Anemoia

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

Through choices, friendship, and salad, he found his way to the path of the warrior. But he won't walk it alone.

Their path is just beginning, but this story is over.

Zelda heard whispers in every corridor. It was late, and the only light in this long hallway of Hyrule Castle came from moonlight dripping through stained glass windows onto the marble floors.

There was no reason to be paranoid. Zelda knew every inch of her enormous home by heart, and the only guard stationed in her wing of the castle currently, was the guard she sought.

Still, she shuddered to think of the consequences if she and her sworn knight ever got caught.

To be robbed of the beautiful nights that she would hold as her most treasured memories, just before The Calamity struck, seemed too cruel a fate to bear.

A gloved hand grasped her arm and pulled her into the darkness. Before she could even gasp, her back was against someone and another hand covered her mouth.

At the mere scent of his clothing, Zelda's eyes fluttered shut and she let her weight fall against Link.

His warm breath ruffled in her hair as he curled his arm around her torso. "Sorry to startle you, Princess."

Zelda exhaled a laugh as she turned around to face him, finally catching a glimpse of his warm gaze, glimmering at her even through the darkness.

She cupped his baby-face, drinking in every detail of the soft expression resting on her protector, who was so stoic in the daylight hours. "No, you're not. Sometimes, I think you enjoy our sneaking around just a bit too much."

He leaned forward to take a kiss but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Where are you stationed tonight?" she murmured.

Link had looked to be in a daze moments ago. Now his eyes sharpened and he took her shoulders in his hands. "The Princesses' personal quarters."

Zelda lowered her eyes, a small smile staying on her lips. She straightened Link's collar and lapels. "All alone?"

"Mm."

"With me?" Her gaze slowly returned to his big blue eyes.

"Yes, Princess," he whispered, that look on his face like he was in awe of her.

They stared into each other's eyes for a few long moments before Link wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her against him.

Zelda closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as his other arm tightened around her shoulders, and he dipped her sideways just enough to reverse the height-difference. He leaned down as she let her head fall limply against the crook of his arm.

"My love," she said airily just before Link plunged them into a kiss, invading all of her senses and robbing her of breath.

Even as the taste of his sweet, full lips against hers threatened to overwhelm her, she knew it would be a matter of seconds before they were running hand-in-hand to "The Princesses' personal quarters". In fact, that thought made the embrace all the more electrifying.

Nights like these preserved her alive.

Zelda felt time running out and calamity approaching through every second of every day.