Eddie stops abruptly with the forward motion and brings Richie with him as he side-steps around a pair of employees carrying trays full of drinks, so busy chattering amongst themselves and paying little attention to the fact that they're about to walk straight into Richie. Then, he continues forward again.
He's relieved to note that Richie gives a double-tap, suggesting that the volume isn't unbearable, at least. There's always the possibility that Rich is just being nice, but he's trusting Richie to be honest since Richie's the one whose ears will be ringing by the end of whatever the fuck is going on if he isn't. Eddie can't make any attempt to adjust if he doesn't know that he should, after all. Not that he can guarantee a successful attempt either way, but all the same.
Eddie can't tell if there's a hesitation there or if it's just his imagination, so he chooses to believe the latter and sighs, frowning, when he feels a second double-tap. "Are we just going to have to fucking stay like this? I can't be deaf forever, Rich, I'll go fucking insane. If we come across an employee, will you ask? I would, but I won't be able to hear the answer anyway. They have to know something, man, this shit doesn't just happen overnight for no reason," he says.
It's weird being bolstered by Richie's presence while also very much having to be the one taking the lead right now. They'll have to work as a team to communicate with the staff. Eddie can see the facial expressions and body language that need to go hand in hand with vocal communication and Richie can hear it. They'll have to compare notes to come up with the full picture. There's something oddly reassuring about that idea.
Up ahead, nowhere near where it belongs normally nor where it was when he left it this morning, Eddie sees the door to his room and he starts to pick up the pace. "I just found my door and I don't want to lose it. Are you good?" he asks, referring to the new speed of power walking just shy of a jog. The question isn't whether Richie trusts Eddie to keep him from running into anything or getting lost so much as whether Richie feels up to keeping up with it when he has to rely on someone else's eyes.
no subject
He's relieved to note that Richie gives a double-tap, suggesting that the volume isn't unbearable, at least. There's always the possibility that Rich is just being nice, but he's trusting Richie to be honest since Richie's the one whose ears will be ringing by the end of whatever the fuck is going on if he isn't. Eddie can't make any attempt to adjust if he doesn't know that he should, after all. Not that he can guarantee a successful attempt either way, but all the same.
Eddie can't tell if there's a hesitation there or if it's just his imagination, so he chooses to believe the latter and sighs, frowning, when he feels a second double-tap. "Are we just going to have to fucking stay like this? I can't be deaf forever, Rich, I'll go fucking insane. If we come across an employee, will you ask? I would, but I won't be able to hear the answer anyway. They have to know something, man, this shit doesn't just happen overnight for no reason," he says.
It's weird being bolstered by Richie's presence while also very much having to be the one taking the lead right now. They'll have to work as a team to communicate with the staff. Eddie can see the facial expressions and body language that need to go hand in hand with vocal communication and Richie can hear it. They'll have to compare notes to come up with the full picture. There's something oddly reassuring about that idea.
Up ahead, nowhere near where it belongs normally nor where it was when he left it this morning, Eddie sees the door to his room and he starts to pick up the pace. "I just found my door and I don't want to lose it. Are you good?" he asks, referring to the new speed of power walking just shy of a jog. The question isn't whether Richie trusts Eddie to keep him from running into anything or getting lost so much as whether Richie feels up to keeping up with it when he has to rely on someone else's eyes.