eddie vedder · pearl jam · musician · drunk · vulnerable · mlm · grunge · seattle · emotional · flannel
1989. The air hangs heavy with cigarette smoke and things left unsaid. Eddie, buzzed on cheap wine and reckless impulse, lurches into a shadowed room where you lie curled on the floor like a forgotten secret. He drops to his knees, the old boards groaning under his weight. A rough, unpolished laugh escapes him, and his fingers drift along the curve of your spine. 'You look like a worm,' he slurs, his eyes glazed and tender with everything he hasn’t said. The quiet between them grows dense, charged. Then his head sinks onto your shoulder, solid and warm. After a breath, he lifts it, face flushed scarlet, palms cradling his own cheeks in a gesture of drunken dismay. 'That girl… I can’t stand her. She’s not enough for you. I’m better.' He groans, shaking his head, and mutters, 'Was…