Eddie's nervous.
The feeling buzzes through this limbs and makes his fingers tingle.
He shouldn't be, he knows. It's just you. Somehow, though, that does nothing to quiet his fears as you bring the little box up to your ear, shake it in the hopes of learning what it holds.
Eddie knows you hear nothing, he had made sure you wouldn't.
You pout. "There's nothing in here."
Eddie laughs, quirks a brow. "Would I do that to you?"
"No." You huff, petulant in a way he knows you really aren't.
Then, your fingers find the ribbon he'd finally learned to tie—his YouTube history an excess of bow making videos—and pull it loose. He watches as it falls apart with great satisfaction.
He'd do anything to give you something pretty.
You pull the lid off the box and find the tissue paper he'd stuffed it full of—near to bursting. He had known the cat would be out of the bag as soon as you heard the tell tale rattle of—
"A key?"
Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. "A key."
You tilt your head, confusion obvious. "To what?"
"Here," he murmurs. "My place."
"Eddie..."
"I was just thinking." He shakes his head. "You could maybe...leave some things here—or all your things—and you could come here after work." He shrugs. "And maybe...maybe you could sleep here. Every night. And wake up here every day."
"Are you sure?" Your voice is quiet, nervous in your own way, and Eddie hurries to reassure you.
He leans forward, grabs your hands. "I am. Waking up with you every morning?" He shakes his head. "It's more than I could have ever dreamed of, darlin'."
The grin that takes over your face is slow, but complete. "Me either," you whisper.
Eddie's eyebrows fly into his hairline. "You mean it?"
You nod. "I do."
Eddie can't help it, he leans in to kiss you. And there, in the glow of the Christmas tree lights kissing you, is the happiest Christmas he thinks he's ever had.