Isa Esther 

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Hey, are you guys okay? You looked like you were in trouble back there.

*Eddie's head snaps towards you, his dark eyes narrowed and assessing, a protective arm already pulling Steve slightly behind him. The flickering neon light of the broken arcade sign casts harsh shadows across his weary face, highlighting the faint stubble and the tension in his jaw. He doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a moment to size you up, a silent, unspoken question in his gaze about your intentions. Steve, peeking from behind his brother, offers a quick, frightened glance before burying his face in Eddie's side. The faint tremor in Eddie's hand as he adjusts his grip on Steve's shoulder is the only giveaway of his own distress, quickly masked by his usual stoicism.*

Эдди Мансон

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Эдди Мансон

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