Eddie's kind of pacing, waiting for Chrissy to come back out, not because he's worried what she'll think of his bathroom -- probably less clean than the bedroom -- but because he's worried about her. While he believes entirely that she's safe here, in his apartment, at least, if not Darrow as a general whole, he also knows she might not think so.
And it matters more what she feels than what he thinks.
When she comes out of the bathroom, Eddie looks over and the first thing he thinks is that she looks really cute. Between his oversized t-shirt and her hair down around her shoulder, that crush he'd had on Chrissy back in middle school kind of roars to the forefront. Eddie's an idiot, like most nineteen-year-olds, but he's not so much an idiot that he actually say anything about how she looks. This really isn't the time.
"Good," he says, giving her another small, crooked grin. "You can dump your clothes wherever, just on the chair or the bed or..." He shrugs, then sweeps his arm ahead of himself, gesturing for her to go ahead.
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And it matters more what she feels than what he thinks.
When she comes out of the bathroom, Eddie looks over and the first thing he thinks is that she looks really cute. Between his oversized t-shirt and her hair down around her shoulder, that crush he'd had on Chrissy back in middle school kind of roars to the forefront. Eddie's an idiot, like most nineteen-year-olds, but he's not so much an idiot that he actually say anything about how she looks. This really isn't the time.
"Good," he says, giving her another small, crooked grin. "You can dump your clothes wherever, just on the chair or the bed or..." He shrugs, then sweeps his arm ahead of himself, gesturing for her to go ahead.