Hold my hand, Doctor. Try to see what I see. We are so lucky we are still alive to see this beautiful world. Look at the sky. It’s not dark and black and without character. The black is in fact deep blue. And over there, lighter blue. And blowing through the blueness and the blackness, the wind swirling through the air and then, shining, burning, bursting through, the stars. Can you see how they roar their light? Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes.
17: Front Porch — Thanks for the prompt, Jackie! And for all your support on my fics, always! Hope you enjoy this little something!
The sun was just setting, a pale orange hue streaked across the clouds. Despite the crisp sting of the autumn air on their cheeks, El and Mike sat out on the front porch of the cabin, their hands knitted together, their shoulders warm under a shared patchwork blanket.
Almost a year had gone by since Eleven had become Jane Hopper - El to all her friends and family - and she was allowed outside more often now. During their late night phone calls, El would even recount to Mike how she and Jim were looking for a new place to live, a small house somewhere just outside Hawkins, still close enough to see Mike as much as she wanted to.
And El was taking full advantage of being permitted outside, eager to explore the world and keen to watch every sunrise and sunset that she could, her eyes drinking in the ever changing colours and patterns of the sky.
Even though his cheeks were numb, Mike was glad to be next to her there on the porch, his eyes glued to her face as she stared out toward the horizon over the trees, wonder and awe written on her features. She was so beautiful; much more beautiful than the sky, if Mike had to choose.
“El!” Hopper’s voice sounded from inside he cabin, “Mike! Popcorn’s ready!”
El pulled her eyes away from the sky and back to Mike, smiling at the thought of how much his freckles reminded her of the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkness.
Flushing, almost able to read her thoughts, Mike squeezed her hand twice. She responded with one quick and gentle squeeze of her own. Their secret, silent code.
“El,” Mike whispered, leaning closer, pressing his forehead to hers and losing all awareness of anything other than her immediacy. He saw her eyes flutter closed and followed suit, just about to brush his lips against hers.
All at once, the cabin door flew open and Mike and El flew apart, their blanket falling onto the dusty porch. Jim stood in the doorway, an expectant and teasingly harsh expression on his face.