[for eddie] Every day I spend away my soul's inside out/gotta be some way to make it up
Being in a hotel room meant Ford couldn't exactly straighten up the room around him for company. The best he could do was fluff the pillows. Unfortunately, he had already fluffed them enough he was surprised they hadn't floated away. Setting down the pillow once again, he sank down on the bed, sighing and looking up.
When he had left Plymouth everything had been so clear. He had to return to New York, make things right with Eva, and then return to - return to what? There wasn't much to return to, not really. Either way, Eva wouldn't have that. Angry didn't begin to describe the woman's reaction when she saw that he was around again and in the city.
She had even threatened to sick her brother on him - or that he would do something very unpleasant if he came near her apartment. Her reaction had not been loving or warm.
Six months.
Ford had spent six months shacked up with the man he loved but he couldn't recognize this, couldn't see it for what it was. He couldn't see how much Eddie loved him back. To Ford, he was the catalyst for a broken engagement and a raging fire. Eddie was better off without him.
But Eddie had followed. Eddie had thrown the GPS out the window. All throughout high school Eddie had navigated for everyone else, he took their directions. Suddenly, the GPS wasn't a factor and he was lost in a city where the man he loved was staying. Of course, he couldn't voice this love. He couldn't voice that Ford had clearly been the reason for his arrival.
The young psychic couldn't have Eddie paying for a hotel room. Not when he knew exactly why Eddie was here. Not when he had a perfectly nice bed, loving arms and a new disposition. Plus, liquor. To Ford, liquor made everything better. At least then. And clearly, he had learned nothing from Amy.
Setting down a few small containers of vodka from the mini-bar he sighed, staring at them, waiting for the inevitable knock.
They were going to talk. Ford had a feeling Eddie would do most of the talking.
When he had left Plymouth everything had been so clear. He had to return to New York, make things right with Eva, and then return to - return to what? There wasn't much to return to, not really. Either way, Eva wouldn't have that. Angry didn't begin to describe the woman's reaction when she saw that he was around again and in the city.
She had even threatened to sick her brother on him - or that he would do something very unpleasant if he came near her apartment. Her reaction had not been loving or warm.
Six months.
Ford had spent six months shacked up with the man he loved but he couldn't recognize this, couldn't see it for what it was. He couldn't see how much Eddie loved him back. To Ford, he was the catalyst for a broken engagement and a raging fire. Eddie was better off without him.
But Eddie had followed. Eddie had thrown the GPS out the window. All throughout high school Eddie had navigated for everyone else, he took their directions. Suddenly, the GPS wasn't a factor and he was lost in a city where the man he loved was staying. Of course, he couldn't voice this love. He couldn't voice that Ford had clearly been the reason for his arrival.
The young psychic couldn't have Eddie paying for a hotel room. Not when he knew exactly why Eddie was here. Not when he had a perfectly nice bed, loving arms and a new disposition. Plus, liquor. To Ford, liquor made everything better. At least then. And clearly, he had learned nothing from Amy.
Setting down a few small containers of vodka from the mini-bar he sighed, staring at them, waiting for the inevitable knock.
They were going to talk. Ford had a feeling Eddie would do most of the talking.