[ When the two of them agreed on 6, Eddie didn’t expect six exactly. 6:05, maybe, or even closer to 6:30, but the knock comes at 6 on the dot—when he’s still digging around for the promised Xanax. He swears and silently chastises himself to figure out a better goddamn organizational system, this is the fifth goddamn time—
But he finds it in the next place he looks, quickly pockets it, and scrambles to swing the door open with a grin. ]
Six on the dot, deputy? Man, you’re really down bad for me, aren’t you?
[ There’s been a valiant attempt at secrecy, but that isn’t quite enough to ease the ever-present fear that someone could find out, someone might find out, and it very well could be the wrong person. Eddie hides it well, but there’s often an hour or so that follows their usual meeting that the spends in sheer terror, wondering if a second knock will come at his door, or if he’ll wake to the sound of a broken window, or worse.
But it’s not enough to call a stop to it, and that’s terrifying in and of itself.
Eddie leans against the doorframe for a moment, arms crossed and head tilted as he takes a good look at the man in front of him. It’s nice, genuinely, to see Gator out of the deputy gear for a change. It’s a touch less suspicious, less anxiety-inducing, and aids in further reminding Eddie that there’s more to Gator than cop. But he takes one look at that cowboy hat, and he can’t help but laugh. Yeah, because that’s way less conspicuous. ]
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But he finds it in the next place he looks, quickly pockets it, and scrambles to swing the door open with a grin. ]
Six on the dot, deputy? Man, you’re really down bad for me, aren’t you?
[ There’s been a valiant attempt at secrecy, but that isn’t quite enough to ease the ever-present fear that someone could find out, someone might find out, and it very well could be the wrong person. Eddie hides it well, but there’s often an hour or so that follows their usual meeting that the spends in sheer terror, wondering if a second knock will come at his door, or if he’ll wake to the sound of a broken window, or worse.
But it’s not enough to call a stop to it, and that’s terrifying in and of itself.
Eddie leans against the doorframe for a moment, arms crossed and head tilted as he takes a good look at the man in front of him. It’s nice, genuinely, to see Gator out of the deputy gear for a change. It’s a touch less suspicious, less anxiety-inducing, and aids in further reminding Eddie that there’s more to Gator than cop. But he takes one look at that cowboy hat, and he can’t help but laugh. Yeah, because that’s way less conspicuous. ]
Yeah, alright, Big Iron. Come in.