50-50, I'm a sucker for looks

the glow of your desk lamp was the only thing lighting your room by the time you finally looked up from your history notes. outside, the sky had gone dark hours ago, the faint sound of crickets slipped through your cracked bedroom window. your pencil rolled from between your fingers as you stretched your arms above your head with a groan.

you hated homework.

not because you were bad at school, you actually did pretty well, but because hawkins high suddenly seemed obsessed with making everyone miserable this year.

especially with that stupid new program.

speak up!

even the name sounded fake cheerful.

principal higgins had introduced it last monday during assembly, standing awkwardly behind the microphone while half the gym ignored him.

“students can anonymously communicate with one another for educational assistance,” he’d explained proudly. “it’s designed to encourage collaboration and improve grades schoolwide.”

translation?

people who were too embarrassed to ask for help could hide behind fake usernames instead.

at first everyone thought it was ridiculous.

tommy hagan had loudly called it “nerd tinder,” earning laughs from half the basketball team while teachers pretended not to hear him. even your friends spent lunch making fun of it.

you did too, honestly.

because seriously, who was actually going to use some weird school messaging board to ask strangers for chemistry help?

apparently a lot of people.

you stared at the chunky old computer sitting on your desk. it hummed loudly by the time it turned on, the screen flickering slightly before stabilising. your parents bought it for christmas years ago after you begged them for one, though now it was mostly used for homework and occasionally typing essays before the printer jammed for the hundredth time.

still, it worked.

eventually.

you chewed the inside of your cheek before leaning forward and typing in the school website address.

the login page for speak up! popped onto the screen.

you almost backed out immediately.

this was dumb.

you had friends if you needed help. normal people had friends. or classmates. or literally anyone else besides anonymous weirdos online.

but, you kinda understood the idea.

there were definitely people at school who acted too cool to ask questions in class. people who’d rather fail than admit they didn’t get something.

plus, maybe some kids just didn’t have anyone.

with a small sigh, you clicked register username.

after thinking for a second, your fingers typed:

uptowngirl

creative? no.

but the billy joel song had been stuck in your head all week and honestly you couldn’t think of anything else.

once you logged in, a long list of posts appeared on the screen.

and wow.

people were actually using this thing.

messages filled the page.

can someone explain algebra 3 page 52?

need help studying for bio test.

is anyone good at essay editing?

you blinked.

okay. maybe principal higgins wasn’t completely insane.

your eyes scanned lazily down the page until one username made you snort.

farrahfawcettspray: Need help with chem homework. Seriously desperate.

you laughed quietly to yourself.

there was no way that was a guy, right?

you literally had the exact same can of farrah fawcett hairspray sitting on your dresser.

for a second you considered logging off, but you had already finished the chemistry assignment. and it honestly wasn’t that hard once you understood it.

before you could overthink it, you clicked their profile and typed:

uptowngirl: hey, you said you need help with chem?

you expected to wait at least a few minutes for a response.

instead one came instantly.

farrahfawcettspray: Please

you smiled despite yourself.

dramatic.

you started trying to explain the worksheet the best you could.

uptowngirl: okay so for number 4 you have to balance the equation first

farrahfawcettspray: What equation

you stared.

uptowngirl: the one on the page?

farrahfawcettspray: Oh jesus christ

a laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

for the next twenty minutes the two of you went back and forth. you genuinely tried helping at first, but after realising they seemed completely and utterly lost, you finally gave up and just started feeding them the answers directly.

honestly, whoever they were, chemistry clearly was not their thing.

finally another message popped up.

farrahfawcettspray: You’re a lifesaver, thanks uptown girl

you frowned for half a second before remembering that was your username.

uptowngirl: no problem farrah

a response came immediately.

farrahfawcettspray: Don’t call me that

you grinned.

uptowngirl: goodnight farrah

you logged off before they could answer.

shutting down the computer took nearly five whole minutes, the thing whining dramatically as the screen slowly faded black.

you got ready for bed afterward feeling strangely… good. like you’d actually helped someone.

-

the next morning at school, you told your friends about it during lunch.

“wait,” your friend laughed around a mouthful of fries, “you actually used speak up?”

you groaned. “only once.”

“oh my god.”

“shut up.”

“was it romantic?” another teased dramatically. “anonymous study flirting?”

you rolled your eyes. “they barely knew what an equation was.”

that got another round of laughter from the table.

still, you found yourself smiling too.

the whole thing was kinda funny.

by the end of the day you’d almost forgotten about it completely.

hawkins high emptied fast once the final bell rang, students flooding into the parking lot in loud clusters. you adjusted your bag higher on your shoulder as you headed toward the front doors, already mentally preparing yourself for the walk home.

your house wasn’t exactly close.

but the shortcut you found through the side streets cut the trip almost in half.

the october air was chilly enough to sting your cheeks as you walked, leaves crunching beneath your shoes. the neighborhood was quiet this time of day, most people still at work.

you were halfway down the street when you heard a car slow behind you.

your heartbeat jumped instantly.

you turned slightly and immediately wished you hadn’t.

a familiar bmw rolled beside you.

of course.

steve harrington sat in the driver’s seat, one hand lazily on the wheel. tommy was leaned halfway across the passenger seat already grinning like an idiot while carol lounged in the back.

you rolled your eyes and faced forward again.

keep walking, ignore them. easy.

the car crawled beside you anyway.

“hey!” tommy called.

you kept walking.

“hey sweetheart, why’s a pretty girl like you walking home all alone?”

carol smacked the back of his head immediately.

“god, tommy.”

“ow-”

from the corner of your eye you caught steve shooting tommy some annoyed look before glancing at you briefly.

you just smiled sweetly then flipped them off without breaking stride.

there was a beat of silence then tommy barked out an offended laugh.

“bitch!”

the bmw sped off ahead of you with a screech.

you sighed heavily.

god, you hated those people.

tommy and carol were the worst, loud, mean, constantly acting like hawkins high revolved around them.

and steve harrington?

honestly, you didn’t know him enough personally to hate him the same way but the rumors definitely didn’t help.

every girl in school seemed obsessed with him for reasons you couldn’t understand beyond the hair and the stupidly perfect face. supposedly he’d dated half the girls in hawkins already, and every story made him sound more arrogant than the last.

definitely not your type, not even close.

by the time you finally got home, the sky had darkened into deep blue.

the house was empty.

your parents were both working late again.

you dropped your bag by the stairs, called out a halfhearted “hello?” anyway, then headed upstairs after grabbing a soda from the fridge.

you weren’t really hungry.

your room was warm compared to the chilly outside air, and you immediately sat at your desk with a sigh, pulling your homework toward you.

math first.

then english.

then maybe death.

after about twenty minutes, your eyes drifted toward the computer sitting beside you.

the screen was dark.

you hesitated then reached over and turned it on.

the machine groaned loudly in protest.

“c’mon” you muttered.

eventually the screen flickered to life.

you logged into speak up! mostly out of curiosity.

the second your profile loaded, a notification popped up instantly.

1 new message from farrahfawcettspray

your eyebrows lifted.

you clicked it.

farrahfawcettspray: I failed the chem quiz

you laughed before typing back.

uptowngirl: that sounds like a you problem

three dots appeared almost immediately.

farrahfawcettspray: Wow. Cruel.

uptowngirl: you survived though

farrahfawcettspray: Barely

you smiled a little without meaning to.

there was something weirdly easy about talking like this. maybe because you didn’t know who they were. no awkwardness. no trying to act cool.

just words on a screen.

another message appeared.

farrahfawcettspray: You got homework tonight?

uptowngirl: obviously

farrahfawcettspray: Wanna help me again?

you snorted softly.

hopeless, completely hopeless. and somehow, for some reason, you typed back anyway.

uptowngirl: fine. but this is the last time, farrah.

there was a pause.

then:

farrahfawcettspray: You really like calling me that huh

you grinned at the screen.

maybe this whole speak up thing wasn’t so stupid after all.

-

somewhere along the way, logging onto speak up! became part of your routine.

you’d get home from school, dump your bag by your desk, complain your way through homework, eat whatever leftovers were in the fridge, then eventually sit down in front of your computer with the quiet expectation that there’d already be a message waiting for you.

and there usually was.

sometimes it was something dramatic like:

farrahfawcettspray: I think Mrs o’donnell genuinely enjoys watching teenagers suffer.

or-

farrahfawcettspray: If i fail math i’m becoming a criminal.

other times it was just:

farrahfawcettspray: You there?

simple.

stupidly simple.

but somehow it always made you smile.

you didn’t really talk to anyone else on the site anymore. not because you meant to stop helping other people, it just.. happened naturally. every time you logged on, you found yourself clicking the same username first.

and apparently he did too.

you learned pretty quickly that “farrah” was definitely not a girl.

that discovery came after nearly two weeks of talking.

uptowngirl: serious question

farrahfawcettspray: Uh oh

uptowngirl: why the hell is that your username if you’re a guy

there’d been a long pause before the reply finally came through.

farrahfawcettspray: My sister was talking about hairspray when i made the account

you stared at the screen.

huh.

that actually made sense. kind of.

uptowngirl: still weird

farrahfawcettspray: You’re literally named after a billy joel song

fair point.

you didn’t learn much else about him after that.

not big things, anyway.

he wasn’t great at schoolwork, that became painfully obvious very quickly, but he didn’t seem stupid. honestly, sometimes he said things that surprised you. little observations that were funny or weirdly thoughtful in ways you didn’t expect.

mostly though, your conversations were random.

complaining about teachers, ranting about homework, talking about the absolute freaks wandering the halls of hawkins high.

without naming names, obviously.

farrahfawcettspray: Someone left their lunch in the locker room and it smelled like sweaty fish for a week

uptowngirl: what does sweaty fish even smell like

farrahfawcettspray: Death

or

uptowngirl: i watched someone trip over absolutely nothing in the cafeteria today

farrahfawcettspray: That might’ve been me

uptowngirl: honestly wouldn’t surprise me

you started looking forward to those conversations more than you probably should have.

it was weird.

because you didn’t know him, not really. you tried figuring it out sometimes, usually while lying awake at night after logging off.

you mentally ran through people at school constantly.

who had a sister? who hated chemistry this much? who wanted a big family someday?

who said they wanted to buy an rv and drive around the country because “hawkins is depressing as shit”?

who admitted they could only sleep on the side of the bed closest to the wall because they were scared something would grab their ankle from underneath?

that one had made you laugh so hard you almost woke your parents up.

uptowngirl: you are literally a child

farrahfawcettspray: You say that now until a monster grabs your leg

uptowngirl: from under the bed??

farrahfawcettspray: YES

uptowngirl: you’re insane

but the more you thought about it, the more you realised the things you knew about him weren’t really things that narrowed anyone down.

they were too personal, too strange.

you couldn’t exactly walk through school looking at people and think:

yeah, he definitely sleeps facing the wall because he’s scared of bed monsters.

or

that guy absolutely wants six kids someday.

it didn’t work like that.

maybe that was the point, maybe this was all supposed to be.

just some weird invisible string tying you to a stranger.

still, was it weird that you felt like you liked him? not even physically, you didn’t know what he looked like.

didn’t know his voice, didn’t know how he laughed or walked or what color his eyes were.

but after weeks of talking every single night, it started feeling like you did know him in a way.

you knew the version of him behind the screen. you knew he was dramatic. and funny. and kind of an idiot.

you knew he hated peas with an alarming amount of passion, you knew he procrastinated every assignment until the absolute last second. you knew he got attached to stupid things easily because he once spent ten full minutes ranting after losing a lighter he “connected to.”

you knew him.

just not who he actually was.

just not who he…

was.

yeah.

oops.

-

one friday night, your friend convinced you to stay over at her house.

between movies, junk food, and listening to her complain about her ex-boyfriend for almost two straight hours, you honestly didn’t think about the weird little web page once.

not until the next afternoon when you finally got home.

your house was quiet when you walked in, duffel bag slipping from your shoulder onto the floor with a thud.

almost immediately, your brain went:

check the computer.

which was ridiculous, completely ridiculous. still, you headed upstairs.

the computer took forever to load like always, buzzing loudly while the screen slowly flickered alive.

you logged in and immediately saw two unread messages.

your stomach did a weird little flip before you could stop it.

farrahfawcettspray: Never guess what happened to me today

then, sent hours later:

farrahfawcettspray: Tough crowd

you smiled automatically.

god.

you typed back quickly.

uptowngirl: sorry! stayed at my friend’s house last night

uptowngirl: what happened??

the response came almost instantly like he’d been online already.

farrahfawcettspray: I got home and realised i left my window open

uptowngirl: okay?

farrahfawcettspray: There was a fucking fat frog sitting on my bed

you burst out laughing alone in your room.

actually laughing.

uptowngirl: you’re lying

farrahfawcettspray: Why would i lie about this

uptowngirl: because frogs can’t climb houses??

the typing bubble appeared immediately.

farrahfawcettspray: THEY CAN

uptowngirl: no they can’t

farrahfawcettspray: One was literally on my bed

uptowngirl: maybe it walked in

farrahfawcettspray: Through a second story window??

uptowngirl: good point

farrahfawcettspray: Thank you

for the next twenty minutes, the two of you argued about frog climbing abilities. twenty whole minutes. which honestly should’ve concerned you more than it did.

eventually you leaned back in your chair, smiling at the screen like an idiot.

god, he was stupid.

the thought came naturally now. comfortable. fond, almost.

and immediately after that came another thought.

was he?

you frowned slightly at the screen.

because really you didn’t know.

you didn’t know if he was tall or short, popular or invisible, funny in real life or just online.

you didn’t know if you’d even like him face to face and somehow that was the strangest part of all.

feeling this connected to someone whose face you couldn’t even picture.

-

more weeks passed so quickly it almost made you sick.

somehow talking to him had become the most normal thing in the world.

you’d wake up, go to school, come home, and somewhere in between all of it you’d find yourself thinking about whatever stupid thing he’d said the night before.

sometimes you caught yourself almost telling your friends about him before stopping at the last second.

because what even was he?

some anonymous guy from school you talked to every night?

it sounded ridiculous when you thought about it too hard.

still, the conversations never stopped. if anything, they got longer, easier.

and lately, you could tell you were both trying, very discreetly, to figure each other out.

not outright asking names or anything obvious, just little things.

tiny questions hidden inside normal conversation.

farrahfawcettspray: What were you wearing today?

you’d immediately narrowed your eyes at the screen.

uptowngirl: why

farrahfawcettspray: Curious

uptowngirl: that sounds suspicious

farrahfawcettspray: Or maybe i just care deeply about fashion

you snorted.

another time

uptowngirl: you said your shoes got soaked today. what shoes?

farrahfawcettspray: Nice try

you’d rolled your eyes so hard it hurt.

it became a game after a while.

you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to know who you were, that was the weird part. it wasn’t that you were embarrassed of yourself. you weren’t.

but after months of talking like this, what if he’d built some version of you in his head that didn’t match reality?

what if you disappointed him?

or worse what if he disappointed you?

it was stupid, completely stupid, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts anyway.

-

today had felt normal at first.

cold morning air, crowded hallways, just another day at hawkins high. then suddenly over the speakers came principal higgins’ voice.

“all students report to the gymnasium for assembly.”

the entire school groaned collectively.

you slumped back in your seat.

“if this is about safe sex again i’m leaving” your friend muttered beside you.

the gym was loud when everyone piled in, sneakers squeaking across the polished floor as students shoved into bleachers. you sat wedged between your friends half-listening while principal higgins adjusted the microphone awkwardly.

“i’ll keep this brief” he started.

already a lie.

you zoned out almost immediately until one phrase suddenly snapped you back to attention.

“the speak up! program-”

your head lifted.

“-will officially be shutting down at the end of the semester.”

your stomach dropped.

“…what?” you muttered under your breath.

around you, barely anyone reacted.

a few students laughed.

someone yelled “finally.”

principal higgins kept rambling.

“unfortunately, participation has remained low, and despite initial hopes, there hasn’t been a significant increase in overall grades-”

your friends looked entirely unbothered.

“knew that thing was stupid” one of them whispered.

“seriously who even used it?”

you forced out a little laugh along with them.

but honestly? you barely heard the rest of the assembly. because all you could think was the guy. how were you supposed to talk to him now? would you still talk to him?

would he even want to?

“the website will officially close four weeks from today” principal higgins finished.

four weeks.

shit.

-

that night, the first thing you did when you got home was turn your computer on.

you probably would’ve anyway but now it felt different.

the machine hummed loudly while loading, and for once you sat impatiently tapping your fingers against the desk waiting for it to hurry up.

the second you logged in, you opened your messages.

then typed quickly:

uptowngirl: were you in the assembly today?

there was a pause.

then:

farrahfawcettspray: Yeah. I was literally just gonna ask you that

you leaned back slightly.

uptowngirl: it’s so stupid they’re shutting it down

farrahfawcettspray: Right? Some of us actually use this thing

uptowngirl: exactly

then after a second:

uptowngirl: okay maybe not for homework anymore

he replied immediately.

farrahfawcettspray: Yeah we definitely stopped pretending awhile ago

you smiled despite the weird ache sitting in your chest.

the two of you eventually agreed to just keep talking normally and when the site closed, it closed.

that was it.

when it’s over, it’s over.

simple.

or at least that’s what you told yourselves.

and somehow, after awhile, talking to him like usual made you almost forget anything was wrong at all.

-

the next day at school, you were heading toward your locker when you heard familiar voices echoing down the hallway.

tommy.

carol.

steve.

you tried ignoring them.

really, you did.

but then tommy loudly said, “god, some people at this school are actually painful to look at.”

carol snorted immediately.

you glanced over just in time to see them both staring at some poor freshman walking away red-faced.

your expression soured.

same old shit.

steve stood beside them leaning against the lockers, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. he barely chuckled, more out of obligation than actual amusement.

still, he laughed.

you rolled your eyes and kept walking.

honestly, you wondered if they’d ever actually grow up.

-

that night, you found yourself ranting about it online.

without names, obviously.

uptowngirl: some people at school genuinely act like they’re still twelve

there was a longer pause than usual before he answered.

farrahfawcettspray: Do your friends ever piss you off?

you blinked slightly at the screen.

that felt random.

uptowngirl: how so

another pause.

farrahfawcettspray: Like in general

your brows furrowed.

uptowngirl: not all the time

uptowngirl: friends aren’t really supposed to make you feel bad constantly

there was a moment before the reply came through.

farrahfawcettspray: Oh

you sat up a little straighter.

uptowngirl: is it all your friends?

farrahfawcettspray: Kinda

you frowned.

uptowngirl: then make new ones

almost instantly:

farrahfawcettspray: Not that easy

you stared at the words for a second then shrugged it off.

he was right, you guessed.

maybe he was one of the quieter kids at school. the kind who got stuck with shitty people because they didn’t know how to leave them.

you knew people like that.

still, the conversation stayed in your head longer than it probably should have.

-

a week passed.

three weeks left.

three weeks until the website disappeared.

three weeks until mystery guy disappeared with it.

you tried not to think about it too much.

failed miserably.

that night, your room was dark except for the glow of the computer screen when his message suddenly appeared.

farrahfawcettspray: Will i ever know who you are?

your heartbeat stumbled slightly.

you stared at the sentence for way too long before typing back.

uptowngirl: i thought you said when it’s over it’s over

uptowngirl: why does it matter?

his response came faster than usual.

farrahfawcettspray: Screw that

you swallowed.

uptowngirl: why do you even wanna know?

another pause.

longer this time.

then

farrahfawcettspray: Why don’t you?

you froze.

because honestly?

you didn’t have a good answer. there wasn’t one big dramatic reason, just your own stupid thoughts. your own worries.

what if he expected someone cooler? prettier? funnier?

what if meeting ruined whatever this was?

you stared at the blinking cursor for almost a full minute before finally typing:

uptowngirl: i don’t know

for once, he didn’t joke.

didn’t tease you.

just

farrahfawcettspray: Okay

the simple response weirdly made your chest hurt.

then another message appeared.

farrahfawcettspray: What if we compromise?

you frowned slightly.

uptowngirl: how

there was a pause before his answer came through.

farrahfawcettspray: The day the website closes is prom right?

your stomach tightened immediately.

uptowngirl: yeah

farrahfawcettspray: We meet then

your eyes widened slightly.

farrahfawcettspray: Not a whole big thing

farrahfawcettspray: Just somewhere behind the school or something

farrahfawcettspray: So we know

your pulse had started beating noticeably faster now.

you read the messages twice. three times.

farrahfawcettspray: And if it’s awkward or terrible or whatever

farrahfawcettspray: We just go back to our lives

farrahfawcettspray: Deal?

you stared at the screen.

your reflection stared back faintly from the monitor.

this suddenly felt terrifying. and exciting. and horrifying.

all at once.

but maybe he was right. what could really go that wrong?

slowly, you typed back

uptowngirl: okay

almost immediately:

farrahfawcettspray: Okay

your heart thudded harder against your ribs.

in three weeks, you’d finally know who he was.

-

the last three weeks somehow felt unbearably slow and way too fast all at once.

every day dragged.

every night disappeared.

it didn’t help that exam season had officially started, meaning every teacher at school suddenly decided their class was the most important thing on earth.

you were stressed constantly.

your room became a mess of textbooks, loose papers, highlighters, half-empty soda cans and crumpled notes. your desk lamp stayed on until stupid hours of the night while you studied until your eyes hurt.

still somehow, despite all that, the thing making your stomach twist the most wasn’t even exams.

it was prom.

well.

not prom itself, the reveal.

you wouldn’t exactly call it stress. more like nervousness that kept sneaking up on you at random moments.

because holy shit.

you were actually going to meet him and every time you thought about it for too long your brain immediately spiraled.

what if he saw you and regretted everything?

what if you did?

what if it got awkward instantly?

what if one of you didn’t show up at all?

you tried not to think about it.

failed miserably.

honestly though, exams distracted you enough that the days still moved quickly. surprisingly, you actually thought you were doing pretty well too.

and apparently mystery guy was absolutely not.

somewhere during the second week, your conversations somehow circled all the way back to how they first started.

him begging for academic help.

farrahfawcettspray: I’m dropping out

you snorted quietly at your desk before replying.

uptowngirl: dramatic

farrahfawcettspray: Just failed so hard i saw my future

uptowngirl: you said after the first exam you were “done trying”

farrahfawcettspray: Yeah well now i’m scared

you laughed under your breath then spent the next hour helping him study anyway. again.

you honestly should’ve charged him tutoring fees at that point.

-

when exams finally ended, there was only one week left until prom. one week left until you found out who he was.

after that, the teasing started.

mostly from him.

farrahfawcettspray: You nervous?

uptowngirl: not even slightly

farrahfawcettspray: Liar

uptowngirl: you wish

farrahfawcettspray: You’re gonna see me and faint

you rolled your eyes so hard you nearly gave yourself a headache.

uptowngirl: keep dreaming farrah

he immediately sent back:

farrahfawcettspray: You still call me that after all this time. Cruel.

still, despite your constant denial, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

you were nervous. terribly so.

thankfully, dress shopping with your friends ended up distracting you for at least one full day.

you all made an entire event out of it. trying on ridiculous dresses just to laugh at each other, eating greasy mall food afterward, arguing over colors and shoes and hairstyles.

for awhile, things felt normal again.

easy.

you ended up buying a buttercup yellow dress that honestly looked really good on you.

it complimented your skin perfectly, hugged your waist just right, and made you feel prettier than you expected.

at least if everything went horribly wrong, you’d still look hot doing it.

-

a few days before prom, the two of you finally made a more solid plan.

simple, easy. less terrifying that way.

at 8:00, he’d go outside to the field behind the school.

at 8:05, you’d follow after him.

that way nobody would really notice you leaving together.

you appreciated that because honestly? the idea of everyone finding out about this made you want to die.

-

then suddenly it was prom night and you were nervous enough to throw up.

your hands shook slightly while fixing your hair in the mirror, your mom fussing over you while insisting you looked beautiful.

which, honestly?

you kinda did.

the yellow dress looked even better all done up properly. your hair sat perfectly for once, your makeup actually cooperated, and when you looked in the mirror you almost felt bad for mystery guy.

almost.

prom itself was exactly what you expected.

too loud, too warm, too many people packed into one room pretending the decorations didn’t look cheap.

still, it was fun enough.

you drank several unfortunately non-alcoholic punch cups, mingled with your friends, danced a little when forced to, and spent most of the evening pretending you weren’t constantly checking the time.

then suddenly 7:58.

your stomach dropped.

7:59.

holy shit.

8:00.

you immediately looked toward the doors.

five minutes, five minutes until you met him.

for a horrible second, you were tempted to stand there and watch the exit like a hawk. just wait and see who slipped outside.

but no. no, you’d waited this long. you could wait five more minutes.

probably.

another part of you briefly considered just not going at all.

seriously.

you could stay right here, pretend none of this ever happened.

but then what?

go home? never talk to him again?

the website would probably be deleted tonight.

this was it.

your heart hammered painfully against your ribs.

one of your friends noticed your weird expression almost immediately.

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you lied quickly. “just hot in here.”

“want me to come outside with you?”

“no!”

they blinked at your immediate response.

you forced a smaller smile. “i’m fine. seriously.”

it still took another minute of convincing and multiple be safes and don’t stay gone forevers before they finally let you leave alone.

the walk toward the field felt endless.

seriously endless.

you were convinced the path had physically grown longer somehow.

your heels clicked nervously against the pavement while your mind spiraled violently. was it that guy from health class? was it the one you once saw picking his nose behind the bleachers? was it that angry dude always getting into fights?

your heartbeat got faster with every step.

then you saw someone standing near the benches by the field.

just the back of them.

but honestly?

anyone would recognize that hair.

steve harrington.

your entire body stopped.

what.

the.

fuck.

your brain completely blanked.

there was absolutely no way. no actual way.

you must’ve made some noise because before you could even think about turning around and sprinting back inside, he turned too.

his eyebrows shot upward immediately when he saw you.

you both stared at each other in complete shock.

then at the exact same time:

“you’re-”

you both stopped.

silence.

then slowly, awkwardly, you both nodded.

steve let out a breathy huff of disbelief before a small smile pulled at his mouth.

and honestly?

you couldn’t stop staring.

because somehow it made sense now.

the humor. the dramatic texting. the stupid confidence covering up actual insecurity.

oh my god.

you squinted at him suddenly.

“you don’t have a sister.”

his face immediately changed.

“…what?”

“you told me you picked the username because your sister was talking about the spray.”

steve looked away, then back at you, then dragged a hand down his face with a groan.

“yeah, okay, i lied.”

you stared then barked out a laugh.

“you use farrah fawcett spray?”

he pointed at you immediately. “swear to god if you tell anyone-”

you laughed harder, holding your hands up in surrender.

“okay, okay!”

his expression twisted into embarrassed annoyance while you grinned at him.

god.

of course it was him.

steve glanced awkwardly toward a nearby bench before nodding toward it. you hesitated only a second before following him over and sitting beside him.

for a moment, neither of you spoke.

it suddenly felt so strange hearing the voice attached to the messages.

then steve looked over at you, squinting slightly.

“so…” he said slowly.

you looked back at him.

he pointed vaguely.

“uptown girl.”

you bit back a smile immediately because the expression on his face was so genuinely baffled.

you nodded once.

“…yeah.”

he huffed out another laugh.

for awhile, the conversation was awkward, not horribly awkward, just strange.

you’d spent months talking nonstop and suddenly neither of you knew where to start now that you were face to face.

still, eventually it got easier.

little laughs slipped in naturally. comfortable silences too. you found yourself relaxing without realising it.

then finally you admitted, “i was not expecting it to be someone like you.”

steve raised an eyebrow.

“someone like me?”

“yeah,” you said honestly. “i thought i couldn’t stand you.”

he scoffed softly, glancing away.

“fair.”

you smiled slightly.

then he looked back at you.

“didn’t expect you either.”

you grinned. “upset it’s not someone who’ll sleep with you?”

he side-eyed you immediately, giving you the dirtiest look imaginable.

it made you laugh.

then suddenly he smirked.

“who says you won’t?”

you stared at him flatly.

he laughed quietly at your expression.

god, there he was. the real steve harrington finally showing up.

after awhile, you sighed softly and glanced back toward the school.

“i should probably head inside.”

steve nodded a little.

“yeah.”

“but…” you paused, trying to find the right word. “thank you for being my…”

you trailed off, and when you looked back at him, there was something almost hopeful in his expression.

“…friend” you finished quietly.

his smile softened immediately then he held his hand out toward you dramatically. you laughed under your breath before shaking it.

“yeah,” he said softly. “thanks.”

you started turning back toward the school.

then

“wait.”

you looked back.

steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before speaking again.

“can this not be… like, the end?”

you blinked.

“huh?”

“i mean,” he said quickly, “i still wanna talk to you.”

something warm twisted in your chest.

you sighed dramatically instead to cover it.

“do you have paper?”

he blinked at you.

“…obviously not.”

you rolled your eyes.

“do you at least have a pen?”

“maybe in my car.”

you nodded immediately. “okay. c’mon.”

he looked confused but led you toward the parking lot anyway.

once you got there, steve dug around inside the bmw until finally finding a pen shoved somewhere in the center console.

“ha” he said proudly.

you snorted before grabbing his wrist.

he looked startled as you pushed his jacket sleeve up slightly.

then realisation hit his face.

“oh.”

before writing anything, you paused dramatically.

“if i do this,” you said, “you have to get your annoying ass friends to leave me alone.”

steve smiled slightly.

“i’ll see what i can do-”

you gave him a look immediately.

“okay, okay,” he laughed. “fine. i’ll tell them to lay off.”

“thank you.”

carefully, you wrote your number across his forearm. his eyes stayed on your face the entire time, which absolutely did not make your heart beat faster. not at all.

when you finished, you stepped back slightly.

then quietly, before leaving, you said

“you’re better than them, steve.”

his expression shifted immediately.

you smiled softly.

“much better.”

for a second he just looked at you, really looked at you. then slowly, he smiled too. and somehow it looked nothing like the smug cocky smiles you’d seen in school hallways.

this one felt real.

you turned then, heading back toward prom with your heartbeat still all over the place.

and for the first time in months, mystery guy wasn’t a mystery anymore.

-

walking back into prom after meeting steve felt strange in the best possible way, like somehow the whole room looked different now.

the lights hanging from the ceiling seemed warmer, the music sounded less annoying, even the sweaty overcrowded gym somehow felt easier to breathe in. your cheeks actually hurt from smiling by the time you made it back to your friends.

which unfortunately meant they noticed immediately.

one of them narrowed her eyes the second you sat back down at the table.

“okay. what happened.”

you grabbed your drink quickly to hide your smile. “nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“seriously.”

another one gasped dramatically. “oh my god she kissed someone.”

you nearly choked on your drink. “what? no!”

“then why do you look like that?”

“like what?”

“like you’re in love.”

you rolled your eyes so hard it hurt, laughing despite yourself while they all continued trying to interrogate you. but honestly? you didn’t even mind.

because your chest still felt warm from sitting beside steve outside. from hearing his voice say uptown girl out loud. from realising that somehow, impossibly, the person you’d spent months talking to was him.

god.

if someone had told you months ago that the boy you couldn’t stand would end up becoming your favorite person to talk to, you would’ve laughed directly in their face.

yet here you were.

the rest of the night passed in this happy blur.

you danced with your friends until your feet hurt, got dragged into stupid prom photos you’d probably cringe at later, and every now and then you’d spot steve somewhere across the room.

sometimes he’d already be looking at you. every single time it happened, he’d smirk slightly. and every single time your stomach flipped embarrassingly hard.

-

somehow by the end of the night you ended up at an afterparty. you honestly had no clue whose house it even was. someone said some girl from another school was throwing it, and suddenly everybody was piling into cars and driving there like it was the event of the century.

the house was packed. absolutely packed. music blasted loud enough to shake the floorboards, people crowded every room, and the air inside was thick with sweat, cheap perfume and alcohol.

actual alcohol this time.

which explained why after your third drink you started feeling significantly warmer and significantly less capable of making good decisions.

still, you were having fun. a lot of fun, actually. you laughed so hard at one point your stomach hurt, though later you couldn’t even remember what was so funny.

eventually though the heat inside the house became unbearable. your head felt fuzzy and your skin felt sticky and suddenly all you wanted was air. so, you slipped outside quietly, shutting the door behind you with a relieved sigh.

the cool night breeze hit your face immediately.

“oh thank god” you muttered dramatically.

then your eyes landed on someone sitting near the side of the porch.

steve. he sat alone on the curb, cigarette between his fingers, staring down at the pavement.

you smiled automatically, of course he was outside. but as you walked closer, your smile faded slightly.

he looked pissed. not angry exactly, more upset. his jaw was tense and his shoulders were tight in that way people got when they were trying really hard not to let something bother them.

you almost considered turning around and leaving him alone. almost. but you were already too close now. plus, liquid courage was a beautiful thing.

when steve finally noticed you approaching, he quickly dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his shoe before offering you a tight-lipped smile.

“hey.”

“hey,” you answered slowly, stopping beside him. “what’s up with you?”

“nothing.”

you stared at him.

“steve.”

“i’m serious.”

“come onnn,” you whined dramatically, nudging his shoulder lightly with yours. “you tell me everything.”

his eyes flicked toward you at that, something softened there for a second. then he sighed heavily and looked down at the ground before lowering himself onto the curb fully.

you sat beside him immediately.

for a minute neither of you spoke. music thumped faintly through the walls behind you while cars occasionally passed in the distance.

then finally steve spoke quietly.

“i hope you’re right.”

you frowned slightly. “about what?”

he rubbed his palms together once before muttering

“about me being better than my friends.”

your expression softened instantly.

“what happened?”

he laughed quietly. not in a funny way, more tired. “what didn’t happen?”

you stayed quiet, letting him continue.

after a second he sighed again.

“they were being assholes to some guy inside.”

you immediately knew who “they” meant.

tommy. carol. probably half the people they hung around too.

“just relentless,” steve muttered. “wouldn’t leave him alone.”

he picked absentmindedly at the label peeling off a beer bottle nearby.

“i told them to stop.”

you looked at him carefully. “and?”

“and tommy started calling me a pussy.”

your jaw tightened immediately.

steve shrugged like he was trying not to care.

“said i’ve gotten soft lately.”

you hated how casually he said it, like he’d heard things like that a hundred times before.

“so i left.”

he gestured vaguely around them.

“and here we are.”

you sighed softly. for a second you just sat there looking at him, really looking at him. and honestly? he looked exhausted. not physically, just tired of pretending. tired of acting like somebody he didn’t even seem to like anymore.

you nudged his shoulder gently.

“they’ll probably get over it.”

steve huffed out a small laugh. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled slightly. “you are kinda the leader of the pack.”

that earned a real smile from him, small, but real. still, it faded quickly.

“that’s the thing,” he admitted quietly. “i hate that.”

you tilted your head. “then stop.”

“stop what?”

“being friends with them.”

he immediately gave you a look.

“you’ve literally said this before.”

“because i’m right.”

“i can’t just drop them.”

“why not?”

he opened his mouth. closed it again. then shrugged helplessly. “i don’t know. it’d be weird.”

you snorted softly.

“weird for who?”

“everyone’ll be up my ass about it.”

you shrugged lazily. “who cares?”

steve looked at you for a second like he genuinely wished he could think like that.

then silence settled again.

but honestly, your drunk brain couldn’t stay focused for very long. after a minute you suddenly stood up. “i’m going back inside.”

steve looked up at you from where he sat. then without thinking, you held your hand out toward him dramatically.

“c’mon, harrington.”

his eyes flicked down to your hand. for a second you thought he’d ignore it, instead he took it. you pulled him up with a grin.

“i’m gonna stay out here and smoke another cigarette first” he said.

immediately your nose scrunched.

“gross.”

he laughed quietly.

“then i’ll come in.”

you nodded once.

“okay.”

you and steve somehow never found each other again that night after that

-

break started almost immediately after prom.

suddenly there was no school. no exams. no teachers. just endless warm days stretching ahead of you.

and somehow steve became part of nearly all of them.

at first, it was mostly phone calls. almost every night.

which felt weird initially because now you knew who he was. you weren’t staring at a screen anymore waiting for little messages to appear. now it was his actual voice in your ear while you laid in bed staring at the ceiling.

sometimes you’d catch yourself smiling halfway through conversations for absolutely no reason.

you got used to it surprisingly quickly though.

you’d spend the day with friends or shopping or sitting around bored at home, and eventually every night ended the same way. talking to steve until one of you got too sleepy to keep the conversation going.

sometimes the talks lasted hours. about serious things, stupid things, everything.

one night you spent almost forty minutes debating whether cereal counted as soup.

it absolutely did not.

another night steve admitted he’d never actually learned how to cook anything beyond scrambled eggs and toast.

“how are you alive?”

then eventually, one afternoon, steve casually asked “wanna go out tomorrow?”

you blinked against the phone.

“…out?”

“yeah,” he answered quickly. “like, just us.”

your stomach flipped immediately.

“maybe the drive-in?”

there was this weird nervousness in his voice that made your chest ache a little.

“yeah,” you answered before you could overthink it. “okay.”

he picked you up the next evening at six.

honestly neither of you watched the movie. you tried, for maybe ten minutes, then somehow you started talking and never really stopped.

you learned steve hadn’t hung out with tommy or carol once over break.

that made you smile more than it probably should have.

because maybe he was finally realising he didn’t have to keep pretending to be someone he wasn’t.

at one point while absentmindedly eating popcorn, steve admitted quietly

“i think i like being just steve better.”

you looked over at him softly.

then he smirked slightly.

“or maybe i just like being farrahfawcettspray.”

you burst out laughing immediately.

god, you loved him.

well. not loved. probably, maybe.

okay maybe a little.

because after that first date, which neither of you actually called a date yet, things just naturally snowballed.

you and steve started hanging out constantly.

drives with the windows down and music blasting, shopping trips where he complained the entire time but still carried your bags, county fairs, late night fast food runs, movies, blanket forts. so many blanket forts.

once steve spent nearly an hour engineering one in his living room because apparently “structural integrity matters.”

his parents were never around, meaning his house quickly became your favorite place to be.

you’d never seen steve happier.

he laughed easier around you. acted softer, realer.

he didn’t have to be king steve with you, he could just exist.

and somewhere along the way, he realised he genuinely liked you more than anyone he’d ever met before which was terrifying.

on your side?

you were absolutely gone for him too. completely. hopelessly. but obviously you weren’t going to make the first move.

absolutely not.

you’d wait for when he makes the first move, if that time ever came.

-

surprisingly, it did.

it was nearing the end of the break, only one weekend left before school started again.

you already had plans with steve that night.

nothing unusual. a movie, some takeout.

normal.

but the second you got into his car, you noticed something was off.

he looked nervous, like genuinely nervous. you almost asked about it immediately but decided against it. still, the weird energy stayed the whole drive.

then he pulled into his driveway.

you reached to open the car door and suddenly his hand gently caught your arm. you turned toward him instantly.

he still looked nervous.

your stomach tightened.

“steve?”

he swallowed once before speaking.

“i’ve had some of the best conversations and honestly… some of the best times of my life with you.”

your expression softened immediately.

he laughed awkwardly under his breath.

“which is funny considering how we started.”

you smiled.

but before you could respond, he kept going quickly.

“and i want you to know i really like you.”

you stared at him.

“like really like you.”

he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“and i was wondering if maybe tonight could maybe be a date.”

your smile spread instantly, so quickly your cheeks hurt. but your silence lasted just slightly too long because immediately steve panicked.

“you don’t have to say yes,” he rushed out quickly. “i just wanted you to know-”

“steve.”

he stopped immediately.

you laughed softly.

“i like you too.”

his eyes widened.

“…you do?”

you laughed harder now.

“obviously.”

the smile that spread across his face right then honestly might’ve been your favorite thing you’d ever seen.

he squeezed your arm gently before grinning.

“c’mon then.”

then suddenly he looked ridiculously eager, which only confused you more when he immediately said

“close your eyes.”

you blinked. “what?”

“just trust me.”

laughing softly, you obeyed anyway.

he carefully led you inside while you tried not to trip over absolutely nothing.

eventually he stopped.

“okay.”

you opened your eyes and immediately melted.

the living room floor was covered in blankets and pillows, little lights hung around the room glowing softly, your favorite takeout sat on the coffee table and a movie was already waiting on the screen.

“steve…”

he shrugged immediately like it was nothing but there was a smug little blush sitting on his cheeks.

“it’s cute” you said honestly.

“yeah yeah.”

you grinned harder.

the two of you curled up together on the floor afterward, eating takeout and pretending to watch the movie.

mostly you watched steve slowly get sleepier beside you.

after the movie ended, his eyes were half closed already, hair messy from your fingers constantly running through it earlier.

you smiled softly then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

immediately his eyes opened.

before you could react properly, his hand gently cupped your face.

and then he kissed you.

properly.

finally.

and god it was everything.

his lips were impossibly soft.

the kiss started careful for about half a second before you both melted into it completely, finding rhythm naturally like you’d already done this a hundred times before. perfect. completely perfect.

when you finally pulled apart, steve looked at you with this expression that made you feel like your entire body might dissolve.

then he shifted slightly and pulled you down gently against his chest.

quietly, he murmured:

“i’m glad you decided to help me.”

you snorted softly against him.

“i’m glad you suck at chemistry.”

he laughed immediately and lightly smacked your arm.

eventually, somewhere tangled together beneath blankets and fairy lights, the two of you fell asleep.

and after that, everything naturally fell into place.

steve slowly drifted away from tommy and carol completely, he started hanging around different people. better people.

sometimes your people.

your friends met him properly and somehow immediately loved him, which honestly shocked you considering how much they used to complain about him.

but steve around you was different.

and now steve harrington, formerly known as farrahfawcettspray, was one of the most important people in your life.

and you?

you became his whole world.

-

Mother’s Day was going to be celebrated that afternoon for the simple fact that you’d already left for work by the time he’d gotten off. That was the unfortunate thing about the work schedule you had, but you still managed to make it work.

He’d been locked up during the two previous Mother’s Days that you had celebrated, so he wanted this one to be special. He’d had Charlotte make crafts with him, but also gone on to purchase some of your favorite things as well.

However, now he wasn’t quite sure if he’d done enough. Especially as he stared at the flowers that were wilted over. 

“What’s this?” Charlotte wiggled her way up towards where he was bustling around in the kitchen, brows raised and eyes twinkling as she looked at him in amusement. 

“These are the uh-,” Travis paused as he peered at the flowers again, “well I got these for mommy, but they’re looking a little-, I don’t know, sad? Man, what do you think?” He pressed a frown to his lips as he spun them around, wondering how they’d managed to get floppy so fast. 

“They’re sad daddy. Very sad.” She nodded her head as she looked at him seriously, lips pouted out as she broke the hard news to him. 

“Yeah, I thought so too,” he mumbled as he shook his head, “okay, so let’s go get more flowers. You down, dog?” Well, she was going to have to be regardless of what she felt. No way would he leave her here alone. 

“Yeah, dog. Duh. I down! Let’s go.” She waddled away, leaving him confused until she returned with the little handbag she’d been obsessed with recently. It was a blue star, and held all sorts of little trinkets in there. Like stickers, a gum wrapper, and all the toys she could stuff in there. 

Charlotte babbled the entire ride to the store, but he was quick to answer. He enjoyed all of their little conversations, even if they didn’t make sense half the time. She was really starting to get interested in dinosaurs, enough that he was beginning to research his own information on them. 

“Well that sounds like a uh,” he paused as he lifted her from her seat, holding her on his waist as he shut the door, “well the spiny one, you remember the name? Darn, I forgot. Hold on, I’ll look it up in a minute.” He promised as he placed her into the cart, knowing that he’d have to remember or else he’d forget. 

“Okay, daddy,” she hummed in appreciation as she kicked her feet back and forth, “cookie?”

“Uh, yeah,” he pressed his lips together, thinking for a long moment as he moved the cart through the store, “yeah, we can get a cookie. Maybe mommy would want a cookie too, do you think? I think so. Let’s get a bunch of cookies.”

“Yay! I love cookies. They’re so yummy. Daddy, do you like cookies?” She peered up at him curiously, tilting her head as she waited for him to respond. 

Her hair was neatly done, and she was in a pretty little floral dress that they’d dug through and found this morning. Her sandals even matched. 

“Oh yeah, I love cookies. I think they’re better when they’re a little crunchy though, you know? Uh like I think it’s better when you dip them into milk. If you do it with a soft cookie it just falls apart and it’s not as much fun. Crunchy ones are better, but I think your mommy likes them soft.” He probably looked ridiculous talking to her like she was more grown than she was, but Charlotte was a good listener and she was even better at responding. 

“I like them crunchy too. Crunchier the better.” Her little babbles filled them as he nodded his head, jerking his head back and forth as he searched for cookies. Though that wasn’t what they came for. 

Flowers. Flowers. He couldn’t forget flowers. And the dinosaur. He’d have to remember that too. 

“Except when they’re too crunchy. Then they just don’t taste right. You know? They’re all burnt and gross after that.” He continued to talk as he tossed a few bags of cookies into the cart. Just a few. He didn’t want to spend too much money on them when they had a cake waiting at home.

Shit. It wasn’t at home. He had to pick the cake up. Okay, he could do that. He wouldn’t forget that. Cake, flowers and dinosaurs. 

“I know, you’re right.” A smile fell onto his lips at the way she nodded her head in agreement. She was so sweet. A lot of her matched him, but he saw so much of you in her too. It was sweet. 

Travis weaved in and out of aisles before landing where he needed to be at, only to be met with an almost empty display. 

“Where’s all the flowers?” He stepped forward in disbelief, holding his hands out as he looked around to confirm he was in the right spot. He squinted, wondering why the world was being so cruel. 

“They gone. Poof!” A dramatic gasp left her as he sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to think. The local flower shop was always closed on Sundays, and she wasn’t particularly fond of him either. 

“Geez. Are this many people buying things last minute? What’s with that? Christ.” He did a big loop around the bin, taking out the little ones that were left. The scraps. They weren’t very stunning or pretty. 

“Christ.” Charlotte repeated, nodding her head and holding her hands on her hips. He winced. 

“Uh, let’s not say that okay? Anyways hold on. Look, look at these.”

Travis held out two bouquets, well a few of them in each hand as he presented them to Charlotte. It looked like he’d have to combine them to really make them work, but it was better than dying flowers. 

“Which flowers do you think, Charlotte? Which ones would your mom like better?” He watched as she stared for the longest time, examining them before finally speaking up.

“The pink ones, daddy. It’s so pretty, much prettier than those.” She wrinkled her nose as she spoke, like she was disgusted with the other choice. 

“You think so?” He was unsure, but he had no one else to ask or trust. Naomi was busy today, and it didn’t feel right to bother her over this. 

“Much better, daddy.” 

Travis trusted her as he finished up getting the items, only rushing back once more to get a vase to ensure that these stayed nice and pretty. At least he hoped that they did. He definitely didn’t have a green thumb. 

“What did you want me to look up, Charlotte?” He met her eye in the rearview mirror as she furrowed her eyebrows together, watching him curiously. 

“Daddy I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A little huff left her lips, like he was acting silly. He mumbled underneath his breath, thinking for a moment. 

Cake. He needed to get the cake.

That was surprisingly the easiest and smoothest part of their trip. Everything on the cake looked correct, clean and pristine. 

“Okay, that’s done,” he balanced Charlotte on his hip again, placing the cake in the back of the car gently, “we’ve got our list completed. I think? Right?” He looked at her, earning a little shrug in response. 

Damn it, what else was he supposed to remember again? Must’ve not been that important. 

By the time you arrived home he felt like he’d turned most of the day around. The wilted flowers went to Charlotte and he set up the livelier ones in a vase in the middle of the table. He’d also gone out and purchased your favorite meal, hoping it would make up for the last few years.

“What’s this?” You gasped as you walked in, grinning and still in your server uniform, “did you do this all for me?” A surprised look filled your features, like you honestly weren’t expecting it.

“Well, yeah,” Travis laughed as he rubbed his arm, “we wanted to make today special, didn’t we Charlotte?”

“The flowers were sad,” Charlotte commented as she took your hand gently, “but we got new ones. Look!” 

“Oh my, now those are just beautiful,” you complimented as you leaned forward to smell them, “mhm, so beautiful. It looks incredible in here. You guys didn’t have to do so much.”

“Daddy did most of it,” Charlotte continued, speaking before he could, “yep. It looks real good though.”

“She helped too,” he answered quickly, laughing nervously, “but I hope you like it. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do or what you wanted so-, I got a little bit of everything. And we got a present. Oh shi-, shoot. Where’s the present?”

“I get it!” Charlotte squealed as she raced off, making both of you laugh softly.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you told him gently, giving him a soft look as you leaned forward to peck his lips. He sighed deeply, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, “this is so sweet. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he felt bashful suddenly as he held onto your hips, “I just wanted you to have a good day. It sucks that you had to work or whatever.” He concluded as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around him softly.

“No, I love it. This was such a nice surprise.” His heart hammered in his chest, making him grin from ear to ear. 

He tilted your chin up towards him, lips dragging against yours softly to express just how joyful he felt at the moment. Your lips curled into a grin as you met his motions, sighing blissfully against his mouth. 

“Ah, it’s an Anklyosaurus. That’s what I was trying to remember.” Travis exclaimed as he pulled away suddenly, eyes widened as he held his hands up in surprise. 

“What?” You laughed as you looked at him incredulously, eyes widening in surprise. He flushed. 

“Well it was the dinosaur that-, oh never mind.” That didn’t matter. You did. This moment. Right now.