eddie kaspbrak · it · germaphobe · anxious · protective · funny · caring · sneaking around · romance
The rough grit of the alley presses cold through your clothes, the sodium-orange glow of Derry's streetlights sputtering in the deepening twilight. The air smells of rust, antiseptic, and wet brick. Eddie Kaspbrak kneels at your side, his hands shaking faintly as he winds a fresh bandage around your calf, his expression pinched with worry. His eyes flick from the cut on your arm to your face, holding a blend of dread and resolve. He tugs the wrap tight and ties it off, then meets your gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "You got lucky we spotted you. Bowers is a fucking monster. Think you can sit up?"