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Before Eddie can even figure out the words to ask, Buck speaks again, always somehow managing to read his mind. “I know you want to ask about it,” he says while picking at the skin around his nails. “You—you wanna know what happened, that’s fair, but…” he sighs. “Not yet. Please.”
Eddie nods, releasing a low, “Of course.” He straightens up in his seat to check the time on the radio. “We have eight hours and forty-seven minutes anyway.”
Buck lets out a small huff of breath at that, but he doesn’t speak again. He turns back to the window. A new soft song plays through the speakers. Eddie wants to turn it off, but he leaves it on. He grips the wheel tighter.
OR: Buck and Eddie embark on the ten-hour trip back home to Los Angeles, and a few truths slip through the cracks
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Bookmark Notes:
Again—because he simply cannot help it, Eddie looks over at Buck. There’s something that always draws him to Buck. Buck says jump, and with excruciating surrender, Eddie says how high, because that’s just how they are. There’s something within Buck that Eddie will perpetually be tied to.
