[for eddie] Every day I spend away my soul's inside out/gotta be some way to make it up

[and_twosyllable]

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

Comments

[im_nohenley]

Eddie didn't know what he was doing, he was sure he was self destructing or some crap like that. He had to be on crack, maybe he had started drugs in his sleep or something. Maybe he was in a dream, that would explain the self torture and how things didn't make sense. He had waited till break, got in his car and then drove to New York to chase after his best friend who had made it clear that he couldn't stay. Maybe Ford didn't even really want him, he found it so easy to walk away after all.

He loved him though. Damnit, that was tricky and it was trouble. But even now he was right outside of Ford's room, pacing a little bit as he tried to get up the courage to knock on the door. He used to face down an entire football team, never thought a thing of it when they came running at him but right now he had never been more terrified to face a man that he had been quite intimate with.

Finally, he turned around and knocked. Then made himself stand there and wait for Ford to open the door.

[and_twosyllable]

Ford looked up, a pained look on his face. If he knew Eddie hadn't even been sure if Ford had feelings, if Ford had wanted him -- if only he were telepathic and not psychic. Taking a deep breath, he stood up from the bed and made his way over to the door.

Biting his lower lip his hand grasped the handle. Pulling down, he opened the door revealing his best friend, once lover and possibly his one great love all in one.

All he could muster in that second once he set his eyes on Eddie in person was, "Thank you."

[im_nohenley]

If he were telepathic, things would get a lot more complicated. He was glad that the other man couldn't read his thoughts because then he would be uncomfortable because most of the time he couldn't even keep track of his thoughts.

As the door opened to reveal Ford, Eddie felt a little like he had been punched in the stomach.

"For what?" He looked at him, confused.

[and_twosyllable]

"Coming here," Ford said, looking down and then away. "Come in, please," he told the other man, holding the hotel door open for him. He tried to sort through his thoughts in a very short amount of time and that clearly didn't work. Ford closed the door, turning back around to face the man he'd spurned twice now.

"I know I don't deserve your following me. I know that."