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So naturally, about a month into dating, you decide surprising him at his apartment is a great idea.  

You slip inside with the spare key because he told you weeks ago “it’s okay to stop by whenever.”

You think it'll be cute.

Maybe you'll sneak up behind him, cover his eyes, press a kiss to his cheek just to watch him go all flustered and pink for you. 

You've got a soft plushie tucked under your arm—a teddy bear wearing a blue hoodie and tiny little glasses that looks exactly like him. Keys Bear, as you'd immediately named him in your head.

You're still grinning to yourself as you jiggle the door open.

Except the moment you step inside you hear:

“Motherfucker.”

You stop dead, the keys still dangling from your fingers, plushie nearly slipping from your arm, because... 

Who the hell was that?

You know that voice.

But at the same time... you don't.

It sounded like Keys.

Except lower, rougher. Completely stripped of the soft-spoken warmth you're used to hearing.

“There’s no fucking way that hit me.”

Click.

Click-click-click.

“Where did this guy even come from?”

Click-click.

“Yeah, okay. Sure. That's bullshit.”

Your eyebrows slowly climb toward your hairline.

Keys swears?

Obviously he does; he's an adult, you've never assumed otherwise.

But around you, the harshest word you've ever heard him say is probably “damn.”

You inch down the hallway toward his bedroom, the door cracked open enough for you to peek through.

And you find your sweet, considerate, impossibly patient boyfriend sitting there, three inches from the monitor, headset on, shoulders wound so tight they're practically touching his ears.

His eyes are locked onto the screen with laser-focus, fingers flying across the keyboard faster than you can follow.  

The same fingers that slip into yours mid-conversation.

The same fingers that patiently untangle your necklaces when they knot, zip up your dresses when you're struggling with the clasp.

The same fingers that help you fold laundry on lazy Sunday mornings because “it's faster if two people do it.” 

The same fingers that once spent forty-five minutes researching heating pads online because he was not about to let you suffer through cramps with anything mediocre.  

You've never seen him look this focused before. 

Jaw set tight, a tendon in his neck standing out in a way you’re not used to seeing. His eyes are narrowed behind his glasses, the screen reflecting in quick, restless flashes of light across the lenses. 

“Are you actually serious right now?”

Click.

“Push mid.”

Click-click.

“No—don’t stand there, move.”

Click.

“Yeah. That's what I thought.”

Your stomach does a strange little flip.

Because...

Is this your boyfriend?

Your sweet boyfriend? 

Your “text me when you get home” boyfriend? 

Your “hold still, it's cold” boyfriend?

Your “I saw this and thought of you” boyfriend? 

Your “I made extra food because I knew you’d forget to eat” boyfriend? 

The man who says “sorry” when he needs to squeeze past someone in a grocery aisle?

The man who once spent an entire afternoon helping his elderly neighbor move furniture because her grandson couldn't make it over that week?

The man who gets pink in the face whenever you compliment him?

Who still gets visibly flustered every time you kiss his cheek?

That man?

And what really gets you, about all this, isn't the swearing.

It's his tone. 

Key’s isn’t shouting into his microphone or slamming his desk the way you’d expect from most gamers.

If anything, he’s speaking in this low, calm register.  

Something a little degrading in his voice when he tells his teammates: “You wanna try that one again?” or “Nice job, buddy. Maybe hit something next time.”

A kind of cool, knowing arrogance that only comes from being completely certain he’s right.

Which, judging by the groans from the people in his headset and the score steadily climbing on his screen, he usually is. 

You always knew your boyfriend liked being right. 

When you first met Keys, you'd figured out pretty quickly that he was insanely smart. Competitive, too.  

You just never realized he’d been holding himself back this whole time. 

It's like discovering your golden retriever has teeth.

Because for the first time, it occurs to you that your boyfriend isn't nice because he lacks a backbone.

He isn't sweet because he's incapable of being mean.

He's sweet because he actively chooses to be. 

Watching him now, it's obvious.

That quick wit, that confidence. That razor-sharp sarcasm and the ease with which he fires back cutting comments without missing a beat.

A side that clearly existed long before you met him.

It's always been there, just hidden underneath polite smiles and good manners.

That contrast, unfortunately, is making it very difficult for you to think straight.

And even more difficult to stand straight.

You shift your weight in the doorway, still clutching little Keys Bear against your chest as you feel heat pool between your thighs, growing wetter with each passing second—another low, mumbled comment from him, dry and just this side of mean, effortless in the way he says it and so different from the softness he shows you.

On screen, another defeat.

Keys lets out a long, suffering sigh, dragging a hand through his hair as he slumps back in his chair.  

It swivels slightly with the motion, and his gaze finally catches on you in his peripheral vision.

You watch as those big, expressive puppy-dog eyes go round with shock. 

And just like that, Gamer Keys disappears. 

He jolts, the headset nearly flying off as he yanks it from his head, sending it clattering onto the keyboard. 

“Baby! Hey!” The smile that spreads across his face is instantly familiar, warm and soft, albeit surprised. “When did you, uh, when did you get here?”

You blink, remembering to swallow the spit pooled on your tongue before you speak. 

“Just now.”

Keys studies you for a second.

The slack-jawed, slightly dazed look on your face must give you away, because his brows pull together.

“Is... everything okay?”

“Yep.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Okay, cause… I mean, you’re kinda just staring at me right now? So...”

Yeah.

Because ten minutes ago you thought your boyfriend was the sweetest man alive.

And you still do.

Except now you’ve discovered there’s an entirely different side to him underneath all that softness.

A side that's confident, quick-witted, ruthless, almost intimidating when the situation calls for it.  

Mean.   

You clear your throat, glancing down at the teddy bear still squished against your chest before holding it out.

“I brought you this.”

Keys blinks at it, then carefully takes it from you with both hands.

And the expression that breaks across his face is so soft, so fond, it makes you doubt whether the last few minutes were real at all.

“Wow, this is... he’s so cute,” he huffs out a quiet laugh, turning it in his hands, thumb smoothing over its head. He looks up at you, a boyish grin pulling at his mouth, his glasses catching the light. “Is this supposed to be me?”

You nod.

He lets out another laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. I see it.” 

He gently props the plushie up right beside his monitor, adjusting it once before letting it settle.

Then he reaches for you. It’s easy and instinctive—one arm slipping around your waist as he draws you closer, spreading his legs and guiding you into the space between his knees. 

Your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, fingers carding through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

He tilts his head up to look at you, still a little concerned, trying to figure out why you haven’t stopped staring at him. 

“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, quieter this time, thumb brushing against your side.  

You lean down, palms gently holding him in place as you press a sweet, feather-light kiss to his cheek. You give his face a soft little squeeze afterward, pleased by the scrunch of his nose and the way his grin spreads.

His ears turn pink.

There he is.

Your Keys.

“Just missed you,” you mumble, then glance toward the glowing monitor behind him. “Can I watch you finish your game?”

His brows lift slightly.

“The game?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, you sure?” he blinks, clearly thrown. “We can do something else.”

You shake your head.

“No. Keep playing. I wanna see.” 

A slow, slightly confused smile tugs at his mouth before he nods. 

“Okay, yeah, sure. Let me grab you a chair.” 

You hum, then—much to Keys’ surprise—you turn around and plop yourself down, right into the space between his thighs.

His chest presses flush against your back, the familiar warmth of him wrapping around you. The sudden closeness seems to catch him off guard; you feel his breath hitch right by your ear, his lips grazing against your skin when he exhales.

You wiggle your hips, rubbing against his lap as you try to get comfortable, and immediately feel him go still behind you.

You bear just a little more of your weight down before turning your head, catching his wide-eyed gaze with a sweet smile. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

For the past few years, you had developed an incredibly bad habit. Sometimes, just sometimes, when you were feeling lonely, you would play your old voicemails back for yourself. All from the same person. The one that spent all of last night holding you in his arms, enveloping you in the comforting scent of sandalwood and vanilla. The same exact cologne he’d worn since he started caring about stuff like that, which was around the time he left you the voicemail you were listening to right now. 

16 years old.

“Hey Dove. Are ya comin’ to Jamie’s house tonight?” The music bumped loudly in the background, Gator’s voice barely audible over the chatter of the sophomore party. “Skip the homework for one night, k? Cause like…’S kinda boring without ya here.” You could imagine him now — head down, probably downing a drink before talking — just as you did when you first heard the voicemail, having knocked out early because you couldn’t stand to see all the fun you were missing out on. More accurately, you didn’t want to see all the fun Gator could have without you. And with many other girls. “Gator! You have to be on my team for beer pong! I’m hopeless without you.” A drunk voice giggled. “I gotta go but…maybe I’ll see you later.”

“Babe.” A hand on yours ripped you from the memory. You quickly composed yourself as you tore out your earphones and turned to Malcolm, who was next to you on the bed. “What are you so invested in listening to first thing in the morning?” He blinked at you with the sweetest sleepy eyes, running his thumb softly against your skin. Your heart sank. What were you doing being stuck in memories that didn’t matter anymore when he was right there?

“Nothing.” You placed your phone on the nightstand and laid back down so you were wrapped in Malcolm’s arms, your head tucked against his chest. Yeah. This was right. When you smiled up at him, he immediately captured your lips in a kiss. One that quickly grew hungry as he rolled over you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, and you were aching desperately. But as you opened your eyes for a split second, your gaze caught the clock. 

“Malcolm.” He didn’t hear you the first time, still kissing down your neck. And you wanted it. Oh, you wanted it bad. But you couldn’t. For many reasons. “Malcolm.” You tried again. This time he hummed in response, but moved his hands down your body as he kept kissing. You didn’t know why your stomach dropped. You pushed him up, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’m going to be late for work.” 

At your words, he sighed and rolled to the side. You hated every part of this. Ever since you’d been here, everything between you had just been…off. You pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “See you tonight, yeah? Love you.” 

“Love you too.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You tried to ignore the suffocating air in the room as you got ready for the day. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Working at Dave’s had taught you a lot about Lehigh. That people here loved routine — same diner, same food, same time everyday. That folks were physically unable to hide the emotions on their faces, gossiping in front of the very people they were talking about. And that gossip was spread the most between old men who disguised their discussion as “concern” for the town. But more than that, it had taught you a lot about a certain man who had now become the head of your town. 

As you were working the floor, Cory walked in, with his wife and little Hayden trailing right behind. You were immediately smiling at the little boy trying his hardest to jump into the vinyl seats of the booth. “Hey Cory.” You smiled, taking out your notepad. You weren’t exactly happy with the man driving Gator home drunk that time, but at least he had looked out for Gator. Which it seemed most of the deputies weren’t doing. 

“Hey!” He broke out into his toothy smile, pulling Hayden up to the seat while the boy grunted in protest. “I didn’t know ya worked here.” 

“Um, yeah.” You blushed, embarrassment flooding through you. “Gotta get a job while I’m here. Bills and all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure if you just went places with Sheriff Tillman, you wouldn’t have t’ pay for a single thing in this town, honestly.” His wife, May, chimed in. She meant no harm but everything in you tensed. First, being reminded that Sheriff Tillman meant Gator now, and the idea of always having his name spoken in the same breath as yours. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” You gritted. 

“Hayden, you remember Mr Tillman right?” You couldn’t avoid it. That’s how everyone in this town knew you. It was like the seventeen years of life you’d spent here before that didn’t even matter. 

“Big Tillman or Little Tillman?” Hayden blinked, unassuming. Cory’s cheeks immediately went red at the exposure of what he called the Tillmans behind closed doors and he looked to you with pure fear flashing in his eyes. You only shook your head, because you would never tell Gator that truth. Mostly because you knew how much it would hurt his feelings. 

“Little Tillman.” You answered. “But he’s a much bigger person than his daddy.” You had your problems with him, but that, especially after last night, you could admit. 

“Right.” Cory laughed, cheeks flushing an even deeper red. “Well, this is his-” 

“Friend.” You cut in. Cory and his wife stared at you for a long minute at those words, and you felt your heart sink. “It’s not like he’d understand the truth.” You shrugged. And besides, right now, the two of you were working towards friends.  “What can I get you?” You whipped out your pen, trying to get the eyes off you. But before they could answer, you noticed that Hayden had hopped off the chair and slipped past you onto the crowded diner floor. Now, he was weaving through legs at a speed you didn’t know was possible, and you knew an accident was coming. Immediately, your reflexes kicked in, managing to quickly catch up to him right as he was about to crash into a customer.

You scooped him into your arms, resting him on your hip as he squealed a little in protest but didn’t fight. “Hayden.” You scrunched your eyes as if you were focusing really hard, so he matched your look. “You want to be a super spy, right?” You’d taken note of his James Bond shirt and your shot in the dark had stuck. Hayden nodded aggressively. “Then can we be on a secret mission and stay very still so the villains don’t notice us?” You pointed at a random table, almost feeling bad to rope them into your games. Hayden’s smile grew wide at the thought and he nodded, placing a tiny palm to his mouth to signal his silence. “Sorry about that.” You looked up to the woman who he had almost crashed into and froze when you noticed who it was. 

Beth Marsh. 

The girl that you spent the entirety of high school watching. The girl that you despised because you wanted to figure out how to be her. Floating through this town as if nothing ever bothered her, with far too many friends and even more boyfriends. She was a magnet, loved by parents and kids alike. And you never understood how. 

Right now, she was eyeing you up and down in that familiar scrutinizing glare, but at this point you’d gotten use to the whole town’s eyes doing just the same. Quickly, though, she straightened up, a fake smile coming across her face as she gasped out your name in shock. “I can’t believe it. I heard you were back, but oh my goodness, look at you. You’re so…” She trailed off, clutching tighter to her purse, trying to find the kindest way to describe it. “Different! Like a real city girl.” 

“I mean, Beth, I’m in a bright yellow Dave’s uniform. Don’t know if you can get much more Lehigh than that.” You smiled as best as you could, adjusting Hayden’s position on your hip as he fussed, watching Beth. 

She looked at Hayden’s arms reaching out for her perfectly done hair and took a shocked step back. You could tell she certainly didn’t have a kid yet. “Is this your…youngest?” The pause did all the heavy lifting in that sentence, judgement seeping into the silence. 

“Oh!” You laughed loudly. “Oh, no.” At this point, Hayden was poking your face in boredom so you gave Beth a polite nod. “He’s Cory’s kid over there. Better get him back.” You were half relieved that she wouldn’t have more time to analyze you, and take the gossip back to the same group of girls from school that she was probably still friends with.

But she only trailed behind, still talking your ear off. You swore she didn’t used to be this chatty. “How is your daughter then? Well, I mean she must be happy to see her dad again and have the ranch and all.” You only nodded, trying to pull Hayden off your hip and settle him in the booth, but he was clinging to you. 

“Hayden, don’t run again.” Cory scolded, trying to pry him from your arms. “No, Daddy!” He curled into your shoulder. “Want Mrs Tillman. She’s fun.” All four of you stilled at what he’d called you. 

You swallowed back what felt like something close to tears, and whispered in Hayden’s ear, feigning seriousness. “You remember our mission, right?” Hayden smiled. “Well if you sit down with Daddy, mission control might send you a secret surprise food.”

“What kind of surprise?” He pulled back, pushing his eyebrows together and looking at you.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?” He looked at you for a long moment, chewing on his lip before nodding, and settling next to Cory again.

“Thank you.” Cory whispered out in relief. “You’re really good with him.” You shrugged. “Practice. This is the age where you have to turn everything into a game.” You could remember all the ones you had to play with Eden to get her to do basic things. “They wanna do everything on their own too, even though they can’t.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, well.” May smiled fondly to Cory, shaking his shoulder. “Sometimes that never changes.” 

“Amen.” Beth added, and you were reminded of her presence. “My husband, Andy, is just the same. They can be so stubborn sometimes.”

It took everything in you to stifle your gasp. “Andy? Like Andy from the marching band?” Surely you were mistaken. As cruel as it was, you had always thought that she would marry one of the footballers. Honestly, before you got pregnant, you were sure of exactly which one it would be too. But you were discovering again and again that people could surprise you. And how many irrational judgements you kept jumping to. 

Beth nodded, the pride radiating off her. “He helped me with car trouble a few years back and well…comin’ up on two years o’ marriage now.” She didn’t even hesitate to pull out her phone and start showing you pictures. Despite not being able to wrap your head around it, they truly did look like the happiest family. So did Cory, May and Hayden. Sometimes, it felt like it was just you who couldn’t get it right. 

“I always thought it’d be you and Gator.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You don’t know what you expected any of them to say but it wasn’t the reaction you ended up getting. 

“Gator?” Beth gasped out a laugh. The three of them exchanged a look like they were best friends who were sharing some intimate inside joke, and broke into laughter almost in unison. There was a good few seconds where you just stood there, completely lost as they kept sputtering out chuckles like they were in disbelief. “Honey,” Beth finally spoke. “’S a well known fact around here that no woman is gettin’ anywhere near that one.” You knew why you wouldn’t, but to everyone else in this town, most of that stuff was normal. And it hadn’t stopped anyone in high school. 

“Why?” You cocked your head to the side. There was silence for a moment, and they all just stared at you. And those looks were the silent answer that you’d never thought you’d hear. You. Actually, technically, you still hadn’t heard it, which is why you were able to quickly send Beth off to a table and take Cory’s order as if the thought that Gator Tillman — the Gator Tillman, who could have anyone he wanted — hadn’t talked to another woman in nine years wasn’t going to haunt you forever. 

You broke right back into your useless habit that very shift, hiding out in the kitchen as you played the next voicemail in the loop. 

16 years old.  

“Know your probably grounded for the whole sneaking out to the scrapyard thing but…I just…” He sighed dramatically. “Look, y’ know I’m not good with words but- I don’t know, I mean, last night felt kinda…Like, it just hit me that maybe that was your first time, and I really wish I made it-” He took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his wavering voice. “Ok, I’m just gonna say it. Know we’ve been friends for a long time, but last night felt right to me. And I think- I’d like to do it again, ‘f you’d like to do it again. Or we could just…forget about it. It’s totally up to you, y’know? I don’t care- I mean, I do but I just- I want us to be good- I-” His distinct, dramatic gulp echoed through the speaker. “…Call me back when y’ can.” That one always made you blush, that same feeling of butterflies flitting in your stomach. He sounded so flustered and you knew he only got that way when he actually cared about something. He told you once, later, that he was always amazing at being confident when he had to lie but telling the truth was a lot harder. You never asked about it again, but you always noticed it, because Gator was almost always lying, even when he wasn’t aware of it. 

A whistle from inside the diner grabbed your attention and you quickly snapped up, stuffing your phone in your pocket. Jessica walked over, her teeth flashing bright against her red lipstick. “You’ve got customers askin’ after you.” She nodded towards Cory’s family, who had finished up their meal and the special curly fries you’d given Hayden as his reward. What you forgot about this town is, that just as quickly as people spread around rumours and secrets that turned everyone against you, people became friends instantly too. “Thanks.” But just as you were about to step away, you paused. “Hey, can I ask you something?” She smiled back at you, so sweet in that way you knew would melt any man. Which is why you couldn’t stop your curiosity. “When we were here on the fourth- Well, Gator must come here often-“ No matter how much you were embarrassing yourself, you simply had to know. What you’d heard earlier simply couldn’t be true. “I guess I’m asking, have you two ever-“ Jessica cut you off with the same exact laugh that the others had let out. 

“Don’t have to worry ‘bout me. Or anyone really.” Your entire body released and tensed in one. She gave you a smug smirk. “Guess Dave owes me twenty bucks.” “What?” 

“We had a bet runnin’ how long it’d take you guys to patch it up. Seein’ as well…” She indicated between the two of you. “And your shiny ring is gone. So I won!” With a triumphant giggle, she turned away before you could argue and you were left with your head absolutely spinning. You glanced down at your hand and suddenly remembered something. Your ring against the formica of your mother’s kitchen counter. Was it awful that you knew you weren’t bringing it back? 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The car engine hummed quietly as you drove home after your shift. Cory and May had practically begged you to babysit Hayden tomorrow so they could have the night out. You couldn’t say no to the extra money, and besides, you were kind of happy to help. You could see it in their eyes — the sleepless nights, no rest, no peace. You remembered what that baby phase felt like. Even before the baby was born. Coincidentally, you were reliving it right now. Because instead of some music for the drive home, the bluetooth in the car was playing Gator’s 17 year old voice. 

“Hi.” There was an extended beat of silence. “I…Running away earlier probably wasn’t the best move. It’s just…Shit. It’s a lot.” He exhaled loudly. “I dunno if you told your parents yet, but, you should come over for dinner with Dad. We can talk proper then.” He chuckled. “I mean, hell, this woulda happened anyway, right? It was always gonna be you. ’S just…early. I’ll see you tonight.” 

You remembered every bit of that dinner.You’d attempted to have the discussion with your mother earlier in the day so that at least she would be there. It wasn’t an hour later that your father was storming home from work, screaming the house down. You had managed to lock yourself in your room and snuck out the window so you could make it to the ranch. Alone. That’s when you really thought about the fact that you pretty much did everything in that house alone. And even if you did get rid of the kid, like your dad wanted, things were never going to be okay between the three of you. It probably never had been. So when Roy had offered you a comfortable home, the security of being a Tillman, and Gator had looked at you with those hopeful eyes as he squeezed your hand, how could you say no? You thought you’d have a support system. You thought you’d have that ever elusive thing called a family. And the first few years, however stressful they were, had really felt like that. 

You pressed the play button on the next voicemail as you turned down the street that lead to the ranch. 

19 years old.

“Hey, baby. Tried y’ a few times. You showerin’ Eden?” That was about a three hour task. “Listen, don’t hate me, but I forgot watcha wanted me to buy. I’ve got…” You heard the rattle of him pushing around thing in a shopping cart as he listed off the extensive amount of food he’d gotten. Eden had been in that time where she was incredibly picky about the food she ate, and her tastes changed every hour. “Oh! And I found a paint set here for a bargain. The mantle could use a nice decoration y’know, maybe you can start that on the weekend? Anyways, I know it was somethin’ for Edie but I ran over the list in my head a hundred times and I can’t remember. Don’t start with me on writin’ it down again, this is a one time thing, okay?”

You laughed now, hearing his incredulous tone. Gator used to be a very focused person. He got given a task and he was after that goal and that goal only. But when it came to Eden, he became something else entirely. The first time you had gone shopping before you even had her, he had practically cleared out the baby aisle, claiming you wouldn’t know what she’d be interested in so it was better to be safe than sorry. And though he wouldn’t tell another soul this, he used to be the one to pick out Eden’s clothes, claiming that that pink onesie would look perfect on her and this yellow dress would be great for church. It had gotten to the point where you had to ban him from going shopping so he wouldn’t blow all his money on spoiling her rotten.

You hadn’t noticed how hard you were smiling as you thought about it until you opened the front door, and it dropped. There, in the living room, sat Gator and Eden, across from Roy’s brother John, Karen, and a man and woman in suits that you didn’t recognize. Office types. Lawyers. 

As you shut the door behind you, they all turned at the sound. Worse than seeing these people here was seeing the looks on each of their faces. Karen and John shared that same knowing smile while Gator and Eden looked distraught. “What’s going on?” You asked, moving to sit on the arm of Gator’s seat. Your breath stilled as he began to explain that Karen and John were here with their lawyer because the contesting claim was officially being taken to court. The woman was someone Gator had hired, because, regardless of your feelings, you still needed a lawyer to get through this process. And for the millionth time since you’d been here, you were thinking about how much you despised Roy for putting you in this position. For years, you thought you would never see this place again, and then you did. And now, it did feel a little strange that this home, that Gator and Eden had spent the last month fixing together, was now going to vanish from view again. As the the group got up to leave, Karen turned to you with a snarl. “I’m gonna tear this place down, anyways, don’t get too attached.” 

“Ok.” You shrugged, pretending not to notice Gator’s exhale at your words. You didn’t care about this house anymore. You didn’t. You didn’t. You didn’t. As the lawyer lady began to talk about what the next steps were, you excused yourself to make some coffee for everyone. It was much easier to focus your energy on that than the way your body was being torn in two directions. You served the coffee, then began to sweep the house, organize the shoes at the front door, head upstairs and start scrubbing the bathrooms. Anything but think about how your family was going to be changed after this. Anything but wonder what Eden was going to decide to do. 

You didn’t need to wonder. 

Once the lawyer had left, you returned downstairs. Gator and Eden, of course,  both had a look in their eyes. One that told you everything. Even before Eden cleared her throat. “Mom?” She fiddled her thumbs. “Can we please talk?” You cautiously seated yourself across from them, swallowing. You were going to have to talk about this eventually. Eden glanced to Gator for a moment and he nodded encouragingly, hope sparkling in his eyes as he clutched onto some sort of paper in his hands. “I want to stay.” She said, straightening up. 

You took a deep breath, trying not to explode. “Ok, I know it’s nice having Gator here, but what about all your friends in Chicago? And you’re about to start high school, you already had everything prepared.” 

“Exactly. I’ve made friends here and I have Tom. Only Will would have gone to the same school as me.” She was already using past tense, like Chicago was some distant memory. Like all those years you’d worked your ass off to get her away from this town’s problems meant nothing. “And I can always call or text them.”

“And have ‘em over whenever she wants.” Gator added. You shrunk further back into your seat. 

“I get that. I do. But…this is a huge decision. What about our house? I have a job to think about.” You and Gator made eye contact then, your skin burning at the lie he could see right through. The worst thing was, you expected him to look at you with that stupid, self-satisfied glint in his eye. And sure, there was a hint of that. But mostly, it was pity.

“I know, Mom. But maybe you could get a transfer? And Dad promised he’d fix the WiFi so you could work remotely.” Your stomach dropped. They’d talked about this. Spent God-knows-how-long bonding over how stubborn Mom was being. You were trying to be rational, but your desire to leave was seeming purely selfish the more Eden and Gator began to gang up on you. You were starting to feel like a child, throwing a fit because things weren’t happening exactly how you wanted. 

And they were doing it again — looking at you with those eyes. At this point, you were sure the pair of them could convince a saint to kill someone. Well, knowing the Tillmans, Gator might have already done that. Which is why you didn’t want Eden here. Although, in all the time you’d been here, you hadn’t heard or seen Gator committing half the crimes Roy did. What would Eden even find if she inherited this land? And there was still the matter of if she would inherit this land. “Karen and the court case?” “I’m payin’ for the whole thing. And besides, the lawyer said their case was real weak.” So everything was pretty much up to you. Great. 

Staying here meant at least four more years of townsfolk whispering, and facing people you thought you’d put far in your past, And worst of all, risking Eden seeing everything that made Lehigh the hellhole you’d been trying to run away from. Gator was fine for now, but what if it was all an act to get Eden back here? What if he became the monster that you always feared? And Malcolm? What about the wedding? The house you dreamed of? With him, there was none of this uncertainty. With him, it was the stability you’d never had here. 

But if you left, what happened? As much as you hated to admit it, this visit had changed things. Gator and Eden were becoming the father and daughter that they once were. Something you hadn’t realized you missed until you came back here. You hadn’t seen her glowing this bright in a long time. And the thought of this house being torn down did sting. You glanced behind you to the mantle. On top of it, sat your painting of the old scrapyard.

“I’ll think about it.” You pursed your lips, fists balling into the fabric of your uniform. 

“Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mom. I love you.” After Eden gave you a big hug, and an even bigger kiss in gratitude, she rushed up the stairs to call Tom. 

You and Gator just stared at each other, the quiet wrapping tight around your throat. Choking. “What’s that?” You nodded to the envelope still held in his hands, trying to stop the pulsing in your head. “Uh, letter from my dad. Apparently, it got lost with…everything goin’ on.” You couldn’t distract yourself for more than a moment, because it led back to the same thing. The thing that was splitting you in two. “I-“ Gator finally spoke, eyes focused on his own hands as he wrung them back and forth. “It’s nothin’ personal, Dove. Just think it’s what’s best for Eden.”

You look down at your hands, picking at your nails. “I know.”

That made it so much worse. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

That night, you all ate dinner in a searing silence, Malcolm absolutely ignorant to it. He kept talking about a new client of his and you all nodded response, because it was much easier than acknowledging your issues. You didn’t look Gator in the eyes, Eden didn’t look at you, and Gator pretended his food was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Malcolm threw his fork down in frustration. “None of you have said a word for ten minutes, and that is very rare.” He nudged Eden jokingly. 

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong, Malcolm. Don’t be silly.” He didn’t need to hear about any of it until you made your decision. There was no point in more people worrying about things that might not even happen. The other two hummed in affirmation. 

At least you could agree on one thing. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The next night, you went over to Cory’s house, bags packed with some old toys of Eden’s, that actually belonged to Gator once upon a time. Some wooden cars that he had kept in his room even as a teenager. You always used to tease him about that, though you secretly loved that he had that hidden sentimental side. And though he initially protested that those were “boy’s toys,” when he had seen Eden playing with them, he had just about melted. 

Cory and May began ranting at you manically, checking of Hayden’s routines, allergies, likes, dislikes and everything between. You couldn’t help but smile at the way they were basically shivering as they said goodbye to Hayden. The desperation of wanting peace for a night but being terrified of leaving their kid with a stranger was something all too familiar to you. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

22 years old. 

You inspected yourself in the mirror, tucking back a strand of loose hair. Your eyes were slightly puffy and you hadn’t even started your night shift yet. You had to do good. You couldn’t afford another day without money. The emergency cash you’d snatched from Gator’s safe was shrinking and you were starting to doubt that you could do this. But you were in too deep now. 

“Ok.” You turned to the babysitter, attempting to shake away the nervous energy. “Her bedtime’s at 8, so after that you shouldn’t have many problems, just keep an ear out. Sometimes, she wants to sleep in my room. Just let her if she asks, for tonight.” The babysitter nodded along to your nervous ranting. “Dinner’s on the table. If you’re still hungry, take anything from the cupboards, though there’s not that much. Sorry. She was a bit sick last week so give her the cough medicine if she needs it.” You glanced to Eden, who was playing with some Barbies on the floor, blissfully unaware of the way your gut was twisting inside you. “Maybe I should stay.” You sighed. You had never left her alone at night before. Actually, you’d never used a babysitter before at all.

“Relax.” The woman smiled. “I’ve got it.” You had to trust her.

You crouched down next to Eden. “Honey, I’m going out for a bit, ok?”

“Is Daddy gonna come?”

“No, baby. Amy here is going to take care of you. Be good for me, yeah?” She nodded, still just playing with her Barbies. “I love you so much, ok hon?” You kissed her cheek. 

“Ok. Bye Mommy.” 

You were shaking as you shut the door behind you. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Eden made it through that night, and plenty of other just like it until you got a better job. “You know, kids are a lot tougher than you think.” You tried to give them a little comfort. 

Cory smiled as they stepped out of the door. “I used to freak out cause the kid wouldn’t sleep properly. And that’s exactly what the sheriff said t’ me.” 

He left you with those words that made your gut twist. 

You wondered how much it stung for Gator. To be around kids, and give others advice when he hadn’t seen his own child in years. You couldn’t imagine a day going by without Eden by your side, and you were struggling with the slightest distance she was currently putting between you. You understood her completely. They wanted to know each other again. And everything in you was sorry that you had to take them away from each other. You didn’t regret your decision, but you wished it didn’t have to hurt in so many ways. 

Still, you had to remind yourself that staying would have stung a lot more. 

Once you’d fed Hayden his dinner, he wanted to play on his own in the living room. So you settled yourself back on the sofa, watching carefully, but placing an earphone in. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The next few were all from the same time. The night you left. Eden in the backseat, your phone ringing again and again till you had to mute it. You didn’t call him back for over a month, because you knew you’d give up and turn around at the sound of his voice. 

22 years old. 

“Dove? What the fuck is this? Y’ can’t be serious.” You could hear him rummaging through the house, like you were just playing hide and seek and he’d find you hidden behind some cupboard or under the bed. 

“Answer your damn phone, woman! You’re being ridiculous. You can’t just take my daughter and leave!” 

“Ok, I don’t know what sort of temper tantrum you’re havin', but you need to come back here right fuckin’ now. You stole my damn car, I can find you, y’know? Dad can find you.” That last sentence sounded far more like a warning than a threat. 

In the next one, his voice was shaking, deafeningly quiet compare to the rest. “Seriously, baby, just come home, ok? We can- We can work out whatever this is. Together. I won’t even be mad. Just don’t take my family away from me.” 

Hayden’s scream tore you right back into reality. He was furious because one of Gator’s wooden firetrucks was missing the ladder and his fireman couldn’t reach the top of the dollhouse. You distinctly remembered seeing it when you were gathering the toys, but you’d dragged them from Eden’s closet all the way downstairs in your hands, so maybe it had fallen.

You hadn’t been around a little child in a long time, and you made the biggest mistake possible. You told the truth. “Oh, I must’ve left it at home.” You murmured. But that was enough. Hayden began demanding that you go get it. You tried everything. You offered him other toys, tried to bribe him with ice cream, told him it didn’t matter because it was time to get ready for bed. But he was dead set on getting that ladder. How was the cat meant to be rescued otherwise? And when you took it off the house and started packing down the toys, he began crying about how you wanted the cat to get hurt and you were mean. You ran around for almost an hour, trying to find something to calm him down.

And eventually, you relented. It was way past his bedtime, and you just needed to get him to sleep. But he refused until that cat came down the right way. You pulled out your phone, dialing the last person you wanted to, but the only one you could.

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The knock came fifteen minutes later.

Gator took one look at you and raised his eyebrows. “Fun night?” 

“The funnest.” You sighed, stepping back so he could enter. 

“Hey, kid.” He crouched next to Hayden. “Got a little surprise for ya.” When he pulled out the little wooden ladder, Hayden jumped, snatching it from his hand immediately. And when he’d got that goddamned little cat down, you and Gator let out the same breath of relief. “‘K bud, you gonna go to sleep now?” Hayden nodded, a satisfied grin on his face. You got up, ready to help him to sleep but Gator pushed you back down to the couch. “I got it.” You let him take the lead but still followed, because, well, even then, you had done most of the nighttime routines and actually taking care of Eden. Especially if he, at any point, knew Roy was around. But surprisingly, he was incredibly good. Teeth brushed, pajamas changed, and soon enough, Hayden was settled in bed, begging Gator to read a bedtime story. 

As he picked out one of Hayden’s picture book, you couldn’t stop yourself. “You sure that one’s not too big for you?” 

He only scrunched his nose, cocking his head to the side with a little smirk. “Oh y’ think you’re so funny.” 

“She isfunny.” Hayden absentmindedly reached for the book out of Gator’s hands as he spoke. You puffed your chest out, victorious. It reminded you of all the times you’d challenge each other to who was Eden’s favorite. It used to be a joke. “Wanna see.” Hayden squirmed, trying to get a view of the pictures from where Gator sat. With a nod, he tried to fit himself in the tiny bed, his legs hanging off the end completely. Your heart just melted seeing it. 

After about three “just one more” stories, and a long few minutes of promising you’d wake him up once his parents got home, the kid finally, finally went to sleep. 

You and Gator collapsed back on the couch with sweet relief. 

“Thank you for coming, Gator. Sorry for ruining your night off.” He shook his head, not saying a word but you could read it in his eyes. He didn’t mind. “You were amazing tonight.” The surprise tinted your tone completely. 

And Gator noticed it, scoffing a little. “I remember Eden’s whole nighttime routine y’know? Like every book we’d read to her.” You jaw tensed hearing that. It was easy to forget just how exhausting a three year old was because you had plenty more years with Eden washing that away. He didn’t. You simply nodded and turned away, unable to keep looking at him. 

Neither of you thought about what happened next. He was reaching for the television remote and flipping through the channels until he landed on a random drama running on the ABC. He stretched his arms with a grunt, placing them on the back of the couch. You couldn’t stop the smile. 

“What?” 

“You are such a dad.” You shook your head. He didn’t say anything, his own smile creeping across his face as you both turned back to the TV. The show droned on — doctors flirting in one room while their patient bled out in the other and you and Gator were laughing along to the nuisance. The peaceful air drifted into your lungs with each deep breath you took and you could smell the cookies in the oven that you used to make the two of you as a reward for getting Eden down.

And it was just when your head lolled back, not quite touching Gator’s arm but close enough to feel its warmth, and yours eyelids felt heavy, that the sound came. Hayden’s shrill shriek tore through the house, snapping you to attention. You turned to Gator, sharing the idea immediately. You’d been through this about a million times at minimum.

“Wanna go for a drive?” His eyes creased up in as close to a smile as his tired face could get.

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The car hummed slowly as the three of you rolled through the quiet streets of Lehigh. It wasn’t even that late, but aside from the seedy criminals and washed out alcoholics, everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their beds. After some whining and protesting, Hayden had finally gone down out of pure boredom. 

As you turned back onto Cory and May’s street, you shifted a little. “Maybe just a little longer? Just to make sure he’s really asleep?” Hayden was almost too old to need the trusty old method, so you knew it would be even harder to get him back in the house without waking him up.

Gator nodded, rolling past their driveway. “He doesn’t have anythin’ on Eden, though. That girl cried so hard, I swear they could hear it across the whole ranch.” 

“Think it was the whole county.” You chuckled, somehow, remembering the torturous nights. The many, many drives just like this one. They felt like the end of the world at the time, and maybe it was wrong, but you were glad that you had someone to go through it with you. 

You swallowed. “You know…I did this with her till she was like seven. I know that’s way too old but there were some nights where she just refused to sleep, and so I’d tell her we were going out on an adventure, put on that… ‘Swan Princess’ CD-”

“It wasn’t a-”

“Yes, I know there were other stories on it but that’s the only one she listened to.” You anticipated the same thing he used to say every time you called it that, in a desperate hope to convince Eden of the same. “I’d just drive her around till the exhaustion washed out the excitement.” You saw Gator’s grip tighten on the wheel. “She used to ask if we were coming back to Lehigh for our adventure. Think the whole thing reminded her of you.” It reminded me too. That might have been the first time you voluntarily offered up how hard it had been without him at first. You weren’t even sure why. It could’ve been this drive reminding you of different times, the repetitive boredom of driving around, or Gator’s vanilla and sandalwood scent hitting your nose, but you were ready to say just about anything. 

Honestly, you were starting to get how babies fell asleep like this. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

16 years old.

“We’re gonna get caught.” You whispered, as Gator squeezed through a hole in the wired fence of the scrapyard. He had called you past midnight, begging you to come out with him because he needed a distraction. Sometimes, he did that unprompted and you never found it in yourself to say no. So you’d slipped out the window and met him at the end of your street. You thought he’d take you to a bar with his fake ID or something. 

“Oh, would ya relax? Live a little.” He reached through the hole, extending a hand to you. With a roll of your eyes, you slapped it away and squeezed through to the other side yourself.

As your feet landed on the dirt, your hand brushed a stack of metal parts, toppling them down. The ding echoed through the night making both of you shit yourselves. You stayed silent for a long moment, waiting to see if anyone ran along. “‘F you’re so careless, ‘course we’re gonna get caught.” He chuckled. Your eyes went wide as he just continued along, confidently walking out into the open air. 

“I’m serious, I’ll never see the light of day again.” You hissed, keeping your feet firmly planted where you stood. 

He didn’t even turn around, a clear mission in mind. “Ok. Go home if you want.” He was bluffing, you knew it. But then, so were you. You looked down to your feet and then back up again. In that time, he vanished. 

“Gator?” Your voice shook, mind immediately racing to the worst outcomes. Had a security guard found him? Or worse, some sort of criminal? “Gator?!” You tried louder, speeding to where he had been just moments ago. As you turned past a stack of crushed up cars, you let out a breath. He was standing in front of a car, a smirk on his face. 

“Aw, you got a little scared ‘bout me?” You rolled your eyes as hard as you could and gave him a light shove. “Don’t worry, I overheard Dad say the security here was awful. Wanted to see ‘f he was right.” Ah. So that’s why he came here. Push the limit simply because he could. “And why was your dad talking about the scrapyard’s security?” You followed him as he shuffled over to another car pulling at all its handles too. Still no luck, getting one to open. 

“I dunno. Some case.” He shrugged, tugging at the backdoor of a car to see if it would open. 

“Don’t tell me we’re on an active crime scene right now!” You squeaked just as Gator managed to find an unlocked car. He pulled open the back door with a triumphant grunt. 

“Nah. Nothin’ like that. ’S a…place o’ interest.” Without another word, he climbed into the backseat, shuffling to leave space for you. “You coming in?” 

You sighed, but didn’t even hesitate for half a second before slipping right in next to him. You shut the door behind you, leaving both of you in the tight air of the dusty old car. You didn’t really mind, especially when his hand brushed yours on the middle seat. 

“Gator?” You turned to him and he only hummed in response. “Why’d you call me here tonight?” Your eyes dropped to the seat, as his pinky crept over yours. Immediately, you felt your stomach flip, cheeks getting warm.

“Wanted to see you,” was all he responded. Though lately, his hands had been doing more of the talking. Always lingering somewhere close, like he was ready to take something he hadn’t even asked for yet.

Something about tonight gave you the confidence you so rarely had to finally just come out with the truth. You leaned a little closer, savoring the feeling of Gator’s hand on yours. “That all you wanted?” 

His lips tugged upwards, a smile appearing on his face for just a second. A real one, not a victorious smirk. His hand slipped away from yours and your heart skipped a beat, thinking that maybe you’d misread everything. And strangely, your thoughts didn’t drift to the fact that you’d never see Gator again after this. That was never going to be a reality. You were only scared that he was going to tease you for flirting with him and that you’d never live it down. 

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand raised into the air to cup your cheek, pulling you even closer until you were basically sharing your breaths. The smile on his face had faded but was replaced with something else. Devotion, you might have called it then.“You are not fucking real.” He breathed. When you looked into his eyes — all blown wide as he slid his thumb along the lines of your face — it was like you could see the entire world there. A world you so desperately wanted to be a part of.

You closed the gap.

And that was all the permission either of you needed. The kiss quickly grew desperate, your mouth opening for him as his hands wandered up and down your body, sending shivers through you. 

When his hands started pulling at your clothes, you let him slip them off. You’d wanted this for so long, but it was terrifying that Gator was going to see you. All of you. You weren’t even sure he was really looking though, his lips painting marks up your neck as he quickly fumbled with his cargos. It was desperate. Like years of waiting had pushed you both over the edge. Needing each other. 

And God, it was awkward and chaotic and yet somehow, beautiful. You’d been in love with this boy since you’d met him, even if you hadn’t realized it back then. So this moment was simply…inevitable. Meant to be. It was like after years of circling this unspoken feeling, you were crashing into the sun. Burning hot and bright and pulling you in far beyond your control. 

But you would gladly let yourself lose control when it was Gator you were doing it with.

And after, in the dark backseat of an abandoned car, the two of you just took each other in. Relieved to be facing a truth that had been hidden for a long time. 

But much like everything else in your life, the moment was taken from you.

You had been so lost in each other, that you hadn’t heard the rumble of a car nearby. Or footsteps approaching. It was only when the white light beamed through the window and onto your faces that you both turned. There, looming above you with his mouth hanging open, was Roy. 

You both rode home in the back of a cop car, Roy going off about Gator’s stupid decision and how he shouldn’t have dragged you down with him. You couldn’t bring yourself to even think about the trouble you were in, stealing glances at Gator every few seconds. You were so exhausted from the night, that your mind began to drift, and you dozed off with your head against the window, daydreaming about what tomorrow meant.

“Dove?” You woke to someone shaking your shoulder. “‘We’re home.” 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Your blinked your eyes open, realizing that voice wasn’t from your memories. “Did I fall asleep?” You rubbed your eyes clear so you could see Gator again. There was a flash as you were coming back into the real world, where the sixteen year old version of him was staring back at you with those same eyes you could see the world in. Your eyes adjusted quickly, noticing you were already back at the ranch. 

“Don’t worry. They didn’t get ya in trouble for sleepin’ on the job.” He handed you a small envelope, with the cash they promised you and you felt your cheeks grow red because he had done half the job for you. You told yourself it was because of that. And not the way your memories had reminded you of a part of Gator you swore to forget. The one that, as you took the envelope out of his hands, and your fingers brushed, caused your stomach to do flips just like back then. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Time in Lehigh seemed to move weirdly. This was a place frozen in the olden days. Technology was like a swear word in these parts that you didn’t dare utter, wives and husbands had a reputation that would be torn to shreds if they dared to step out of line, townsfolk spent their days yearning for the old America on a side of the war that this state wasn’t even fighting.

And yet, since you’d been here, the days had sped by you. You could’ve sworn it was just yesterday that you were pulling into this place, committed to leaving the very next morning. You could’ve sworn it wasn’t a moment ago that you were swearing up and down that Eden would live without remembering what sunset in this town looked like. Well then, how did you end up where you were tonight? 

The clouds stretched tight across the horizon, yellows and oranges bleeding across it beautifully as the sun sunk low in the sky. Eden, to your credit, wasn’t outside watching it, so you guess you could say you won. Except you were the one shifting your car into park and entering the brick building that Lehigh called a rec center. Because tonight was the night of Eden’s play. It had snuck up on you so suddenly, and you were realizing the proposed summer getaway had almost come to an end. 

That meant you had to make your decision soon.

Inside, black plastic chairs were lined neatly on the wood, the main stage a barely raised floor in front of which were tightly drawn red curtains. You scanned the room, eyes settling on Gator right at the front, who had come straight from work. Yes, two months ago, Lehigh and subsequently, Gator, were thoughts that floated in the very depths of your brain. But now, you were sitting in the front row of your daughter’s play together. Jesus Christ, how ridiculously domestic of you. It struck you then that this was the exact way you used to dream your life would be like before you realized what marriage to a Tillman actually meant. And back then, well, you hadn’t exactly imagined another man, sitting on your other side. You kicked yourself the moment you thought it. Another man? This wasn’t just another man, this was Malcolm. Your fiancé. The two of you would attend plenty of Eden’s plays together in the future. Without Gator. And then, looking to your side, seeing Gator’s eyes carefully scan the cheaply made program and quietly point out Eden’s name in the cast list, you were kicking yourself for thinking that. Time moved strangely in Lehigh, but one thing didn’t change. Coming here completely and utterly screwed you over. 

The drawl of the motor curtains opening as they switched off the lights took your attention to the front of the room. You could at least have two hours where you weren’t in your brain, watching your daughter on stage. And out of your brain you were, as they recited old Shakespeare lines that none of you understood. But one thing you did know, was that Eden was amazing. Even when you didn’t understand her words, every single emotion her character was feeling leaped out at you. You dared to sneak a glance to see Gator’s reaction. His eyes were wide, flicking intently from left to right as she moved across the stage. They didn’t move from her once, even following the tiny movements she made with her hands or her feet.

As the play finished, and the cast bowed, everyone began to clap. And it wasn’t quiet, but it sure sounded it when you heard the man next to you. Gator sprung to his feet, clapping his hands so hard they were going red. He was so absorbed in it, not even paying mind to everyone else’s judgemental looks. You’d never seen him glow with so much pride. Over a community play. And then Eden smiled at him, both of them speaking a silent conversation right there. Apologies, promises and everything else flowed between their eyes. You felt like an intruder, watching it unfold. But you weren’t upset. You only had one thought. 

I want to see them like this everyday. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

After the play, Gator, being Gator, had managed to get the keys to the ice cream parlor so the entire cast could have a party there. You raised your eyebrows at his willingness to spend a whole night with a group of sugar high teenagers, but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when Eden was jumping up and down and leaping into his arms in gratitude. 

So it was just you and Malcolm on the way home, the car filled with the energy you just could not contain. The two of you had gone out to dinner and back and you still hadn’t shut up. 

“Wasn’t she amazing?” You almost bounced in your seat, hands flailing.

“She was.” Malcolm chuckled. “But please put your hands back on the wheel, I don’t want to die.”

And just then, the bluetooth in your car rang out. It was Eden. “Speak of the devil.” You smiled as if you were not always speaking of her. You clicked the answer button and let it pick up. At first, you could barely hear Eden over the sound of chatter in the background. “Mom! Hey.” She shouted and you could just about make out her voice. 

“Yeah, hon, why are calling?” Your heart was doing that irrational thing where it started speeding up. She was at an ice cream parlor with a bunch of theatre kids and adult supervision, how much trouble could she get into? 

“No, just- Yeah. I’m asking now.” She turned to someone passing her. Asking what? You prayed it was just something simple like staying out a bit later than curfew. But when had your life been simple? “Everyone wants me back for the winter play!” 

“Winter play?” You and Malcolm let out in unison, so stunned that you almost missed the turn for the ranch. Since when did Stark County have such a vibrant arts scene? 

“Yeah!” Eden continued, completely unbothered. “They said they want me for the lead lead this time!” She squeaked. 

“Well, I don’t know, hon, won’t you have school then?” Away from here, please. 

“The school is like a five minute walk from here. My friends and I can come straight here for the evening.” Malcolm slowly turned to you, eyes widening as he caught up to what she was insinuating. Your heart dropped to your feet. “Mom?” “Yeah, Eden, we’ll talk about it later, ok?” You hung up before she could say anything more. 

You didn’t look at Malcolm, but you could feel his eyes boring into you, betrayal swimming in them. 

“Babe…what is she talking about?” 

You swallowed, already knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. “Malcolm, I had a really nice night tonight. Could we please just keep it that way till we get home?” Not that it mattered. You were already on the property. Like those few minutes would give you time to justify your stupid decision to keep this from him, know how to go about saying that your daughter wanted to stay in this middle-of-nowhere time capsule permanently. Malcolm was not the small town type, and what did that mean for the two of you? The car was quiet for a long moment as the tires rolled through the dirt, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. You looked at it — roof patched over with slightly mismatched tiles, a door that’s knob was far too modern compared to the rest of it. Weird, and wrong, and kind of home.

You turned to Malcolm, who was staring at you but not saying anything quite yet. Good. Silently, you slipped inside and straight up to your room, like the walls could protect you from the mess that you knew was about to unfold. Calmly, you sat yourself on the edge of the bed and looked up to where Malcolm stood, arms crossed. 

“What the hell is going on?” He frowned. 

You closed your eyes for a breath, trying to keep it together. “Eden-“ You exhaled. “Eden wants to stay here. Like, permanently.” 

“And you said no?” He stepped slightly closer. You lack of answer was all the response he needed. He shook his head. “How long have you known?” “Few days now.” 

“What the hell?” He threw his arms out, turning away from you. “We’re engaged, were you expecting me to move here?” “No! Of course not!” You knew that was way too much to ask. 

“So you were expecting us to work long distance then? Or were you just going to cut me out of your life completely?” You furrowed your brows. What did he want you to say? “Answer me!” 

“I didn’t say yes to staying either!” You sprung up, knowing how ridiculous you sounded. “I was only thinking about it because she and Gator asked me to.” 

He exhaled through his nose. “Oh, Gator asked you to.” He shook his head. “And were you going to ask me what I thought?” 

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t. You weren’t going to ask your own fiancé about this major life decision. “I-“ 

“You know I care about Eden too right?” “Of course I do.” 

“So you were just going to take her away from me?” Your lip trembled. Not again. “No.” You breathed. 

“So what was the plan?” You blinked, mouth open but no words falling out. He rolled his eyes at your lack of response. “Did you actually even think about any of this?” He pushed his fingers to his temple, leaning into your face. “God, do you ever think at all?” 

Your chest cracked. “What’s that meant to mean?” “Gee, I don’t know.” He leaned back, the sarcasm dripping in his voice. “You got yourself pregnant at 17, ran away from any stability you had, then when you finally find someone to help you out, you come running back here where nobody wants you. I heard the rumors, and you know what, I’m starting to think they were right. You’re so selfish.” Your heart felt like it was shattering with each syllable. This is why you didn’t want him here. Want him knowing your real life. He was seeing the real you. And when he did, he was just like everyone else. Worst of all, maybe he was right. “Look at you, you’ve got nothing to say. You know I’m right.” He turned away from you again, reaching for his suitcase. No. No, he couldn’t leave. 

“Malcolm, I don’t know why you’re acting like this.” You shakily reached for his arm and he shrugged you off. 

“Because I’ve spent so much time on you.” He shot up so you couldn’t keep crowding his space. “I came all the way here. I neglected my job.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“Oh, and if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have turned to Gator the first chance you got?” He spat.

“Of course not! Are you crazy?” You felt yourself starting to get dizzy at his words. Is that why he came all the way here? To make sure you didn’t cheat on him? And you had dared to think it was because he actually cared about you.

“So what’s going on?”

“I-” You sputtered, brain racing. What were you meant to say? “He’s the father of my child- What do you-”

“But it’s not just that! He’s everywhere I turn! Everything I hear!”

“Well, we haven’t seen him in nine years and we’re living in his home!”

“Yeah! That’s weird. You’re my fiancé. Did you forget that?” He pressed a finger so hard into his chest, you were sure he would bruise it. Your heart was speeding up, beginning to wonder if he’d bruise anything else. “Why is he here? Why is he living with you?” 

Maybe he was right. Maybe you didn’t think. “I don’t- Eden wants to reco-”

“Don’t bullshit me!” 

“I’m not.” 

“You fucked him. Just admit it.”

You choked up at the accusation. Sure, things had been complicated with Gator but never once had you acted on it. The words of the town were now being spouted from the mouth of the one person you thought you could trust. Stupid. Selfish. Slut. “No. We never-”

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t trust you. You’ve been lying to me about everything.” He began storming towards the bedroom door. You should’ve let him take a breath, but you couldn’t. 

“Not everything! I didn’t want to tell you about my parents,” You stepped forward, steering him back inside. “But I never lied about how I feel about us.” You reached for his arm again, turning him to you. “I love you. I want you. I’ve never wanted Gator.” 

“Liar!” There was a loud cracking sound as his fist met the wall. Mere inches from your face. 

And just like that, you were thirteen years old again, watching your mother and father argue.

It never stopped with the wall. 

You choked as if his hand had already found your throat, heart racing a mile a minute. Only one word was able to escape. “Leave.” 

He looked at the hole he has just created, looked at you — frozen in place, trying to keep what little breath you had left. Exhaled, like he was still furious at you. And walked away. 

You heard the front door slam shut but could barely register it over the ringing in your ears. Everything was distant. Your head spun, trying to keep you in this reality. The one where you were fine. You weren’t your mother. And yet, your body seemed to believe the opposite. Your legs gave way, your breaths went short. It was impossible to breathe when your memories had their feet pressed tight on your airway.

The front door opened again, and you heard Eden’s voice calling up. “Don’t mind us! Just popped in to get my purse.” When you didn’t respond, she called out for you. Again and again. You couldn’t say a word, completely lost in the chaos of your own body. Her voice blended into yours, screaming for your mom when you saw your father hit her.

Heavy footfalls came up the stairs and you recognized them even through this state.

Gator’s face was in front of yours. “Hey. ‘S going on?” You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. 

“Mom?” You wanted to respond to Eden’s frantic voice. You wanted to do anything. 

“Are y’- I-” 

“What’s going on? Is she ok? Mom?” 

You heard their voices overlapping but you couldn’t focus on the movements. It was like the world was caving in beneath your feet. It was ending. It was all ending. Thirteen. Shouting. Fists. Your mother on the floor. You swore to yourself never again. 

You swore you wouldn’t let your daughter go through the same thing. Fifteen. You yelling. Your father’s voice drowning it out. The first time he punched you. 

“Need y’ to look at me. Look at me.” Sixteen. Dishes breaking. Blood. You used plastic from then on. It was never going to be ok. You’d fucked it all up. They were still fussing over you. You couldn’t even understand it. Look what you did. You made Eden worry. The more her voice shook, and called for you, the more your heart raced. At some point, Gator yelled something about “Go to your room!” And that just made your heart pound faster. Seventeen. Freedom. Independence. Finding out that no matter where you went, you couldn’t escape the violence. But then you felt a warmth on your arm. Gentle. The feet on your throat loosened a little. “Baby, calm down.” You couldn’t just calm down. “Just…fuck I don’t know. ‘M here.” He kept rubbing up and down your arm, and you tried to focus on the soft touch. Soft. You weren’t breaking. “You’re ok. You’re safe.” It was those words that made the hold finally release and you could breathe again. Slowly, air returned to your lungs. Your surroundings came back into focus. “You with me, Dove?” You nodded, swallowing thickly. He pulled you to your bed, eyebrows pressed together as he studied you like a foreign specimen. Once you were seated, with your head against the board, he hesitantly took his arms off you. “Gonna get you some water. Just…maybe lie down.”

Your voice had finally returned and you only wanted to do one thing. “I’m- I- Gotta apologize to Eden.” You’d already scared her. Not just scared, but scarred.

“Woah, woah.” He held an arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “It’s ok. Y’ can take a second.” His eyes didn’t drift from the wall, jaw tense. “I’ll be back.” Then he left. So you were all alone, staring at the hole made in your wall that was, really, your fault. 

You were back here again — thinking your deluded little fantasies of someone keeping you happy and safe would actually come true. It took you eight years to dare to trust someone again and this is where it landed you. Well, maybe that was the problem. You hadn’t trusted him all the way, had you? All the lies and fights were because of you. The decade you had spent trying to stop your daughter from feeling the same way you used to was all for nothing. She had just watched you fall apart without Malcolm even laying a hand on you. Try as you might, Malcolm was right, you were nothing but a scared little girl who was pretending she knew what she was doing. And Eden just saw through it. You were a failure. 

Just then, you heard a voice from Eden’s room — gruff but low. “‘M sorry.” Gator was…apologizing? Yes, he had done it before. Rarely and usually far too late. “Shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, kiddo.” You slowly stood up, approaching the hall. You were like a newborn gazelle, finding your footing. You rested right near the door, careful not to alert them of your presence. 

“It’s ok.” You heard her voice croak back. She’d been crying. 

“No.” Gator stressed. “I was…scared for your mom, but shouldn’t have made that your problem.” You couldn’t believe how gently he was speaking. How his voice shook when he said he was scared for you. 

“What happened to her?” God, she sounded so broken. 

“Dunno.” He sighed. “We gotta look out for her, yeah?” Your heart clenched when you heard that. 

“No.” You stepped into the room then and they both looked to you like you could break into a thousand pieces. “You don’t have to look out for me. Ok, hon?” You crouched down so you were meeting her eyes where she laid on the bed. “I’m your mom, I look after you.”

“Hey…” Gator tried to interrupt but you wouldn’t let him. 

“I just got a little scared, ok? And I’m really sorry that it scared you too.” She shook her head. “Did Malcolm do that though? Did he hur-“ “No. No, no. I’m fine, hon. Just fine.” You were trying your best to smile. You would rather this than have her patch you up.

She sighed. “Mom-”

“I’m perfect.” You repeated. “Cause I have you.” You kissed the top of her head, praying that would get her to stop asking questions. “And your dad.” You turned to Gator, who only stared at you with a flat face as you took his hand in yours. “He was very good today.” They both gave you half-hearted smiles. “Now, I don’t want to be the one that cut your amazing night short, so do you want to grab that purse you were looking for and get out of here?” She opened her mouth to say something. “Honey, go celebrate. You know what, I’ll even push your curfew back a bit. Sound good?” A slow smile crept across her face and she nodded. 

As Gator sent Eden off with Tom’s mother again, you retreated to the ensuite in your room. Though your panic attack had subsided, your body was still shaky and you weren’t sure you could face anyone that wasn’t family. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink for some stability, as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Obviously, you looked no different. Malcolm hadn’t even made contact with you, so why did your insides feel like they were being torn apart? You were never one to bruise easily, and you always hated that about yourself. It was sick, but there was a part of you that wanted it. Like maybe, if there was proof of the pain, it would make it okay to feel the way you did. And maybe, someone would notice.

“Hey.” You turned to see Gator leaned against the bedroom door, his hair flying loose and falling in front of his eyes. He looked as much of a mess as you felt. “How you feelin’?” You straightened yourself up, exiting out of the bathroom. “Fine.” “Perfect?” He looked accusatorially at you, and you didn’t say a word. “Y’ need to stop lying to her. Everyone.” You rolled your eyes, an exhale escaping from your nose as you sat back down on the bed. You didn’t need a lecture from him about how to deal with this. If he had it his way, he would probably tell her it was fine because you deserved it. His eyes drifted to the hole and he tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I wasn’t. Y’know…good today. Haven’t been.” You looked at his face, guilt swimming in his eyes. That was Roy’s voice you were hearing again. He shuffled in his place at the front door, unable to take his eyes off the hole. “Has that happened before?” 

“No.” You couldn’t help the guilt you felt in your stomach. You were the one that drove him there, weren’t you?

“And your…” He finally ripped his gaze away to look at you. “Reaction?”

Your stomach turned slightly. Telling him about your family was hard enough, but telling him about how pathetically your body reacted to it was another deal. “Uh- It was just a panic attack.”

His eyebrows raised, foot lingering through the doorway. “You’ve had those before?” 

“Oh, yeah. Used to get them a lot a few years ago.”

“When we were together?” You just nodded. At that, his entire face dropped. His foot finally hit the ground with a thud, entering your room again. “How did I never-“

“You weren’t home.” Which is exactly why you got them. Being anywhere near Roy, watching how Nadine became a shell of herself, seeing the reaction after she ran away. He blinked his eyes, like that movement would keep his body together. “Well how do you…I wanna be better next time. How do I help? Teach me how to help.” Next time. You weren’t sure whether it was worse if there was a next time, or the idea that you’d still be here. And you certainly didn’t acknowledge how the thought of having Gator there for you made it feel a bit easier. You simply patted the space next to you on the bed. 

Gator hesitated for half a second, before taking his spot. 

You used to sit like this a lot. His side of the bed and yours apparently still the exact same. You took a deep breath, trying to get the words out. To say this was uncharted territory was an understatement. Where would you start on teaching Gator about your mental health and how to deal with it. “Well, don’t tell me to calm down.” You chuckled. Part of you didn’t want to get to the serious stuff. But Gator nodded, already filing the information somewhere important. “I can struggle to talk sometimes but if you can, get me to try and count backwards from 100 or recite the alphabet.” He quirked his eyebrow. “I know it sounds silly. But when I’m panicking, it feels like I’m going to die. Even though I know I’m not.” Your throat felt thick even thinking about it again. Where you had been not even an hour ago. You were sure if Gator hadn’t seen it, he might be rolling his eyes at you too. “So something like that…sort of grounds you. You know?” You could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t quite understand, but he didn’t question or laugh. “If that doesn’t work, just try to remind me of happy things. And speak. You did…you did a good job. With what you said.” He nodded intently, looking to the side and mouthing the words quietly. It was kind of adorable. As a silence fell over you, you saw his knee shaking on the bed — impatient to ask something else, but not wanting to push. Taking a step back for once. “Yes, Gator?”

“But what can I do to stop it from happenin’?”

You laughed. “You can’t stop it, Gator.”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language. “Yes, you can. If y’know why it happens, just stop it.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was surprising to you that he had even been open to listening to this, so you had to be patient. “When I have a panic attack, it’s cause my body thinks I’m in danger. And a lot of the time, it’s when I remember things that made me scared. So if you find a way for me to forget that stuff, please let me know.” 

Gator’s fist tightened on the sheet. “Wish I knew.” It was said behind a small laugh, like somehow any of this was funny. It split your heart in two. You knew Gator had been through all the same stuff you had. Actually, far worse. But he just carried it, pretending nothing was wrong. So how could he look at everything that happened to you any differently? If you had stayed in that house, and Eden had seen what Roy did. If Gator, even a tiny sliver of him, could be capable of doing the same, you would’ve regretted it far more than leaving, wouldn’t you? “If I could take it all back, I would.” He mumbled it behind a breath, so quiet you almost didn’t hear, but the words themselves were so loud it left your ears ringing. “How everything went down between us.” You turned to face Gator, watching the way his eyes were focused on you — searching, desperate to fix…well, everything. Fix everyone’s pain, fix things with Eden, fix your relationship with him. 

Finally, he was seeing what it had meant for you to live on this ranch. And he was drowning in the thought that he had never noticed. Both of you struggling with the exact same pain, but too stubborn to admit it to each other. You were humiliated that you couldn’t just take it like everyone else you knew, and he was stuck under his father’s thumb. “You ever think…if we lived on our own, we would’ve made it?” Gator vocalized the thought that you had asked him all those years ago. And he’d just laughed. 

“I don’t know, Gator.” Without Roy in your life, perhaps. 

“Like to think we coulda been a family. You, me and Edie.” You could imagine it right now. A family supper that didn’t involve you and Nadine cooking for half of it while Roy sat at the table, picking apart every wrong thing that you two were doing. You not having to choke back tears seeing Nadine’s bruised up face, wondering if tonight would be the night Gator snapped just like every other man in your life. You knowing he’d come back home at all. And when he did, the two of you could just settle on the couch, doing nothing but talking. About Eden’s first day of school, about how your new job was, everything he had missed out on. You could have been honest with each other. You could’ve felt safe. Your chest fluttered at the thought. 

“Yeah.” You breathed, shuffling an inch closer without even meaning to. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, swiping away a tear on your eye. Gently, his fingers moved along your temple, down your eyebrow, past your nose, across your cheekbone. Tracing. “Coulda loved you right.” He whispered. And that was the truth you were reminded of as you listened back to those voicemails — if you could have gone back into the past and changed it, the one thing you would have kept the same was Gator. The first time that you met him, the moments you spent falling in love, when it all caved and you gave in to your feelings. 

Like now.

“Still could.” He let out a shaky breath that fanned over your lips. And then, finally, he closed the gap. And for the first time in nine years, you were kissing Gator Tillman. This time when you kissed him, it was like landing on the moon. He took away the thing that had been weighing you down for your entire life, and made you float. 

He tasted sweeter than he used to. Maybe it was the cookie dough ice cream still lingering on his lips, or maybe it was just him now. But there was still that sharpness underneath, the one that took you right back to your youth. And hungry for more. You shifted closer, your hand coming up to grip his neck as your tongue swiped his lip. He pulled back for a second, eyes searching yours in a silent question. You began to form a nod and his lips were back on yours before you could even stop the movement. And as your tongues slid slowly against each other, Gator couldn’t stop the groan that fell from his lips. His hands slid down your body ever so slowly, electricity shooting from his fingertips as he caressed your neck, your shoulders, your back until they reached your waist. He pulled you towards him softly and you took the opportunity to slide your hands under his shirt. He shivered at your touch, pulling away from you for a second to softly laugh into your neck. 

“Is everything alright?” You whispered, running your hand down his front, subconsciously taking note of every new scar that had formed since the last time you felt it. 

“Never better.” His greedy lips began to explore down your neck as you both shifted so he was leaning over you. He threw his shirt across the room and reached to help you with your top. “Fuck, wow.” He whispered as he took in your newly exposed skin. The look in his eyes made flowers bloom in your stomach, and you pulled him back down, desperately to feel him as close to you as possible. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous. Shit, I can’t believe this is really happenin’.”  The warmth of his skin on yours filled you up in every way possible. Well, almost. He shifted slightly, and you could feel what you really wanted on your thigh. 

“Gator,” You murmured against his lips. “Do you have anything?” 

“Shit.” Your stomach twisted. You were here, and now that you’d tasted his lips again, you wanted it all. Nine years of trying your best to forget the feeling of his hands on you, pushing down the ache that had been sitting deep in your chest forever. Now you were here, and you couldn’t wait a second longer. He moved his hips against you, like that would make you change your mind. And it almost did, but not quite. 

“You remember how we ended up with Eden in the first place, right?” He sighed, knowing your were right, but brought his lips back to yours as he unclasped your bra. He began working his way to your neck, your collarbone, and then, further down. “Gator, what are you-“

“What, like that’s the only thing we can do?” He continued kissing, breaths getting heavier as he approached your thighs. It wasn’t the only thing you could do, and it’s not like Gator hadn’t gone down on you before but, well, he was a teenage boy when your sex life was at its peak, and his main focus was always the same. But right now as he pushed your legs apart, settling himself between them with a hungry look in his eyes, he seemed perfectly content. More so when his tongue actually started exploring, and you both immediately let out a breath at the feeling. Still, you couldn’t help but tease him. “You still need help finding-” You were cut off by your own moan when his lips wrapped around with the perfect suction.

He giggled against your skin. “You gotta be a little quieter than that.” You only pushed your fingers through his messed up hair, and looked at him for a split second and he was leaning back down. You missed him. In any and all ways, and with the way he was devouring you, it seemed the same for him. Between his lips, and his fingers, and him groaning against you, it took you no time to reach the edge, sweating and lost in the feeling as you did. 

“Shit, Gator- Keep going- I’m gonna-” He growled eagerly as you did, working you through it, whispering about how good you tasted. He kept his head resting on your thigh as he watched you come down, mesmerized. 

And when you did, a thought washed over you. You turned, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand and Gator quickly lifted his head up. 

“Did I do somethin’?” His voice was small as he asked but when he spotted what was in your hand, he smiled immediately. Condoms. “Thank fuck.” 

When he snatched the box from you and reached in, he paused and you knew why. The packet was almost completely full. In fact, only one had been used. Which was weird because Malcolm had been here for weeks. Before Gator could ask the question, you pulled him back down to you, tugging at the waistband of his pants to get them down. But the way he sighed as you helped him, compelled you to tell him the truth. You ran your fingertips lightly against his chest, and kept your gaze focused there too. “They didn’t fit him.” You admitted, smelling the pretentious smirk that grew on Gator’s face a mile away. You grabbed his face with both hands, kissing it right off him. And he didn’t complain, opening his mouth to you immediately. He was practically shaking as he ripped the package open and so were you, desperate to feel him again. 

And then you finally did. “Shit, shit, shit.” He breathed hot against your ear as he sunk into you. “Y’ feel so good. So fuckin’ good.” He was right. You never let yourself think of it, but now that he was actually here, you couldn’t believe you got something this perfect. It was like the two of you belonged. He locked his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly like he had to keep checking that you were actually there. You felt your head spinning, less because of his movements but because of the words he couldn’t stop whispering. Against your hair, lips, your neck, 

“I missed y’ so much.”

“You have no idea how long I wanted this.” 

“Thought about you every single day since y’ left.” 

Your heart fluttered with each word. You’d buried it so deep that you hadn’t even realized just how lonely you had been without him. That ache in your stomach that you had simply gotten used to disappeared with each word he whispered, each press of his lips. 

After, breaths heaving, you looked at each other for a long moment. There he was. Your Gator, with the entire world in those eyes. Ever so slowly, he rolled beside you, but never took his arm away, pulling you tight against him, as he peppered more affectionate kisses against your neck. You closed your eyes, pushing back against him so you were even tighter in his hold and he only chuckled. And for once, as the darkness fell over the two of you like a soft blanket, your moment wasn't interrupted by anything else. Not everything was okay, but right now, with Gator next to you, felt like it could be. 

For the past nine years, honestly longer, you had done everything alone. It was your city, your house, your job. Then you came here, and it felt like you were walking into a stranger’s life. This was Gator’s town, Gator’s ranch and Gator’s community. But there was one thing you had always shared, no matter what — Eden. And because of her, this chaotic summer had made everything blur. It wasn’t “mine” or “his” anymore, it was ours. As your hearts beat in time, your eyes quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep. In your shared room. In your shared bed. 

Together. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

For the past few years, you had developed an incredibly bad habit. Sometimes, just sometimes, when you were feeling lonely, you would play your old voicemails back for yourself. All from the same person. The one that spent all of last night holding you in his arms, enveloping you in the comforting scent of sandalwood and vanilla. The same exact cologne he’d worn since he started caring about stuff like that, which was around the time he left you the voicemail you were listening to right now. 

16 years old.

“Hey Dove. Are ya comin’ to Jamie’s house tonight?” The music bumped loudly in the background, Gator’s voice barely audible over the chatter of the sophomore party. “Skip the homework for one night, k? Cause like…’S kinda boring without ya here.” You could imagine him now — head down, probably downing a drink before talking — just as you did when you first heard the voicemail, having knocked out early because you couldn’t stand to see all the fun you were missing out on. More accurately, you didn’t want to see all the fun Gator could have without you. And with many other girls. “Gator! You have to be on my team for beer pong! I’m hopeless without you.” A drunk voice giggled. “I gotta go but…maybe I’ll see you later.”

“Babe.” A hand on yours ripped you from the memory. You quickly composed yourself as you tore out your earphones and turned to Malcolm, who was next to you on the bed. “What are you so invested in listening to first thing in the morning?” He blinked at you with the sweetest sleepy eyes, running his thumb softly against your skin. Your heart sank. What were you doing being stuck in memories that didn’t matter anymore when he was right there?

“Nothing.” You placed your phone on the nightstand and laid back down so you were wrapped in Malcolm’s arms, your head tucked against his chest. Yeah. This was right. When you smiled up at him, he immediately captured your lips in a kiss. One that quickly grew hungry as he rolled over you. His weight pressed you into the mattress, and you were aching desperately. But as you opened your eyes for a split second, your gaze caught the clock. 

“Malcolm.” He didn’t hear you the first time, still kissing down your neck. And you wanted it. Oh, you wanted it bad. But you couldn’t. For many reasons. “Malcolm.” You tried again. This time he hummed in response, but moved his hands down your body as he kept kissing. You didn’t know why your stomach dropped. You pushed him up, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’m going to be late for work.” 

At your words, he sighed and rolled to the side. You hated every part of this. Ever since you’d been here, everything between you had just been…off. You pressed an apologetic kiss to his cheek. “See you tonight, yeah? Love you.” 

“Love you too.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You tried to ignore the suffocating air in the room as you got ready for the day. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Working at Dave’s had taught you a lot about Lehigh. That people here loved routine — same diner, same food, same time everyday. That folks were physically unable to hide the emotions on their faces, gossiping in front of the very people they were talking about. And that gossip was spread the most between old men who disguised their discussion as “concern” for the town. But more than that, it had taught you a lot about a certain man who had now become the head of your town. 

As you were working the floor, Cory walked in, with his wife and little Hayden trailing right behind. You were immediately smiling at the little boy trying his hardest to jump into the vinyl seats of the booth. “Hey Cory.” You smiled, taking out your notepad. You weren’t exactly happy with the man driving Gator home drunk that time, but at least he had looked out for Gator. Which it seemed most of the deputies weren’t doing. 

“Hey!” He broke out into his toothy smile, pulling Hayden up to the seat while the boy grunted in protest. “I didn’t know ya worked here.” 

“Um, yeah.” You blushed, embarrassment flooding through you. “Gotta get a job while I’m here. Bills and all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure if you just went places with Sheriff Tillman, you wouldn’t have t’ pay for a single thing in this town, honestly.” His wife, May, chimed in. She meant no harm but everything in you tensed. First, being reminded that Sheriff Tillman meant Gator now, and the idea of always having his name spoken in the same breath as yours. 

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” You gritted. 

“Hayden, you remember Mr Tillman right?” You couldn’t avoid it. That’s how everyone in this town knew you. It was like the seventeen years of life you’d spent here before that didn’t even matter. 

“Big Tillman or Little Tillman?” Hayden blinked, unassuming. Cory’s cheeks immediately went red at the exposure of what he called the Tillmans behind closed doors and he looked to you with pure fear flashing in his eyes. You only shook your head, because you would never tell Gator that truth. Mostly because you knew how much it would hurt his feelings. 

“Little Tillman.” You answered. “But he’s a much bigger person than his daddy.” You had your problems with him, but that, especially after last night, you could admit. 

“Right.” Cory laughed, cheeks flushing an even deeper red. “Well, this is his-” 

“Friend.” You cut in. Cory and his wife stared at you for a long minute at those words, and you felt your heart sink. “It’s not like he’d understand the truth.” You shrugged. And besides, right now, the two of you were working towards friends.  “What can I get you?” You whipped out your pen, trying to get the eyes off you. But before they could answer, you noticed that Hayden had hopped off the chair and slipped past you onto the crowded diner floor. Now, he was weaving through legs at a speed you didn’t know was possible, and you knew an accident was coming. Immediately, your reflexes kicked in, managing to quickly catch up to him right as he was about to crash into a customer.

You scooped him into your arms, resting him on your hip as he squealed a little in protest but didn’t fight. “Hayden.” You scrunched your eyes as if you were focusing really hard, so he matched your look. “You want to be a super spy, right?” You’d taken note of his James Bond shirt and your shot in the dark had stuck. Hayden nodded aggressively. “Then can we be on a secret mission and stay very still so the villains don’t notice us?” You pointed at a random table, almost feeling bad to rope them into your games. Hayden’s smile grew wide at the thought and he nodded, placing a tiny palm to his mouth to signal his silence. “Sorry about that.” You looked up to the woman who he had almost crashed into and froze when you noticed who it was. 

Beth Marsh. 

The girl that you spent the entirety of high school watching. The girl that you despised because you wanted to figure out how to be her. Floating through this town as if nothing ever bothered her, with far too many friends and even more boyfriends. She was a magnet, loved by parents and kids alike. And you never understood how. 

Right now, she was eyeing you up and down in that familiar scrutinizing glare, but at this point you’d gotten use to the whole town’s eyes doing just the same. Quickly, though, she straightened up, a fake smile coming across her face as she gasped out your name in shock. “I can’t believe it. I heard you were back, but oh my goodness, look at you. You’re so…” She trailed off, clutching tighter to her purse, trying to find the kindest way to describe it. “Different! Like a real city girl.” 

“I mean, Beth, I’m in a bright yellow Dave’s uniform. Don’t know if you can get much more Lehigh than that.” You smiled as best as you could, adjusting Hayden’s position on your hip as he fussed, watching Beth. 

She looked at Hayden’s arms reaching out for her perfectly done hair and took a shocked step back. You could tell she certainly didn’t have a kid yet. “Is this your…youngest?” The pause did all the heavy lifting in that sentence, judgement seeping into the silence. 

“Oh!” You laughed loudly. “Oh, no.” At this point, Hayden was poking your face in boredom so you gave Beth a polite nod. “He’s Cory’s kid over there. Better get him back.” You were half relieved that she wouldn’t have more time to analyze you, and take the gossip back to the same group of girls from school that she was probably still friends with.

But she only trailed behind, still talking your ear off. You swore she didn’t used to be this chatty. “How is your daughter then? Well, I mean she must be happy to see her dad again and have the ranch and all.” You only nodded, trying to pull Hayden off your hip and settle him in the booth, but he was clinging to you. 

“Hayden, don’t run again.” Cory scolded, trying to pry him from your arms. “No, Daddy!” He curled into your shoulder. “Want Mrs Tillman. She’s fun.” All four of you stilled at what he’d called you. 

You swallowed back what felt like something close to tears, and whispered in Hayden’s ear, feigning seriousness. “You remember our mission, right?” Hayden smiled. “Well if you sit down with Daddy, mission control might send you a secret surprise food.”

“What kind of surprise?” He pulled back, pushing his eyebrows together and looking at you.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it?” He looked at you for a long moment, chewing on his lip before nodding, and settling next to Cory again.

“Thank you.” Cory whispered out in relief. “You’re really good with him.” You shrugged. “Practice. This is the age where you have to turn everything into a game.” You could remember all the ones you had to play with Eden to get her to do basic things. “They wanna do everything on their own too, even though they can’t.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, well.” May smiled fondly to Cory, shaking his shoulder. “Sometimes that never changes.” 

“Amen.” Beth added, and you were reminded of her presence. “My husband, Andy, is just the same. They can be so stubborn sometimes.”

It took everything in you to stifle your gasp. “Andy? Like Andy from the marching band?” Surely you were mistaken. As cruel as it was, you had always thought that she would marry one of the footballers. Honestly, before you got pregnant, you were sure of exactly which one it would be too. But you were discovering again and again that people could surprise you. And how many irrational judgements you kept jumping to. 

Beth nodded, the pride radiating off her. “He helped me with car trouble a few years back and well…comin’ up on two years o’ marriage now.” She didn’t even hesitate to pull out her phone and start showing you pictures. Despite not being able to wrap your head around it, they truly did look like the happiest family. So did Cory, May and Hayden. Sometimes, it felt like it was just you who couldn’t get it right. 

“I always thought it’d be you and Gator.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You don’t know what you expected any of them to say but it wasn’t the reaction you ended up getting. 

“Gator?” Beth gasped out a laugh. The three of them exchanged a look like they were best friends who were sharing some intimate inside joke, and broke into laughter almost in unison. There was a good few seconds where you just stood there, completely lost as they kept sputtering out chuckles like they were in disbelief. “Honey,” Beth finally spoke. “’S a well known fact around here that no woman is gettin’ anywhere near that one.” You knew why you wouldn’t, but to everyone else in this town, most of that stuff was normal. And it hadn’t stopped anyone in high school. 

“Why?” You cocked your head to the side. There was silence for a moment, and they all just stared at you. And those looks were the silent answer that you’d never thought you’d hear. You. Actually, technically, you still hadn’t heard it, which is why you were able to quickly send Beth off to a table and take Cory’s order as if the thought that Gator Tillman — the Gator Tillman, who could have anyone he wanted — hadn’t talked to another woman in nine years wasn’t going to haunt you forever. 

You broke right back into your useless habit that very shift, hiding out in the kitchen as you played the next voicemail in the loop. 

16 years old.  

“Know your probably grounded for the whole sneaking out to the scrapyard thing but…I just…” He sighed dramatically. “Look, y’ know I’m not good with words but- I don’t know, I mean, last night felt kinda…Like, it just hit me that maybe that was your first time, and I really wish I made it-” He took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his wavering voice. “Ok, I’m just gonna say it. Know we’ve been friends for a long time, but last night felt right to me. And I think- I’d like to do it again, ‘f you’d like to do it again. Or we could just…forget about it. It’s totally up to you, y’know? I don’t care- I mean, I do but I just- I want us to be good- I-” His distinct, dramatic gulp echoed through the speaker. “…Call me back when y’ can.” That one always made you blush, that same feeling of butterflies flitting in your stomach. He sounded so flustered and you knew he only got that way when he actually cared about something. He told you once, later, that he was always amazing at being confident when he had to lie but telling the truth was a lot harder. You never asked about it again, but you always noticed it, because Gator was almost always lying, even when he wasn’t aware of it. 

A whistle from inside the diner grabbed your attention and you quickly snapped up, stuffing your phone in your pocket. Jessica walked over, her teeth flashing bright against her red lipstick. “You’ve got customers askin’ after you.” She nodded towards Cory’s family, who had finished up their meal and the special curly fries you’d given Hayden as his reward. What you forgot about this town is, that just as quickly as people spread around rumours and secrets that turned everyone against you, people became friends instantly too. “Thanks.” But just as you were about to step away, you paused. “Hey, can I ask you something?” She smiled back at you, so sweet in that way you knew would melt any man. Which is why you couldn’t stop your curiosity. “When we were here on the fourth- Well, Gator must come here often-“ No matter how much you were embarrassing yourself, you simply had to know. What you’d heard earlier simply couldn’t be true. “I guess I’m asking, have you two ever-“ Jessica cut you off with the same exact laugh that the others had let out. 

“Don’t have to worry ‘bout me. Or anyone really.” Your entire body released and tensed in one. She gave you a smug smirk. “Guess Dave owes me twenty bucks.” “What?” 

“We had a bet runnin’ how long it’d take you guys to patch it up. Seein’ as well…” She indicated between the two of you. “And your shiny ring is gone. So I won!” With a triumphant giggle, she turned away before you could argue and you were left with your head absolutely spinning. You glanced down at your hand and suddenly remembered something. Your ring against the formica of your mother’s kitchen counter. Was it awful that you knew you weren’t bringing it back? 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The car engine hummed quietly as you drove home after your shift. Cory and May had practically begged you to babysit Hayden tomorrow so they could have the night out. You couldn’t say no to the extra money, and besides, you were kind of happy to help. You could see it in their eyes — the sleepless nights, no rest, no peace. You remembered what that baby phase felt like. Even before the baby was born. Coincidentally, you were reliving it right now. Because instead of some music for the drive home, the bluetooth in the car was playing Gator’s 17 year old voice. 

“Hi.” There was an extended beat of silence. “I…Running away earlier probably wasn’t the best move. It’s just…Shit. It’s a lot.” He exhaled loudly. “I dunno if you told your parents yet, but, you should come over for dinner with Dad. We can talk proper then.” He chuckled. “I mean, hell, this woulda happened anyway, right? It was always gonna be you. ’S just…early. I’ll see you tonight.” 

You remembered every bit of that dinner.You’d attempted to have the discussion with your mother earlier in the day so that at least she would be there. It wasn’t an hour later that your father was storming home from work, screaming the house down. You had managed to lock yourself in your room and snuck out the window so you could make it to the ranch. Alone. That’s when you really thought about the fact that you pretty much did everything in that house alone. And even if you did get rid of the kid, like your dad wanted, things were never going to be okay between the three of you. It probably never had been. So when Roy had offered you a comfortable home, the security of being a Tillman, and Gator had looked at you with those hopeful eyes as he squeezed your hand, how could you say no? You thought you’d have a support system. You thought you’d have that ever elusive thing called a family. And the first few years, however stressful they were, had really felt like that. 

You pressed the play button on the next voicemail as you turned down the street that lead to the ranch. 

19 years old.

“Hey, baby. Tried y’ a few times. You showerin’ Eden?” That was about a three hour task. “Listen, don’t hate me, but I forgot watcha wanted me to buy. I’ve got…” You heard the rattle of him pushing around thing in a shopping cart as he listed off the extensive amount of food he’d gotten. Eden had been in that time where she was incredibly picky about the food she ate, and her tastes changed every hour. “Oh! And I found a paint set here for a bargain. The mantle could use a nice decoration y’know, maybe you can start that on the weekend? Anyways, I know it was somethin’ for Edie but I ran over the list in my head a hundred times and I can’t remember. Don’t start with me on writin’ it down again, this is a one time thing, okay?”

You laughed now, hearing his incredulous tone. Gator used to be a very focused person. He got given a task and he was after that goal and that goal only. But when it came to Eden, he became something else entirely. The first time you had gone shopping before you even had her, he had practically cleared out the baby aisle, claiming you wouldn’t know what she’d be interested in so it was better to be safe than sorry. And though he wouldn’t tell another soul this, he used to be the one to pick out Eden’s clothes, claiming that that pink onesie would look perfect on her and this yellow dress would be great for church. It had gotten to the point where you had to ban him from going shopping so he wouldn’t blow all his money on spoiling her rotten.

You hadn’t noticed how hard you were smiling as you thought about it until you opened the front door, and it dropped. There, in the living room, sat Gator and Eden, across from Roy’s brother John, Karen, and a man and woman in suits that you didn’t recognize. Office types. Lawyers. 

As you shut the door behind you, they all turned at the sound. Worse than seeing these people here was seeing the looks on each of their faces. Karen and John shared that same knowing smile while Gator and Eden looked distraught. “What’s going on?” You asked, moving to sit on the arm of Gator’s seat. Your breath stilled as he began to explain that Karen and John were here with their lawyer because the contesting claim was officially being taken to court. The woman was someone Gator had hired, because, regardless of your feelings, you still needed a lawyer to get through this process. And for the millionth time since you’d been here, you were thinking about how much you despised Roy for putting you in this position. For years, you thought you would never see this place again, and then you did. And now, it did feel a little strange that this home, that Gator and Eden had spent the last month fixing together, was now going to vanish from view again. As the the group got up to leave, Karen turned to you with a snarl. “I’m gonna tear this place down, anyways, don’t get too attached.” 

“Ok.” You shrugged, pretending not to notice Gator’s exhale at your words. You didn’t care about this house anymore. You didn’t. You didn’t. You didn’t. As the lawyer lady began to talk about what the next steps were, you excused yourself to make some coffee for everyone. It was much easier to focus your energy on that than the way your body was being torn in two directions. You served the coffee, then began to sweep the house, organize the shoes at the front door, head upstairs and start scrubbing the bathrooms. Anything but think about how your family was going to be changed after this. Anything but wonder what Eden was going to decide to do. 

You didn’t need to wonder. 

Once the lawyer had left, you returned downstairs. Gator and Eden, of course,  both had a look in their eyes. One that told you everything. Even before Eden cleared her throat. “Mom?” She fiddled her thumbs. “Can we please talk?” You cautiously seated yourself across from them, swallowing. You were going to have to talk about this eventually. Eden glanced to Gator for a moment and he nodded encouragingly, hope sparkling in his eyes as he clutched onto some sort of paper in his hands. “I want to stay.” She said, straightening up. 

You took a deep breath, trying not to explode. “Ok, I know it’s nice having Gator here, but what about all your friends in Chicago? And you’re about to start high school, you already had everything prepared.” 

“Exactly. I’ve made friends here and I have Tom. Only Will would have gone to the same school as me.” She was already using past tense, like Chicago was some distant memory. Like all those years you’d worked your ass off to get her away from this town’s problems meant nothing. “And I can always call or text them.”

“And have ‘em over whenever she wants.” Gator added. You shrunk further back into your seat. 

“I get that. I do. But…this is a huge decision. What about our house? I have a job to think about.” You and Gator made eye contact then, your skin burning at the lie he could see right through. The worst thing was, you expected him to look at you with that stupid, self-satisfied glint in his eye. And sure, there was a hint of that. But mostly, it was pity.

“I know, Mom. But maybe you could get a transfer? And Dad promised he’d fix the WiFi so you could work remotely.” Your stomach dropped. They’d talked about this. Spent God-knows-how-long bonding over how stubborn Mom was being. You were trying to be rational, but your desire to leave was seeming purely selfish the more Eden and Gator began to gang up on you. You were starting to feel like a child, throwing a fit because things weren’t happening exactly how you wanted. 

And they were doing it again — looking at you with those eyes. At this point, you were sure the pair of them could convince a saint to kill someone. Well, knowing the Tillmans, Gator might have already done that. Which is why you didn’t want Eden here. Although, in all the time you’d been here, you hadn’t heard or seen Gator committing half the crimes Roy did. What would Eden even find if she inherited this land? And there was still the matter of if she would inherit this land. “Karen and the court case?” “I’m payin’ for the whole thing. And besides, the lawyer said their case was real weak.” So everything was pretty much up to you. Great. 

Staying here meant at least four more years of townsfolk whispering, and facing people you thought you’d put far in your past, And worst of all, risking Eden seeing everything that made Lehigh the hellhole you’d been trying to run away from. Gator was fine for now, but what if it was all an act to get Eden back here? What if he became the monster that you always feared? And Malcolm? What about the wedding? The house you dreamed of? With him, there was none of this uncertainty. With him, it was the stability you’d never had here. 

But if you left, what happened? As much as you hated to admit it, this visit had changed things. Gator and Eden were becoming the father and daughter that they once were. Something you hadn’t realized you missed until you came back here. You hadn’t seen her glowing this bright in a long time. And the thought of this house being torn down did sting. You glanced behind you to the mantle. On top of it, sat your painting of the old scrapyard.

“I’ll think about it.” You pursed your lips, fists balling into the fabric of your uniform. 

“Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mom. I love you.” After Eden gave you a big hug, and an even bigger kiss in gratitude, she rushed up the stairs to call Tom. 

You and Gator just stared at each other, the quiet wrapping tight around your throat. Choking. “What’s that?” You nodded to the envelope still held in his hands, trying to stop the pulsing in your head. “Uh, letter from my dad. Apparently, it got lost with…everything goin’ on.” You couldn’t distract yourself for more than a moment, because it led back to the same thing. The thing that was splitting you in two. “I-“ Gator finally spoke, eyes focused on his own hands as he wrung them back and forth. “It’s nothin’ personal, Dove. Just think it’s what’s best for Eden.”

You look down at your hands, picking at your nails. “I know.”

That made it so much worse. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

That night, you all ate dinner in a searing silence, Malcolm absolutely ignorant to it. He kept talking about a new client of his and you all nodded response, because it was much easier than acknowledging your issues. You didn’t look Gator in the eyes, Eden didn’t look at you, and Gator pretended his food was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Malcolm threw his fork down in frustration. “None of you have said a word for ten minutes, and that is very rare.” He nudged Eden jokingly. 

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong, Malcolm. Don’t be silly.” He didn’t need to hear about any of it until you made your decision. There was no point in more people worrying about things that might not even happen. The other two hummed in affirmation. 

At least you could agree on one thing. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The next night, you went over to Cory’s house, bags packed with some old toys of Eden’s, that actually belonged to Gator once upon a time. Some wooden cars that he had kept in his room even as a teenager. You always used to tease him about that, though you secretly loved that he had that hidden sentimental side. And though he initially protested that those were “boy’s toys,” when he had seen Eden playing with them, he had just about melted. 

Cory and May began ranting at you manically, checking of Hayden’s routines, allergies, likes, dislikes and everything between. You couldn’t help but smile at the way they were basically shivering as they said goodbye to Hayden. The desperation of wanting peace for a night but being terrified of leaving their kid with a stranger was something all too familiar to you. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

22 years old. 

You inspected yourself in the mirror, tucking back a strand of loose hair. Your eyes were slightly puffy and you hadn’t even started your night shift yet. You had to do good. You couldn’t afford another day without money. The emergency cash you’d snatched from Gator’s safe was shrinking and you were starting to doubt that you could do this. But you were in too deep now. 

“Ok.” You turned to the babysitter, attempting to shake away the nervous energy. “Her bedtime’s at 8, so after that you shouldn’t have many problems, just keep an ear out. Sometimes, she wants to sleep in my room. Just let her if she asks, for tonight.” The babysitter nodded along to your nervous ranting. “Dinner’s on the table. If you’re still hungry, take anything from the cupboards, though there’s not that much. Sorry. She was a bit sick last week so give her the cough medicine if she needs it.” You glanced to Eden, who was playing with some Barbies on the floor, blissfully unaware of the way your gut was twisting inside you. “Maybe I should stay.” You sighed. You had never left her alone at night before. Actually, you’d never used a babysitter before at all.

“Relax.” The woman smiled. “I’ve got it.” You had to trust her.

You crouched down next to Eden. “Honey, I’m going out for a bit, ok?”

“Is Daddy gonna come?”

“No, baby. Amy here is going to take care of you. Be good for me, yeah?” She nodded, still just playing with her Barbies. “I love you so much, ok hon?” You kissed her cheek. 

“Ok. Bye Mommy.” 

You were shaking as you shut the door behind you. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Eden made it through that night, and plenty of other just like it until you got a better job. “You know, kids are a lot tougher than you think.” You tried to give them a little comfort. 

Cory smiled as they stepped out of the door. “I used to freak out cause the kid wouldn’t sleep properly. And that’s exactly what the sheriff said t’ me.” 

He left you with those words that made your gut twist. 

You wondered how much it stung for Gator. To be around kids, and give others advice when he hadn’t seen his own child in years. You couldn’t imagine a day going by without Eden by your side, and you were struggling with the slightest distance she was currently putting between you. You understood her completely. They wanted to know each other again. And everything in you was sorry that you had to take them away from each other. You didn’t regret your decision, but you wished it didn’t have to hurt in so many ways. 

Still, you had to remind yourself that staying would have stung a lot more. 

Once you’d fed Hayden his dinner, he wanted to play on his own in the living room. So you settled yourself back on the sofa, watching carefully, but placing an earphone in. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The next few were all from the same time. The night you left. Eden in the backseat, your phone ringing again and again till you had to mute it. You didn’t call him back for over a month, because you knew you’d give up and turn around at the sound of his voice. 

22 years old. 

“Dove? What the fuck is this? Y’ can’t be serious.” You could hear him rummaging through the house, like you were just playing hide and seek and he’d find you hidden behind some cupboard or under the bed. 

“Answer your damn phone, woman! You’re being ridiculous. You can’t just take my daughter and leave!” 

“Ok, I don’t know what sort of temper tantrum you’re havin', but you need to come back here right fuckin’ now. You stole my damn car, I can find you, y’know? Dad can find you.” That last sentence sounded far more like a warning than a threat. 

In the next one, his voice was shaking, deafeningly quiet compare to the rest. “Seriously, baby, just come home, ok? We can- We can work out whatever this is. Together. I won’t even be mad. Just don’t take my family away from me.” 

Hayden’s scream tore you right back into reality. He was furious because one of Gator’s wooden firetrucks was missing the ladder and his fireman couldn’t reach the top of the dollhouse. You distinctly remembered seeing it when you were gathering the toys, but you’d dragged them from Eden’s closet all the way downstairs in your hands, so maybe it had fallen.

You hadn’t been around a little child in a long time, and you made the biggest mistake possible. You told the truth. “Oh, I must’ve left it at home.” You murmured. But that was enough. Hayden began demanding that you go get it. You tried everything. You offered him other toys, tried to bribe him with ice cream, told him it didn’t matter because it was time to get ready for bed. But he was dead set on getting that ladder. How was the cat meant to be rescued otherwise? And when you took it off the house and started packing down the toys, he began crying about how you wanted the cat to get hurt and you were mean. You ran around for almost an hour, trying to find something to calm him down.

And eventually, you relented. It was way past his bedtime, and you just needed to get him to sleep. But he refused until that cat came down the right way. You pulled out your phone, dialing the last person you wanted to, but the only one you could.

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The knock came fifteen minutes later.

Gator took one look at you and raised his eyebrows. “Fun night?” 

“The funnest.” You sighed, stepping back so he could enter. 

“Hey, kid.” He crouched next to Hayden. “Got a little surprise for ya.” When he pulled out the little wooden ladder, Hayden jumped, snatching it from his hand immediately. And when he’d got that goddamned little cat down, you and Gator let out the same breath of relief. “‘K bud, you gonna go to sleep now?” Hayden nodded, a satisfied grin on his face. You got up, ready to help him to sleep but Gator pushed you back down to the couch. “I got it.” You let him take the lead but still followed, because, well, even then, you had done most of the nighttime routines and actually taking care of Eden. Especially if he, at any point, knew Roy was around. But surprisingly, he was incredibly good. Teeth brushed, pajamas changed, and soon enough, Hayden was settled in bed, begging Gator to read a bedtime story. 

As he picked out one of Hayden’s picture book, you couldn’t stop yourself. “You sure that one’s not too big for you?” 

He only scrunched his nose, cocking his head to the side with a little smirk. “Oh y’ think you’re so funny.” 

“She isfunny.” Hayden absentmindedly reached for the book out of Gator’s hands as he spoke. You puffed your chest out, victorious. It reminded you of all the times you’d challenge each other to who was Eden’s favorite. It used to be a joke. “Wanna see.” Hayden squirmed, trying to get a view of the pictures from where Gator sat. With a nod, he tried to fit himself in the tiny bed, his legs hanging off the end completely. Your heart just melted seeing it. 

After about three “just one more” stories, and a long few minutes of promising you’d wake him up once his parents got home, the kid finally, finally went to sleep. 

You and Gator collapsed back on the couch with sweet relief. 

“Thank you for coming, Gator. Sorry for ruining your night off.” He shook his head, not saying a word but you could read it in his eyes. He didn’t mind. “You were amazing tonight.” The surprise tinted your tone completely. 

And Gator noticed it, scoffing a little. “I remember Eden’s whole nighttime routine y’know? Like every book we’d read to her.” You jaw tensed hearing that. It was easy to forget just how exhausting a three year old was because you had plenty more years with Eden washing that away. He didn’t. You simply nodded and turned away, unable to keep looking at him. 

Neither of you thought about what happened next. He was reaching for the television remote and flipping through the channels until he landed on a random drama running on the ABC. He stretched his arms with a grunt, placing them on the back of the couch. You couldn’t stop the smile. 

“What?” 

“You are such a dad.” You shook your head. He didn’t say anything, his own smile creeping across his face as you both turned back to the TV. The show droned on — doctors flirting in one room while their patient bled out in the other and you and Gator were laughing along to the nuisance. The peaceful air drifted into your lungs with each deep breath you took and you could smell the cookies in the oven that you used to make the two of you as a reward for getting Eden down.

And it was just when your head lolled back, not quite touching Gator’s arm but close enough to feel its warmth, and yours eyelids felt heavy, that the sound came. Hayden’s shrill shriek tore through the house, snapping you to attention. You turned to Gator, sharing the idea immediately. You’d been through this about a million times at minimum.

“Wanna go for a drive?” His eyes creased up in as close to a smile as his tired face could get.

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

The car hummed slowly as the three of you rolled through the quiet streets of Lehigh. It wasn’t even that late, but aside from the seedy criminals and washed out alcoholics, everyone was tucked away safe and sound in their beds. After some whining and protesting, Hayden had finally gone down out of pure boredom. 

As you turned back onto Cory and May’s street, you shifted a little. “Maybe just a little longer? Just to make sure he’s really asleep?” Hayden was almost too old to need the trusty old method, so you knew it would be even harder to get him back in the house without waking him up.

Gator nodded, rolling past their driveway. “He doesn’t have anythin’ on Eden, though. That girl cried so hard, I swear they could hear it across the whole ranch.” 

“Think it was the whole county.” You chuckled, somehow, remembering the torturous nights. The many, many drives just like this one. They felt like the end of the world at the time, and maybe it was wrong, but you were glad that you had someone to go through it with you. 

You swallowed. “You know…I did this with her till she was like seven. I know that’s way too old but there were some nights where she just refused to sleep, and so I’d tell her we were going out on an adventure, put on that… ‘Swan Princess’ CD-”

“It wasn’t a-”

“Yes, I know there were other stories on it but that’s the only one she listened to.” You anticipated the same thing he used to say every time you called it that, in a desperate hope to convince Eden of the same. “I’d just drive her around till the exhaustion washed out the excitement.” You saw Gator’s grip tighten on the wheel. “She used to ask if we were coming back to Lehigh for our adventure. Think the whole thing reminded her of you.” It reminded me too. That might have been the first time you voluntarily offered up how hard it had been without him at first. You weren’t even sure why. It could’ve been this drive reminding you of different times, the repetitive boredom of driving around, or Gator’s vanilla and sandalwood scent hitting your nose, but you were ready to say just about anything. 

Honestly, you were starting to get how babies fell asleep like this. 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

16 years old.

“We’re gonna get caught.” You whispered, as Gator squeezed through a hole in the wired fence of the scrapyard. He had called you past midnight, begging you to come out with him because he needed a distraction. Sometimes, he did that unprompted and you never found it in yourself to say no. So you’d slipped out the window and met him at the end of your street. You thought he’d take you to a bar with his fake ID or something. 

“Oh, would ya relax? Live a little.” He reached through the hole, extending a hand to you. With a roll of your eyes, you slapped it away and squeezed through to the other side yourself.

As your feet landed on the dirt, your hand brushed a stack of metal parts, toppling them down. The ding echoed through the night making both of you shit yourselves. You stayed silent for a long moment, waiting to see if anyone ran along. “‘F you’re so careless, ‘course we’re gonna get caught.” He chuckled. Your eyes went wide as he just continued along, confidently walking out into the open air. 

“I’m serious, I’ll never see the light of day again.” You hissed, keeping your feet firmly planted where you stood. 

He didn’t even turn around, a clear mission in mind. “Ok. Go home if you want.” He was bluffing, you knew it. But then, so were you. You looked down to your feet and then back up again. In that time, he vanished. 

“Gator?” Your voice shook, mind immediately racing to the worst outcomes. Had a security guard found him? Or worse, some sort of criminal? “Gator?!” You tried louder, speeding to where he had been just moments ago. As you turned past a stack of crushed up cars, you let out a breath. He was standing in front of a car, a smirk on his face. 

“Aw, you got a little scared ‘bout me?” You rolled your eyes as hard as you could and gave him a light shove. “Don’t worry, I overheard Dad say the security here was awful. Wanted to see ‘f he was right.” Ah. So that’s why he came here. Push the limit simply because he could. “And why was your dad talking about the scrapyard’s security?” You followed him as he shuffled over to another car pulling at all its handles too. Still no luck, getting one to open. 

“I dunno. Some case.” He shrugged, tugging at the backdoor of a car to see if it would open. 

“Don’t tell me we’re on an active crime scene right now!” You squeaked just as Gator managed to find an unlocked car. He pulled open the back door with a triumphant grunt. 

“Nah. Nothin’ like that. ’S a…place o’ interest.” Without another word, he climbed into the backseat, shuffling to leave space for you. “You coming in?” 

You sighed, but didn’t even hesitate for half a second before slipping right in next to him. You shut the door behind you, leaving both of you in the tight air of the dusty old car. You didn’t really mind, especially when his hand brushed yours on the middle seat. 

“Gator?” You turned to him and he only hummed in response. “Why’d you call me here tonight?” Your eyes dropped to the seat, as his pinky crept over yours. Immediately, you felt your stomach flip, cheeks getting warm.

“Wanted to see you,” was all he responded. Though lately, his hands had been doing more of the talking. Always lingering somewhere close, like he was ready to take something he hadn’t even asked for yet.

Something about tonight gave you the confidence you so rarely had to finally just come out with the truth. You leaned a little closer, savoring the feeling of Gator’s hand on yours. “That all you wanted?” 

His lips tugged upwards, a smile appearing on his face for just a second. A real one, not a victorious smirk. His hand slipped away from yours and your heart skipped a beat, thinking that maybe you’d misread everything. And strangely, your thoughts didn’t drift to the fact that you’d never see Gator again after this. That was never going to be a reality. You were only scared that he was going to tease you for flirting with him and that you’d never live it down. 

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand raised into the air to cup your cheek, pulling you even closer until you were basically sharing your breaths. The smile on his face had faded but was replaced with something else. Devotion, you might have called it then.“You are not fucking real.” He breathed. When you looked into his eyes — all blown wide as he slid his thumb along the lines of your face — it was like you could see the entire world there. A world you so desperately wanted to be a part of.

You closed the gap.

And that was all the permission either of you needed. The kiss quickly grew desperate, your mouth opening for him as his hands wandered up and down your body, sending shivers through you. 

When his hands started pulling at your clothes, you let him slip them off. You’d wanted this for so long, but it was terrifying that Gator was going to see you. All of you. You weren’t even sure he was really looking though, his lips painting marks up your neck as he quickly fumbled with his cargos. It was desperate. Like years of waiting had pushed you both over the edge. Needing each other. 

And God, it was awkward and chaotic and yet somehow, beautiful. You’d been in love with this boy since you’d met him, even if you hadn’t realized it back then. So this moment was simply…inevitable. Meant to be. It was like after years of circling this unspoken feeling, you were crashing into the sun. Burning hot and bright and pulling you in far beyond your control. 

But you would gladly let yourself lose control when it was Gator you were doing it with.

And after, in the dark backseat of an abandoned car, the two of you just took each other in. Relieved to be facing a truth that had been hidden for a long time. 

But much like everything else in your life, the moment was taken from you.

You had been so lost in each other, that you hadn’t heard the rumble of a car nearby. Or footsteps approaching. It was only when the white light beamed through the window and onto your faces that you both turned. There, looming above you with his mouth hanging open, was Roy. 

You both rode home in the back of a cop car, Roy going off about Gator’s stupid decision and how he shouldn’t have dragged you down with him. You couldn’t bring yourself to even think about the trouble you were in, stealing glances at Gator every few seconds. You were so exhausted from the night, that your mind began to drift, and you dozed off with your head against the window, daydreaming about what tomorrow meant.

“Dove?” You woke to someone shaking your shoulder. “‘We’re home.” 

⋆.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Your blinked your eyes open, realizing that voice wasn’t from your memories. “Did I fall asleep?” You rubbed your eyes clear so you could see Gator again. There was a flash as you were coming back into the real world, where the sixteen year old version of him was staring back at you with those same eyes you could see the world in. Your eyes adjusted quickly, noticing you were already back at the ranch. 

“Don’t worry. They didn’t get ya in trouble for sleepin’ on the job.” He handed you a small envelope, with the cash they promised you and you felt your cheeks grow red because he had done half the job for you. You told yourself it was because of that. And not the way your memories had reminded you of a part of Gator you swore to forget. The one that, as you took the envelope out of his hands, and your fingers brushed, caused your stomach to do flips just like back then. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

Time in Lehigh seemed to move weirdly. This was a place frozen in the olden days. Technology was like a swear word in these parts that you didn’t dare utter, wives and husbands had a reputation that would be torn to shreds if they dared to step out of line, townsfolk spent their days yearning for the old America on a side of the war that this state wasn’t even fighting.

And yet, since you’d been here, the days had sped by you. You could’ve sworn it was just yesterday that you were pulling into this place, committed to leaving the very next morning. You could’ve sworn it wasn’t a moment ago that you were swearing up and down that Eden would live without remembering what sunset in this town looked like. Well then, how did you end up where you were tonight? 

The clouds stretched tight across the horizon, yellows and oranges bleeding across it beautifully as the sun sunk low in the sky. Eden, to your credit, wasn’t outside watching it, so you guess you could say you won. Except you were the one shifting your car into park and entering the brick building that Lehigh called a rec center. Because tonight was the night of Eden’s play. It had snuck up on you so suddenly, and you were realizing the proposed summer getaway had almost come to an end. 

That meant you had to make your decision soon.

Inside, black plastic chairs were lined neatly on the wood, the main stage a barely raised floor in front of which were tightly drawn red curtains. You scanned the room, eyes settling on Gator right at the front, who had come straight from work. Yes, two months ago, Lehigh and subsequently, Gator, were thoughts that floated in the very depths of your brain. But now, you were sitting in the front row of your daughter’s play together. Jesus Christ, how ridiculously domestic of you. It struck you then that this was the exact way you used to dream your life would be like before you realized what marriage to a Tillman actually meant. And back then, well, you hadn’t exactly imagined another man, sitting on your other side. You kicked yourself the moment you thought it. Another man? This wasn’t just another man, this was Malcolm. Your fiancé. The two of you would attend plenty of Eden’s plays together in the future. Without Gator. And then, looking to your side, seeing Gator’s eyes carefully scan the cheaply made program and quietly point out Eden’s name in the cast list, you were kicking yourself for thinking that. Time moved strangely in Lehigh, but one thing didn’t change. Coming here completely and utterly screwed you over. 

The drawl of the motor curtains opening as they switched off the lights took your attention to the front of the room. You could at least have two hours where you weren’t in your brain, watching your daughter on stage. And out of your brain you were, as they recited old Shakespeare lines that none of you understood. But one thing you did know, was that Eden was amazing. Even when you didn’t understand her words, every single emotion her character was feeling leaped out at you. You dared to sneak a glance to see Gator’s reaction. His eyes were wide, flicking intently from left to right as she moved across the stage. They didn’t move from her once, even following the tiny movements she made with her hands or her feet.

As the play finished, and the cast bowed, everyone began to clap. And it wasn’t quiet, but it sure sounded it when you heard the man next to you. Gator sprung to his feet, clapping his hands so hard they were going red. He was so absorbed in it, not even paying mind to everyone else’s judgemental looks. You’d never seen him glow with so much pride. Over a community play. And then Eden smiled at him, both of them speaking a silent conversation right there. Apologies, promises and everything else flowed between their eyes. You felt like an intruder, watching it unfold. But you weren’t upset. You only had one thought. 

I want to see them like this everyday. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

After the play, Gator, being Gator, had managed to get the keys to the ice cream parlor so the entire cast could have a party there. You raised your eyebrows at his willingness to spend a whole night with a group of sugar high teenagers, but couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when Eden was jumping up and down and leaping into his arms in gratitude. 

So it was just you and Malcolm on the way home, the car filled with the energy you just could not contain. The two of you had gone out to dinner and back and you still hadn’t shut up. 

“Wasn’t she amazing?” You almost bounced in your seat, hands flailing.

“She was.” Malcolm chuckled. “But please put your hands back on the wheel, I don’t want to die.”

And just then, the bluetooth in your car rang out. It was Eden. “Speak of the devil.” You smiled as if you were not always speaking of her. You clicked the answer button and let it pick up. At first, you could barely hear Eden over the sound of chatter in the background. “Mom! Hey.” She shouted and you could just about make out her voice. 

“Yeah, hon, why are calling?” Your heart was doing that irrational thing where it started speeding up. She was at an ice cream parlor with a bunch of theatre kids and adult supervision, how much trouble could she get into? 

“No, just- Yeah. I’m asking now.” She turned to someone passing her. Asking what? You prayed it was just something simple like staying out a bit later than curfew. But when had your life been simple? “Everyone wants me back for the winter play!” 

“Winter play?” You and Malcolm let out in unison, so stunned that you almost missed the turn for the ranch. Since when did Stark County have such a vibrant arts scene? 

“Yeah!” Eden continued, completely unbothered. “They said they want me for the lead lead this time!” She squeaked. 

“Well, I don’t know, hon, won’t you have school then?” Away from here, please. 

“The school is like a five minute walk from here. My friends and I can come straight here for the evening.” Malcolm slowly turned to you, eyes widening as he caught up to what she was insinuating. Your heart dropped to your feet. “Mom?” “Yeah, Eden, we’ll talk about it later, ok?” You hung up before she could say anything more. 

You didn’t look at Malcolm, but you could feel his eyes boring into you, betrayal swimming in them. 

“Babe…what is she talking about?” 

You swallowed, already knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. “Malcolm, I had a really nice night tonight. Could we please just keep it that way till we get home?” Not that it mattered. You were already on the property. Like those few minutes would give you time to justify your stupid decision to keep this from him, know how to go about saying that your daughter wanted to stay in this middle-of-nowhere time capsule permanently. Malcolm was not the small town type, and what did that mean for the two of you? The car was quiet for a long moment as the tires rolled through the dirt, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. You looked at it — roof patched over with slightly mismatched tiles, a door that’s knob was far too modern compared to the rest of it. Weird, and wrong, and kind of home.

You turned to Malcolm, who was staring at you but not saying anything quite yet. Good. Silently, you slipped inside and straight up to your room, like the walls could protect you from the mess that you knew was about to unfold. Calmly, you sat yourself on the edge of the bed and looked up to where Malcolm stood, arms crossed. 

“What the hell is going on?” He frowned. 

You closed your eyes for a breath, trying to keep it together. “Eden-“ You exhaled. “Eden wants to stay here. Like, permanently.” 

“And you said no?” He stepped slightly closer. You lack of answer was all the response he needed. He shook his head. “How long have you known?” “Few days now.” 

“What the hell?” He threw his arms out, turning away from you. “We’re engaged, were you expecting me to move here?” “No! Of course not!” You knew that was way too much to ask. 

“So you were expecting us to work long distance then? Or were you just going to cut me out of your life completely?” You furrowed your brows. What did he want you to say? “Answer me!” 

“I didn’t say yes to staying either!” You sprung up, knowing how ridiculous you sounded. “I was only thinking about it because she and Gator asked me to.” 

He exhaled through his nose. “Oh, Gator asked you to.” He shook his head. “And were you going to ask me what I thought?” 

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t. You weren’t going to ask your own fiancé about this major life decision. “I-“ 

“You know I care about Eden too right?” “Of course I do.” 

“So you were just going to take her away from me?” Your lip trembled. Not again. “No.” You breathed. 

“So what was the plan?” You blinked, mouth open but no words falling out. He rolled his eyes at your lack of response. “Did you actually even think about any of this?” He pushed his fingers to his temple, leaning into your face. “God, do you ever think at all?” 

Your chest cracked. “What’s that meant to mean?” “Gee, I don’t know.” He leaned back, the sarcasm dripping in his voice. “You got yourself pregnant at 17, ran away from any stability you had, then when you finally find someone to help you out, you come running back here where nobody wants you. I heard the rumors, and you know what, I’m starting to think they were right. You’re so selfish.” Your heart felt like it was shattering with each syllable. This is why you didn’t want him here. Want him knowing your real life. He was seeing the real you. And when he did, he was just like everyone else. Worst of all, maybe he was right. “Look at you, you’ve got nothing to say. You know I’m right.” He turned away from you again, reaching for his suitcase. No. No, he couldn’t leave. 

“Malcolm, I don’t know why you’re acting like this.” You shakily reached for his arm and he shrugged you off. 

“Because I’ve spent so much time on you.” He shot up so you couldn’t keep crowding his space. “I came all the way here. I neglected my job.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“Oh, and if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have turned to Gator the first chance you got?” He spat.

“Of course not! Are you crazy?” You felt yourself starting to get dizzy at his words. Is that why he came all the way here? To make sure you didn’t cheat on him? And you had dared to think it was because he actually cared about you.

“So what’s going on?”

“I-” You sputtered, brain racing. What were you meant to say? “He’s the father of my child- What do you-”

“But it’s not just that! He’s everywhere I turn! Everything I hear!”

“Well, we haven’t seen him in nine years and we’re living in his home!”

“Yeah! That’s weird. You’re my fiancé. Did you forget that?” He pressed a finger so hard into his chest, you were sure he would bruise it. Your heart was speeding up, beginning to wonder if he’d bruise anything else. “Why is he here? Why is he living with you?” 

Maybe he was right. Maybe you didn’t think. “I don’t- Eden wants to reco-”

“Don’t bullshit me!” 

“I’m not.” 

“You fucked him. Just admit it.”

You choked up at the accusation. Sure, things had been complicated with Gator but never once had you acted on it. The words of the town were now being spouted from the mouth of the one person you thought you could trust. Stupid. Selfish. Slut. “No. We never-”

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t trust you. You’ve been lying to me about everything.” He began storming towards the bedroom door. You should’ve let him take a breath, but you couldn’t. 

“Not everything! I didn’t want to tell you about my parents,” You stepped forward, steering him back inside. “But I never lied about how I feel about us.” You reached for his arm again, turning him to you. “I love you. I want you. I’ve never wanted Gator.” 

“Liar!” There was a loud cracking sound as his fist met the wall. Mere inches from your face. 

And just like that, you were thirteen years old again, watching your mother and father argue.

It never stopped with the wall. 

You choked as if his hand had already found your throat, heart racing a mile a minute. Only one word was able to escape. “Leave.” 

He looked at the hole he has just created, looked at you — frozen in place, trying to keep what little breath you had left. Exhaled, like he was still furious at you. And walked away. 

You heard the front door slam shut but could barely register it over the ringing in your ears. Everything was distant. Your head spun, trying to keep you in this reality. The one where you were fine. You weren’t your mother. And yet, your body seemed to believe the opposite. Your legs gave way, your breaths went short. It was impossible to breathe when your memories had their feet pressed tight on your airway.

The front door opened again, and you heard Eden’s voice calling up. “Don’t mind us! Just popped in to get my purse.” When you didn’t respond, she called out for you. Again and again. You couldn’t say a word, completely lost in the chaos of your own body. Her voice blended into yours, screaming for your mom when you saw your father hit her.

Heavy footfalls came up the stairs and you recognized them even through this state.

Gator’s face was in front of yours. “Hey. ‘S going on?” You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. 

“Mom?” You wanted to respond to Eden’s frantic voice. You wanted to do anything. 

“Are y’- I-” 

“What’s going on? Is she ok? Mom?” 

You heard their voices overlapping but you couldn’t focus on the movements. It was like the world was caving in beneath your feet. It was ending. It was all ending. Thirteen. Shouting. Fists. Your mother on the floor. You swore to yourself never again. 

You swore you wouldn’t let your daughter go through the same thing. Fifteen. You yelling. Your father’s voice drowning it out. The first time he punched you. 

“Need y’ to look at me. Look at me.” Sixteen. Dishes breaking. Blood. You used plastic from then on. It was never going to be ok. You’d fucked it all up. They were still fussing over you. You couldn’t even understand it. Look what you did. You made Eden worry. The more her voice shook, and called for you, the more your heart raced. At some point, Gator yelled something about “Go to your room!” And that just made your heart pound faster. Seventeen. Freedom. Independence. Finding out that no matter where you went, you couldn’t escape the violence. But then you felt a warmth on your arm. Gentle. The feet on your throat loosened a little. “Baby, calm down.” You couldn’t just calm down. “Just…fuck I don’t know. ‘M here.” He kept rubbing up and down your arm, and you tried to focus on the soft touch. Soft. You weren’t breaking. “You’re ok. You’re safe.” It was those words that made the hold finally release and you could breathe again. Slowly, air returned to your lungs. Your surroundings came back into focus. “You with me, Dove?” You nodded, swallowing thickly. He pulled you to your bed, eyebrows pressed together as he studied you like a foreign specimen. Once you were seated, with your head against the board, he hesitantly took his arms off you. “Gonna get you some water. Just…maybe lie down.”

Your voice had finally returned and you only wanted to do one thing. “I’m- I- Gotta apologize to Eden.” You’d already scared her. Not just scared, but scarred.

“Woah, woah.” He held an arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “It’s ok. Y’ can take a second.” His eyes didn’t drift from the wall, jaw tense. “I’ll be back.” Then he left. So you were all alone, staring at the hole made in your wall that was, really, your fault. 

You were back here again — thinking your deluded little fantasies of someone keeping you happy and safe would actually come true. It took you eight years to dare to trust someone again and this is where it landed you. Well, maybe that was the problem. You hadn’t trusted him all the way, had you? All the lies and fights were because of you. The decade you had spent trying to stop your daughter from feeling the same way you used to was all for nothing. She had just watched you fall apart without Malcolm even laying a hand on you. Try as you might, Malcolm was right, you were nothing but a scared little girl who was pretending she knew what she was doing. And Eden just saw through it. You were a failure. 

Just then, you heard a voice from Eden’s room — gruff but low. “‘M sorry.” Gator was…apologizing? Yes, he had done it before. Rarely and usually far too late. “Shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, kiddo.” You slowly stood up, approaching the hall. You were like a newborn gazelle, finding your footing. You rested right near the door, careful not to alert them of your presence. 

“It’s ok.” You heard her voice croak back. She’d been crying. 

“No.” Gator stressed. “I was…scared for your mom, but shouldn’t have made that your problem.” You couldn’t believe how gently he was speaking. How his voice shook when he said he was scared for you. 

“What happened to her?” God, she sounded so broken. 

“Dunno.” He sighed. “We gotta look out for her, yeah?” Your heart clenched when you heard that. 

“No.” You stepped into the room then and they both looked to you like you could break into a thousand pieces. “You don’t have to look out for me. Ok, hon?” You crouched down so you were meeting her eyes where she laid on the bed. “I’m your mom, I look after you.”

“Hey…” Gator tried to interrupt but you wouldn’t let him. 

“I just got a little scared, ok? And I’m really sorry that it scared you too.” She shook her head. “Did Malcolm do that though? Did he hur-“ “No. No, no. I’m fine, hon. Just fine.” You were trying your best to smile. You would rather this than have her patch you up.

She sighed. “Mom-”

“I’m perfect.” You repeated. “Cause I have you.” You kissed the top of her head, praying that would get her to stop asking questions. “And your dad.” You turned to Gator, who only stared at you with a flat face as you took his hand in yours. “He was very good today.” They both gave you half-hearted smiles. “Now, I don’t want to be the one that cut your amazing night short, so do you want to grab that purse you were looking for and get out of here?” She opened her mouth to say something. “Honey, go celebrate. You know what, I’ll even push your curfew back a bit. Sound good?” A slow smile crept across her face and she nodded. 

As Gator sent Eden off with Tom’s mother again, you retreated to the ensuite in your room. Though your panic attack had subsided, your body was still shaky and you weren’t sure you could face anyone that wasn’t family. Your hands gripped the edge of the sink for some stability, as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Obviously, you looked no different. Malcolm hadn’t even made contact with you, so why did your insides feel like they were being torn apart? You were never one to bruise easily, and you always hated that about yourself. It was sick, but there was a part of you that wanted it. Like maybe, if there was proof of the pain, it would make it okay to feel the way you did. And maybe, someone would notice.

“Hey.” You turned to see Gator leaned against the bedroom door, his hair flying loose and falling in front of his eyes. He looked as much of a mess as you felt. “How you feelin’?” You straightened yourself up, exiting out of the bathroom. “Fine.” “Perfect?” He looked accusatorially at you, and you didn’t say a word. “Y’ need to stop lying to her. Everyone.” You rolled your eyes, an exhale escaping from your nose as you sat back down on the bed. You didn’t need a lecture from him about how to deal with this. If he had it his way, he would probably tell her it was fine because you deserved it. His eyes drifted to the hole and he tapped his fingers against his thigh. “I wasn’t. Y’know…good today. Haven’t been.” You looked at his face, guilt swimming in his eyes. That was Roy’s voice you were hearing again. He shuffled in his place at the front door, unable to take his eyes off the hole. “Has that happened before?” 

“No.” You couldn’t help the guilt you felt in your stomach. You were the one that drove him there, weren’t you?

“And your…” He finally ripped his gaze away to look at you. “Reaction?”

Your stomach turned slightly. Telling him about your family was hard enough, but telling him about how pathetically your body reacted to it was another deal. “Uh- It was just a panic attack.”

His eyebrows raised, foot lingering through the doorway. “You’ve had those before?” 

“Oh, yeah. Used to get them a lot a few years ago.”

“When we were together?” You just nodded. At that, his entire face dropped. His foot finally hit the ground with a thud, entering your room again. “How did I never-“

“You weren’t home.” Which is exactly why you got them. Being anywhere near Roy, watching how Nadine became a shell of herself, seeing the reaction after she ran away. He blinked his eyes, like that movement would keep his body together. “Well how do you…I wanna be better next time. How do I help? Teach me how to help.” Next time. You weren’t sure whether it was worse if there was a next time, or the idea that you’d still be here. And you certainly didn’t acknowledge how the thought of having Gator there for you made it feel a bit easier. You simply patted the space next to you on the bed. 

Gator hesitated for half a second, before taking his spot. 

You used to sit like this a lot. His side of the bed and yours apparently still the exact same. You took a deep breath, trying to get the words out. To say this was uncharted territory was an understatement. Where would you start on teaching Gator about your mental health and how to deal with it. “Well, don’t tell me to calm down.” You chuckled. Part of you didn’t want to get to the serious stuff. But Gator nodded, already filing the information somewhere important. “I can struggle to talk sometimes but if you can, get me to try and count backwards from 100 or recite the alphabet.” He quirked his eyebrow. “I know it sounds silly. But when I’m panicking, it feels like I’m going to die. Even though I know I’m not.” Your throat felt thick even thinking about it again. Where you had been not even an hour ago. You were sure if Gator hadn’t seen it, he might be rolling his eyes at you too. “So something like that…sort of grounds you. You know?” You could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t quite understand, but he didn’t question or laugh. “If that doesn’t work, just try to remind me of happy things. And speak. You did…you did a good job. With what you said.” He nodded intently, looking to the side and mouthing the words quietly. It was kind of adorable. As a silence fell over you, you saw his knee shaking on the bed — impatient to ask something else, but not wanting to push. Taking a step back for once. “Yes, Gator?”

“But what can I do to stop it from happenin’?”

You laughed. “You can’t stop it, Gator.”

He looked at you like you were speaking a foreign language. “Yes, you can. If y’know why it happens, just stop it.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was surprising to you that he had even been open to listening to this, so you had to be patient. “When I have a panic attack, it’s cause my body thinks I’m in danger. And a lot of the time, it’s when I remember things that made me scared. So if you find a way for me to forget that stuff, please let me know.” 

Gator’s fist tightened on the sheet. “Wish I knew.” It was said behind a small laugh, like somehow any of this was funny. It split your heart in two. You knew Gator had been through all the same stuff you had. Actually, far worse. But he just carried it, pretending nothing was wrong. So how could he look at everything that happened to you any differently? If you had stayed in that house, and Eden had seen what Roy did. If Gator, even a tiny sliver of him, could be capable of doing the same, you would’ve regretted it far more than leaving, wouldn’t you? “If I could take it all back, I would.” He mumbled it behind a breath, so quiet you almost didn’t hear, but the words themselves were so loud it left your ears ringing. “How everything went down between us.” You turned to face Gator, watching the way his eyes were focused on you — searching, desperate to fix…well, everything. Fix everyone’s pain, fix things with Eden, fix your relationship with him. 

Finally, he was seeing what it had meant for you to live on this ranch. And he was drowning in the thought that he had never noticed. Both of you struggling with the exact same pain, but too stubborn to admit it to each other. You were humiliated that you couldn’t just take it like everyone else you knew, and he was stuck under his father’s thumb. “You ever think…if we lived on our own, we would’ve made it?” Gator vocalized the thought that you had asked him all those years ago. And he’d just laughed. 

“I don’t know, Gator.” Without Roy in your life, perhaps. 

“Like to think we coulda been a family. You, me and Edie.” You could imagine it right now. A family supper that didn’t involve you and Nadine cooking for half of it while Roy sat at the table, picking apart every wrong thing that you two were doing. You not having to choke back tears seeing Nadine’s bruised up face, wondering if tonight would be the night Gator snapped just like every other man in your life. You knowing he’d come back home at all. And when he did, the two of you could just settle on the couch, doing nothing but talking. About Eden’s first day of school, about how your new job was, everything he had missed out on. You could have been honest with each other. You could’ve felt safe. Your chest fluttered at the thought. 

“Yeah.” You breathed, shuffling an inch closer without even meaning to. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, swiping away a tear on your eye. Gently, his fingers moved along your temple, down your eyebrow, past your nose, across your cheekbone. Tracing. “Coulda loved you right.” He whispered. And that was the truth you were reminded of as you listened back to those voicemails — if you could have gone back into the past and changed it, the one thing you would have kept the same was Gator. The first time that you met him, the moments you spent falling in love, when it all caved and you gave in to your feelings. 

Like now.

“Still could.” He let out a shaky breath that fanned over your lips. And then, finally, he closed the gap. And for the first time in nine years, you were kissing Gator Tillman. This time when you kissed him, it was like landing on the moon. He took away the thing that had been weighing you down for your entire life, and made you float. 

He tasted sweeter than he used to. Maybe it was the cookie dough ice cream still lingering on his lips, or maybe it was just him now. But there was still that sharpness underneath, the one that took you right back to your youth. And hungry for more. You shifted closer, your hand coming up to grip his neck as your tongue swiped his lip. He pulled back for a second, eyes searching yours in a silent question. You began to form a nod and his lips were back on yours before you could even stop the movement. And as your tongues slid slowly against each other, Gator couldn’t stop the groan that fell from his lips. His hands slid down your body ever so slowly, electricity shooting from his fingertips as he caressed your neck, your shoulders, your back until they reached your waist. He pulled you towards him softly and you took the opportunity to slide your hands under his shirt. He shivered at your touch, pulling away from you for a second to softly laugh into your neck. 

“Is everything alright?” You whispered, running your hand down his front, subconsciously taking note of every new scar that had formed since the last time you felt it. 

“Never better.” His greedy lips began to explore down your neck as you both shifted so he was leaning over you. He threw his shirt across the room and reached to help you with your top. “Fuck, wow.” He whispered as he took in your newly exposed skin. The look in his eyes made flowers bloom in your stomach, and you pulled him back down, desperately to feel him as close to you as possible. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous. Shit, I can’t believe this is really happenin’.”  The warmth of his skin on yours filled you up in every way possible. Well, almost. He shifted slightly, and you could feel what you really wanted on your thigh. 

“Gator,” You murmured against his lips. “Do you have anything?” 

“Shit.” Your stomach twisted. You were here, and now that you’d tasted his lips again, you wanted it all. Nine years of trying your best to forget the feeling of his hands on you, pushing down the ache that had been sitting deep in your chest forever. Now you were here, and you couldn’t wait a second longer. He moved his hips against you, like that would make you change your mind. And it almost did, but not quite. 

“You remember how we ended up with Eden in the first place, right?” He sighed, knowing your were right, but brought his lips back to yours as he unclasped your bra. He began working his way to your neck, your collarbone, and then, further down. “Gator, what are you-“

“What, like that’s the only thing we can do?” He continued kissing, breaths getting heavier as he approached your thighs. It wasn’t the only thing you could do, and it’s not like Gator hadn’t gone down on you before but, well, he was a teenage boy when your sex life was at its peak, and his main focus was always the same. But right now as he pushed your legs apart, settling himself between them with a hungry look in his eyes, he seemed perfectly content. More so when his tongue actually started exploring, and you both immediately let out a breath at the feeling. Still, you couldn’t help but tease him. “You still need help finding-” You were cut off by your own moan when his lips wrapped around with the perfect suction.

He giggled against your skin. “You gotta be a little quieter than that.” You only pushed your fingers through his messed up hair, and looked at him for a split second and he was leaning back down. You missed him. In any and all ways, and with the way he was devouring you, it seemed the same for him. Between his lips, and his fingers, and him groaning against you, it took you no time to reach the edge, sweating and lost in the feeling as you did. 

“Shit, Gator- Keep going- I’m gonna-” He growled eagerly as you did, working you through it, whispering about how good you tasted. He kept his head resting on your thigh as he watched you come down, mesmerized. 

And when you did, a thought washed over you. You turned, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand and Gator quickly lifted his head up. 

“Did I do somethin’?” His voice was small as he asked but when he spotted what was in your hand, he smiled immediately. Condoms. “Thank fuck.” 

When he snatched the box from you and reached in, he paused and you knew why. The packet was almost completely full. In fact, only one had been used. Which was weird because Malcolm had been here for weeks. Before Gator could ask the question, you pulled him back down to you, tugging at the waistband of his pants to get them down. But the way he sighed as you helped him, compelled you to tell him the truth. You ran your fingertips lightly against his chest, and kept your gaze focused there too. “They didn’t fit him.” You admitted, smelling the pretentious smirk that grew on Gator’s face a mile away. You grabbed his face with both hands, kissing it right off him. And he didn’t complain, opening his mouth to you immediately. He was practically shaking as he ripped the package open and so were you, desperate to feel him again. 

And then you finally did. “Shit, shit, shit.” He breathed hot against your ear as he sunk into you. “Y’ feel so good. So fuckin’ good.” He was right. You never let yourself think of it, but now that he was actually here, you couldn’t believe you got something this perfect. It was like the two of you belonged. He locked his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly like he had to keep checking that you were actually there. You felt your head spinning, less because of his movements but because of the words he couldn’t stop whispering. Against your hair, lips, your neck, 

“I missed y’ so much.”

“You have no idea how long I wanted this.” 

“Thought about you every single day since y’ left.” 

Your heart fluttered with each word. You’d buried it so deep that you hadn’t even realized just how lonely you had been without him. That ache in your stomach that you had simply gotten used to disappeared with each word he whispered, each press of his lips. 

After, breaths heaving, you looked at each other for a long moment. There he was. Your Gator, with the entire world in those eyes. Ever so slowly, he rolled beside you, but never took his arm away, pulling you tight against him, as he peppered more affectionate kisses against your neck. You closed your eyes, pushing back against him so you were even tighter in his hold and he only chuckled. And for once, as the darkness fell over the two of you like a soft blanket, your moment wasn't interrupted by anything else. Not everything was okay, but right now, with Gator next to you, felt like it could be. 

For the past nine years, honestly longer, you had done everything alone. It was your city, your house, your job. Then you came here, and it felt like you were walking into a stranger’s life. This was Gator’s town, Gator’s ranch and Gator’s community. But there was one thing you had always shared, no matter what — Eden. And because of her, this chaotic summer had made everything blur. It wasn’t “mine” or “his” anymore, it was ours. As your hearts beat in time, your eyes quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep. In your shared room. In your shared bed. 

Together. 

.ঌ˚˖ ࣪

hawkins felt like that now. just heavy and wrong.

the sky split open above the town like a wound that refused to close, red lightning flickering through the cracks at night while everybody pretended they still knew how to live underneath it.

and somewhere in the middle of all that, you and steve had slowly started missing each other.

not physically but emotionally. like ships passing in fog.

because every second of every day belonged to someone else now.

max still hadn’t woken up.

lucas barely left her bedside unless somebody forced him to shower or sleep. you’d become good at sitting beside him in silence, rubbing slow circles against his back while he talked quietly to max like she could still hear him.

sometimes he read comic books out loud.

sometimes he cried.

sometimes he just stared at her unmoving hand for hours while the record that was already engraved in his head played again.

you stayed anyway.

steve was unraveling in his own quiet way.

ever since that doomed night, something inside him had changed shape.

he smiled less now. laughed less.

and every time dustin looked at him with that hollow kind of heartbreak children shouldn’t carry, steve wore this awful expression like he personally failed him somehow.

like he should’ve dragged eddie back alive with his bare hands.

you’d wake up some nights to steve gasping beside you, sheets twisted around his legs, eyes wide and disoriented from nightmares he never fully explained.

just flashes of bats, blood, and eddie.

and every time it happened, you stayed awake afterward just listening to him breathe because you were terrified he’d wake up hurting again.

which meant you stopped sleeping too.

not intentionally. it just… happened.

days blurred together after that. coffee instead of meals. catnaps in hospital chairs beside lucas pretending you were fine because everyone else seemed worse.

because how could you possibly complain about being tired when max was lying unconscious in a hospital bed and steve looked like grief was eating him alive from the inside out?

so you kept going.

and going.

and going.

until your body finally decided for you that it was done.

the WSQK building smelled faintly like dust, coffee, and overheated wires.

the station had become some weird combination of safehouse and command center over the last few weeks. maps taped to walls. radio equipment scattered across tables. half-empty soda cans everywhere because apparently nobody in hawkins knew how to clean up after themselves during the apocalypse.

robin sat cross-legged on the floor flipping through radio frequencies while nancy argued quietly with jonathan near the bulletin board.

steve leaned against the desk beside you, exhaustion carved deep into the corners of his face while dustin rambled about supply routes.

you hadn’t realized how dizzy you felt until the room tilted slightly.

you blinked hard. focused on the wall.

fine. you were fine.

“…and if we cut through kerley lane we can avoid most of the military checkpoints,” dustin continued.

steve shifted beside you.

his arm brushed yours lightly. you leaned into it for half a second without thinking. he noticed immediately. always.

you saw his eyes flick toward you briefly. concern flashing there before he looked back toward dustin.

“you okay?”

“mhm.”

a lie.

a bad one apparently because his eyebrows pulled together immediately.

before he could ask again, the room spun violently.

your stomach dropped.

then darkness rushed up too fast to stop.

voices came back first.

panicked ones.

“holy shit—”

“move, move—”

“hey! hey, sweetheart, c’mon—”

steve.

your eyes fluttered open slowly to find yourself half-curled against his chest on the floor.

his arms were locked around you so tightly it almost hurt.

good. you liked the pressure.

your head pounded.

“there she is,” robin breathed somewhere nearby.

steve looked wrecked.

actually wrecked.

his face had gone pale beneath the freckles scattered across his cheeks, panic still sitting wide-open in his eyes even after seeing you awake.

“baby,” he said immediately, voice rough. “talk to me.”

you frowned weakly. “m’fine.”

“you passed out.”

instead of replying back you just closed your eyes briefly against another wave of dizziness.

steve’s hand slid behind your neck immediately.

“hey, hey— eyes open.”

you obeyed mostly because his voice sounded so scared it made your chest ache.

nancy crouched beside the two of you.

“when’s the last time you ate?”

you hesitated.

which was apparently answer enough.

steve went very still beside you.

too still.

“today,” you answered weakly.

“what today?” robin asked suspiciously.

“…coffee?”

“oh my-,” she groaned.

nancy sighed softly. “sleep?”

your silence stretched too long.

steve looked down at you slowly.

and suddenly you knew.

he’d figured it out. all of it.

the staying awake after nightmares. the skipped meals. the way you kept quietly taking care of everybody while letting yourself disappear somewhere in the process.

his expression changed instantly.

fear melting into guilt so sharp it almost looked painful.

“jeez,” he whispered.

“i’m okay,” you tried again.

“no, you’re not.”

the words came out rough.

not angry.

worse.

upset.

robin looked between the two of you carefully now, piecing things together.

“wait,” she said slowly. “have you been sleeping at all?”

you looked away.

steve cursed quietly under his breath.

that got everyone’s attention immediately because steve rarely cursed like that unless he was genuinely overwhelmed.

he scrubbed a shaky hand over his face before looking back at you.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“we already had enough going on.”

his face crumpled slightly at that.

like the answer physically hurt him.

nancy stood carefully.

“she probably needs actual food and rest before she tries that again.”

steve nodded immediately before helping you sit up slower this time, one arm firm around your waist.

protective to the point of ridiculousness.

not that you minded right now.

“we’re leaving,” he muttered.

robin softened instantly at the look on his face.

“hey,” she said gently. “she’s okay.”

steve nodded once.

but his grip on you tightened anyway.

the drive back was silent except for the soft hum of the heater.

you curled against the passenger seat with steve’s jacket draped over your lap while he drove one-handed, the other gripping the wheel hard enough his knuckles stayed pale the entire time.

you knew that silence.

it wasn’t anger. it was fear.

when he finally spoke, his voice came out rough around the edges.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

you stared out the window at the ruined streets sliding past.

“i told you. we already have enough going on.”

steve laughed once quietly. completely humorless.

“so your solution was to run yourself into the ground?”

“i’m fine.”

“you passed out.”

you flinched slightly at the sharpness in his voice.

his expression crumpled almost instantly afterward.

“shit,” he breathed softly. “i’m sorry. i’m not mad at you.”

you picked at the sleeve of his jacket quietly.

“kinda sounds like you are.”

“i’m mad at myself.”

that made you look at him.

his jaw tightened briefly before he spoke again.

“i didn’t even notice.”

your chest ached immediately. “steve—”

“you’ve been taking care of everybody,” he continued softly, eyes fixed on the road now. “lucas. max. me. and i just…” his throat bobbed hard. “i let you.”

the guilt in his voice felt unbearable.

you reached over instinctively, resting your hand against his arm. “you didn’t let me do anything.”

he finally glanced at you then. hurt sat so openly across his face it almost stole your breath.

“you stay awake after my nightmares.”

not a question.

your silence answered for you.

steve’s grip tightened painfully on the wheel.

“baby…”

“i didn’t want you waking up alone.”

his expression broke completely at that. because of course that was your reason.

not obligation.

love.

stupid, self-sacrificing love.

you looked down at your lap quietly. “you’ve been having a hard time.”

steve pulled into your driveway but didn’t turn the engine off. instead he just sat there staring forward for a long second before finally whispering,

“so have you.”

that hit harder than expected.

because nobody had really said it.

everyone just assumed you were handling things better because you were quieter about it.

your eyes burned instantly.

“hey.” his voice softened completely now. “c’mere.”

the second he opened his arms, you climbed across the console into him.

exhaustion hit all at once after that.

your body practically melted against his chest while steve wrapped both arms around you so tightly it bordered on desperate.

one hand slid into your hair.

the other rubbed slowly up and down your spine.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his shoulder.

“no.” he shook his head immediately. “none of that.”

“i just didn’t wanna make things harder for you.”

his arms tightened painfully around you.

“you passing out in front of me was definitely harder for me.”

a weak laugh escaped you.

steve kissed the side of your head immediately afterward like he needed the reassurance.

“you know you don’t have to earn taking care of yourself, right?” he murmured quietly.

your throat tightened.

because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

everyone needed something from you lately.

lucas needed comfort.

max needed hope.

steve needed someone awake beside him after nightmares.

and somewhere along the way you’d started treating your own needs like optional things you could come back to later.

except later never came.

you pressed your face closer into his neck.

“i was scared if i slept you’d have another nightmare.”

steve actually made the saddest sound at that. his hand cradled the back of your head carefully.

“baby, i’d rather wake up from a hundred nightmares than have you destroy yourself trying to protect me from them.”

tears burned behind your eyes immediately.

he pulled back just enough to look at you then, both hands warm against your face.

“you matter too,” he said softly, firmly. “not less than everybody else. not after everybody else. too.”

your lips trembled.

steve brushed his thumb beneath one of your eyes before it could fall.

“i need you taking care of yourself,” he whispered. “because i love you. because i can’t lose you too.”

too.

the word hung heavy between you both.

you finally understood then. this wasn’t just fear from today. steve had been watching people slip through his fingers for years now.

he couldn’t handle almost losing you too.

you leaned forward first, pressing your forehead against his. “you’re not gonna lose me.”

his eyes shut briefly. “then stop scaring the shit outta me.”

a watery laugh escaped you.

“okay.”

“okay?” he repeated skeptically.

“okay,” you whispered again.

steve looked at you for another long second before nodding once, satisfied enough for now.

then immediately slipping back into caretaker mode.

“alright.” he brushed your hair back gently. “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

you smiled faintly. “bossy.”

“extremely.” he kissed your forehead once. “you’re eating real food, taking a shower, and sleeping for at least twelve hours.”

“steve—”

“non-negotiable.”

you rolled your eyes weakly.

he softened instantly at the sight of it.

finally.

there she is.

he kissed your temple this time.

then your cheek.

then the corner of your mouth.

all soft and careful and lingering.

like love translated best through touch when words stopped being enough.

“i got you,” he murmured quietly against your skin.

and for the first time in months, you let yourself stop holding everything alone.

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“You know the rules.”

He huffs. Acts like he didn’t tell you in a drunken stupor two days ago that he wants you to call the shots.

“You’re fun to tease,” you say, leaning forward again, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. His eyes flutter shut, lips pursing, but you pull away before he has the pleasure.

Steve’s hands shoot up from the couch beside him, and you stop them right before he gets his hand on the nape of your neck and the small of your back. You tut at him, shaking your head, and press his eager hands back into the cushion.

“Please,” he whimpers.

You tuck his hair behind his ear, looking at him lovingly. “Please, what?”

His cheeks are pink. “Let me kiss you. Wanna kiss you so bad.”

You hum. “You don’t get to kiss me. You’re not in charge here, Harrington.”

You run your finger down the bridge of his nose. Steve’s eyes almost cross.

“Please kiss me,” he revises. He adds another please, but it’s hardly above a whisper.

“If you insist.”

His eyes shut again, his pretty face relaxing - relieved. You lean forward, cupping his warm cheeks with your hands, and press a light kiss to his lips.

You pull back a little. He’s expecting more, like that was just a warm up.

It wasn’t.

“Happy now?” you ask.

Steve groans. His head falls back against the couch, his jaw clenched.

You simply giggle.

“Baby,” he says, lifting his head to look at you. Beside him, his fingers flex. “What do I have to do, huh? Begging isn’t enough?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. You move forward to press your lips against his ear.

“Tell me every little thing you want me to do to you.”

To be a bitch, you grind down on his cock. He shivers, cock kicking in his jeans.

You know it’s hard for him to ask for what he wants like this. He usually just gets it, no begging required. It’s awkward, takes him a while to find his words. You watch with glee - it’s very hot to bitch him out.

“Want you to kiss me,” Steve starts. He keeps his eyes closed, and you don’t push it. “I want you to kiss me ‘til it’s hard for me to breathe.”

He shifts, groaning slightly as his cock ruts against you.

“And I want… I want you to give me hickeys.”

“Where?”

His hands twitch, but he stops himself. “My neck.”

You lean in once again, pressing your lips against his sensitive skin. He sighs as you kiss along his jawline.

“What else?”

“I want you to ride me,” he groans. “And when I cum… I want you to keep going.”

You grin, nibbling at him. “Where do you want to cum?”

“Inside,” he rushes out. “Please.”

“Hm. I’ll consider it.” You bite his earlobe. “Anything else?”

He whimpers. “Want you to praise me,” he says quietly.

You laugh breathily, making his skin prickle. “Then lose the attitude.”

You feel him swallow against your lips as you kiss along the skin, waiting until he whimpers at a particularly sensitive spot before sucking. He tastes fresh, a little salty. You lick up his neck and he gasps, hips bucking.

“Want me to mark you up so people know you’re mine, huh?” you whisper. “Maybe I should keep you on a leash, show everyone who owns you.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, his head falling back. You smile, sucking on his pulse point.

“Yeah? Wanna be my puppy, Steve?”

He nods, face red and radiating heat.

You kiss downwards towards the base of his neck, featherlight kisses placed against his scar. “Might as well. You’re acting like a bitch in heat.”

“Please,” he groans.

You gently bite his collarbone and pull away. He looks wrecked, face red, jaw clenched. “What is it, honey?”

“Kiss me,” he whimpers.

You trail your finger across his collarbones, staring into his eyes. He’s pleading, really selling the whole puppy thing. “If you could choose, would you rather kiss me or fuck me?”

“Kiss you.” He doesn’t even have to think about it.

Your cheeks heat now. “You’re such a romantic,” you coo. “Are you just being sweet with me to get what you want?”

Steve shakes his head viciously. “I’m - it’s the truth.”

Taking pity on him, you cup his jaw.

“No hands,” you remind, before pressing your lips to his.

You linger. You don’t quite kiss him hard, but it’s much firmer and longer than what he was previously given. Steve pants against your lips, hands clenching beside you.

You hardly pull away when you ask, “What would you do if I let you touch me?”

“I’d give you everything you want.”

It’s so tempting. There’s not a lot more that you love in this universe than having Steve’s strong arms around you, keeping you pressed to him. He’s always acting like he’s scared to lose you - everyone in his life, in fact - and you can’t quite figure out why.

“If you touch me, will you let me be in charge?”

He nods, coffee-brown pupils blown.

You hop off of his lap and he whines, reaching out for you.

“Relax,” you say, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head. “Pants and underwear off, honey.”

He moves fast with wide eyes and watches you remove your own clothes. You stay in your bra. It’s thin, and Steve’s eyes immediately hyperfixate on your tits. Your eyes trail down to his cock, painfully hard, tip pink and swollen.

You climb back onto him, straddling his thigh. Steve gasps, hands hovering, waiting for your permission.

“You’re so wet.”

“All for you, pretty boy.”

You take his hands and gently guide them to your hips. His hands immediately find purchase, fingers groping at the soft flesh.

“Don’t try to lead, Steve.”

He shakes his head as if he’d never even think about it.

He sighs as you move, eyes boring into the sight of your slick on his thigh. He sounds like you’re really fucking him, even though his cock is sitting neglected beside you. You glance down to watch it kick on its own, so heavy and lonely.

You bring your hand up to his mouth. “Spit.”

Steve’s eyes focus in. “Huh?”

“Spit, Steve.”

Confused, embarrassed, he does as he’s told.

“Again.”

He gives you much more to work with this time. Your hand snakes down to wrap around his aching cock and he gasps, hips jerking up into your fist.

“Uh-uh,” you chastise, loosening your grip.

“Christ, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please please please give it back!”

You’d never say no to him when he begs like that.

You stroke him in tandem to your hips movements, slow and drawn out. He’s sweating, making such an effort to stay still. His fingers bruise your skin, but you don’t quite mind it.

“You’re so goddamn hot when you beg,” you say, leaning forward to kiss him just a little. “Love seeing you like this. Big, strong Steve Harrington reduced to a little plaything.”

His cock pulses in your palm while his eyes roll back. His neck looks so pretty on display, your hickeys littering the skin, tendons flexing, that little silver scar around his collar like a necklace.

“You really are a good boy, Steve,” you continue, twisting your hand while he pants. “Always so eager to please. So sweet.”

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“I love you, too. Don’t get cute.”

“I need you,” he whimpers.

“Want another kiss?”

He nods, and you lean in. Just as your lips touch, you pull away again, teasing him like before.

He groans, sounding more frustrated than ever. “You’re killin’ me.”

“What’re you gonna do it about it, huh? Gonna pin me down, make me take it? Or is that my job?”

You clit throbs against his thigh, dragging slowly while you watch him short circuit. You bring your hand to your own mouth, spitting before jerking him off again.

“I think you like being out of control,” you sigh. “I think you like it when someone tells you what to do. Don’t you?”

He nods fervently, messy hair falling over his forehead. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he can’t look at you.

“Then let me give you a task,” you say, moving off of his thigh to straddle both of his legs, the tip of his cock kissing your clit.

You take his hand from your hip and move it between your thighs. “Get me ready for you.”

There’s no hesitation. Steve has two fingers buried inside of you before you can process it, and you moan loudly. His fingers crook up right against the spot you like, making your legs shake.

“Good boy,” you moan, throwing your arms around his neck. “This - this is f-for me, not you.”

His fat cock leaks, anyway. Steve’s knuckles rub against it with every push and pull of his middle and ring fingers.

His thumb swipes across your clit, your nipples perking as he works on you. His eyes are glued to them, lips parted.

“Y’want my tits, too?”

He whines and nods. “Please, please, please give me something.”

“Your fingers in my cunt not enough?”

“I - I -“

“You’re so pussy drunk,” you pant. “Does - does your cock hurt?”

He nods up at you, pouting. His pace doubles down, pressing against your sweet spots firmly and consistently.

“Y’know I need one more,” you say, and he’s slipping his index finger into you, too.

The stretch is uncomfortable, but you’re happy to take the temporary pain.

“So good.” He’s praising you.

You laugh. “You’re my good - my good b-boy, stretching me out so sweet.”

You sink down onto his cock without much warning. So little warning, in fact, that he shouts. Let’s out a little “ah!” and swiftly bucks his hips upward, his hands grabbing your waist. You wince hard, the stretch too much, pain shooting through your pelvis.

“I’m sorry!” he says quickly. He breaks the no-hands rule to cup your cheeks, wiping stinging tears from your eyes. “I didn’t - you didn’t tell me —“

You shake your head, taking a deep breath.

Steve, his own eyes watering, grabs your hips and tries to haul you off, but you glare at him.

“Don’t pull out.”

You hear his breath catch in his throat as he stills. He looks confused, thick brows furrowing together, his chest and face red.

“Need a second,” you whimper. “No apologies, Stevie, my fault for not warning you.”

Kindly, Steve’s thumb finds your clit and he rubs gentle circles into it. You relax a bit, the pain slowly - so slowly - dulling.

“Good boy,” you whisper. “Making me feel so good after splitting me open on your cock.”

He groans. A bead of sweat trails down his temple.

Your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath, to focus on anything other than the stretch. “Tell me how my pussy feels.”

Steve swallows hard, his thumb still helping you through it.

“It’s - it’s really - uh, it’s really t-tight. So goddamn tight. And wet, and hot… You - you’re soft.” He shakes his head, widened eyes meeting yours. “I’m not gonna last.”

Steve’s words and work on your clit have your stomach tightening, the pain subsiding.

“You’re going to last, Steve,” you say, lifting up slowly. The relief is immense, but you feel so empty. “You better hold it until I cum. Got it?”

He groans but nods.

“Might as well keep touching me,” you say, giving the tip of his nose a quick kiss. “Need you to keep rubbing my clit, ‘kay? You wanna touch my tits?”

He nods again, eyes hooded. Probably feels so cold without your cunt on his shaft, just the tip inside.

You take one of his hands and move it to your breast. “Not allowed to touch anywhere else. No moving your hips, either. You’re going to take what I give you.”

“I’ll take it,” he agrees.

You sit down without warning and Steve gasps loudly. His thighs tighten under your ass and he grits his teeth, throwing his head back.

“Come on, Steve,” you strain, “touch me.”

He rambles while you ride him, his fingers pinching and pulling at your lace covered nipples and clit. You ride him slowly, looking down at him with your brows stitched together. He’s so gorgeous, so pretty when you get on top. So frazzled and needy. Your hickeys have since turned purple, the bruises on his skin blooming like violets.

You attach your lips to his neck again.

“Ohhhh phhhuuuck,” he groans, the hand on your breast squeezing.

“You feel so good, Steve.” You nip at his jaw and tickle under his ear with the tip of your nose. “Fat fucking cock fills me up so good.”

His eyes roll back. His throat vibrates under your lips.

“Shouldn’t … I shouldn’t have taken i-it so easy on you.” It’s hard to speak, your pleasure growing. “May- maybe I should just sit on you- your cock, keep it warm instead.”

“No no no no no,” he rushes out, shaking his head. “Gotta cum, please let me cum, oh my God.”

“But we just started,” you breathe, picking up your pace. You lift your head to look at him, watching him desperately try to keep his head on. “What’s the fun in that?”

You notice that his thumb has began to move faster, too. He’s clearly trying to get you to cum quickly. And it almost works. Stomach tightening, cunt throbbing around his shaft, and you know it would feel so good to clench down on him and take his cum.

But you maintain your composure.

“No cheating,” you pant.

“Not… I’m not,” he slurs. “Want you t’feel good.”

You laugh breathlessly. “Aren’t you sweet?”

“Lemme help,” he whines, rubbing his thumb over your nipple. “Wanna taste.”

Your pussy aches. “Through my bra.”

He lurches forward to suck and kiss at your tits, dampening the fabric with his spit. It feels so good, the rough lace rubbing against your nipple with each swipe of his tongue. He’s a great multitasker, too, still doing his best with your clit.

You’ve never heard him sound so slutty. He moans, groans, sucks, licks loudly. It’s such a turn on, your stomach flipping, your breaths growing heavy.

“Good boy,” you whimper, moving as fast as your legs will allow you. “So fucking pretty and hot, Steve, l-look at you, Christ. Make - make me feel so good. Y’r so big, f-fillin’ me up - y’gonna cum in me?”

“Please!”

Your legs are sore, shaking at the exertion. You press yourself against his chest, bracing yourself on him.

Your lips ghost over the shell of his ear. You feel him shiver.

“Fuck me.”

Ever obedient, he obeys. Planting his feet, he adjusts his hand to grip your hip and snaps his own up into you.

He fucks like it’s the last time he ever will. Like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel your sweet cunt around him. He groans expletives into the crook of your shoulder, biting your skin, sucking on your neck.

“Shit!” you gasp, your back arching.

Steve moves his arms to wrap around you, keeping you pressed against his chest.

He’s not allowed to do that. But you feel too good to stop him, so you decide to create some equilibrium. Your hands curl into his hair and you tug harshly, forcing his head back, the prettiest noise sneaking out past his lips.

“Gonna make me cum?” you grit, feeling your climax nearing. You don’t even need him to coax you with a finger on your clit. “Y’gonna f-fill my pussy up?”

“Fuck!”

You smash your lips against his, teeth colliding. It’s not a loving kiss - it’s ownership. You own him.

The moment Steve licks into your mouth, you’re done. Body tensing and trembling, you tighten around his cock and cum, hard and swift. He fucks you though it, though he’s whimpering loudly.

He won’t cum until you tell him to.

Using your remaining strength, you put your lips to his ear once more.

Smiling deviously, you whisper, “Fuck a baby into me.”

It’s comical how fast it takes him over the edge. His teeth bite into your shoulder and he groans, slurs out some words that you can’t understand. His warm cock pistons in and out of you until he buries himself all the way inside of you. The pressure is immense, but feeling the warmth of his cum fill you makes it worth it.

Steve’s still panting when you pull back. He’s blissed, fucked out, sweating and red. He smells like sex and sweat and sandalwood. You lean forward to kiss him, nice and soft and sweet, cupping his burning cheeks.

“So good for me, Stevie,” you murmur between kisses. “My beautiful boy, did so good.”

Steve nods, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, eyes almost closed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Your legs still shake, but you do as he requested before. You don’t stop. Your cunt is swollen and sore but you slide up and down his shaft slowly, gasping softly with each rise and fall.

“Hey,” he gasps, digging his nails into your skin. “Baby - woah.”

“You said you wanted me to keep goin’.” You play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He throws his head back, groaning long and deep, writhing beneath you.

“Too much,” he breathes.

“Thought you wanted this, honey. Doesn’t my pussy feel so good? All full of your cum?”

He jerks violently. “Honey — oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Gonna cum again?”

He exhales loudly from his nose. Shakes his head, then nods, then shakes his head again. His stomach ripples and tightens, chest rising and falling rapidly while sweat pools at his hairline.

“Such a fucking slut,” you continue, smiling when he reacts with a whine. “Wanna cum again? Huh? Greedy.”

“I was good,” he chokes out.

And he’s right. It’s his first time, after all. He wasn’t bad for a novice.

“You’re right,” you coo. “Good little slut for me. So handsome when you’re fucked out… cum feels so good in me.” You sink all the way down, resting on his balls, swollen and sensitive. “Look, sweetheart, you’re fucking your cum right back into me.”

You run your nails through the hair on his chest. You lift up once, then down, and he’s cumming again, his back arching and burying himself as far inside of you as he can go.

You kiss around his face, his sweat salty on your lips. With a final peck on his hot cheek, you pinch his side and slide off of him gently, both of you hissing. You press your forehead against his and nuzzle your noses together.

“Hi,” you say softly.

Steve’s still planting. He nods. He can’t speak yet.

“You okay?”

He nods again.

“Let’s lay down, okay?”

You hurt between the legs as you stand unsteadily to let him lay down on the couch. He throws an arm over his eyes and sighs deeply, his spent cock softening on his lower stomach.

“C’mere,” he says hoarsely, reaching for you.

“I’m messy,” you whisper. “And so are you.”

His hand slides downwards, finding your cunt again. You gasp as his fingers weakly slide between your folds, and he groans when he feels his cum slipping out of you.

“Messy,” he repeats, a stupid smile on his face.

“Yeah, you are, too. You want a bath, or just a washcloth?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t go.”

You bite your tongue, trying to suppress a smile as you look at him. “If you get in the bath with me, you can do whatever you want to me tomorrow.”

Steve sighs again, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“Might need a sec,” he pants.

it had started with a simple remark. that’s all it was meant to stay at. unfortunately, steve was having an extremely rough day and feeling particularly snappy. and you were more than willing to snap back.

“babe, could you please let your bowl soak once you’re done eating so it’ll be a little easier to clean in the morning?” you requested as you scooped up some of the dinner you’d just made into a bowl for him and set it on the table.

steve shut the door behind him and huffed out a loud breath, clearly annoyed. “seriously? the first thing i hear is about a bowl? no ‘welcome home!’ or ‘how was your twelve-hour shift at the station?’ just dish inventory?”

you stopped and turned to face him, one hand on your hip and the other still holding his food. “i’ve just spent six hours studying for my finals and another hour cooking for you so you would have food ready when you came home. i’m not asking for much, just that you help out a little so i don’t come home to a growing ecosystem in the sink tomorrow.”

he scoffed and ran a hand over his face. “help out a little? i’m working my ass off at the station just to help out a little. i’m tired, babe, okay? my brain is absolutely fried.”

“we’re both tired, steve. that’s the whole point,” you retorted, almost laughing at how selfish he was being. “i have a lot on my plate with school and you’re working late nights, i get that, but that doesn’t mean the apartment is gonna clean itself. i’m not asking you to do it all yourself, i’m just asking you to help me make it easier.”

his jaw ticked as he shook his head. “i do help out. in so many ways. i work all of these shifts so i can pay for things like rent and groceries. maybe i just wanna sit down for five whole minutes without getting an entire performance review. it feels like you don’t even appreciate anything i do.”

a pang hit your chest. you could feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. “wow. you’re gonna go there?” you muttered, your voice a little quieter now and full of hurt. “i told you an apartment wasn’t a good idea. i’m in university and it’s hard to even find time for myself— let alone a job. you knew what you were getting into, so do not put that onto me.”

“nobody’s putting anything onto you. see— this is the issue! you’re always making something into something it isn’t,” he said a little too truthfully. it made your heart squeeze uncomfortably. “i just want to come home and be able to relax and kick my shoes off without the constant nagging and scolding.”

you could feel your heart shattering completely behind your ribs. “fine. if that’s what you want, then i’ll leave it to you.” you placed the bowl down by the stove and turned it off, your appetite suddenly disappearing. “i’m done, steve. we’ve had this conversation before and clearly, you’re not open to suggestions.”

his brows furrowed. “what are you even talking about? i’m exhausted, don’t you see that? i’m sooo sorry if i forget to clean one dish. it’s not like i spent the last twelve hours grinding to support us or anything.” the sarcasm in his voice was sickening.

“you’re not listening to me! we’ve been here before and nothing has changed at all since then,” you spat back, hot tears of pure anger pooling in your waterline. “i don’t care about the money, steve. we’ll figure it out, we always have. it’s about you being here! i feel like i never get to even see you anymore.”

he rolled his eyes and wiped the anger from his face, now replaced with sleepiness. “i’m exhausted, okay? and the second i walk through that door, you’re here to stress me out all over again. the entire world can’t revolve around you at all times, y’know.”

a silent tear rolled down your cheek but steve didn’t falter. he didn’t rush to wipe it and apologize profusely. he didn’t even look guilty. he just stood there and watched. you wiped it furiously with the sleeve of your hoodie and began searching around the kitchen for your car keys.

he sighed like it was inconveniencing him. “what are you doing?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose like an annoyed parent.

you finally found them and moved towards the front door, pushing past him in the process. “if you’re so exhausted and stressed out because of me, then i’ll just leave and you can have that relaxing night you so desperately want.”

steve started to follow you. “wait. can you at least put on a jacket? it’s cold out—“

you shut the door before he could finish. hot tears contrasted against the cold night breeze as you rushed to your car. he didn’t chase you outside. he just let you leave.

you drove over to your dads cabin for the night to clear your head and get some advice. hopper was clearly annoyed through the entirety of your story to hear that steve was being a douche to you. el looked like she could fight him at the sight of your tears.

sleeping in your old room should’ve felt nice or nostalgic at the very least. instead, it felt cold and lonely with the memories of you and steve when you were teenagers and fighting monsters together. all of the times you two burst into laughter when hopper came bursting through the door because it was shut instead of three inches. the times where he’d hold you through the night terrors after everything that happened. the mornings where he’d kiss you so soft and sweet before heading off to work. the very few rare times that you could see him and hopper through the crack of your door, bonding over whatever as they made breakfast together and actually laughed.

el must’ve noticed somehow. you still didn’t fully understand how she always knew what you were feeling before you did, but she just knew. there was a soft knock at your door before she slowly pushed it open and muttered a soft, “do you want to have a sleepover in my room?”

that’s how you ended up in her room for the night, practically getting zero sleep at all. you two just talked the entire night while laying side by side in her bed. being her older sister and all, she trusted you with everything. if you were to ask her, she’d say you were the wisest person she’d ever met.

so she talked about mike. told you everything you needed to know about their relationship and more. she let her feelings out completely, something she’d never fully done before with this situation. you could see the physical weight lift off of her chest even in the dark. you listened and gave advice when she asked.

then it was your turn, el desperately wanting to hear what happened. she’d always looked up to the two of you, saying how you guys were like the couples in those cheesy romcoms. you really didn’t have much to complain about like she did other than the fact that he was always working.

steve treated you better than anyone else ever had. your relationship was pretty much a dream come true— besides the whole workaholic thing that only recently started. other then that, he was the perfect boyfriend. it just sucked that one small thing was tearing you two apart.

somewhere along the rant, you two finally knocked out. you were awake a few short hours later and slowly crawling out of her bed to get ready. a quick shower, brush your teeth, wash your face, then head out. hopper was already outside on the porch smoking a cigarette, mumbling something about not being a stranger— which you definitely weren’t, you were over there all the time— as he pecked your forehead and then watched you pull out of the driveway.

when you walked back into the apartment, your brows furrowed. it was completely clean. not a single dish in sight, no crumbs on the dining table, no shoe prints on the floor. hell, it looked like he’d even dusted. you could see his feet hanging off the couch from where you were standing, assuming he’d slept there for the night instead of your shared room.

you quickly grabbed your school bag and headed back out to your car, hurrying before he woke up to head back to the radio station.

your 9:00 am was dreadful when the only thing you could think about was your failing relationship. it was absolutely plaguing your mind and making you feel dreadful and anxious all at once. it was as if there was this big metal chunk just sat on your chest.

you couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. you even tried studying at the library for a little to get some homework done— and also avoid coming home for a little longer— but you barely got through the first page of your book. it was like you were reading over the words but not comprehending them.

after another hour or so of this, you went home to your apartment. steve was in the living room when you walked in. you could see his feet hair peaking over the couch cushions. he didn’t speak and neither did you.

you quickly grabbed a plate and reached into the fridge for some eggos, plopping them down onto the plate before popping them into the microwave. you took the syrup bottle from the pantry and the waffles up to your room before shutting the door. no more interactions between the two of you happened that night.

that’s how the next morning continued as well. it was the weekend now. you got ready to head over to your dad’s cabin while he got ready for the station. was it a little petty when you made eggs and bacon only for you? maybe. but you really didn’t care about that right now. he could pick something up on the way like he often did.

you ate, cleaned your dish, and left without a word. your heart broke a little more the longer you two were silent.

while you and el rotted on the couch, eating junk and watching movies all morning, you heard the radio in the kitchen roar to life. hopper was cooking lunch for the three of you but stopped, urging you two to turn the tv down to listen when robin started giving her code words for a crawl tonight. so much for that peaceful weekend you’d been looking forward to.

the last few crawls had gone horribly wrong. you and hopper were always the ones in the upside down— not by his choice of course. there was one in particular that left you shaken up for a few days after dustin and jonathan got into an argument, ruining steve’s focus as he tried to intervene while driving. they ended up getting off track, leaving you and hopper with no signal and no knowledge on whether it was safe to head to the exit. you’d ended up with a nasty gash up your leg from an encounter with a demo.

you arrived with your family to the station shortly after. steve, robin, jonathan, will, mike, nancy, and joyce were already there waiting. after another few minutes, lucas and dustin finally arrived.

they began running over the plan like they had a hundred times before. you watched the projector screen and listened carefully from your spot beside your sister with your arms crossed over one another.

mike moved to stand at the map, pointing at a street near the high school. your chest tightened. he traced along the length of the road up until he reached hawkins high, tapping on it as he explained something about going back there.

you couldn’t hear him, not a single word. it was all foggy and muffled as if you were underwater. that was the place where you and hopper had gotten lost and attacked by demos. your heart raced so fast it felt like you might actually pass out. usually you had the weight of steve’s hand to calm you. but now everything felt so cold and overwhelming.

the group quickly became one big jumbled mess of words and protests. that was your way out. you quickly slipped upstairs and towards the front door, gasping for air and practically clawing at your neck to try and clear your airway.

steve was annoyed to say the least. one hand rubbed at his temple to soothe the forming headache from all of the chatter and the increasing volume. he let out a huff and glanced over at you to see if you were half as aggravated at he was— a habit he’d picked up on since the start of crawls —only to find your empty chair. his brows furrowed as he glanced around in search of you.

he looked behind him and still found no sign of you. his feet moved around the crowd before he could think. he jogged up the stairs quickly and walked past the shelves, glancing down each aisle to see if you were there. not a single sign. he looked towards the recording area and found nothing. his stomach was starting to turn uncomfortably.

he heard a soft thunk and turned to his right, noticing the door wide open and gently hitting the wall with the force of the wind. he moved quickly out of fear that something might’ve been seriously wrong.

when steve walked out, his heart dropped. he rushed over to your shaking form and gently pulled your hands from your neck. “hey, honey. it’s okay, you’re okay. i’m right here,” he cooed softly, frowning at the red lines on your skin from scratching at it. he’d seen this one too many times. not lately though. that’s what worried him most.

he carefully moved you to sit in the grass with him as he sat across from you, not wanting you crowd your space. “look at me, sweet girl. just keep your eyes on me,” he directed. you still weren’t focused. his hands came up to tenderly cradle your face, the soothing movements of his thumbs on your cheeks made your distracted gaze finally find him. “there you are,” he said with a tiny, encouraging smile. “you’re doing so well, honey. jus’ forget about everything else, ok? it’s just you and me right now. just us.”

you gasped and choked on your sobs, your hands coming up to grab at his wrists. “i can’t—“ you cried, trying so desperately to get any sort of air into your lungs. “steve— i can’t breathe. i can’t—“

he nodded along and gave you another encouraging smile. “you can. you’ve got this, ok? i’m right here with you. just follow my lead,” he said softly, taking in big, exaggerated deep breaths. “nice and slow. i’m right here with you.”

you tried to mimic him, getting quick bursts of air into before you felt your chest start to loosen the slightest bit. his thumbs caught each tear that rolled down your cheeks. “that’s it, honey,” he cooed sweetly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own. he held you like you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world. “again. big deep breath, ok? doin’ so good.”

with one more big inhale, you felt your breaths begin to slowly even out again. you moved quickly to wrap your arms around his neck and tuck your head into his chest as you cried. his big arms wrapped around your frame instinctively, gently rubbing circles into your lower back. “better?” he whispered.

you nodded against him slowly and tried to calm your tears. “better,” you confirmed through a cry, holding onto him tighter. “i— i can’t go back there, steve. not yet. the demos— what if they’re still there and—“

he gently shushed you to keep you from working yourself up again, one hand come up to cradle the back of your head. “i know, baby, it’s okay. you don’t have to, not until you’re ready,” he muttered against the side of your head, pressing sweet kisses to your hair. “you only do what you and hopper are comfortable with. we won’t make you do something you don’t want to.”

there was a long pause of silence as he let the words sink in before he was pulling back the slightest bit so he could see your face. “i’m sorry about the other night. everything i said— i didn’t mean it. none of it. i was just so burnt out and it was a really bad day. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair. i should’ve never said those things,” he apologized, tears brimming in his waterline. “i take it back. all of it. you don’t make me feel like that at all. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and— and not having you these last few days made me realize how much it’d kill me to really lose you.”

a frown tugged at your lips. “i’m sorry too for getting all snappy and raising my voice at you. i should’ve been more considerate,” you murmured softly. “i appreciate everything you do for us. i’m sorry if i don’t say that enough.”

he shook his head and paced a long, loving kiss to your forehead. “don’t be sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. “that was the reality check i needed. i should’ve been more considerate. you do a lot for us too on top of your busy schedule and i should be helping out more. i just got so caught up in working that i didn’t even realize how much i was hurting you. that’ll never happen again. i promise you.”

you smiled to yourself and nodded. “i love you,” you whispered, wiping the tear from his skin with your thumb.

he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, sighing at the feeling. god, he’d missed this. “i love you,” he whispered with that lovesick grin. “i’m not done apologizing yet. i swear i’m gonna make it up to you.”

you let out a soft giggle and pretended to think for a moment. “can this apology include getting a puppy?”

steve playfully groaned as he leaned forward and peppered gentle kisses to your neck, the crawl meeting long forgotten now. “let me sit on it for a couple hours.”

You open your mouth to snap back a retort but all thought disappears as one large hand sets itself down onto the kitchen countertop an inch away from your hip. Your breath catches, the witty retort on your tongue dying when he leans in to reach the mugs you couldn't—his chest brushing against the top of your back in a way that made everything around you feel fuzzy.

"Here you go," Steve says in a voice that was a little too low for your likening, the mug you had been trying to reach now set on the countertop in front of you. "Gonna say thank you, roomie?"

Your jaw clenches—there was a small part of you that was annoyed at him but mostly? You were trying hard not to smile, trying not to show Steve how affected you were by the proximity because Steve was still pressed up against you, still making you feel as though your blood was thrumming through your veins.

"I told you not to put the mugs up on the top shelf," you say finally, your mouth feeling uncomfortably dry and yet finding no desire to leave the position you were in. "Do you even listen to me, Steve?"

Steve hums and you shudder as one of long finger dances along the slither of skin on your shoulder that was exposed.

"I listen," he murmurs and the words seem to go right through you, your body feeling too hot all of a sudden. "But sometimes it slips my mind."

"You're such a bad liar."

Steve grins because of course he was lying—he truthfully only did it because it gave him an excuse to check you out. Sue him—he had a hot roommate who he wanted to try and impress.

"I'll try and remember next time," Steve grins as he steps away from you. You feel a sense of disappointment that you can't quite control because little did Steve know, you were just as enamoured by him as he secretly was with you.

And so, you hoped he would continue to place the mugs on the top shelf. Even if it did piss you off a little.

dividers by @pepsipoet

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⊹ ࣪ ˖𓂇⊹ ࣪ ˖

Marcus’ house is completely different in the daytime, the sun beating down through the floor to ceiling windows shedding light on the previous nights’ debauchery — used whiskey glasses are scattered across the floor, rolled up bills left to the side of an empty tray, not a speck of white dust left on it. Most of the people from last night are gone somehow, despite their deeply intoxicated state and the lack of cabs in Lehigh. 

You stumble down the porcelain tile of the atrium, squinting your eyes at the yellow light being let in. It’s not the type of place you’d think typical of a drug dealer —wooden walls and an open floor plan where each room feeds into the next through archways, doors or secret passages. Yes, this place has secret passages like a damn Clue game. You’ve noticed them sometimes when you’re zoning out of sex; how a panel is slightly sticking out from the rest or the bookshelf isn’t quite pushed against the wall. 

There’s only one room that stands alone. The one you are walking past now, where you hear low whispers, Marcus’ office. The front door is two steps away. You should just get out of here, take a nice, long shower and hope that no one wants to see you during the day. Instead, you pad your bare feet towards the door, your heels pressed to your side and push your ear to the bright yellow wood. 

“You think it’s working?” Marcus asks, his voice deep enough to let you know this is one of those serious conversations where he’s trying to present bigger than he is. 

“Nobody’s got anythin’ solid yet.” You hear another voice. One you heard last night but can’t quite place. Peter, maybe? “But it’s not gonna be over for a while still.” Peter! Strange, you think. You expected him to be a small player, considering this was the first time you met him, but here he is, sticking around for hushed one on ones with the big boss.

You realize that the room’s gone quiet. 

Somehow, you hear Marcus looking towards the door. A chair scrapes. Footsteps. You quickly turn an rush to the front door, not daring to look back. Just as you fingers close around the doorknob…

“Going home?” Marcus asks, looking you up and down slowly. He has never done anything wrong to you, but he’s got this uncanny ability to give you chills with just his eyes. 

“Yeah,” is all you respond, because you don’t ever talk with him in the light of day. He nods, turns back and shuts the door. The click of a lock hits your ears like a final note. You don’t waste a moment getting out of there.

Goodbyes are never a thing between you two. You don’t even know why he pays you to stay the night, considering he spends no time trying to hold you and rarely goes for another round. Maybe he just likes the idea of you being there at his disposal, or just that you’ll do what he asks for the right price. You think what he gets off on the most, though, is the idea of this —you dragging your tired body down the suburban streets of Lehigh, heels in one hand, what’s left of your dignity in the other. The sun shining down over the mess of hair on your head as mascara bleeds from your lashes. Your walk of shame. 

He’s wrong about all of it. 

You walk from there with your head held high, knowing there would be no way to please this archaic town with “dignity” anyway and you just made more than well, any woman in this town. Your bare feet land comfortably on the gravel road that sizzles under your sin despite the oncoming winter. As you walk, you are only focused on the way the sun illuminates that leaf floating gracefully off a tree, and not the looks people may just give you. This isn’t a walk of shame. It’s a walk of complete and utter satisfaction. Well, almost. Maybe if last night you could have also been satisfied. You snicker to yourself as you continue down the roads with no sidewalks paved out because no cars come around. You walk right in the middle of the road. Miles and miles until you finally get to your house. Well, your daily exercise is sorted, you think, laughing to yourself as you turn the key and step back into heaven. 

You aren’t ashamed of your job, far from it, but returning here feels like a ritual cleansing that lifts a weight of your shoulders. 

Like you can finally be yourself. Completely. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖𓂇⊹ ࣪ ˖

A week after your first job, Gator finally completes his mission. He gets you in the sack. 

He barely wastes his time with pleasantries or anything, stuffs the cash in your purse hastily, and then his hands are on you. Up your back, on your chest, on your ass. Anywhere he can as he devours your lips with his own, no pace just pure desire. You’re not complaining. Because you can feel how excited he is, and it makes your stomach flip, knowing he just got off a shift. You love that he was thinking about you during work. That means you’re winning, no matter what he says. 

Somehow, all of your clothes come off within the breath you take before pressing your lips back onto his and you’re pinned underneath his hips on the bed, rattling with the sheer force of his kisses. Your hands come to wrap around his shoulders, and immediately, you can feel that they are stiff as a rock. And you notice that something else isn’t stiff. Your palms almost instinctively starts running along his shoulder blades in slow, gentle movements. It’s never fun when they’re like this. For either of you. 

His fingers come to your wrist, pinning one hand above your head but letting your other still move. It’s overwhelming you now, and what felt hot five seconds ago is starting to get a little less when you see a focused look in his eyes. This isn’t sex to him. It isn’t business either. It’s how he’s going to prove it to himself. That he is a man. He keeps making a meal out of the side of your neck, licking and sucking as his free hand moves to fix his little downstairs problem. His knuckles graze against your front, teeth nipping at your neck like that’ll distract you from the back and forth movement of his fist. His grip on your wrist gets looser with each unsuccessful stroke, grunts of frustration dissolving under your skin.

“Gator.” You try, wriggling your free hand up to wrap in his locks.

“Thought I told you to call me deputy.” His teeth keep nipping at your neck between words and you swear he’s trying to give himself contact burn at this point. 

“Gator.” You repeat, actually tugging his head up this time. He gasps, short and sharp as you direct his face towards your gaze. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. And me.” Your eyes float up to where he had your wrist pinned, and the mark that you’re sure is visible now that his hand is looser. He exhales as he looks, a strange flicker of shock overcoming his face. It isn’t like before. He seems scared of himself. That look vanishes as he rolls off you with a frustrated grunt.

“This is your fuckin’ fault, y’know?”

“My fault?” You sit up so you’re rested against the headboard next to him. Because you dared to suggest that he let go of this idiotic tough guy persona? 

“You do some voodoo to me and bring up that bullshit about me ‘letting go’ or whatever, of course I’m gonna be all in my head ‘bout making sure you know the truth. And I’m never in my head.” 

“Think I picked up on that, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even look at you, eyes suddenly focused on his fingernails and he sucks his teeth with his tongue. Something about him is so pitiable. It really turns you on. “So why do you care?” His eyebrows furrow together, trying to comprehend your words. “I’m a…‘professional whore’ as you put it.” You’ve learned not be offended by shit like that.

“Why should you, Mr Tillman, give a fuck what I have to think?” It’s like some invisible wire is cut loose on his marionette strings, and his shoulders relax. He turns to you, mouth wide. “Chances are, I forget about you tomorrow.” You lie, shifting so you’re straddling his lap. “And you still have a mission to fulfill…” His hand comes around your waist, pulling you a little closer, eyes going all soft again in an instant. “You should be caring about what those big, bad FBI agents think.” You press your lips to his neck, a lot softer than he did to yours. “What are they gonna say when you come back with nothing. Again.” You sigh behind his ear, your hand running down his chest with featherlight touch. 

“Mm.” He lets out sound — part exhale, part moan. 

“Tell me what you actually want.” You whisper. His fingers flex lightly on your hips, and quickly he pulls you back into a kiss. A lot slower this time, tongue sliding against yours, and when you begin to take the lead, he doesn’t protest, he encourages it. He pulls away from your lips, mouth dragging hot against your jaw now. “Wanna do what you said.” He murmurs there.

“And what’s that, Gator?” Your eyes can’t help but fall shut at the way he seems to find the perfect spot on your neck. 

“Wanna let go.” And you can feel how immediately some of that tension in his body releases at the admission. 

You tilt your neck, so it’s just out of his reach, causing him to look up again. “Will you let me help you?” 

He blinks back at you, eyes wide. “Yes.” There’s a moment where he looks to the side like someone will show up out of nowhere and catch him in his admission. But they don’t. So he nods again, more confident this time. “Yes, please.” 

You start slow with him. Just kissing, letting his tongue slowly explore the expanse of your neck and chest. He’s a lot softer than he was moments before, laving over the marks he just made like an apology, eyes flicking up to you when you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. He’s stiffening beneath you, but you know this isn’t going to be enough. You ease one of the hands wrapped around you off, guiding it to your inner thigh and Gator immediately gets the hint. Two fingers slide into you without care and he begins pumping at a rapid speed. You gasp at the sudden sensation before you can stop it. He locks up at the same time you do, like he understood that wasn’t a noise of pleasure. Instantly, his hand and face are pulled away from you. Shit. 

“Knew this was stupid. So fucking stu-“ You cut him off by pressing your lips against his again. 

“It’s not stupid.” You sigh. “I’m- I’m surprised you noticed.” His eyebrows push together again, waiting for elaboration. You don’t give it to him. This is about what’s happening now. “You’re fucking me, not mining for gold. And you’ve heard of this thing called a clit right?” He almost chokes on your forwardness. “Just go slower, and be a bit of a tease.”

“You’re the expert at that.” He snorts, but doesn’t hesitate to lock his lips back on your chest as his finger experimentally runs through you. He circles your clit slowly, and you let out an airy moan near his ear. He lets out a low noise in response, like that brings him more satisfaction that anything. “Yeah, Gator. Just like that.” 

He tilts his head up again, eyes glimmering at the smallest praise. “Feels good, mama?” Your hips respond to him before you do, searching for friction as you grind against his thigh, feeling your stomach coil up. His free hand rests at your waist, not guiding you, but flexing there every time he hears your satisfied sounds. He’s hard as a rock now, but he doesn’t make move to stop. In fact he slides two fingers down and blinks up to you for permission. “Can I…” The moment you nod he eases them in, slowly stretching you out and you almost choke. “Shit, you’re like…actually wet.” You don’t ask him about that right now, too lost in the feeling. He retracts, pushing them back in even slower this time, circling your clit with his thumb. He prolongs the feeling, savoring all the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth, swallowing them with his own until you are driven insane.

“Faster.” He listens, speeding his fingers up, still a lot more careful than before. “C-curl them.” You explain, and he does, hitting that spot that makes you see actual stars. You experience the crescendo for real this time. When you are right at the edge, you feel him buzzing underneath you. “Yes. So. Good. I-“ Then you spill over, collapsing into his shoulder as he works you through it, him breathing heavily too. 

When you feel stable, you lean back, trying to assess the look in his eyes. He is blinking up at you like he can’t believe it, some deep realization striking through his body. “You okay?” You try softly, squirming your hips so that he will pull his fingers out of you. 

“I-” His jaw tenses. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.” “Fingered someone?” You cock your head to the side, truly shocked. He shakes his head, looks down at his fingers, covered in you. And it hits you harder than the orgasm itself. He’s never made a girl finish before. You’re not sure why you do the next thing that you do. He wanted to let go right? You grab his hand guiding it slowly up to your mouth. He watches with wide eyes as your lips wrap around his fingers, sucking softly. The hum that you let out around his fingers makes him shiver. You reach for his chin and he parts his lips without hesitation, letting you kiss him senseless. He groans as he tastes you on your tongue, sucking on it like he wants more, until you’re both breathless. 

You pull back, trying to get some air in your lungs. “Peter Wagner.” 

“What?” He asks absentmindedly, eyes raking over your body like he’s still trying to process everything.

“Works with Marcus.”

That grabs his attention, and he scans you up and down. “Who is he? What does he do?”

You shrug. “You’re the deputy. You figure it out.” He sighs, removing his hands from your body like he’s already done with the whole situation. You glance to the clock. “But we still have time for you to get some more information out of me.” 

And immediately, he straightens again, a slow smile creeping across his face. 

He leans up, capturing your lips with his. This time, his tongue guides yours not in a show of power, but eagerness. He doesn’t waste another moment reaching for the condom that has been waiting on the nightstand like Chekov’s gun, and tears it open. With the way his hands shake, it takes him a few tries to open it and even as he does, you can tell he can barely keep it together. 

Slowly, you place your palms on his chest, and at your light push, he leans back. “Let me.” You see the hunger in his eyes at the action, nodding furiously. He watches as you carefully slide the condom on, and position yourself over him, already knowing this is going to be a challenge. Seriously, he has all that to work with and he’s never made a woman orgasm? Taking a deep breath, you lower yourself down onto him, gasping at the feeling. You can’t hear yourself over Gator, though, who’s cursing like a child that just learned those word before. 

“Fuck, shit, damn, mama, you’re tight.” He sounds completely in disbelief on the last word. “Thought-“ 

You press a finger to his lips so he’ll shut up. “Being loose cause you fuck a lot is a myth made up by pricks that can’t make a girl come. You wanna be like them?” He doesn’t respond with words, a half-moan as he tries to shake his head. His eyes eagerly follow your finger as you retract him from his mouth, placing your hand at his hip so you don’t fall. You close your eyes, as you pull yourself almost all the way off, and then sink down again, both of you singing out matching groans at the feeling. When you do it once more, his hands shoot up from where they were lying dormant at his sides and find your hips. “You gonna be good?” 

“Yes, yes. I’ll be good.” He chokes on his last words, embarrassed to admit it but needing it. 

So you start grinding on him in earnest, entirely at your own pace. And Gator, to his credit, doesn’t once rush you. In fact, his eyes all big just stare at you, completely and utterly mesmerized. And you don’t even feel like you have to perform properly. You can genuinely enjoy it. The noise you let out aren’t fake as the pressure builds, and you get the feeling his aren’t either. They can’t be, because you can see the fight in his eyes, trying to suppress the tiny whimpers falling from his lips as you reached down to circle your clit as you inch closer to the edge. He sees you smile at the sound, cheeks flushing red as he turns away. Even here, when you can see how much he enjoys it — feel it, with the way his hips buck up in your rhythm, barely holding it together— he can barely let a woman see him like this. You lean down slightly, so you can take his face in your hand and turn it towards you. To show him that you are enjoying it. That it’s ok to be vulnerable. You speed up even more, so close that you’re practically shaking now. “Let go for me, baby.” You remind him. He nods once, before turning his head just slightly in your loose grip. And then his mouth wraps around your fingers, keeping his eyes to yours just like you did as he sucks on them with a soft hum. That’s what makes you break, your high slamming into you like a landslide and he follows right after. The two of you are practically harmonizing with each other as you ride out the feeling, still moving so you can squeeze every last bit out of him. You collapse onto his chest, breathing heavy as you try to calm your spinning head. Holy shit. When the world stops spinning around you, you straighten up, dismounting from his lap with a wince that he matches. 

“How was that?” You ask as you move.

“Holy shit.” He breathes, matching your thoughts. He doesn’t say another word, staring at the wall again. But you notice a difference in his eyes this time. Not shame. Surprise. And a good one at that. Like he didn’t know that it could feel like that. You take satisfaction in that look because it means you’ve done your job right. You wait for a beat, wondering if he will be more honest this time about anything else he wants. Still, he doesn’t make a move to reach for you or ask to clean up. You pretend it doesn’t bother you. Your time is almost up anyway. 

“Can I-“ You indicate towards the ensuite and he just nods in response. Gently, you slide off the bed, holding onto to it as you descend. Your legs feel slightly like jelly as you stumble to the bathroom with your clothes in hand. You already know you’re going to need a while to get used to that. And somehow, you know you’re gonna get it. You quickly clean yourself up and slip on your clothes, adjusting the fabric so it sits right.

Usually, you wouldn’t mind too much about your appearance, but this hotel is nice. And as shitty as it is, walking out of this bedroom, you may very well find your next client in the lobby as you’re leaving so you unfortunately have to look your best. Men are creatures of contradiction like that — they will fuck anything that moves, but you still have to be the epitome of beauty when they pretend to have standards. You run your hands through your hair to detangle as best as possible, examining yourself in the mirror. Almost put back together, just missing one piece. 

You spin back into the room, walking to your purse with one clear mission. But as you dig through it, your one prized possession, which always sits right at the top of the pile of clutter, isn’t there. You had it yesterday, you had it before you came here, the only time you could have lost it is… You turn to Gator, boxers now pulled on, watching you with his head propped against his forearm and a totally satisfied smile on his face. You should’ve guessed. Without a word, you walk over to the pile of his clothes bundled at the foot of the bed and begin rifling through the pockets. You start with his cargos, which already have four pockets too many. God, you hope you don’t have to go through the tactical vest too. 

“The fuck are you doin’?” He jumps up, all the sweetness from minutes ago dissipating. 

“Did you take my lipstick?” He wouldn’t be the first to want a little trophy of their time with you while also never wanting anyone to know of your interaction. Creatures of contradiction. “Know you said your stepmom uses it, but ‘m not a charity case and that is expensive.” You don’t find anything in the pants so you drop them and reach for his vest. 

He snatches it out of your hands before you can search through it. “I was lyin’ about my stepmom using something like that are you crazy?” He leans down to scoop up his clothes, turning before you can reach for them again. 

“Oh.” You straighten up. “Good. I was lying about having a stepdad. And to think I felt bad for fooling your gullible ass.” He shakes his head, but you see the way his lips turn up slightly as he steps back into his pants. 

He doesn’t miss a beat before shooting back though. “Don’t worry, I knew you didn’t have a dad ‘f you ended up here.” 

“I’ll have you know my mom and dad love each other and me very much. There isn’t some sob story that made me choose this career.” 

“Sure, yeah.” He snorts, adjusting his shirt before reaching up to push back his messed up hair and straightening up his posture. You watch the change in real time. The persona locking back into place. You really aren’t sure who he’s doing all this for. “You don’t end up doin’ this unless you got something real messed up in your life.”

You roll your eyes. Of course he thinks that’s some original own that will make the imaginary crowd he’s always performing laugh. “You know from what I heard, you’re the one with the daddy issues, doll.” 

And just like that, all the playful energy in the room is sucked out. Gator drops his hand from his head, all the stubborn hairs flying back into his face. His jaw hardens, eyes flickering with hurt for just a moment before lighting into full on anger. “What? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?” You mock, a stubborn hand placed on your hip for emphasis. 

“Fuckin’ whatever.” He slinks to the front door, and you do feel something thick in your throat at the way his shoulders have dropped. You are here to take that weight off them. Not add more.

“Gator.” You exit the room right behind him. You can’t quite look at him so you quickly focus on your nails, which definitely need a fresh coat of polish. “Peter’s lonely. He shouldn’t be hard to turn if you just…bribe him with some recognition or somethin’.”  His eyebrows furrow as you look back up. “How do you know that?” You stare at him for a long moment, and he immediately gets it. Peter called you up the other day, and has seen you almost every day since. He is good at sex like his face promised but he’s also more desperate for the connection, taking you out to dinners, and talking for a long time before he even gets you into bed. You’re surprised, truly, that he would dare to bring you out in public but you’re not complaining. “You psychoanalyze all o’ us like that?” Gator can’t stop himself from biting his lip, the real question all too obvious. What do you think of me? 

You know he won’t like the answer so you fake a gasp, one hand lingering on his chest as you move in front of him. “Big word for a policeman.” He snorts through his nose, this time amused by your joke and you can’t help but smile. “Look, he’s only just gotta town so, maybe, become his friend, get him to open up.” You don’t notice that Gator has completely frozen as you lean in and press a small peck to his cheek before vanishing down the hallway. 

His gaze stays fixed on you as you walk, shoulders back like nothing in the world could ever shake you as you type something out on your phone. He believes it. You’ve let go of every shitty thing this town expects. And he wants to be able to walk like that too. 

In the blink of an eye, you’re gone. It still shocks Gator how quickly you can vanish like that. But the bigger shock is your words. He’s sworn that he knows this county inside out, down to who comes here and when. So how did this guy slip in without anyone noticing? Shit. Marcus is a lot more powerful than Gator had realized if he can pull one over Roy, and taking him down for good was going to be a real challenge. If he wants to prove himself to his father and get the FBI out of here, he’s going to need all the help he can get. 

He pulls out his phone, opening his messages with you. 

Gator 10:07pm - Meet me tomorrow. 

He wants to say the case is the only reason he’s asking. 

The lipstick tube sitting in his tactical vest would suggest otherwise. 

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