She seems... helpful. [He's not sure what else to say about Eddie's drummer, good hell. Is the third member of their crew just as insane as the other two? Tommy stares at the door that was slammed closed behind Stevie for a moment before dropping his eyes at what Eddie's holding and
He really hopes that his messy hair hides the way the tips of his own ears go a little red.] Hey I don't - listen, this isn't something I would normally... I mean. [Tommy rubs a hand over his face and considers the merits of backing away slowly until he's out of sight. He knows they're both consenting adults but getting condoms chucked at you like a teenager will have you reconsidering and the fact that he's been crushing on her since that first show two months ago that he stumbled across doesn't help none.] I didn't tag along expecting anything is all I'm trying to say.
[ She's still contemplating murdering her, though, if only because Stevie might be able to bring a guy home — back to her hotel room, whatever — and be cool about it, but Eddie doesn't exactly have her same womanly wizard powers, so having Stevie show up to cockblock her really isn't helping.
Oh well. No way out but through, and all that. Eddie just prays her face isn't too terribly red. She's supposed to be a cool and worldly rockstar and shit, and the combination of Stevie giving her condoms and a guy she'd definitely let pin her down to the ground in a way more fun way than they've managed before is making her feel like she's back in high school. Not that she ever ran into a situation like this in high school. ] Relax. [ She shoves the condoms into his chest so that she can get her key out of her wet jeans. ] We can just smoke up.
[ She shoves her door open and leads the way in, knowing there's no chance she can do a frantic tidy-up and desperately wishing she could, anyway. She makes an immediate beeline to her suitcase so she can rummage through it and pull out a pair of sweats. ] You want?
Inside the room, Tommy tosses the box onto the nearest flat surface and looks around. Eddie's room looks more like Joel's, where various objects are being used as clothes hangers and last night's take out is still on the table. His own room, in contrast, looks like it's ready for the next guests - complete with hospital corners on the bed.
He turns at her offer.] I ain't gonna fit in your pants. [But he has noticed that his own are... damp. Wet. He'd maybe say soaked but they're not dripping, just clinging to his thighs and calves and are much less comfortable than they were while he was actively working and not, well, doing whatever this is.]
[ Her room is... okay, it's not great, but it's fine. You can see the floor, and both beds are serviceably tidy. He's right about the clothes, though. Eddie unpacks by apparently dropping a bomb in her suitcase, which leaves articles of clothing draped over nearly every surface. It makes it easier for her to find things!
She makes a point to look him over when he turns down her offer, her eyes lingering on his damp jeans, but she just tilts her head in an accepting kind of nod before returning to her luggage to grab herself a shirt. ]
Well, I'm gonna change. You know how to pack this or do you want some pre-rolls?
[ This being the pipe she pulled out from a pocket somewhere, along with a little baggy. ]
[At that, Tommy laughs. He reaches out to take the offered pipe and bud.] Yeah, I know how to pack this. [And does, while Eddie changes in the bathroom. He's not gonna smoke without her - her stash her start, and he likes to think he's enough of a gentleman - but he gets everything ready.
When your dad's a hard-ass cop, there's something in a kid that wants to rail against it. Tommy did for a long time. Funny, considering that he ended up in the Army - or maybe not, guess it depends on how you look at it. Either way, he's never lost the skills that he picked up trying to dissociate as a teenager.] How long y'all been playing together? [he asks through the door as he sits at the desk in Eddie's room, pulling his pocketknife from his pocket. Flipping it open he cleans the bowl of the pipe with a few shallow strokes of the blade.]
[ She decides against the sweats and leaves them draped over the luggage rack, choosing instead a pair of shorts that might have been Stevie's at one point and a well-loved Iron Maiden tee with holes in the seams that she refuses to get rid of no matter how much cajoling she gets about it.
Retreating to the bathroom, she leaves the door cracked a little so she can still hear him as she whips off her wet clothes and leaves them in a heap on the floor while she changes. ]
We all went to high school together, [ she calls through the crack, ripping her bra off with a relieved sigh and adding it to the pile. She uses a wash cloth to clean her face as she continues, wiping away the old sweat and smeared makeup and splatters of dirt that have made a home on her skin. ] But the Dead Girls didn't start until well after graduation. I was playing with a different band in school, buncha guys, but that all fell apart and we went our separate ways, you know how it is.
[ Jeff went to college, Gareth got a job working for the Post Office, and Freik enlisted. She's only sort of kept in touch with them all, not because she doesn't care, but because they all got busy with their own lives. ]
[He does. He and Joel learned guitar together, more or less, but then in high school Joel played house with Jessie while Tommy played music with anyone he could find. Lots of guys in garages, taking breaks for football practice, trying to impress girls on and off the field. Who knows where those guys are now? Not Tommy.] That's kinda cool, though. Weird how things turn out.
[He separates the buds and packs the pipe with a methodical sort of focus, realizing while doing it that his nerves are settled, have been settled for a while. Huh.]
[ Eventually, Eddie emerges from the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel, her face pink and clean, dwarfed in her t-shirt with her legs almost completely bare. She's still wearing all her jewelry, and there's the tattoos, of course, but she looks far more approachable than she does when she's up on stage, much closer to her actual age and the fact that she's really just a small-town Midwesterner who managed to get lucky.
She clambers up onto the end of one of the beds, crossing her legs, so she can watch Tommy pack the pipe. ]
Yeah. Not how I expected they'd go, but. Here we are. [ When the three of them were all lying in their hospital beds, convalescing as best they could, clinging to each other to make it through the nightmares, she knows they weren't dreaming of a life like this. ] I'll introduce you to Chrissy, later. She's sweet as pie, you'll like her.
And he covers it up like shit, too, jerking his attention back to what he was doing and nearly spilling the whole thing. She liked his ink? Her goddamn legs. And honestly he'd have never in life would have said that he'd find a woman covered in tattoos attractive but here they are; here she is, looking both fresh and wild, and here he is, struck mute by it. Tommy finishes packing the weed and finally, feeling a little more composed, turns to offer it to Eddie across the gap between desk chair and bed. He sits back.] Really? I can't image anyone sweet lasting five minutes stuck between you and Stevie.
For a moment, just a half a second or so, the part of her that's convinced anyone who comes up to talk to her at a party is just angling for an introduction to Stevie rears its head and she wants to falter, but then she clocks how he fumbles the pipe in his hands, the intense focus on his face that even she can tell is forced, and she settles into pleased territory instead. ]
Oh, she's got us both wrapped around her little finger. [ Eddie accepts the pipe and then has to twist around and lean back to reach for her lighter, her legs unfolding to counterbalance for a moment before she's back upright again. She flicks it on and sets it to the bowl. ] She'll get you too, just you wait.
[ She takes a pull, flicking the lighter on again to make sure the embers take, and holds the smoke in her lungs for a long moment as she leans across the divide between them to pass the pipe back. ]
Uh-huh. [Tommy doesn't ogle Eddie's legs when they're stretched out as she reaches for a lighter, but it's a near thing. He sparks the lighter and takes a deep pull, muscles not recently used but more than remembering a half-lifetime of habit. His eyelids fall as he exhales long and clean around his brother's name:] Joel. [The pipe is passed back.] Joel Corbin Balmaceda Miller.
[Tommy grins and sinks into the back of his chair; he can feel the weed already. He rolls his head toward Eddie, belatedly aware that he said "Ho-elle".] Joel. [Like Joe. With an 'L'. Like the pronunciation that his brother insisted on ever since turning fifteen.]
[ Eddie hadn't been worried that a grown-ass man, and a musician nonetheless, wouldn't know how to handle a pipe, but watching Tommy assuages any niggling fears she may have had; he knows what he's doing, and he looks good doing it too, and she lets herself admire him in his too-tight merch shirt as he takes a deep pull, his ribs expanding and just drawing her attention to the shape of his chest muscles beneath the cotton. ]
Oh, wow. Full government name and everything. [ There's a softer lilt to his voice when he speaks in Spanish, even just the few syllables of his brother's name, and Eddie can count on one hand the number of Spanish words she knows, but she decides here and now that she'll get a fucking Pimsleur book on tape if she has to, because she wants to hear him say that again.
Well. Maybe not his brother's name, specifically, but Spanish stuff in general.
She leans forward to take the pipe from him, her fingertips brushing against his palm. ] What's your full name, then?
[He is. It's been awhile but despite that, with the drift he already has going he'd put bets on this being good shit. His palm lights up slowly in the wake of Eddie's fingertips. Tommy grins. Slowly. There's a lot of Spanish speakers in Texas but not A Lot and Tommy might be already a little high but he knows what it looks like when a chica likes his accent.
He leans in, in all ways.] Tomás Antonio Gabriel Miller.
He's right. Eddie does only carry the good shit now that she can afford to, now that she's not peddling cheap grass to clueless teenagers, but she self-medicates frequently enough that she forgets that someone else may not have the same tolerance to it that she does.
All three of them smoke up regularly, actually. Stevie, to cope with her migraines; Chrissy, to cope with her chronic pain; and Eddie, to cope with life in general. All three of them use it to cope with the nightmares. It takes more than a few puffs for her to start feeling it, but what she is feeling is hopelessly charmed as she watches Tommy relax.
She smiles at him, wide and bright, as he really draws out the accent when he replies. ]
Tomás, hm? [ To her credit, her imitation isn't bad. Eddie has an ear for music, after all. ] That's way better than mine.
Tease. [Tommy winks. At least he knows he's already half-way to stoned - he won't take another hit until he settles into the first. Tommy walks a fine edge of self-control; he's let it run long, pulled the tether short and tight... so now he knows how to tread right down the middle.] C'mon, then. ¿Cómo te llamas?
[ If possible, her grin just gets wider when he winks at her, and she wrinkles her nose to help combat the pink she knows is starting to stain her face.
What? He's hot, okay, and he's looking at her like that, and she still hasn't forgotten the condoms from earlier. ]
You don't think my parents named me Eddie for real?
[ She stalls for time by taking another hit off the pipe, sitting up straight so she can get a good lungful, all that singing talent being made even more obvious by how much she can expand her ribcage to get even more smoke and tar into her lungs.
After a long beat, she opens her mouth to let the smoke curl free. ] It's Edith, [ she says, shaking her head. ] Edith Dawn.
And then Eddie takes in a wide lungful and the shape of piercings stand out proud and obvious from small, perky tits and Tommy's fucked. He's so fucked.
His mouth is dry and he doesn't know if it's the weed or arousal but luckily he's high enough that his dick doesn't try to leap into action. Tommy finds himself staring at some nothing-hotel art on the wall. He blinks, tries not to remember the sight of Eddie's chest, and looks back at her. Keep to her face, Tomás.] Dida. [Tommy nods, because her name works, it makes sense.]
[ Eddie's starting to feel the edges of a buzz, the dull background throbbing of her headache melting away, and she winds up leaning back against one hand, cocking her head to one side until she remembers the heavy towel wrapped around her hair. She has to sit up a little straighter to pull the damn thing off, squeezing the ends for good measure before tossing the whole thing aside in the vague direction of the bathroom. It leaves her hair hanging loose in wet tendrils, but she just rakes them all out of her face with her fingers before turning her attention back to him. ]
What's that? [ she asks, picking up the pipe again and holding it out to him in a silent question. ]
[Tommy's attention is a waterfall, following her towel, the drape of her dark hair as it falls loose, the pull of her fingers. He blinks and then shakes his head at the offered pipe even though he wants to say yes. Next time.] Dida. Your name. Edith Dawn. Dida is what... [He inhales, and exhales.]
My family, or. Spanish. Kinda. Like, I probably shoulda been Tomi, but because my mother always called me Thomas Antonio, instead of Tomi she called me Toto. So Edith Dawn, you'd be Dida. Because Edith Dawn, it's too nice to not say the whole thing. So the nickname's from both. [Obvious. Obviously. Tommy grins, feels the stretch of his face and laughs.]
[ She's a little relieved when Tommy declines taking the pipe, especially when he starts talking.
Which isn't to say she doesn't think the explanation is incredibly cute, especially since it's apparently the same math his mom did to make his childhood nickname, but she's pretty sure he would never have told her that information if he'd been in his right mind, so maybe it's a good idea that he's pacing himself.
Not that he didn't know what he was getting into when he followed her up here. She had been pretty clear about her intentions. ]
That's really sweet. [ His eyes crinkle adorably when he grins at her that wide, little crow's feet streaking out across his temples. Eddie remembers his freckles, wishes she was a little closer so she could admire them properly. She takes a hit off the pipe mostly to keep her mouth occupied so she doesn't say something stupid, even though she knows Tommy's in no state to hold that against her right now. ] We're like bookends. We match. Toto and Dida.
Toto and Dida. [Jobi, Toto! That had been the call that wound through his childhood. But he likes this version. He likes her. Tommy leans over the back of his chair with a stretch, the hem of the too-small shirt riding up before he winces at the pressure against his back and laughs, tilting to the side, catching himself on the edge of the bed.] It's a good name, [he repeats.] A pretty name.
[ If he's going to put himself on display like that, of course she's going to look. Especially when the hem of his shirt rides up his belly a little. She kind of wants to bite him. In the medic's tent, she'd been too distracted by the whole "potential concussion, definite glass cuts" thing to really properly ogle him when he was shirtless, but now she's starting to feel good.
She'd feel better if she'd have also taken a hot shower, but hey, she's warm and dry now, so it's fine.
Poor Tommy is still in those wet jeans. She kind of wants to offer him her sweats again. (There's a part of her that wants to ask him to just take them off entirely and leave it at that, but she's pushing that part of her aside. For now. As much as possible, at least.)
It's so obviously a line, and it's so obnoxious that it's working on her. ] I bet you say that to all the girls, [ she counters, wrinkling her nose at him again as she holds out the pipe one more time. ]
[The pipe is taken, but held instead of pulling on. Tommy looks up at her with dark eyes, a little darker from the weed. He smiles, shakes his head.] Never met another Dida. And.
[He waves the insinuation away with his free hand before crossing his arms on the bed. The position pulls on the stitches but his nerves are pleasantly cosseted and for the moment he doesn't move.] Not a lot of girls. Got... [Control issues. He tongues the words in his mouth.] You know. Catholic upbringing. We're good boys. [Didn't hurt, anyway, having his role model end up in wedded not-bliss when he got his high school sweetheart knocked up. Without real thought, Tommy's eyes track to the box of condoms he'd thrown down on the dresser across the room.]
[ She's not surprised he's never met another girl like her. Eddie is, whether fortunate or not, a one-of-a-kind kind of woman, even she knows that.
She firmly tells the smug little demon in the back of her mind to shut the hell up and stop crowing over the fact that it kind of sounds like Tommy's not the type of man to go out and pick up girls at bars (or music festivals) to fuck and then immediately forget. That's irrelevant.
It gets a little bit harder not to think about it when he bends closer, propping up his elbows on the bed beside her crossed knees. Her hand automatically finds its way to his shoulders without any conscious direction from her brain, and she finds herself carefully tracing the edges of his bandages through his shirt. ]
You know, when I was in high school, my shitty hometown was all convinced I was the leader of some kind of demonic cult hell-bent on seducing their corn-fed Indiana babies away from the light of the Lord? [ She gives him a crooked smile, twirling the end of one curl from his ponytail around her fingertip. ] A good Catholic boy like you oughta keep his distance.
Think I read something like that. [An admission he wouldn't make, sober; giving up the fact that he's looked into her like some groupie, pulling up search results on the internet. He hadn't done a lot of poking, but the wide web of fans give up their thoughts pretty easily. He's still here. He still thinks she's beautiful.
Tommy's head rocks forward, hanging slightly in response to the touch of Eddie's fingers on him.] Some might think so but I've seen enough that I can't really believe in that anymore. But maybe I want to, because you sing like someone pulled you off a cloud. Like maybe it all really exists if you can sing like you do.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 07:24 pm (UTC)He really hopes that his messy hair hides the way the tips of his own ears go a little red.] Hey I don't - listen, this isn't something I would normally... I mean. [Tommy rubs a hand over his face and considers the merits of backing away slowly until he's out of sight. He knows they're both consenting adults but getting condoms chucked at you like a teenager will have you reconsidering and the fact that he's been crushing on her since that first show two months ago that he stumbled across doesn't help none.] I didn't tag along expecting anything is all I'm trying to say.
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Date: 2025-05-24 07:38 pm (UTC)[ She's still contemplating murdering her, though, if only because Stevie might be able to bring a guy home — back to her hotel room, whatever — and be cool about it, but Eddie doesn't exactly have her same womanly wizard powers, so having Stevie show up to cockblock her really isn't helping.
Oh well. No way out but through, and all that. Eddie just prays her face isn't too terribly red. She's supposed to be a cool and worldly rockstar and shit, and the combination of Stevie giving her condoms and a guy she'd definitely let pin her down to the ground in a way more fun way than they've managed before is making her feel like she's back in high school. Not that she ever ran into a situation like this in high school. ] Relax. [ She shoves the condoms into his chest so that she can get her key out of her wet jeans. ] We can just smoke up.
[ She shoves her door open and leads the way in, knowing there's no chance she can do a frantic tidy-up and desperately wishing she could, anyway. She makes an immediate beeline to her suitcase so she can rummage through it and pull out a pair of sweats. ] You want?
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Date: 2025-05-24 08:31 pm (UTC)Inside the room, Tommy tosses the box onto the nearest flat surface and looks around. Eddie's room looks more like Joel's, where various objects are being used as clothes hangers and last night's take out is still on the table. His own room, in contrast, looks like it's ready for the next guests - complete with hospital corners on the bed.
He turns at her offer.] I ain't gonna fit in your pants. [But he has noticed that his own are... damp. Wet. He'd maybe say soaked but they're not dripping, just clinging to his thighs and calves and are much less comfortable than they were while he was actively working and not, well, doing whatever this is.]
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Date: 2025-05-24 08:41 pm (UTC)She makes a point to look him over when he turns down her offer, her eyes lingering on his damp jeans, but she just tilts her head in an accepting kind of nod before returning to her luggage to grab herself a shirt. ]
Well, I'm gonna change. You know how to pack this or do you want some pre-rolls?
[ This being the pipe she pulled out from a pocket somewhere, along with a little baggy. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 09:21 pm (UTC)When your dad's a hard-ass cop, there's something in a kid that wants to rail against it. Tommy did for a long time. Funny, considering that he ended up in the Army - or maybe not, guess it depends on how you look at it. Either way, he's never lost the skills that he picked up trying to dissociate as a teenager.] How long y'all been playing together? [he asks through the door as he sits at the desk in Eddie's room, pulling his pocketknife from his pocket. Flipping it open he cleans the bowl of the pipe with a few shallow strokes of the blade.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 09:29 pm (UTC)[ She decides against the sweats and leaves them draped over the luggage rack, choosing instead a pair of shorts that might have been Stevie's at one point and a well-loved Iron Maiden tee with holes in the seams that she refuses to get rid of no matter how much cajoling she gets about it.
Retreating to the bathroom, she leaves the door cracked a little so she can still hear him as she whips off her wet clothes and leaves them in a heap on the floor while she changes. ]
We all went to high school together, [ she calls through the crack, ripping her bra off with a relieved sigh and adding it to the pile. She uses a wash cloth to clean her face as she continues, wiping away the old sweat and smeared makeup and splatters of dirt that have made a home on her skin. ] But the Dead Girls didn't start until well after graduation. I was playing with a different band in school, buncha guys, but that all fell apart and we went our separate ways, you know how it is.
[ Jeff went to college, Gareth got a job working for the Post Office, and Freik enlisted. She's only sort of kept in touch with them all, not because she doesn't care, but because they all got busy with their own lives. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 09:59 pm (UTC)[He separates the buds and packs the pipe with a methodical sort of focus, realizing while doing it that his nerves are settled, have been settled for a while. Huh.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 10:14 pm (UTC)She clambers up onto the end of one of the beds, crossing her legs, so she can watch Tommy pack the pipe. ]
Yeah. Not how I expected they'd go, but. Here we are. [ When the three of them were all lying in their hospital beds, convalescing as best they could, clinging to each other to make it through the nightmares, she knows they weren't dreaming of a life like this. ] I'll introduce you to Chrissy, later. She's sweet as pie, you'll like her.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 11:07 pm (UTC)He does.
And he covers it up like shit, too, jerking his attention back to what he was doing and nearly spilling the whole thing. She liked his ink? Her goddamn legs. And honestly he'd have never in life would have said that he'd find a woman covered in tattoos attractive but here they are; here she is, looking both fresh and wild, and here he is, struck mute by it. Tommy finishes packing the weed and finally, feeling a little more composed, turns to offer it to Eddie across the gap between desk chair and bed. He sits back.] Really? I can't image anyone sweet lasting five minutes stuck between you and Stevie.
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Date: 2025-05-24 11:15 pm (UTC)For a moment, just a half a second or so, the part of her that's convinced anyone who comes up to talk to her at a party is just angling for an introduction to Stevie rears its head and she wants to falter, but then she clocks how he fumbles the pipe in his hands, the intense focus on his face that even she can tell is forced, and she settles into pleased territory instead. ]
Oh, she's got us both wrapped around her little finger. [ Eddie accepts the pipe and then has to twist around and lean back to reach for her lighter, her legs unfolding to counterbalance for a moment before she's back upright again. She flicks it on and sets it to the bowl. ] She'll get you too, just you wait.
[ She takes a pull, flicking the lighter on again to make sure the embers take, and holds the smoke in her lungs for a long moment as she leans across the divide between them to pass the pipe back. ]
What's your brother's name?
no subject
Date: 2025-05-24 11:57 pm (UTC)[Tommy grins and sinks into the back of his chair; he can feel the weed already. He rolls his head toward Eddie, belatedly aware that he said "Ho-elle".] Joel. [Like Joe. With an 'L'. Like the pronunciation that his brother insisted on ever since turning fifteen.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:19 am (UTC)Oh, wow. Full government name and everything. [ There's a softer lilt to his voice when he speaks in Spanish, even just the few syllables of his brother's name, and Eddie can count on one hand the number of Spanish words she knows, but she decides here and now that she'll get a fucking Pimsleur book on tape if she has to, because she wants to hear him say that again.
Well. Maybe not his brother's name, specifically, but Spanish stuff in general.
She leans forward to take the pipe from him, her fingertips brushing against his palm. ] What's your full name, then?
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:30 am (UTC)He leans in, in all ways.] Tomás Antonio Gabriel Miller.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:36 am (UTC)He's right. Eddie does only carry the good shit now that she can afford to, now that she's not peddling cheap grass to clueless teenagers, but she self-medicates frequently enough that she forgets that someone else may not have the same tolerance to it that she does.
All three of them smoke up regularly, actually. Stevie, to cope with her migraines; Chrissy, to cope with her chronic pain; and Eddie, to cope with life in general. All three of them use it to cope with the nightmares. It takes more than a few puffs for her to start feeling it, but what she is feeling is hopelessly charmed as she watches Tommy relax.
She smiles at him, wide and bright, as he really draws out the accent when he replies. ]
Tomás, hm? [ To her credit, her imitation isn't bad. Eddie has an ear for music, after all. ] That's way better than mine.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 12:45 am (UTC)What? He's hot, okay, and he's looking at her like that, and she still hasn't forgotten the condoms from earlier. ]
You don't think my parents named me Eddie for real?
[ She stalls for time by taking another hit off the pipe, sitting up straight so she can get a good lungful, all that singing talent being made even more obvious by how much she can expand her ribcage to get even more smoke and tar into her lungs.
After a long beat, she opens her mouth to let the smoke curl free. ] It's Edith, [ she says, shaking her head. ] Edith Dawn.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:04 am (UTC)And then Eddie takes in a wide lungful and the shape of piercings stand out proud and obvious from small, perky tits and Tommy's fucked. He's so fucked.
His mouth is dry and he doesn't know if it's the weed or arousal but luckily he's high enough that his dick doesn't try to leap into action. Tommy finds himself staring at some nothing-hotel art on the wall. He blinks, tries not to remember the sight of Eddie's chest, and looks back at her. Keep to her face, Tomás.] Dida. [Tommy nods, because her name works, it makes sense.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:09 am (UTC)What's that? [ she asks, picking up the pipe again and holding it out to him in a silent question. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:33 am (UTC)My family, or. Spanish. Kinda. Like, I probably shoulda been Tomi, but because my mother always called me Thomas Antonio, instead of Tomi she called me Toto. So Edith Dawn, you'd be Dida. Because Edith Dawn, it's too nice to not say the whole thing. So the nickname's from both. [Obvious. Obviously. Tommy grins, feels the stretch of his face and laughs.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:38 am (UTC)Which isn't to say she doesn't think the explanation is incredibly cute, especially since it's apparently the same math his mom did to make his childhood nickname, but she's pretty sure he would never have told her that information if he'd been in his right mind, so maybe it's a good idea that he's pacing himself.
Not that he didn't know what he was getting into when he followed her up here. She had been pretty clear about her intentions. ]
That's really sweet. [ His eyes crinkle adorably when he grins at her that wide, little crow's feet streaking out across his temples. Eddie remembers his freckles, wishes she was a little closer so she could admire them properly. She takes a hit off the pipe mostly to keep her mouth occupied so she doesn't say something stupid, even though she knows Tommy's in no state to hold that against her right now. ] We're like bookends. We match. Toto and Dida.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:48 am (UTC)Fits you.
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 01:53 am (UTC)She'd feel better if she'd have also taken a hot shower, but hey, she's warm and dry now, so it's fine.
Poor Tommy is still in those wet jeans. She kind of wants to offer him her sweats again. (There's a part of her that wants to ask him to just take them off entirely and leave it at that, but she's pushing that part of her aside. For now. As much as possible, at least.)
It's so obviously a line, and it's so obnoxious that it's working on her. ] I bet you say that to all the girls, [ she counters, wrinkling her nose at him again as she holds out the pipe one more time. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:02 am (UTC)[He waves the insinuation away with his free hand before crossing his arms on the bed. The position pulls on the stitches but his nerves are pleasantly cosseted and for the moment he doesn't move.] Not a lot of girls. Got... [Control issues. He tongues the words in his mouth.] You know. Catholic upbringing. We're good boys. [Didn't hurt, anyway, having his role model end up in wedded not-bliss when he got his high school sweetheart knocked up. Without real thought, Tommy's eyes track to the box of condoms he'd thrown down on the dresser across the room.]
no subject
Date: 2025-05-25 02:10 am (UTC)She firmly tells the smug little demon in the back of her mind to shut the hell up and stop crowing over the fact that it kind of sounds like Tommy's not the type of man to go out and pick up girls at bars (or music festivals) to fuck and then immediately forget. That's irrelevant.
It gets a little bit harder not to think about it when he bends closer, propping up his elbows on the bed beside her crossed knees. Her hand automatically finds its way to his shoulders without any conscious direction from her brain, and she finds herself carefully tracing the edges of his bandages through his shirt. ]
You know, when I was in high school, my shitty hometown was all convinced I was the leader of some kind of demonic cult hell-bent on seducing their corn-fed Indiana babies away from the light of the Lord? [ She gives him a crooked smile, twirling the end of one curl from his ponytail around her fingertip. ] A good Catholic boy like you oughta keep his distance.
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Date: 2025-05-25 02:22 am (UTC)Tommy's head rocks forward, hanging slightly in response to the touch of Eddie's fingers on him.] Some might think so but I've seen enough that I can't really believe in that anymore. But maybe I want to, because you sing like someone pulled you off a cloud. Like maybe it all really exists if you can sing like you do.
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