5 REASONS TO FALL IN LOVE:
When it came to love, you never understood what all the fuss was about, truly, you didn’t. Not until you met Steve Harrington, that is, and the whole world just started making sense.
EARLY MORNING KISSES:
The first privilege came in arguably the most affectionate show of love – a kiss placed on your lips so early in the morning you never quite know whether you’re dreaming or awake. And it is the absolute sweetest because you are the first thing on Steve’s mind when he opens his eyes and the last one before he closes them.
Early birds chirp their cheery tunes at dawn and the sun slowly rises; bright rays peak through the closed curtains of your room and burn the side of your cheek in almost a loving way. Steve is the first to stir – naturally, he is much more sensitive to sudden changes in lighting and temperature – and once he pries one hazy sleep ridden eye open all he can make out is a blurry image of your white ceiling. He blinks a few times, inhales a few breaths that taste like your perfume before his senses finally flow back into him and he tilts his head to the side. His hair sticks to his face and he shoves it out his eyes; he sees you still deep in sleep and most likely dreaming. And he wastes no time to lay his hand on your waist, feel your hot skin burn his fingertips as a lazy smile blooms on his lips. This peace lasts a moment, or possibly much longer, after all it’s hard to tell time when most of the world is still sleeping. He leans in and captures your lips in a soft kiss – a kiss he gives you every morning because true to the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty, you can only be awoken by a true loves kiss. He tried other methods. Tickling. Calling your name. A dozen alarm clocks. Nothing got a reaction, except this one thing and he did not use it sparingly.
The vast skies of dreams cloud with reality as slowly you feel yourself sucked into a stuffy, hot room, with dewy sweat coating your skin and batches of hair tickling your cheeks. The senses alert in one deep inhale and you grin immediately once you realize that Steve’s lips still rest on yours; a raspy giggle escapes you as you playfully smack his arm and he gradually, with one last peck on your cheek and a sweet and hoarse ‘Good morning…’ moves back to his pillow. Your hand finds his under the sheets, your fingers squeezing his as you hum.
“Babe…” You whisper.
Hawkins Movie Theatre is your favorite spot to hang out and of course Steve knows this. After all, he took you here on your first date. So each time you stepped through those double doors felt like the first time holding his hand all over again.
Midnight séance. A horror movie with flashy imagery and more nudity than you expected plays on screen as teenagers that are legal and not sit in couples and whisper amongst themselves. You sink into the plush red seat and inhale the scent of popcorn, cola, and something frying. The sounds are loud and unpleasant and you have to refrain from cringing when the volume jumps just a bit too loud. Your eyes stay glued to the screen despite the urge to ogle your boyfriend – you know that once you glance at him you will be unable to look away.
His hand rests on your thigh. Naturally, shoulder hugs are only for starting lovebirds, but you still remember how he pulled the old ‘yawn-wrap-my-arm-around-your-shoulders-don’t-freak-out-please’ shtick on you and how you absolutely swooned. Suddenly memories appear more interesting than the movie and you drift away. Oh, what a rainy day it had been when he had asked you out, not all that smug and cool. Not like the rumors painted him to be at all. He caught you after school, after basketball practice, as you were leaving your club with a stack of books and flyers occupying the space in your hands. He had offered to carry some heavier books and you had smiled sweetly at him for it. Then, once you reached your locker, and as you put the clutter away he had asked you if you wanted to ‘Catch a movie sometime?’. Your first reaction was to raise a brow in confusion and mild amusement. When you saw that he was serious, and despite himself nervous, your cheeks bloomed red and a shaky ‘Yeah…I’d like that’ fell from your lips before you could even think about it.
Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh and you perk up. Meeting eyes with him you try to bite down the smile. Seems he got bored of the movie, too.
Your house had been turned upside down as you, in great anger, tried to explain what the hell had happened to one of your friends. And how no one was supposed to know about it.
Steve sat on your bed with a book in his hand – English literature, can’t say it’s his favorite – as you pace around the small space of your room with your hands up in the air repeating the same wild gestures as you fight to control the volume of your voice. With blushed cheeks and a permanent frown on your face, you suddenly halt and stare at him, “Can you believe it?!”
“No.” He says, turning a page, “How could she?” His voice tatters on the edge of genuine interest. Frankly, he doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal, but if you want to vent he isn’t going to stop you.
“I know, right!?” You release a frustrated sigh and run a shaky hand through your hair; a moment of absolute silence passes and worried Steve glances up at you. Wide eyed, you state, “I don’t think I can be friends with her after this.”
You want his opinion. Dear God, you want his opinion. His advice is debatable in quality (Dustin, after all, didn’t get the girl despite Steve’s 100% proven technique) and to toss in his two cents in the beef that you have with your friend? This may potentially ruin your and hers friendship, or at the very least what’s left of it. Silently, he puts the book aside and motions for you to come closer. Sadly you walk over, and gently grasping your hand he pulls you into his lap. His head comes to rest on your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist and you find a comfortable position to rest. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and he can’t help but frown. He doesn’t want to see you like this.
“Hey…” He calls softly, his fingers hooking some loose strands of (color) hair over your ear, “Don’t be sad. I mean, I’m really not the best person to discuss girl troubles with, but like you said…She’s a bitch.”
You nod, “I know, but…But she’s my bitch, Steve.”
He thinks, “…Yeah. She’s your bitch.”
“I should call her.”
“Yep. You go do that.”
TAKING PICTURES TOGETHER:
You love looking at pictures. Especially on rainy days when there is nothing better to do and the need for social interaction is on an all-time low. You suppose you like them so much because they are proof. Proof that something magical had happened.
“Oh my God!” Your mother cries, her hands grasping the Polaroid camera as if her life depends on it, “Oh my God, (F/Name)! (F/Name) come here! Our little baby’s all grown up now!” Her voice cracks at the end and you can’t help but release an amused smile.
You share a look with Steve. He gives a shrug. The two of you stand together, his arm around your waist. Graduation. You wear your best dress, finest hairdo, and perfect smile. You are positive Steve put an extra hours’ worth of work into his hair today, and you have the sudden urge to run your finger through it, though the amount of self-control you have surprises even you.
Another flash lights up the room and flinch and squint your eyes to shield yourself from the sudden attack. This is possibly the sixteenth picture that had fallen to the floor with your mothers promise to ‘Pick it up later! Now pose!’. Not having the heart in you to refuse her, you straighten your back, smile to the camera, and pray that you don’t look half as uncomfortable as you feel. Steve leans in and you feel his breath brush your ear, “Do you think she’ll ever stop?”
“Smile and pretend like you’re having a good time, sweetie.”
VIBING ALL NIGHT LONG:
The amount of records you have stocked up in your room makes Steve proud to call you his girl. The fact that the two of you share the same music taste is a huge plus, too.
…And your favorite song starts playing on the radio that goes in perfect tune with your laughing. Steve’s car suddenly turns into a dance floor – you squirm in your seat and do quick work to open the window to let the whole neighborhood hear your jam. The stars shape into fairy lights and street lamps flicker like at the disco on a Friday night. You close your eyes and inhale the scent of dewy grass as and wind and pollinated sleeping flowers. Summer is your favorite time of year, and no matter what hour you decide to sneak out the house you always find yourself in a permanent state of daze and awe. Last remnants of heat tickle your cheeks and you flash your eyes open, look at Steve and he shares your brilliant smile.
You hold your choice of beer up to his face, “Sippy!” You demand. He gives you a dismissive laugh, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he continues to drive around.
“I can’t—“ But before he can finish you turn up the volume and demand again.
“I’ll have to park the car!” He warns. You shake your head, “We’ll have to walk a mile home!”
“Don’t care! Sippy!”
a/n: edited this at 3am lmao don’t @ me if u find mistakes orz
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