts.
[ She sticks her hand out at him like they're not already acquainted, dimpling at him in the misting rain. ] Welcome to the tour, papi.
Tommy opens his mouth once to say the Miller Brothers were assholes? but instead just nods as she goes on and then he opens his mouth to say there's twelve bands here and it's not like we drive together why would I think you're a diva? but instead gets hit smack in the face with papi. Fuckin' papi.
Ignoring the outstretched hand, Tommy faces Eddie and very seriously takes both of her shoulders in hand.] Thanks. Don't call me that.
[ Eddie's already half-laughing as he steps around her and plonks both his hands on her shoulders, giving her a serious look that she can't quite tell if is just a cover or not.
His hands are very warm. ]
Does it really bother you? [ To her credit, despite the laugh tucked in the corner of her mouth, she does seem sincere as she looks at him through spiky lashes and tries to get her expression under control. Her hands lift to circle his wrists, holding onto him right back. ] I'm sorry, I'll stop.
[He shouldn't want to kiss her. Stop wanting to kiss her, you idiot.]
Yeah, I'm a Miller brother, no, you're not a diva - that I know of - and it doesn't bother me as much as might embarrass you, papi is... [Tommy lifts a hand from her shoulder to make a broad but absent gesture.] Y'know. Kinda sexual.
[Is he blushing? Of course not. And if he were, well. A tan hides all sins. Right?]
[ Eddie's expression melts — she can feel it happening, her stupid expressive face is such a burden and a curse — as he explains his reluctance to let her keep calling him papi. She even goes so far as to bite her bottom lip, just for a moment, just until she can get herself under control.
The laugh still bubbles up in her voice as she responds, though. ]
Tommy. I know that. [ She grins at him, her eyebrows quirking under her wet bangs. ] I may have failed high school Spanish multiple times in a row, but even I know that papi means daddy.
[ She'd been under the impression that it was slightly less charged in Spanish versus in English, just from pop culture osmosis, but it's not like it was a secret as to what the word meant. She stands by her initial joke, though. One look at Tommy Miller all wet and heroic and she knew she'd picked the right nickname for him. ]
[Cultural charges don't really come into play when a slightly younger, unrelated by blood female is calling an older male daddy. But goddamn that laugh. Tommy snorts and shoves Eddie backward, lightly, playful. (Ready to grab her.)] Don't treasure it, but as long as you know what people around you are gonna think when they hear it, go with God. Chica.
[He points toward the medical tent.] But go with first-aid, first.
[ He can shove her if he wants, she's still got her hands around his wrists, and she knows him well enough now to know that if she really did stumble, he'd lunge forward to catch her. She's fine.
His permission makes him beam at him again, and she even goes so far as to wink at him. ]
Ugh, fine. [ She debates for a second being extra obnoxious and trying to use papi again, but decides to let the matter lie. For now. ] But you have to come with me. You're still bleeding, and while it looks very manly and sexy and shit, you probably need stitches. Or at least a butterfly bandage.
[ She ducks out from under his grip but continues to hang on to him so she can tow him into the tent with her, waving at the paramedic who'd clearly been briefed about their arrival based on the look on his face. ] And if either of us walk backstage without getting checked out Stevie's going to blow a gasket for real.
Stevie ain't gonna give a good goddamn about me, [Tommy mutters as Eddie drags him forward into the tent and into the waiting arms of the medical staff. If he'd thought a few steps ahead he'd admit that he was hoping to drop Eddie off and about-face.] And you don't need to blow smoke up my ass, I'm use enough to injuries, I just figured-
[He'd tried to turn, but a slight woman with a terrifying expression on her face steps in front of him and points to a chair, and Tommy sits. He swallows. Wants to ask for something, drugs, maybe, basic prescription shit, but doesn't. Rubs his forehead with fingers while he's examined.] She clocked the back of her head good on the stage, [he mutters at the guy helping Eddie - just so she doesn't get off light.]
That's what you think, [ she mutters darkly, well-acquainted with Stevie's habit of picking up strays. For an only child and someone who was honestly kind of a bitch most of their academic career, Stevie collects wayward ducklings even worse than Eddie does. Tommy had the bad luck to be bleeding in front of her, now she's going to check up on him at least for the next few days.
Most men wouldn't be stupid enough to complain about Stevie Harrington worrying about them.
She narrows her eyes accusatorily at him when he narcs on her to the paramedics, but then turns around and gives a sweet smile to the woman checking him over. Two can play at that game. ] He probably has glass down his shirt from where the fresnal shattered. You should maybe get him to take it off.
[Tommy bites the inside of his cheek and gives Eddie a look that he's realized by now is gonna roll right off her back. He shouldn't be impressed. He shouldn't preempt the doctor by edging toward the front of his hair and grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
...actually, he probably shouldn't have; Tommy's at a loss as to how to one-up Eddie at this point and the doctor behind him puts a hand on his shoulder as she says you're going to need stitches in at least two spots and Tommy deflates, frowning.]
[ The fact that Tommy glares at her does roll right off her back, Eddie just gives him the most angelic look she can manage — admittedly, not all that angelic, although her big brown eyes do a lot of heavy lifting on that front — before pointedly cooperating with the medic who's giving her a work-over, smiling beatifically like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
Her expression turns a lot more triumphant when Tommy actually scoots forward a little and grabs for his shirt, yanking it up and off in one smooth motion that Eddie shamelessly ogles.
She didn't think he'd actually do it. Her glee is tempered a little by the pronouncement that he actually will need stitches, a little frown creasing her eyebrows even as she follows her medic's finger as he moves it from side to side, his bright-ass pen light shining into her face as he presumably checks her pupils. He gives her a cold pack for her head, rattles off instructions that she could recite in her sleep, and then moves away from her, presumably to assist his colleague.
Eddie drags her chair over to Tommy and sits herself down beside him, shoulder to shoulder again. ]
Nice ink. [ Yes, she is going to sit here with him while he gets stitched up, and no, she's not going to say anything about it. She hates getting stitches. It's the literal worst. She's here to act as moral support. ] I figured from the shirt you were Army, but that's cinched it.
[He's gotten stitches before; not a big deal, but he'll take Eddie any way he can get her. He looks over, damp curls swinging from the mostly defeated tail.] Cliche walking. [Regarding himself, nodding at her.] Ain't got nothing on you, though. So - no concussion. [It's not a question because he's taken a tour of this tent already a time or two in the last months and knows they know what they're doing.
And he knows what the doctor behind him is doing as gloves touch his back. Tommy breathes in, and out. This, is a known. This is steadying. There's no flinching as the sutures go into skin; Tommy's focused on Eddie.] I was a sniper in the Gulf War. Suppose yours are... self-expression?
[There's a curl to the corner of his lips; maybe it's him getting the last jab after all.]
[ Eddie considers whether or not she should bristle playfully at being obliquely called a cliche, but he's not wrong. She is a cliche, and she embraces it. There's nothing wrong with that, not really. She's mellowed out a lot about the concept of selling out and following trends and being authentic over the last few years. As long as you're happy, then that's what's important in her book.
She picks at a hole in her soaking wet jeans. ] Borderline. I'm to take it easy for the next few days. [ Which probably isn't going to happen, as everyone around here knows. Eddie's on stage nearly every night. There's no such thing as taking it easy when you're on tour, not when you're the talent.
Tommy keeps himself perfectly still and breathes with the focused rhythm of Stevie on her worst days, which is what prompts her to shift a little closer so their elbows are touching, a little point of contact he can easily lean into or lean away from, depending on how he's feeling. ]
My uncle served in Vietnam. [ Not the same thing, she knows that, but similar. Enough that she gets it, at least a little. ] And yes. My tattoos express the fact that I'm cool as fuck and have incredible taste.
[ She's obviously joking, her eyes twinkling as she smirks at him, inviting him in to join in the joke. ]
[The lean-in is accepted. Not leaned into or away - it just is. Tommy offers her a full grin for the first time.] Doesn't sound like a brag at all. [And then he winces, with a small mierda under his breath as a piece of glass is pulled from under his skin. He exhales.] Glad I didn't brain you.
[ Damn, that smile is dangerous. Eddie can suddenly see how this man probably cut a swath through the girls of Austin, Texas with a grin like that and curls like those, especially if he was in uniform.
Eddie has a very dim view of the American Military Industrial Complex, and even she's not immune to the power of a well-fitting uniform. ]
They also express that I'm super humble and down to earth.
[ Her little chuckle gets cut short as Tommy winces and swears softly, prompting her to press her arm against his a little more firmly, her brow creasing in sympathy as she keeps her eyes resolutely on his face and not on the blue hands behind him doing whatever it is they're doing. ]
Yeah, I'm pretty glad about that too. [ She shifts, reaching out and covering his hand with hers, slipping her fingers into his palm and squeezing briefly. ] Thank you.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-23 06:50 pm (UTC)She squeezes his arm apologetically before letting him go, wringing her hands together instead, fiddling with the rings she wears and the bracelets that circle her own wrists. ]
I just know better than to say no to Stevie when she's in Mom Mode. [ She lifts her hand to absently touch the back of her head, wincing when her fingers make contact. Yep. That'll definitely be a nice goose egg in no time. ] She's had, like, eight concussions. She doesn't mess around with head injuries.
[ She turns to look at him, squinting a little against the misting rain, and eyes his neck. ] You good?
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Date: 2025-05-23 06:57 pm (UTC)He glances over at Eddie, her hair drooping ringlets from it's pile and mist collecting to slide down her cheeks like tears. Fuck him, she's gorgeous. And he's the idiot who possibly concussed her.] Really am sorry about the way I tackled you. My response times are a little keyed-up.
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Date: 2025-05-23 07:12 pm (UTC)[ Game recognizes game, after all. Eddie's hair has come a long way from the frizzy shag that she wound up sporting most of her school career, and that is in large part to the company she keeps nowadays. Also because she can afford to go get it cut by someone who know what they're doing. That helps a lot. Tommy's curls, even wet and pulled back, look like the kind of thing he takes pride in, and for good reason.
She lets herself weave a little as they walk, swaying into him so she can bump her shoulder against his. ]
Hey. If the choice is getting brained by a fresnal or getting knocked on my ass, I know which one I'm choosing. [ She restrains herself from calling him papi again, even if she desperately wants to. ] Sorry you got all cut-up because of me.
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Date: 2025-05-23 07:45 pm (UTC)Probably would have taken a face-full of glass if I hadn't moved, so. [Tommy shrugs.] Guess we both dodged the short stick. So your drummer... she's a lot. Think I understand the earlier death threats.
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Date: 2025-05-23 07:52 pm (UTC)Which is easier said than done, especially when Tommy brings up Stevie again.
There's a curl of disappointment that springs to life somewhere in her chest, a little resigned sigh that tries to make itself known in the back of her head, but she tries not to focus on that. People have been lusting after Stevie since well before she and Eddie started hanging out. Their first manager had tried to get her to give up drums to play something more audience-facing so they could capitalize on her long, long legs and movie-star hair, but Stevie had refused. She liked being in the back, liked keeping an eye on everyone. ]
Yeah, she's great. [ To her credit, she doesn't even sound bitter. Stevie is great. She's also a total smokeshow, and Eddie can't fault Tommy for noticing. ] Takes looking out for us really seriously. She's like the big sister I never had, except she's a year younger than me.
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Date: 2025-05-23 08:06 pm (UTC)He knows a lot of guys who like women shorter than themselves, but for him there's nothing to mind about Eddie being every inch of his own height. Tommy chides himself for thinking about it at a time like this.]
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Date: 2025-05-23 08:24 pm (UTC)[ She turns a bright grin towards him, her eyes big and warm as she looks him over. There's nothing about this man that screams baby to her, and she lets herself admire him even as they stumble through the mud together. Would she be as blatant about checking him out if she didn't have a possible concussion?
Probably. ]
Brother or sister? Or both?
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Date: 2025-05-23 08:43 pm (UTC)Just one brother. [He doesn't say it with a sigh, but. Tommy's basically ready at all times for what follows, because it always does. Your brother's so good lookin', Tommy. Even though most of the time Joel refuses, because he's still off-and-on again hung up on his ex-wife. Used to be that Tommy didn't mind when the girls came back after Joel turned them down but that phase of his life didn't last through the army. Now he's disappointed, sure, but he's got more self-worth now.] Year and a half older, as Irish as you can get despite. [He shrugs.] The tan.
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Date: 2025-05-23 08:49 pm (UTC)She sways into him a little bit again, just to see if he'll tighten his grip on her. Normally she's not super into men laying their hands on her all willy-nilly and shit, but Tommy's earned a little leeway, what with him having just saved her life and all that. ]
Where you boys from? [ she asks, instead of voicing any comments she might make on the Irishness or lack thereof of his complexion. ] You don't sound like you're from Indiana.
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Date: 2025-05-23 09:09 pm (UTC)Austin. This's our first big major tour; mostly stuck to Texas aside from a poke or two to southern California and circuit around the Four Corners.
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Date: 2025-05-23 09:30 pm (UTC)She's in the process of trying to come up with something to say about how it's a good thing he's not from Indiana, because Indiana is a shithole of a state and she's been trying to get out of it her entire life, when he drops that both he and his brother are on the tour. Finally, enough hints have percolated through her banged-up brain that she's able to grasp at some information she knew she knew that was just out of reach the whole night. ]
Oh! You're, um. You're that duo that replaced what's-their-name. God, they were assholes. The, um, Miller Brothers, right?
[ She's back to grinning at him again, her eyes crinkling a little at the corners. ] I can't believe we've not run into each other yet, I'm so sorry, you must think I'm such a fucking diva I can't even introduce myself to the other acts.
[ She sticks her hand out at him like they're not already acquainted, dimpling at him in the misting rain. ] Welcome to the tour, papi.
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Date: 2025-05-23 09:42 pm (UTC)Tommy opens his mouth once to say the Miller Brothers were assholes? but instead just nods as she goes on and then he opens his mouth to say there's twelve bands here and it's not like we drive together why would I think you're a diva? but instead gets hit smack in the face with papi. Fuckin' papi.
Ignoring the outstretched hand, Tommy faces Eddie and very seriously takes both of her shoulders in hand.] Thanks. Don't call me that.
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Date: 2025-05-23 09:45 pm (UTC)His hands are very warm. ]
Does it really bother you? [ To her credit, despite the laugh tucked in the corner of her mouth, she does seem sincere as she looks at him through spiky lashes and tries to get her expression under control. Her hands lift to circle his wrists, holding onto him right back. ] I'm sorry, I'll stop.
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Date: 2025-05-23 10:00 pm (UTC)Yeah, I'm a Miller brother, no, you're not a diva - that I know of - and it doesn't bother me as much as might embarrass you, papi is... [Tommy lifts a hand from her shoulder to make a broad but absent gesture.] Y'know. Kinda sexual.
[Is he blushing? Of course not. And if he were, well. A tan hides all sins. Right?]
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Date: 2025-05-23 10:08 pm (UTC)The laugh still bubbles up in her voice as she responds, though. ]
Tommy. I know that. [ She grins at him, her eyebrows quirking under her wet bangs. ] I may have failed high school Spanish multiple times in a row, but even I know that papi means daddy.
[ She'd been under the impression that it was slightly less charged in Spanish versus in English, just from pop culture osmosis, but it's not like it was a secret as to what the word meant. She stands by her initial joke, though. One look at Tommy Miller all wet and heroic and she knew she'd picked the right nickname for him. ]
But I really will stop if you don't like it.
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Date: 2025-05-23 10:14 pm (UTC)[He points toward the medical tent.] But go with first-aid, first.
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Date: 2025-05-23 10:19 pm (UTC)His permission makes him beam at him again, and she even goes so far as to wink at him. ]
Ugh, fine. [ She debates for a second being extra obnoxious and trying to use papi again, but decides to let the matter lie. For now. ] But you have to come with me. You're still bleeding, and while it looks very manly and sexy and shit, you probably need stitches. Or at least a butterfly bandage.
[ She ducks out from under his grip but continues to hang on to him so she can tow him into the tent with her, waving at the paramedic who'd clearly been briefed about their arrival based on the look on his face. ] And if either of us walk backstage without getting checked out Stevie's going to blow a gasket for real.
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Date: 2025-05-23 10:45 pm (UTC)[He'd tried to turn, but a slight woman with a terrifying expression on her face steps in front of him and points to a chair, and Tommy sits. He swallows. Wants to ask for something, drugs, maybe, basic prescription shit, but doesn't. Rubs his forehead with fingers while he's examined.] She clocked the back of her head good on the stage, [he mutters at the guy helping Eddie - just so she doesn't get off light.]
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Date: 2025-05-23 11:21 pm (UTC)Most men wouldn't be stupid enough to complain about Stevie Harrington worrying about them.
She narrows her eyes accusatorily at him when he narcs on her to the paramedics, but then turns around and gives a sweet smile to the woman checking him over. Two can play at that game. ] He probably has glass down his shirt from where the fresnal shattered. You should maybe get him to take it off.
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Date: 2025-05-24 12:17 am (UTC)[Tommy bites the inside of his cheek and gives Eddie a look that he's realized by now is gonna roll right off her back. He shouldn't be impressed. He shouldn't preempt the doctor by edging toward the front of his hair and grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
...actually, he probably shouldn't have; Tommy's at a loss as to how to one-up Eddie at this point and the doctor behind him puts a hand on his shoulder as she says you're going to need stitches in at least two spots and Tommy deflates, frowning.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 12:23 am (UTC)Her expression turns a lot more triumphant when Tommy actually scoots forward a little and grabs for his shirt, yanking it up and off in one smooth motion that Eddie shamelessly ogles.
She didn't think he'd actually do it. Her glee is tempered a little by the pronouncement that he actually will need stitches, a little frown creasing her eyebrows even as she follows her medic's finger as he moves it from side to side, his bright-ass pen light shining into her face as he presumably checks her pupils. He gives her a cold pack for her head, rattles off instructions that she could recite in her sleep, and then moves away from her, presumably to assist his colleague.
Eddie drags her chair over to Tommy and sits herself down beside him, shoulder to shoulder again. ]
Nice ink. [ Yes, she is going to sit here with him while he gets stitched up, and no, she's not going to say anything about it. She hates getting stitches. It's the literal worst. She's here to act as moral support. ] I figured from the shirt you were Army, but that's cinched it.
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Date: 2025-05-24 02:00 am (UTC)And he knows what the doctor behind him is doing as gloves touch his back. Tommy breathes in, and out. This, is a known. This is steadying. There's no flinching as the sutures go into skin; Tommy's focused on Eddie.] I was a sniper in the Gulf War. Suppose yours are... self-expression?
[There's a curl to the corner of his lips; maybe it's him getting the last jab after all.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 02:08 am (UTC)She picks at a hole in her soaking wet jeans. ] Borderline. I'm to take it easy for the next few days. [ Which probably isn't going to happen, as everyone around here knows. Eddie's on stage nearly every night. There's no such thing as taking it easy when you're on tour, not when you're the talent.
Tommy keeps himself perfectly still and breathes with the focused rhythm of Stevie on her worst days, which is what prompts her to shift a little closer so their elbows are touching, a little point of contact he can easily lean into or lean away from, depending on how he's feeling. ]
My uncle served in Vietnam. [ Not the same thing, she knows that, but similar. Enough that she gets it, at least a little. ] And yes. My tattoos express the fact that I'm cool as fuck and have incredible taste.
[ She's obviously joking, her eyes twinkling as she smirks at him, inviting him in to join in the joke. ]
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Date: 2025-05-24 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 02:19 am (UTC)Eddie has a very dim view of the American Military Industrial Complex, and even she's not immune to the power of a well-fitting uniform. ]
They also express that I'm super humble and down to earth.
[ Her little chuckle gets cut short as Tommy winces and swears softly, prompting her to press her arm against his a little more firmly, her brow creasing in sympathy as she keeps her eyes resolutely on his face and not on the blue hands behind him doing whatever it is they're doing. ]
Yeah, I'm pretty glad about that too. [ She shifts, reaching out and covering his hand with hers, slipping her fingers into his palm and squeezing briefly. ] Thank you.
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