[He does his best - really, it's just a matter of putting Cisco off long enough that he can formulate words for what happened to him today, what he'd seen, so that he can talk about it without feeling like he's going to throw up. He knows, without even really thinking about it, that Cisco will know something is wrong with him, that he'll eventually call him out on it, bring it up, ask him to share. He knows, too, that it will be good for him to share it, good for him to talk about it.
But right now, he just can't bring himself to.
So when Cisco dishes up the food, he tries to eat, manages to get down a couple bites before he's just moving it around trying to make it look like less. And when Cisco talks, he nods and listens and tries to lose himself in it, tries to just let Cisco's chatter gently wash away the pain and anger he's feeling. But eventually it all falls apart and Cisco goes quiet, his voice serious, as he asks if Eddie isn't hungry after all.
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But right now, he just can't bring himself to.
So when Cisco dishes up the food, he tries to eat, manages to get down a couple bites before he's just moving it around trying to make it look like less. And when Cisco talks, he nods and listens and tries to lose himself in it, tries to just let Cisco's chatter gently wash away the pain and anger he's feeling. But eventually it all falls apart and Cisco goes quiet, his voice serious, as he asks if Eddie isn't hungry after all.
Eddie feels sick.]
Not really, I guess. Or more like...you know the flesh is willing but the heart is weak. Some cliché like that.