"You've ever been in a room and knew someone else was everybody else's favorite person, but you knew that you were that person's favorite? It made it a bit more bearable."

Eddie knew that feeling all too well.

"Like, it's fine, because the person shining the brightest thinks you shine just as brightly."

He felt it every time Willow Jenkins looked at him.

Willow had fallen asleep a while ago. But sleep was avoiding Eddie, depriving him of his own sweet relaxation like the one that spreads over her face. He tries to not toss and turn too much in the bed beside her, a predicament that she had insisted upon and he had been too soft for her to fight it.

Too soft . That was putting it lightly. He was crushed velvet for the girl resting peacefully at his side, complete putty in her hands. And he's convinced that she has no idea of her effect on him. She has no idea of the power she holds over him.

"Willow, I lo-"

He had almost told her. He had almost confessed to her, laid his cards out on the table and admitted the absolute chokehold she had on his emotions. He had been convinced that the last month of casual touches, fleeting kisses, and heavy play-pretend would diminish the feelings growing for her in his chest. But it had only watered the garden - a garden in which a flower bloomed every time she smiled at him, in which the vines had a death grip on his lungs every time she entered the room. It was beautiful, it was suffocating, it was all-consuming.

But it wasn't the right time. Not with all the heavy emotions in the air. He doesn't think there's ever going to be a perfect time to admit his catastrophic feelings for her, but he knows it isn't tonight. Not after all that she's admitted to him, not after she's taken her trust in one hand and her heart in the other and handed both over to him without hesitation.

He's angry. Not at her, but for her. He's angry at a Universe that could ever bring such tragedy into the life of the golden girl beside him. She deserves so much more , more than he could ever put into words. And he knows for a fact that she didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that .

If given the chance, he doesn't know who he would swing his fists in the direction of first; her brother, who had unfairly become consumed by unfavorably addictions out of his control? Her brother's dealer, who had pushed far too much responsibility off onto a child ? Her father, who had unfairly blamed his remaining child for a situation out of her control?

Eddie doesn't know. All he knows is that his knuckles ache from how tightly he's held the fists at his side.

He had once told her that she was his 'guard dog', that essentially she was his protector, and everyone had agreed. She had lived up to the status this last month, staying fiercely by his side and sending looks to kill towards anyone who so much as even thought about being crude or snide towards Eddie. He watched her grow from a measly wallflower to a fire being breathed into her, the confidence to command a room right at her fingertips. The cheerleaders knew better, the jocks knew better, Jason fucking Carver knew better. She hadn't even had to spill blood to prove her point to the rest of the school - everyone knew better than to mess with Eddie now that he had someone willing to fight for him. And Willow would fight for him, bravely so, even if he wasn't sure if she'd ever even thrown a punch in her life. He's pretty sure the closest she's gotten to a physical altercation had been the day she'd thrown Jason's shoulder out with her backpack.

Rumor had it that his shoulder was still sore and tender. Even if it wasn't true, Eddie didn't want to ever be on the receiving end of that kind of anger from Willow.

But for all her anger, for all the ways she cared so fiercely for those close to her, Eddie knew she needed someone to reciprocate the energy. Tonight proved it to him. She needed someone on her side of the battle just as badly as Eddie had, and he could spend the next lifetime proving he was willing to fill that spot. The anger born out of protectiveness was a familiar feeling, one he had felt once before for the girl. One he had nearly shed blood due to the Monday after the party in which Steve Harrington had proven to be a massive fuck up.

"I'm ditching today," he announced to Willow as they pulled up to the school, him having still been determined to give her a ride despite his plans for the day.

"What?" she questioned, face scrunching up adorably. It almost made him want to say to Hell with his plan, to stay and bug her throughout their classes, selfishly drink in any time and attention he could steal from her. But it also fueled him in his goal,"Why? Eddie, we've been over this-"

"I know, but there's this new album that just came out, and the only store that has it is a town over," he forced a sheepish grin, feeling pathetic in his lie. She would probably see right through his excuse, see through his cellophane bullshit and call him out on it-

"Really?" she sighed, cutting off his racing thoughts. He hated the look of disappointment that crossed her face, the careful consideration she goes through before finally caving without a fight, "Okay. Okay, fine. But you better show me the album after school, Munson. I'm talking about a whole event of it - you better bring snacks, drinks, I'm talking your whole A game."

She believed him. It killed him, but she believed him.

"Of course, sweetheart. What is this, amateur hour?"

He should have expected it - this behavior wasn't out of character for him, and she hadn't been up for many fights since Friday night. She had been trying to carry on as if nothing was wrong, but Eddie knew her better than that. He could see the fight with Steve was weighing on her shoulders, crushing her spirits behind closed doors.

It was exactly why he was going to do what he was that day.

"Do you want me to take an extra set of notes for O'Donnell and Edwards?" she asked him as she reached down for her backpack. Students flooded into the school, and he knew she was cutting it close. That had been partially his fault, running a bit late. It was a bad habit he was trying to cleanse himself of for her.

He smiled, watching her hand grip the handle on his door but making no move to swing it open, "If you would be ever so kind, angel."

He suddenly jumped out of his parked van, and she looked confused as he jogged around the front of it before opening the door for her before she could.

"What-"

"Just being a gentleman."

And get in your good graces before I piss you off with what I intend to do today.

She hopped out of the van with a hand held in Eddie's, biting back her own grin, "Yeah? I think you're just being a show off."

"Eh, more like I'm just showing off my girl. I'll see you after school, yeah?"

My girl . He wished it was true. He wished she was actually his as he was hers.

He brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles dramatically, making a spectacle of it. She eventually ripped her hand away, blushing profusely.

"Alright, alright. I think you just got slobber all over me, idiot," she taunted him gently, a soft smile gracing her lips, "I'll see you after school."

He waited until she disappeared through the double doors, clearly attempting to fade into the crowd but still standing out painfully to his faze, before he left the parking lot.

He had one destination in mind - Family Video.

It took all of ten minutes to arrive, and Steve's BMW is in the parking lot, just as he had hoped.

The store wouldn't open for another hour, and Steve had clearly just arrived, barely crawling out of his car. Even from a distance, Eddie saw a physical change in Steve; his cockiness was gone, a faded image as his shoulder slumped pathetically and dark circles had manifested below his eyes. He looked worse for wear, and for a moment, Eddie reconsidered. But then the image of Willow, looking just as haunted, sobbing on the side of the road reentered his mind.

He was glad Steve was suffering. He deserved it.

"Harrington!" he barked the moment he had climbed out of his own van from across the parking lot, making Steve's head snap in his direction. He took a second to process who it was before the realization washed over him.

Eddie honestly didn't have much of a plan. He just sort of wanted to break the pretty boy's face, a strange and violent urge he'd never encountered before. But he'd spent the weekend with a heartbroken Willow, and it had left him with a fury like no other.

"Munson?" Steve questioned, eyes widening and back straightening as Eddie took long strides in his direction. He knew what a man on a mission looked like, and seeing Eddie so determined was a bit terrifying, "What are you-"

"What the fuck is your problem?" Eddie closed the gap between them with ease, hands shoving Steve's shoulders roughly, causing him to tumble back into the side of his car. He didn't stop there, caging him in and narrowing his eyes, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Steve's eyes had been lifeless as he replied in a monotone, "I think I'm Steve Harrington, Family Video employ-"

"I knew you were a goddamn idiot, Harrington, but to do that to her? After giving me the fucking lecture? What was it you told me?" Eddie mockingly paused, tilting his head as if in deep thought before continuing on in his rage, "' That girl deserves the world' , that's what you said. So what part of Friday night was she deserving of? Making out with some other girl in front of her? Starting a fight over petty shit? Please, enlighten me, pretty boy."

Eddie's hands had moved to grip the collar of Steve's work shirt. He watched the pain light up in Steve's eyes as he recognized his own words echoed back to him.

"You don't understand-"

"No, you're right, I don't understand. I don't understand how you could just- how you could do that to her . Of all the people you could choose to hurt, you chose her ," Eddie's voice cracked, his grip continuing to tighten.

He couldn't understand it. He'd tried, really tried to see Steve's point of view in the entire scenario, but had continuously come up empty-handed. He couldn't fathom it - he knew Steve wasn't an idiot. Willow may be oblivious, but Eddie wasn't. He knew that Steve cared for her the same way he did. And Eddie couldn't stomach the thought of ever hurting her that way, of ever stooping so low and firing off words aimed to kill.

You don't kiss other girls in front of the girl you're in love with. You don't let the girl you're infatuated with walk home alone, drunk and crying. Eddie Munson may be a fuck up, but even he knew better.

"I know," Steve pathetically responded, "I know. I was a fucking dick. I was a goddamn fool. I knew exactly what to say to break her, Munson, and so I did. I said what I did to hurt her."

Eddie's eyes were flaming, being pushed to the edge of his anger. The urge to break Steve's nose only grew.

And Steve saw it, continuing to egg him on, "I wanted to hit her where it hurts. Make her hurt like I'm hurting."

One of Eddie's hands fell to his side, forming a fist as he adjusted his grip on Steve's shirt, shoving him harder into the metal behind him.

"I wanted to break the two of you up. Make her as miserable as I am."

Eddie pulled back his fist as Steve said it, but his arm was frozen as he looked into Steve's face.

Something clicked.

Steve Harrington was an asshole. Or at least, he had been, for a majority of his high school career. But if he was still that asshole, Robin Buckley wouldn't be his friend. Willow wouldn't be his friend, wouldn't be so desperately in love with him.

Steve Harrington had been an asshole. But as he said those words, Eddie didn't see the glare of an asshole in his eyes. Eddie saw something broken. He hadn't even flinched when Eddie had raised his fist. He looked as if he wanted Eddie to break his nose as much as Eddie yearned to do so.

"Do it, Munson. Fucking do it. Prove to her that you're the doting boyfriend, knight in shining armor, that you'll do anything for her-"

"No."

As quickly as Eddie had pressed Steve to his car in his fit of rage, he let go, slamming Steve back with a grimace as he put distance between them.

"Do it, Munson!" Steve shouted suddenly, about to take another step towards Eddie, but all he received in return was a shove to keep him in place.

Eddie maintained distance, "You want me to hurt you."

"And you want to hurt me, so do it -"

"You want me to punish you for what you did to her," Eddie breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as the realization fully settled, "You need someone to hurt you because you know you hurt her. You know you fucked up, Harrington."

It isn't staged as a question. Both men breathed heavily as they stared at each other.

"I fucked up," Steve nodded in agreement. He had the look of a crazed man in his eyes, and Eddie swore he could see tears building.

"She was your friend, and you fucked up."

Eddie couldn't stop stating the obvious. With every word, Steve was finally flinching. Those words were hurting him more than any bruises, any punches, any broken bones ever could.

"She was more than a friend," Steve whispered, and his walls began to crumble as Eddie watched him take in his pain in full stride, "You of all people should know how easy she is to love."

A part of Eddie had softened for Steve that day. His rage remained, but he knew that fighting Steve wouldn't satiate it. He didn't deserve a bloody nose; he deserved to sit with what he had done, to be reminded of the hurt he'd caused Willow that night. Steve's words rang true to Eddie's ears - she was easy to love. Eddie knew it, and Steve knew it.

Steve loved Willow.

And maybe it had been selfish, but Eddie chose to keep it to himself. Because he loved Willow, too .

It's a terrifying admission, even in his solitude. And he convinces himself he doesn't mean it in that way, that he couldn't possibly be in love with her - he simply loved her presence. As a friend. He loved the way she lit up every room she walked into, he loved the way she looked at him with a tenderness he'd never experienced before in his life. He loved the way she'd play air-guitar with him in his van on the way to school even if she didn't know the songs he played. He loved the way she bantered with him, always taking as much as she could give. He loved the way she let him gravitate towards her, a moon of her own kind as he fell into her orbit.

That's how friends always loved each other, right?

So he hid Steve's own admission out of selfishness. Because if Willow knew Steve reciprocated her feelings, she'd choose him. And this would all be over. Despite how often she had reminded Eddie that they were friends , best friends now apparently, he knew that the day she chose Steve inevitably would be the day their chapter closed. Eddie told himself it was because she'd be preoccupied, wrapped in puppy love and a honeymoon phase that surely would reach eternity between her and Steve, and wouldn't have time for him. Which was fine . It was fine. The day would come, and Eddie just needed a bit more time to come to terms with it. Time to prepare himself for losing her, even as she was still at his side.

Willow stirs from beside him, and he holds his breath before she settles deeper into her comforter.

His eyes graze over her face, his fingers itching to reach up and brush some of her faded strands of hair from her cheek. She was peaceful like this. A calm serenity washing over her features in the moonlight, a certain softness to her he could never grow tired of. A childish smoothness that had been stolen from her too soon.

He needed a cigarette.

He's careful in his movements, slinking out of the bed and digging through his bag quickly before finding the pack he had been searching for. Enough of the cigarettes were gone for him to fit a black lighter into the box, snug in its perfectly made space. He doesn't worry about throwing on a jacket of any sort, leaving her room in just his plaid pajamas and old band shirt.

He pauses once he enters the hallway, not making a single noise. Her mom's door was shut, and he could hear snoring in the distance. Perfect . He really didn't want to be caught. It didn't matter if Anne had known the entire time that Eddie had made a habit of sneaking in and out of her daughter's room late at night - he was determined to prove himself to be a perfect gentleman. The kind of boy Anne would want her daughter to date, the kind of boy that Steve Harrington was seen as.

If she were to catch him on their back porch, lighting up a cigarette, it would surely wreck that image for him. But he tells himself he won't be long as he takes a long drag, trying to shake the emotions swirling about his body.

Willow's description of her past was hard to shake, though. It was stubborn, the desolate look on her face as she had retold the story of the night clinging to the corners of Eddie's mind. He had a million questions for her, but tonight hadn't felt like the right night for an interrogation. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her.

"What are you doing up?"

He jumps, not expecting her sleepy voice sounding from behind him in the doorway. When he turns, she stands there in all her exhausted glory - a messy head of pale red hair, cheek still marked with lines from her pillow, eyes half closed.

"What am I doing up?" he tries to chuckle, "What are you doing up?"

She takes a few steps, settling onto the wooden steps beside him, "Don't answer my question with a question."

Her voice is laden with fatigue, and he almost insists that she go back to bed. But something in the way her head comes to rest on his shoulder tells him that she wouldn't listen to him even if he tried.

"I couldn't sleep," he finally admits softly, "Figured a smoke might help."

She hums in response, her head growing heavier as the seconds passed.

He lets them revel in their silence. Some sparse cloud coverage trails across the sky, partially covering the moon, taking away some of the light that her backyard had basked in and his eyes had adjusted to. Every time he exhales his smoke, he turns his head to blow it away from them, watching it get carried away in the slight breeze of the night.

For tonight, he would lay down his armor. He didn't need to worry about the end of them just yet. For now, he would just enjoy being here with her.

As he finishes off the cigarette with one final puff, he turns his face back to hers only to find her already looking at him.