general-kenobi357

Your baby, Charlie, loves Steve.

And why wouldn't she? Since the day you gave birth to her, he was there. He was the second person to hold her, the person who stayed with you during your entire stay in the hospital, sleeping in the chair by your bed. He was the one who babysat, who never left you and Charlie hanging. For the last three years, he had basically helped you raise her.

As for Charlie's biological father… let's just say it was Steve– 100, Eric– 0. He had never even met Charlie. He said he was on his way to the hospital, but he was really packing his bags and getting ready to skip town. It made the birth all the harder, trying to push Charlie out, all the while looking at the door for a man who would never come.

It took a week to realize you’d probably never see him again. He had a new number, a new state, a new address, and surely a new girlfriend and family.

But Steve stayed. Through the birth, the postpartum, the first words, the terrible twos. He was there for all of it.

So it was no surprise that Charlie loved him. You knew for a fact that besides you, Steve was her favorite person. He didn't have as much time for you and her with his new job and baseball team, but he was her favorite nonetheless.

Today, he was coming over just to spend the day with the two of you. You both had the day off because of a meeting he had at the school, and you were taking a personal day from the mechanics. Charlie was beaming; she was so excited to see Steve again.

You walk into the living room and hand Charlie her lunch, mac and cheese for the lazy day, and grin at her bright smile and shaky hands.

“ You excited to see Uncle Steve?” That's what you all agreed she would call Steve, even though you wished she could call him something else.

Because as much as Charlie loved Steve, you could bet you loved him even more. And again, why wouldn't you? How could you not?

He had been your best friend since… forever. You had experienced everything together. Like the prime example of you getting pregnant two years after graduation.

You couldn't help but love him. How he treated you, how he treated Charlie, it seemed you fell more and more in love with him every day.

But he was Steve the hair Harrington… and you were the single mom, abandoned by her babydaddy, and barely scraping by. You knew he would never feel the same. ‘Best friends’ is all you would be to him, and ‘Uncle Steve’ is all he would be to Charlie.

“ Yeah!!” Charlie squeaked.

You smile down at your baby girl as she starts grabbing at her lunch with her little hands. Then the doorbell rings.

Charlie squeals from her spot on the couch and immediately drops to the ground. You scoop her up and clean at her dirty fingers before putting her down and watching as she sprints towards the door.

You giggle watching her use all her strength to pull the door handle and open the door for Steve. You’ve tried to help her before, but she whines and pushes you away. Nothing is going to get between her and Steve, apparently.

You lean against the couch and smile when you hear Steve exclaim from the doorway, “ Well, hello princess Charlie!!”

You hear Charlie giggle, and a moment later, Steve is coming into the living room with Charlie on his hip, her face buried in his neck.

Butterflies dance in your stomach, and you desperately try to shoo them away. 

“ Hi there,” Steve kisses the top of your head since his hands are full, and your chest tightens.

“ Hi Steve,” you grin up at him and Charlie. “ Are we in the mood for mac and cheese?” 

Steve genuinely lights up. Honest to god jolts with excitement. “ Would it be bad if I said ‘god please yes’?” Your face heats slightly, but you laugh and walk to the kitchen. 

“ Wonderful. I have a bowl with your name on it.” You saw this coming. Some days, you felt as if he were your second child. Yours to take care of.

Okay lets not think about that.

After a moment your bringing him mac and cheese on the couch, the action so domestic you feel like lying on the ground and screaming. Charlie is still in his lap, and both of them light up when they see you coming, making you grin.

“ Mac and cheese for a fully grown man.” You murmur quietly, making Steve laugh.

You plop next to them on the couch, and things flow as they so often do when all three of you are together. Catching up on what happened during the time apart, Charlie trying to play with Steve’s hair, a natural rhythm and flow you’ve never experienced before.

It's nice. It always has been.

After all the catch-up, all three of you are watching Charlie's show. You don't know what it's about exactly, all you know is that it's bright and colorful, and on all goddamn day.

That's when it happens. When you would least expect it.

You're just sitting there in content silence, your thigh touching Steve’s when Charlie stands up, her little feet between Steve’s legs.

She places her hands on his face, making his cheeks look gigantic, and pouts at him. “ Daddy, can I have some juice, please?” She draws out the last word, almost whining, but you and Steve have already ignored her request in favor of focusing on what she called him.

Daddy…she called Steve daddy.

Both of your wide-eyed expressions meet each other, matching looks of shock.

You don't want to correct Charlie, that would break her little heart, but… she should be calling him that. Steve wouldn't want her to call him that.

You look Steve in the eyes and mouth, “ Maybe it was an accident.”

He dumbly nods at you, and suddenly you're up off the couch. “ I’ll get you some juice, baby.”

“ No! I want Daddy to get it for me.” There it is again. You hear Steve inhale sharply from the couch, and your heart splits in two.

You get this earthshattering juice from the fridge and bring it to the still pouting charlie. Her calling Steve…that twice in a row is not a coincidence, and now you have to say something to her.

“ Honey, what did you call Steve?” you prompt softly, in case you’re taking this the complete wrong way.

“ I called him Daddy.” Shes so sure. And she’s looking at you like you're stupid, like you’re the one who just threw this name out on a whim.

Steve looks paralyzed on the couch by her. His arms are still loosely wrapped around her, but it looks like his brain is far away.

You sigh, not wanting to do this to her… or yourself for that matter. “ Babydoll…I dont think its a good idea to call him that.”

Her big brown eyes look up at you, reminding you of Steve's, and you feel like you're physically getting crushed. Even with all the years of telling her that he’s ‘Uncle Steve’ and training your heart not to want this, it still hurts like hell in this current moment.

“ Well… that's because he’s not–” You stop talking when you hear a sniffle from in front of you.

You immediately reach out to take Charlie into your arms, but… she's not the one whose crying.

You look up, and tears are silently trailing down Steve's face. He looks absolutely crushed, and all of the words have left you. 

You completely shift gears. “ Charlie, baby, why don't you go get some toys from your room to show Stevie?” You whisper it softly at her, and she beams, already forgetting the conversation you abruptly ended.

She crawls off Steve’s lap and runs to her room, leaving you and him alone.

He sniffles again, wiping his face to try to hide his tears, and you place a hand on his shoulder. “ Steve? Are you okay?” It’s a dumb question, but what's a girl to do?

“ No. no im not okay” he croaks.

You scoot closer to him, and suddenly you're being pulled into his arms, and his face is in your neck, not unlike how he was holding Charlie earlier. “ Talk to me,” you murmur, your hand going to his hair.

He lets out a shaky breath, “ I…I wish I were her dad,” he says it so quietly you almost miss it.

But you don't.

A crying Steve Harrington clinging to you must have made you brave because you whisper back, “Me too, Steve.”

He lifts his head up, “ R-really?”

You sigh, “Of course I do, Steve. You're the one who's stayed for the long haul, the one who's helping me raise her. I wish that she could call you that every day, but i dont want you to be stuck with us… the broke single mom and the toddler. I would never want to hold you back like that.” You have no idea what compelled you to say that. To speak as if… maybe Steve wants you too. You're ready to immediately take it back, but before you can, Steve's lips land on yours in a chaste kiss.

It's over almost immediately after it begins, but it leaves you dizzy. Both of Steve's weirdly big hands are on your face, holding you, and you see a determined look on his face.

“ Hold me back? Honey thats exactly what I want… what I fucking dream about,” he breathes. “ I want to be with you, I want to raise Charlie… I thought that maybe you didn't want me that way, wanted to keep it just the two of you, and… Uncle Steve.”

Like a dumbass, the first thing you say is, “ wait you have feelings for me?!”

Steve nods, “Obviously, I do.”

“ Like romantic ones?”

“ Extremely”

You share a laugh, but soon your eyes start to water thinking of what comes next for the two of you. 

“ You really want that? To be a part of this… dysfunctional family?” you whisper it, still so unsure.

Steve wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest.

“ more than anything in the world.”

You finally let it rip and let out soft sobs into his chest. He just holds you and rubs your back; you have all the time in the world to figure everything else out.

You hear little feet running back towards you, and your mama instincts kick in, leaving steves chest and wiping your face so you don't upset Charlie.

“ Daddy, look!” she holds up one of her dolls, and instead of giving you a look of terror, Steve gives you a beaming smile before picking Charlie up and plopping her on his lap.

“ D-Dad’s here… you can show me.” His voice is clipped and filled with awe towards the child in front of him.

It's going to take a while for him to grow into the title, but you feel all three of you will enjoy the ride.

Series Masterlist

Woah thats it! Thanks to my literal goat @rhaenyrasflame for motivating me. Pls leave likes and reblog if you liked it, that would just make my day. Thanks for reading!

Eddie made a huffing sound, all faux offence and mockery. “It’s called exposure therapy, Harrington. Look it up.”

Steve looked to you for backup, brows raised expectantly, but you were far too used to this behaviour by now. Besides, the two boys were chest deep in the dark blue water now, Steve subconsciously floating further from you as he tried to wrangle Eddie towards the pool steps. And you found that the distance didn’t panic you as much as you once thought it would. You were still standing waist deep, happy to see your toes wiggle on the blue pool tiles.

Eventually Eddie checked the time on the cheap silver watch hanging from his wrist and cursed loudly, remembering he’d promised Gareth he’d help move some amps before band practice. He hauled himself from the pool in a shower of water, curls dripping onto the tiles as he shoved his feet back into his boots without drying them first.

“You two have fun,” he announced too loudly, pointing between you both. “No drowning. No weird sexual tension. Behave yourselves.”

“Get out,” you and Steve snapped, looking anywhere but at each other.

Eddie barked out a laugh at that, eyes too bright with vindication before he saluted lazily and disappeared through the gate, humming a song you didn’t recognise under his breath.

Quiet settled in his wake. The low hum of the pool filter continued steadily from somewhere behind you, bugs buzzed lazily in the trees beyond the fence line. Water lapped softly against your ribs where you stood in the shallows, fingers now curled over the edge of the pool in lieu of Steve’s arm. Somewhere in the distance, a lawnmower started up.

Steve exhaled through his nose and made his way over to you, careful not to splash too much. “Fuckin’ finally,” he muttered.

You snorted, a decidedly unattractive sound and you looked down at the water to hide your grin. Steve moved a little closer, shoulder brushing yours underwater. It shouldn’t have felt like such a big thing. It was barely even a touch. But fuck, your breath still snagged somewhere in your chest all the same. It felt like the water should have rippled from your body, bones rattling, heartbeat loud enough to make waves in the water.

“You okay?” he asked softly. It wasn’t exactly pity, nothing too gentle, just quiet enough to make you far too aware that Steve cared. Like he was constantly checking the weather inside your head, making sure the skies were still clear enough to continue.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah.”

Steve’s gaze caught your own, the steadily rising sun finally catching his features. Brown eyes turning gold, hair turning honey, skin turning bronze. “You sure?”

“Mhm.” You could only mumble, head nodding.

His eyes narrowed slightly like he didn’t fully believe you but he let it go after a moment, pushing himself away from the pool wall and motioning toward the middle of the shallows. “C’mon then,” he said. “Next lesson.”

You groaned immediately. “That sounds ominous.”

Steve grinned. “Nah. You’re ready.”

You wrinkled your nose, the distaste on your features more than apart t and the motion of it let you know your face was catching the sun, skin stinging. “People tend to say that before terrible experiences.”

The boy swam backwards, arms outreached, the water practically parting for him with every measured move. He grinned at you, watching you watch him. “You survived floating,” he offered helpfully.

“Barely.”

Steve barked out a laugh at that, loud and surprised, and god—it was addictive, making him laugh like that. His whole face changed when he did it. Softer and brighter, like summer had made him just for you.

“C’mon, when have I ever let you astray?” Steve held out his hands to you, water dripping from his forearms, beckoning you with his fingers in hopes you would follow him and after only the briefest hesitation, you did.

That alone felt monumental.

You sucked in a breath, resisted the urge to hold it, but you stepped forward all the same. Slow motion movements, like dragging yourself through a dream that was maybe once a nightmare, you followed Steve to the darker side of the pool. You gasped when the water hit your chest, a new cold lapping at your breasts until they were submerged too.

Your toes burned from staying up on them but still, you stayed, you didn’t panic. Steve noticed it too as he stood a foot away from you, his eyes warm, his chin dipped into the water. You could tell by the way his expression flickered into something almost proud.

“See?” he said quietly. “Already gettin’ better.”

The praise warmed you embarrassingly fast; faster than the sun, than the summer heat that was sticking to the skin that you hadn’t submerged.

“Alright,” he started, running a hand through his wet hair, “today we’re gonna work on going underwater.”

Your stomach dropped instantly, the quiet, gnawing ache turning into an open pit. Your heart fell into it, crashing between your ribs on the way down. “Oh absolutely not.”

Steve sighed like he’d expected that exact response. “C’mon.”

“No.” You didn’t have it in you to sound polite, to even attempt to make the word sound softer, more apologetic. The steps leading out of the pool looked like an ocean away. “Steve—.”

“You trust me, remember?” The boy’s words were much gentler than your own and he took a few steps towards you, hands up and laying across the surface like he’d catch you if you fell.

You felt the world tilt a little. “That was before I knew you were going to try to drown me.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed but you knew him well enough now to see the fondness there, the lift of his mouth that almost made a smile. “You are not gonna drown from putting your face underwater for two seconds,” he told you softly.

You wanted to be home. You wanted to be on solid ground in dry clothes. You wanted to kick Eddie’s bedroom door open and demand to know why he set this stupid thing up in the first place. Instead, you swallowed the lump in your that and gave a weak laugh. “You don’t know that.”

Steve smiled then, an awfully pretty thing that made it much harder to deny him of anything. He shrugged, slipped deeper into the water. “I literally do. It’s my job,” he grinned at you.

“Look, why don’t we just—.” Steve made his way over to you, chest rising from the water and he took your hands in his own. His gaze met yours, his expression turning serious. “Hey, look at me, yeah? I’m not gonna let you go, okay? I swear to god, I’ll be here the entire time. Nothin’ bad will happen.”

Water dripped from his nose onto his lips as he watched and waited, his words tumbling over you as you tried to separate them from the irrational fear that was making your chest too tight. You thought back to lakes and dark skies and darker water. Deep and endless with fallen branches and weeds growing from the sand you couldn’t see.

Your pulse stumbled, your breath hitched. It was easy to remember the hands that pulled you out when the same ones were holding you now. You stared at the way Steve’s fingers wrapped around your own, his big palms engulfing yours. He was warm despite the cool water, an anchor in the middle of Hawkins community pool.

“Okay,” you whispered, the word getting stuck and twisted in your throat. But still, an agreement.

Steve’s brows shot up in surprise but he hid it well, replacing his shock with a smile that rivalled the sun above. “Yeah?” He murmured, double checking as his gaze travelled over your face, searching for anything that would suggest you were going to change your mind. He found none. “Atta’ girl.”

But still, your face must’ve shown your fear, because Steve tried another approach.

“How ‘bout you just listen first?” His voice was practically honey, melted butter on a open windowsill, softer than you’d ever heard. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands and you forgot about the water kissing at your collarbones. “You don’t even have to fully go under today, okay? We’ll just practice until your comfortable.”

You could only nod but the moment was firm and resolute so Steve took it as a good sign. But even though you knew Steve was there to help, the deep end glimmered darkly behind him, a seemingly endless blue that stretched beneath the surface and your chest tightened instinctively at the sight of it. Steve followed your gaze immediately.

“Hey.” Gentle again, achingly so. “Eyes on me.”

You looked back, blinking quickly until you felt the prick of tears that had threatened to show themselves subside.

“There you go.” His tone dropped quieter still. “That’s all you gotta think about, alright? Not the deep end. Not the lake. Just me.”

Your heart turned traitorous and you wondered if he’d hear it the way you did when you fell into the lake, if the drumbeat you’d heard in your own ears would be loud enough for Steve to hear too. Steve seemed entirely unaware of the effect he had on people sometimes. Or maybe just on you.

He moved closer again until your knees almost bumped beneath the water and the sun was suddenly too hot. You watched the muscles in his shoulders, watched the movement of them ripple and twist as he held you closer to him that you would’ve deemed necessary. But you didn’t mention it, you didn’t move away.

“First thing,” he murmured, “you gotta learn how to breathe properly.”

You scoffed, a little offended. “I know how to breathe, Harrington.”

He grinned at you, lopsided and boyish. His hands squeezed your own and he mumbled, “well, that remains to be seen.”

You glared at him halfheartedly, a weak attempt at best considering you were still stiff with fear, clutching his hands like a lifeline.

“When your face goes underwater,” he explained, ignoring your expression, “you breathe out through your nose slowly, okay? Little bubbles. If you hold your breath too hard, you panic.”

“Little bubbles,” you repeated skeptically. You stared at the surface of the water, as if daring something sinister to appear from its depths. Instead, you saw the wiggling outline of your legs and Steve’s, your feet close to his, toes almost touching. “Little bubbles. Fuck—“

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” Steve whispered. “It’s easier than you think.”

You nodded as if you agreed with him, chest rising and falling a little faster than before and you steeled yourself, hands holding Steve’s way too tightly but he didn’t complain. He only squeezed back. But still, you couldn’t bring yourself to drop any lower into the water. Frustration crackled in you, tears pricking at your eyes again but annoyance for yourself surpassed the fear and you swore, blinking harshly at the blue sky as you tried to pull yourself together.

Then Steve let go of your hands and lifted his own carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull away before he touched you. “Can I?” he asked quietly.

Hawkins seemed too quiet then, like even the cicadas had stopped their buzzing to hear your answer. The filters and generators were merely white noise as you stared at the boy and his hands that were reaching for either side of your face.

You nodded before you could overthink it.

One hand settled lightly at the back of your neck, fingers threading gently into the damp strands at the base of your skull. The other brushed your jaw, callouses rough against your skin, a gentle scratch that sent goosebumps over your forearms, across your chest, and you hoped to god that Steve didn’t notice.

“Relax your shoulders,” Steve said softly. “Good,” he praised instantly when you did, your breath coming out in a small shudder as your body went a little limp. His thumb brushed over the spot near your ear and you wondered if it was deliberate, you wondered if he knew. “Now, tilt your chin down a little.”

You obeyed automatically, a mortifying concept that you would dissect later in bed when you were alone and too warm but Steve’s eyes stayed fixed on yours the entire time, warm and honey brown and impossibly steady.

“You’re safe,” he told you quietly. “Okay?”

Something inside your chest ached at the sincerity in his voice and now more than ever, you believed him. You could only more once, heart hammering, your hands reaching to wrap around Steve’s forearms, clutching at him as he held you, as he guided you.

“Atta girl,” he said again, his voice so quiet it sounded hoarse, a little rough.

God. Fuck.

“Now,” Steve continued, “I just want you to put your mouth underwater first. Blow bubbles. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” you echoed weakly.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart,” he smiled, voice dropping to an octave that was solely for you.

“And if I die?” You tried to sound serious, but maybe Steve knew you were just trying to buy some extra time. Your hands were tight around him, your fingers barely managing to meet as they held onto his wrists and his thumbs were stroking over the spots of skin they were touching, maddening circles that made everything seem a little fuzzy.

He snorted, the sound much more attractive than when you did it. “You’re so dramatic.”

“All I’m saying is, you’ll have to be the one to break the news to Eddie,” you shrugged. God, you felt like you were babbling, panic mixing with a dry humour that felt clumsy as the words tumbled from your mouth. The water was so close to your chin, your mouth, your nose. “Besides, you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

Steve didn’t say anything about breaking the news of your demise to your best friend but he did say: “I’ll miss you as soon as this lesson is over,” he murmured lightly. “Now, c’mon. Give it a try.”

Your heart nearly stopped functioning altogether. Because what the fuck was that supposed to mean and how were you supposed to focus on your breath now? You stared at him for a second too long before finally inhaling, careful and cautious, and then you started bending your knees.

The water crept toward your chin immediately. Every instinct screamed at you to jerk back upright, the shock of the water near any part of your face a sign of something awful to come. The bottom of the pool suddenly seemed too far down.

Steve’s hand tightened slightly against your neck. Not crushing but a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbed over the damp hair there, his eyes fixed on your own as he bent down with you, following you the entire time. “You’re okay,” he reminded you. “Slow breaths.”

You tried. Really, you did.

The second the water touched your lips panic sparked hot beneath your ribs, but Steve stayed right there, close enough that your knees brushed his underwater.

“Blow out,” he encouraged gently. “That’s it.”

You lowered your lips beneath the surface and immediately sputtered. Chlorine filled your mouth, a too clean taste that was cold and sharp ans shocking against your tongue. You couldn’t help it, you sprung back up from the water, coughing and embarrassing amount.

Steve caught you before you could stumble backwards, hands leaving your neck and jaw to grip at your waist. “Easy,” he soothed quickly. “Easy, sweetheart, you’re alright.”

He was watching you with wide eyes, as if he was worried he’d pushed you too far. But he held on, the ripples you’d made from your dramatic exit from the water circling you both. The sun was beating down hotter now, higher in the blue sky above but mortification burned through you warmer than any Indiana summer.

“I hate this,” you croaked.

“I know.” His thumbs rubbed absentminded circles against your sides before he seemed to realise what he was doing and quickly let go. He stayed near, cheeks pink and flushed looking, from the sun or his proximity to you, you weren’t sure. But his voice was achingly gentle when he told you: “But you still did it.”

“Barely.”

“Still counts.” He smiled, lopsided and soft.

You groaned dramatically, letting your forehead thunk lightly against his shoulder and you felt how he froze underneath you before his finger poked at your ribs. “You good there?”

His voice vibrated through his chest into your skin.

You wanted to die. Honestly, it seemed like the only reasonable solution to everything that had happened that morning. You wondered if today would’ve been easier if you’d taken Steve up on his offer to walk you home last night, if it would’ve been different now. If something would’ve happened. “M’gonna drown myself voluntarily now,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

Steve let out a breath of a laugh and warm hands settled carefully at your upper arms. He guided you backwards, just an inch or two, just enough so he could find your gaze with his own.

“Hey.” Sincerity threaded through every word. “You’re doing good. Seriously.”

“Really?” You asked reluctantly, brows crinkled, cheeks and neck warm. You hated how you sounded, how you felt. Weak and scared and a little bit pitiful.

But Steve nodded and grinned, thumbs tracing down your arms, leaving droplets of water in his wake. “Yeah, really. You wanna stop for today?”

You considered it, for a second, maybe five. But the surface of the pool had stilled, blue and calm and still very clear. You saw your toes, saw Steve’s. It wasn’t that deep, the logical conclusion was right in front of you. If you went under, you could stand and come straight back up.

You could.

You should.

Fuck.

You glanced at Steve, lips twisting as you thought about what to say, heart racing at the prospect. Fuckfuckfuck. “Uh, can you hold my hands again?”

Steve didn’t question you, but his brows rose all the same as he offered you both his hands. They engulfed your own, still amazingly warm despite the cool water and he waited for your next instruction.

He didn’t expect you to say: “I’m gonna just— dunk. Do it with me.” You swallowed tightly and then remembered yourself. “Please?” You added.

Steve looked too shocked to speak. He considered telling you to hold on, to wait, to maybe take some baby steps before leaping into the literal and proverbial deep end but you looked like you’d made your mind up. Determination set in your pretty features, your hands gripping his like they were your only lifeline.

So he nodded, held onto you a little tighter and moved close enough for his toes to touch yours. “Ready?” He whispered.

You nodded, too sick to speak.

“Three, two, one…”

Fuck. You bent your knees.

The water climbed your cheeks, cool against skin that was still warm from the sun. For a split second, panic flared bright and familiar, something instinctive and sharp and awful but then Steve squeezed your hands and the world disappeared.

Everything became blue.

The sounds of summer vanished. No incessant cicadas, no distant lawnmowers, no rustling leaves. The pool filter became a distant hum, softened into something that barely existed at all underneath the surface.

Your entire world was now just water and light. And Steve.

You blinked underwater, surprised that you could, wondering when the fear would spike, when absolute horror would set in, when things would turn too murky to see. But sunlight fractured above you in ribbons of gold, breaking apart against the surface. It turned Steve into something dreamlike, his features softened by the movement of the water between you. Not that there was much.

His hair floated slightly around his forehead, a wild thing and his eyes were on yours, his lips stretched prettily into a wide smile. Tiny bubbles escaped from your nose, little, tiny bubbles, exactly like he'd told you.

The realization hit slowly, rolling over you like a summer morning; warm and lazy, like you were just waking up from a too long sleep. You were doing it.

You were underwater and you weren't drowning. Your lungs weren't burning, an unblinking darkness wasn't reaching for you. There was no lake, no too strong current and fuck, weeds weren’t wrapping around your ankle, pulling you downdowndown.

Only blue tiles beneath your feet and Steve in front of you.

His eyes widened slightly as he saw understanding settle across your face, a pretty flicker of understanding in your own gaze and pride bloomed in him, an uncontrollable thing that broke free from his ribs. He couldn’t say it, not underwater, but you could tell. It made you smile too, big enough that water kissed your teeth and you jerked slightly at the coolness of it, but Steve just held you tighter.

The water shifted between you as he drifted towards you a little more. Hands tugging at your own, knees bumping, chests impossibly closer. If you hadn’t already been holding your breath, you were sure you would’ve.

His fingers remained wrapped around yours, shifting from cupping your hand to linking between your own, a wholly intimate thing, far more so than the two of you half naked beside each other. The strangest thing happened then, a whole thirty seconds after you’d been brave enough to disappear under the surface. The fear that had occupied so much space inside your chest, that awful, burning knot that had lived in your chest for so long simply just… loosened. Like unclenching a fist you hadn't realized you'd been holding for too long.

It hadn’t disappeared, not yet. Not that quickly. But it unravelled slowly, unwound itself from the spaces between your ribs and your heart and your lungs and it gave you space to breathe. It let you feel the water on your skin, it let you blink against the chlorine and watch the way the sun danced above you.

The expression felt ridiculous underwater, but you grinned wider still, lips parting as if you could laugh, and Steve saw it. His own grin appeared instantly, bubbles leaving his lips, his nose. They popped and fizzed between you both, reaching for the surface that was only a short swim away.

God. He was beautiful. Even distorted through the rippling water, especially in the shifting light of the sun, shapes of yellow and light blue scattered themselves over his chest, his cheeks. They caught his eyes, turned them from brown to honey, his cheeks warm and sun-kissed, even under the water.

A stream of silver bubbles rose from your mouth too, racing toward the surface, floating upward between you. You waited for the water to rush into your throat, to floss your lungs but nothing happened apart from a slight burn, a reminder that you would need to breathe soon. But staying down here worn Steve, alone and in the quiet together, seemed worth the sting.

The moment into something weightless and for a beat, neither of you moved. You simply floated there, hands linked and suspended in blue. The surface shimmered above your heads like liquid glass and sunlight painted Steve in different shades of gold.

His eyelashes looked darker underwater. His freckles softer. Closer. Jesus Christ, everything felt closer and the world outside the pool seemed impossibly far away.

The party, the achingly awkward goodbye. The walk home Steve never got to give and the disappointment you'd seen him try to hide.

All of it drifted somewhere beyond the water you were floating in. And whatever you were feeling, thinking, Steve seemed to feel it too. His grin faded, not completely. It just softened into something else, the corner of his mouth relaxing as his gaze lingered on yours. Underwater, here with the boy, you found you couldn’t look away.

The sunlight moved across his face and your own, a shifting mosaic of gold and blue. Your pulse stumbled and water made everything feel too slow. Dreamlike and hazy and so not real.

Steve's eyes dropped briefly to your mouth. The motion was tiny, a barely there thing but god, you still saw it. Heat flooded through you despite the cool water surrounding your body and for one absurd second, you wondered if he could hear your heartbeat. You wondered if the water carried it, if it echoed between you.

Reality caught up with you then, a full fifty one seconds after you first sunk underneath the blue surface. You felt the burn in your lungs get too hot to ignore, reaching your throat and the panic that had lived inside of you for so long came back, a rattling thing that had you planting your feet on the pool tiles and pushing up. You burst from the surface, droplets flying as you sucked in a breath and Steve was there too, hands still holding yours, fingers intertwined.

Steve looked just as startled by the moment as you felt, his chest heaving although you were so sure he could hold his breath much longer and more comfortably than you could. He shook his head, not daring to let go of you to sweep his hair back and dark brown curls were plastered to his forehead instead.

It made him look younger, boyish. With freckles and water droplets stuck to his cheeks and you were breathing too hard as you stared at him, wide eyed and in wonder. You just weren’t sure what had you feeling more astonished: the fact that you had willingly gone underwater or that Steve Harrington looked like he wanted to kiss you.

And then the world crashed back all at once. Sunlight. Heat. Birdsong. The stupid hum of the filter. Your gasp. Steve's laugh.

Water streamed down your face as you broke through the surface beside him and you sucked in a breath so large it hurt. Steve was laughing openly now, head tipped back and the sound was a joyous, ecstatic thing that made you smile so hard your cheeks ached.

“I did it,” you breathed. The words sounded almost astonished.

Steve looked at you and his laughter softened, pride taking place over excitement and all of it was bright enough to rival the sun over your heads.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. You hadn't let go of his hand but he hadn’t let go of yours either. “Yeah, you did.”

The water lapped gently around your chest, the surface of it still moving from your exit from below, the trickle of water surrounded you both as it dripped from your soaked hair, the lobes of your ears, the tips of your noses. Steve’s eyelashes were spiked together, too pretty to look at

Neither of you moved, to be honest, neither of you seemed particularly eager to. And somewhere beneath the celebration and relief and your racing heartbeat, a different realization settled between you.

You'd gone underwater.

Somehow the part that lingered in your mind wasn't the fear or the dark or the suffocating memory of the lake. You didn’t think about the weeds and the sludge that caught you from below, ankles trapped, your shirt wrapped around your ribs, branches clawing at your feet.

It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.

Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.

The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.

You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.

His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”

You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.

You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.

Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.

“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”

You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.

“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”

Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”

You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.

The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”

A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.

“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.

It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.

“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”

He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”

You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.

“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”

“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.

You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.

“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”

“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”

Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.

You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.

So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.

You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.

“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.

You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?

Would it matter?

It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”

His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.

Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.

The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.

“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”

You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.

He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”

It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.

He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.

If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.

But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.

Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.

But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.

And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.

Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.

Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.

Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks. 

But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower. 

Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year. 

So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.

So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident. 

His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you. 

But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed. 

“You doin’ okay?” 

You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”

You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike. 

“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.

Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”

You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car. 

The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.  

You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right. 

You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached. 

“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”

It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice. 

You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”

Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush. 

“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.

You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that. 

“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”

Steve  grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”

The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else. 

“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”

You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once. 

Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each. 

“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”

—————

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave. 

He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned. 

“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”

You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh. 

“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”

So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones. 

He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”

You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot. 

But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you. 

You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it. 

“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”

You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth. 

Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor. 

“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”

You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes. 

“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”

The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time. 

“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”

You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs. 

“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said: 

“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”

So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone. 

“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”

You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too. 

You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you. 

One foot came off of the pool floor. 

“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”

Another foot came off the tiles. 

You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface. 

“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”

It all seemed too much to do at once. 

Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath. 

“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”

You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”

The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass. 

“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”

You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out. 

“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back. 

Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water. 

“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”

You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again. 

“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”

And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face. 

Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water. 

He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether. 

It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun. 

Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit. 

Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze. 

He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“You’re doin’ great.”

The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine. 

There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline. 

You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket. 

“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”

So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad. 

Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—

You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before. 

But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock. 

Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp. 

“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”

But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed. 

Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water. 

It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up. 

But nothing happened and your body didn’t move. 

On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it. 

Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake. 

He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling. 

“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”

If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way. 

Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him. 

You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline. 

Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones. 

Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place. 

But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”

Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer. 

You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still. 

And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.  

“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”

Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt. 

“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”

The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk. 

A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence. 

Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall. 

Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day. 

The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths. 

Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building. 

He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall. 

Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too. 

Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this. 

“You can change in there.”

You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet. 

So you said nothing.

Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head. 

You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam. 

When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes. 

You didn’t know where to look. 

“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”

Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday. 

And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you. 

It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue. 

“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.

You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be. 

The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much. 

So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two. 

Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”

You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too. 

Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people. 

But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck. 

Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up. 

You took a step back. 

“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.” 

You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end. 

He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly. 

You stared back. 

The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet. 

You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom. 

So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way. 

“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”

You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own. 

“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”

It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps. 

“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle. 

You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you. 

“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”

There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool. 

“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”

He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty. 

“Two more steps, alright?” 

Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively. 

Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”

Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore. 

Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”

You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”

Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”

You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed. 

The two of you had assumed your usual positions for the night—his arm slung around your waist and your legs intertwined with his. His chin rests at the top of your head as you’re pressed against him.

Ryland is restless—his feet keep fidgeting under the blankets and his eyes don’t want to close. He keeps track of your breathing, the way your stomach rises and falls under his palm.

Up, down.

Up, down.

You’re not asleep just yet, he can tell that much—but he knows that if he waits too much longer, you will be.

“Do you…” he finally starts, voice all soft and quiet as his words enter the dark room, disturbing the silence that blankets it. “Want to switch?” He finishes slowly, hope clinging to the edges of his words. He cringes, eyes closing briefly as he hears how fragile his voice sounds.

“Switch?” You whisper, voice thick with sleepiness, before turning your head back to look at him. The room is dark, but you can make out the way his eyes dart around the walls, refusing to land on yours.

“Yeah—like positions. Sleeping positions. I’ll be the little spoon tonight—we could take turns? Maybe?” He’s uncertain, voice ticking up in a question at the end.

You let out a small laugh, turning your body so that you’re on your back now. His hand is still placed on your stomach, thumb circling the soft skin where your—his, shirt has risen up from the movement. Your eyes are still trained on his, which have finally met yours. A boyish smile is plastered on his lips.

“Turn over.”

You barely get the words out before he’s flipping onto his opposite side and pressing his back into your chest. Your hand snakes its way over him, your palm pressing firmly against his chest as you make yourself comfortable. You place a kiss against the back of his neck, your nose pressing into the short hair at the base of his skull. He smells of that apple scented shampoo he sometimes uses. It must have been on sale this week.

Ryland melts under your hold, his limbs loosening and all the tension he was feeling is gone now—evaporating instantaneously right under your fingertips. He grabs your hand in his and raises it to his lips, pressing a few gentle kisses against your knuckles. You expect him to let go, but he doesn’t, keeping your hand in his grasp and your knuckles pressed to his lips. His thumb now rubs slow circles into the back of your hand.

“Good night, sweetheart.” His lips move against your bones as he speaks, then another gentle press of a kiss against your knuckles for good measure. You feel his lips curl up into a smile.

“Good night, Ry.”

The next morning over coffee he will tell you how he hasn’t slept that good in weeks and that you must be some sort of miracle worker. The two of you will come to an agreement on taking turns being the little spoon, but it won’t last long.

Before you know it, Ryland Grace is the little spoon every single night.

Grace refused at first but eventually relented..

You wouldn’t retire for the night just yet- you couldn’t- not when the mission to save humanity rest unfinished before you.

Besides, you’d never been one to go to bed early. Especially not when there was a job unfinished.

So you went back to the ship, tidied up a bit, took inventory, paced around…

Your first mistake was sitting down in the cockpit under the excuse of checking the fuel tanks. Your second mistake was grabbing the thin blanket from your bunk because it was always cold on the ship.

You don’t remember nodding off yet you awake with a jolt. You couldn’t have been sleeping for long but the still vivid sensation of falling told you it was long enough for you to have a nightmare.

You weren’t afraid of falling- you were a pilot- you’ve had your fair share of heart stopping drops in your lifetime. But it had still shaken you, leaving you clammy and tense.

At least back home you knew you would eventually come back down if you fell. In space, you no longer had the comforts of gravity. Panic rises in your chest at the realization.

Panic wasn’t good- panic makes you stupid. Needing to snap yourself out of it you blink through sleepy tears and crept back to the tunnel as quiet as you could, hands clutching the blanket.

Your shoulders drop at the sight of Grace and Rocky laying on either side of the glass barrier. They were safe- you were safe, you remind yourself, cautiously walking around the failed zenonite model Grace had been working on to sit near the pair.

Covering yourself with the blanket you leaning back against the wall of the tunnel- intending to fall back asleep when a soft call of your name grabs your attention.

Grace’s head peaks out from under the quilt, looking over at you from his spot against the glass.

“Rocky was right,” you murmur, “shouldn’t have gone off by myself.”

Grace doesn’t say anything- he simply blinks sleepily at you a moment longer before lifting up the quilt covering him in a silent offer.

Oh.

You hadn’t expected that. But you were cold and if panic made you stupid- your tiredness made you completely brainless. The want for warmth and comfort selfishly overtook you and you accepted his offer, slipping under the soft weight and drifting off to a nightmare-less sleep.

The unspoken ritual of sharing the quilt would carry on through the rest of the mission.

Progress- you thought idly one night- who would’ve thought the thing to cure your anxiety induced insomnia was middle school science teacher, rock like alien, and a comfy quilt?

Then it was time to go fishing and whatever process you made quickly unraveled.

There was nothing you could’ve done to prevent the fuel leak. Even if you had piloted perfectly Grace and Rocky had already calculated the distance they needed for the collector- you had to fly that low. It just happened to be low enough for the ship to tear itself apart.

Grace had ejected the leaking fuel bays but was knocked out after being slammed against the control board. You had stayed conscious enough to turn the centrifuge system on, getting gravity back to normal.

Your memory after that is fuzzy.

You remember Grace’s chair being stuck, trapping him against the panel. You remember blood pouring from an open wound on his head and crying as you desperately tried to pull the chair back.

Later you would realize that Rocky’s ball had cracked after being thrown against a wall. Which explained the vague memory of Rocky’s screams and hisses as he broke out to help you. You would pass out after helping him get Grace to Armando. Both of you slumped against your respective sides of his enclosure in the lab.

That was where Grace would find you two when he came to.

He was sure he hadn’t been out for a long time yet your dark circles and rustled hair made it seem like he’d missed days.

You stay there until Rocky wakes up. Grace had tried to gently urge you to stand up and stretch your legs or go rest on an actual bed but you refused to leave the room. Knowing you weren’t going anywhere, he did the best he could, wrapped you in the quilt, and got to work on the taumoeba.

The only time you fell asleep were unintentional and when Grace sat next to you, offering a shoulder to rest your head (which he would then gently lower you onto his lap so your neck wouldn’t hurt when you woke up).

When Rocky had finally woken up you were a mess. The culmination of days worth of stress and little sleep caught up to you as you sobbed against the panes of his ball.

You slept peacefully then, with Rocky and Grace watching over you.

When the three of you finally arrive on Erid, you expected things to change.

The Eridians had been kind enough to build you and Grace separate bedrooms. They’d even asked if you wanted two houses but the time spend in close proximity made it difficult to even imagine not sharing the same space anymore.

You were grateful for the privacy- in concept you were overjoyed to have your own room again! But the first night officially moved into your new home you couldn’t sleep. Not without Rocky standing guard or at the very least, Grace’s warmth beside you.

So after an hour of tossing and turning you finally tip toe over to Grace’s room.

It was weird seeing him in a bed for once. He looked cozy, domestic- all bundled up in the sheets and blankets. You decided on joint custody of the quilt when the two of you were dividing things from the ship. Now, with the picture perfect view you had of him tucked underneath it- you were grateful you let him take it first.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he whispers as you came closer.

“I’m blaming Rocky,” you whisper back, crawling under the covers.

“Mhm me too,” he opens his arms, giving you space to press yourself against his side before wrapping them around you.

Now, even more kids had their full, undivided attention on you, closely monitoring your little interaction while their food went cold. To them, getting to witness their teachers’ love lives unfurl was infinitely better than eating a stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

The most peculiar thing was Ryland’s reaction to your close proximity. His students watched in amazement as their favorite clumsy, shy, nerdy science teacher who often tripped over his own two feet seemed entirely unaffected by the fact that you were a few inches away from his face. In fact, he might have leaned in.

Olivia rubbed her eyes and squinted, not even trying to disguise her blatant staring at this point. Before she could check again, Ryland was already speed walking back to his classroom, no doubt hustling to prepare the science lab he had planned for today before the flood of kids came back from lunch.

She turned back to her classmates, many of which were still watching his retreating figure. Others had their eyes trained on your classroom door, lost in thought. 

She started the conversation everyone was itching to have. “So, we all saw that, right?”

A chorus of agreement echoed amongst the small crowd, quickly devolving into hushed gossip and frantic whispers.

“Is it just me, or did Mr. Grace have a little more pep in his step just now?”

“Oh totally— and he definitely didn’t want to leave her classroom.”

“What about her? Did you guys see the smile she gave him?”

“What about the smile he gave her?”

Before the debate could continue, the bell rang, forcing the chatty kids to trudge back to their classes in unanimous disappointment at their conversation getting interrupted. Unbeknownst to you or Ryland, this was only the first of many times this hot topic would be brought up amongst your prying students.

— - — - —

The second time was during a school assembly.

Students and faculty alike were gathered in the multi-purpose room, with the kids sitting to face the stage and the teachers lining the walls of the large room. The principal, an abysmally monotonous man, continued to drone on about rules, regulations, and upcoming events, much to everyone’s disappointment.

Your kids were supposed to be paying attention, but a large number of them had their heads twisted in awkward positions, trying to sneak a glimpse of you and Ryland.

The two of you were standing in the back with less than a foot of distance separating you. Periodically, Ryland would lean down to whisper in your ear, making you giggle at his words. In turn, you’d reach up on your tiptoes to whisper something in response, and he’d nod with a soft smile.

A few teachers nearby shot you looks of disapproval for being disruptive, and you mouthed a quick apology to your peers. Not thirty seconds later though, your head was inadvertently turning back to Ryland, and he did the exact same. 

Despite being told off not a minute earlier, the two of you continued to talk in hushed voices, trying to be even more discreet than before. Honestly, you guys might’ve been worse than the children.

James, a particularly rowdy student in Ryland’s class, turned to Sarah, who could easily match Olivia’s smarts in your English class. Both of their watchful eyes never left the two of you at the back of the room. He murmured to her, “I get it’s cramped, but they definitely don’t need to be standing that close.”

“Agreed,” she muttered back.

Olivia wasn’t far, and decided to join in on the conversation. “Mr. Grace is totally blushing every time she reaches up to whisper in his ear.” She had no qualms about exposing her science teacher, which made James and Sarah unexpectedly laugh.

Before they could get out another word, the meanest, crankiest teacher to ever curse Grover Cleveland Middle School with her presence snapped her head towards them, shushing them ten times louder than they were speaking.

“If you three don’t stop talking, it’ll be detention for a week,” she snarled, beady eyes watching them like a hawk.

Regretfully, they clamped their mouths shut, but the three of them, along with everyone else that had been watching you and Ryland, were all thinking the same: you two seemed awfully close, both physically and socially.

— - — - —

The third time took place after school, during the murky month of December.

The San Francisco weather decided to attack the school with an onslaught of rain, making it almost impossible to walk in the open without getting assaulted by vicious pellets of water. 

A cluster of students huddled inside the safety of the school building, waiting for their parents to roll up to the front of the campus so they wouldn’t get completely drenched on their way to the car. 

Olivia, while looking through the window at the dismal conditions outside, noticed you standing under an overhang alone. You had your coat drawn tight around you, trying to keep the frigid air out and your body heat in, and your eyes periodically wandered to the screen of your phone, like you were waiting for someone. Perhaps someone was coming to pick you up?

Before she could continue that thought, a familiar teacher’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hey kiddos,” Ryland waved to the small group as he approached. “Waiting for parents?”

He was met with a series of nods, making him crack a smile. “Alright, make sure you all get home safe, yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Grace,” some students said in unison.

Ryland chuckled and continued towards the door, raising his hand as a silent goodbye. With his other hand, he carried an umbrella, well prepared for the harsh rain.

Most of her peers looked away as Ryland pushed the door open, but Olivia kept her eyes trained on her teacher. As soon as he stepped outside, he made a beeline for you, already starting to open the umbrella.

He must have called out your name, because you turned to greet him, perking up with a warm smile. An easy conversation flowed between the two of you as he made his way over, but the next part made Olivia’s jaw drop.

Like clockwork, the two of you set off towards the parking lot, sharing the umbrella without missing a beat of your conversation. Ryland’s larger frame made you seem small in comparison, and he was mindful to keep the umbrella lower and slightly more on your side, ensuring you were fully protected from the rain. His left shoulder, on the other hand, started to get slightly wet, but he seemed to pay no mind as he listened to you talk with a genuine smile.

“Guys. Guys!! Look!” was all Olivia managed to say before a horde of students rushed to the window, trying to get a better view of their favorite teachers recreating this classic romance trope. 

“Move, I can’t see ‘em!”

“Hey you’re shoving me!”

Then, a collective hush fell over the group, and Olivia craned her head around her peers to get a glimpse at what they were staring at. A small gasp escaped her too.

It was difficult to see due to the far distance and the reduced visibility in the rain, but it was unmistakable. There was Ryland, covering you with the umbrella as you got into the passenger seat of a car. After closing the door behind you, the science teacher walked around the front of the car, got into the driver’s seat, and slowly reversed out of the parking spot. 

He wasn’t just walking you to your car. He was driving you home.

The silence lasted a moment longer before the group erupted into excited chatter, each kid trying to talk over the other.

“What the hell was that??”

“He offered her a ride home, obviously! It’s raining hard, so he’s being a gentleman!”

“They seemed so comfortable with each other though, what’s that about?”

“What if they’re dating?”

That last question caught everyone’s attention. Sure, it had definitely crossed everyone’s minds, but most brushed it off. It seemed unfathomable. Could their beloved, klutz of a science teacher really pull someone as gorgeous as you?

“No no,” someone finally cut in. “Mr. Grace wouldn’t have the guts to ask her out in the first place.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Maybe he’s just crushing on her!”

A chorus of awww’s resounded throughout the room, and the debate of your relationship status was momentarily settled.

— - — - —

The fourth time shattered all of their conspiracy theories of Mr. Grace merely pining over their English teacher, because it was clearly something more.

It was finally that time of the year— prom. Most kids stood in clusters with their friends, while other, braver souls worked up the nerve to ask their crush to dance. The low lighting provided a moody atmosphere despite the upbeat party music, and compliments were constantly getting thrown around over dresses, shoes, and hair-dos. A typical middle school dance.

Of course, all school events required supervision, so you and Ryland volunteered to chaperone this year. You guys were standing in the back of the room, looking like you were engaged in normal conversation. You in a modest black dress, Ryland in a simple dress shirt and tie.

What you didn’t know though, were the dozen or so pairs of eyes locked onto your figures from the opposite wall, hidden in shadow and whispering furiously.

“Dude, look at the way he stares at her!”

“He’s so in love.”

“Quit staring so hard, they’ll notice you.”

Meanwhile, you and Ryland were casually chatting away, completely oblivious to your students’ antics. 

You sucked in a breath, a little hesitant to bring up something that’s been gnawing away at your mind for the past few months. Ryland, as always, immediately noticed. “What is it?” he asked. 

“Oh, I dunno,” you sighed.

He gave you an expectant look, silently questioning if you really thought he wouldn’t notice something’s been bothering you. It was true— no one could read you as easily as Ryland.

“Fine fine,” you smiled, “it’s just… have you noticed our kids acting a little, um,”

“Weird?” he finished with a knowing look.

“Exactly. Recently, if we’ve been talking, I’ll turn away from our conversation and find a handful of students staring at me from across campus. It’s unsettling.” You shuddered just thinking about it.

“I get it,” Ryland agreed while surveying the area. His eyes met the small group of kids that had been staring at you guys, all of whom were now looking at the ceiling, the ground, each other— anywhere other than in your direction. It was painfully obvious. You shared a look with Ryland, both of you shaking your heads before bursting into laughter.

Suddenly, a slow song came on, and you turned to Ryland with a soft smile. He was quick to offer his hand, which you accepted with a mock curtsy. In your little corner, the two of you swayed to the soft melody, lost in your own little world. All that mattered in the moment was the feeling of each other’s arms and the warmth of your shared love.

As you let the rhythm wash over you, you turned to Ryland, voice barely above a whisper. “You think they’re watching?”

“Oh I know they’re watching,” he huffed.

You let out a small giggle, amused by how involved your students were in your relationship. Brushing off the thought, you decided to just let teenagers be teenagers, instead focusing your attention on the way Ryland’s strong hands held your own.

And your students on the other side of the room? They were going ballistic while watching you. 

“So he really pulled her? They’re dating?!”

“This is insane.”

“Someone needs to document this.”

“Why are they so cute??”

— - — - —

The school year was finally coming to a close, and everyone agreed they simply couldn’t leave the case of you and Mr. Grace unsettled. After much deliberation amongst the class, they all came to the consensus that today was the day. They were going to get answers out of you guys, whether you liked it or not.

They went to great lengths to corner the two of you. Olivia planted a note in your class, trying her best to mimic Mr. Grace’s handwriting: Meet me in my class after school.

You didn’t think much of the forged note. Ryland often slipped you random things, so you folded it up and tucked the parchment away, packing up to head over to his class like you often did.

In Ryland’s classroom on the other hand, he was wrapping up a lecture on cell anatomy just as the final bell rang. He clapped once, starting to erase the whiteboard. “Alright kiddos, we’ll finish this up tomorro—”

As he turned around, he was more than a little stunned to see his entire class still seated, desks cleared and their full attention bouncing between him and the door. 

“Oookay, what’s going on,” he said slowly, trying to follow their gaze. “Did I imagine the bell ringing, or..?”

And then, when you walked in, it all clicked for Ryland. He turned to his students, gaze sweeping over their smug smiles and looks of anticipation. 

You gave a little knock to signal your entry, “Hey Ry, you wanted to see...” you trailed off, noticing about thirty kids staring at you when you entered. You slowly made your way to his side, watching the class with a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. “What’ve we got here?”

“This is a set up,” he sighed. Not a question, but an observation. He placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head, unsure of whether to smile or frown, so he opted for shaking his head in disbelief. 

As the designated question asker, Olivia raised her hand, and Ryland nodded in confirmation for her to speak. “When did you start dating?”

They expected flustered denial, a poor cover up story, or for you guys to dodge the question completely. But to everyone’s shock, you and Ryland turned to each other simultaneously… and started laughing. 

“Wh— What’s so funny?” James asked.

“Yeah, haven't you been trying to hide it this whole year?” another chimed in.

You waved your arms dismissively, shoulders still shaking with laughter. “Well, not exactly.”

Ryland just pinched the bridge of his nose, still in disbelief that his students thought you were dating.

“So, what’s your relationship then?” Olivia asked. Everyone leaned in, awaiting your response.

With a sly smile, you glanced at Ryland, then looked over the group of teens practically about to fall out of their seats in anticipation. “Well,” you started. “Let’s just say… I use my maiden name while teaching.”

Olivia let out a huge gasp, and the others whipped their heads toward her, clearly still confused.

“What?”

“Olivia, what’s that mean?”

Kids were clambering to get her attention, but Olivia just continued to stare at you in shock, and you just gave her a small nod of encouragement. Slowly, you reached to interlock hands with Ryland, and he squeezed your fingers with affection. He turned to give you a helpless smile, like he was silently apologizing for his students’ behavior. You just softly chuckled, choosing to lean your head on his shoulder instead.

 “You— she—” Olivia could barely get the words out.

Her peers groaned in frustration, “what is it?!”

Then, you dropped the equivalent of an atomic bomb in the middle of the room— you raised your left hand, flashing a modest diamond ring adorning your finger.

Everyone was stunned, and Olivia confirmed what they were all struggling to believe. 

“It means,” she said slowly, “Her last name is Grace.”

“It’s your lucky day, Peña!” 

Javier glanced up from the pile of paperwork scattered across his desk to acknowledge the voice coming from the doorway to his office. 

“What do you want, Carter?” 

Javier's voice half grunted in response, his eyes shifting back down to the pile of papers on his desk. In his doorway stood his office mate, Detective Eric Carter. When Javier began his new position with the Laredo County Sheriff's Department 4 months ago, it took everything in him to keep from calling his new co-worker Steve. At a glance, he looked just like his old DEA partner. Tall, lanky, with a wiry head of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. 30 seconds into meeting Carter, it didn’t take long to realize looks were about the only thing he and Steve Murphy had in common. Eric Carter was a human ray of fucking sunshine, and his chipper demeanor was blinding Javier this early in the morning. 

“It’s your turn!” Carter replied in a sing-songy voice, slapping a red file folder onto Javier’s desk, covering the papers he had been sorting through. Javier picked up the folder and crinkled his brows in confusion. He turned the cover towards him, holding it just far enough away so that his squint trying to read its contents wasn’t too obvious. God, he just needed to give up and buy reading glasses already. 

As he got the folder just the right distance away from his face, he gave Carter a look that said absolutely fucking not. The folder read D.A.R.E school assembly lessons, with a picture of the Lion mascot giving a big thumbs up in his black D.A.R.E shirt. The office had recently been recruited by Laredo Public School District to start giving presentations to the Elementary schools, using the program aptly abbreviated for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. 

“Just take away the “R” and rearrange some letters and it spells DEA!” Carter laughed to himself. “It’s like it was made for you!” 

“No.” 

“Sorry Peña, you’re bottom of the totem pole this week. We’ve all done our time, and you’re the last one left in the office who has yet to go present. It’s not even that bad, you just basically go talk to these kids for an hour and tell them drugs are bad, don’t do them, yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the gist, and then it’s done. Piece of cake!” 

“I’m not fucking going.” Javier scoffed. “I have shit I have to get done.” Gesturing in annoyance to the piles of papers on his desk, now in disarray from the folder being thrown on his desk. 

“Not a choice, Mr. Peña.” 

A new voice passed by the doorway, and a much broader frame stood behind Carter’s. Chief Deputy Dean Morris, had joined the conversation, knowing that it wouldn’t end easily for Detective Carter if he kept harassing Javier about it. Morris was head of the department, and what he said, went. Coming from a background in the Air Force, Morris knew how “civilian” a position at a sheriff’s department must have felt for Javier after his time in the DEA. 5 years ago, it seemed fair to think that neither of them would have assumed paperwork, mundane training programs, and now, arguing over talking to 10 year olds about the dangers of doing drugs would have played any importance in their jobs. 

 “Right of passage. Ever since the school board dropped this on us last year, we’ve all done our time. Believe me, no one wants to do it, but like Carter said, today is your lucky day!” Morris’s voice oozed with sarcasm, knowing that Javier would absolutely hate every second of what he was about to have to do. 

“You lucked out on your day to go too, Peña. It looks like you get to go to the school with the hot teach-OW! Hey! What was that for?!” Morris had slapped Carter’s shoulder before he could get out the rest of his sentence. 

“Keep it in your pants, okay Carter?” 

Carter let out a huff of defeat. “I’m just saying, he could have gotten worse days to go…” 

“Just read from the notes, let the kids ask a couple of questions at the end and then you’re on your way. Easy peasy. When you get to the school office they’ll let you know where to go.” 

Javier opened his mouth to rebuttal, but before he could even get out a word, Morris held up his hand to stop him. 

“Not a choice. I’ll have Carter help you finish sorting paperwork, so don’t try to bullshit me and tell me that you have too much work to get done.” 

Javier let out a sigh of frustration that was a little louder than he intended it to be. His hands rested on his forehead as he rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying. 

“Fine. But this is one and done.” 

“Good man.” Morris reached over Javier’s desk and gave him a pat on the shoulder. He and Carter started to make their way out of Javier’s office when Morris turned his head over the back of his shoulder. 

“Carter’s right about the teacher, too. She’s a catch.” He winked and shut the door behind him. 

Javier gathered his things and made his way through the office, passing by Detective Carter’s desk. 

“Have funnnnnnn! Say ‘hi’ to the hot teacher for me!” Carter mocked, twinkling his fingers, waving at Javier. 

Without saying a word, Javier flipped him off, and kept walking. 

Settling into his truck, Javier set down his belongings in his passenger seat, and opened up the red file folder to see where his unexpected journey was taking him. 

This is fucking ridiculous He mouthed to himself as he cranked up the AC in the truck with one hand, and rummaged the other through the items on the seat. Reaching next to him, he grabbed and opened the folder, and grazed his index finger down the inside cover, where a schedule of schools, dates, and times were printed. At the bottom, he found 

5/27/97- Alma Pierce Elementary School, 12:00-12:30 pm, school cafeteria

 Javier’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He read the line several times, re-checking the location and date to make sure what he read was true. 

Fuck. 

To any of his other co-workers who had been tasked with giving one of these D.A.R.E. presentations, the elementary school they were assigned to that day most likely held little to no significance. Of course, out of the 16 elementary schools in the Laredo Public School District, Javier was assigned to the one that held the most significance to him. 

The school that his mother taught at for her entire teaching career before she passed away. 

Since returning home from Colombia, Javier had been avoiding human contact like the plague. He had returned as somewhat of a “hometown hero” after his accomplishments with the DEA but couldn’t have felt further from it. He had become Laredo’s hottest topic. 

“What was it like to help catch Escobar?! The Cali Cartel?!” 

“We’re so proud of you, the DEA couldn’t have done it without you!”

“When are you going to come over and tell us all about Colombia? We want to know everything!” 

Each question, compliment and conversation about his time in South America was like a knife to his heart, slowly twisting with each word that came out of someone’s mouth. He could feel the guilt and burden of his time away growing heavier and heavier as he politely smiled through these conversations. 

But worse than the strangers who felt entitled to berate Javier about his time in Colombia, were his friends and family who he had been actively avoiding since returning home. Besides his father, Javier hadn’t seen anyone close to him since his mother’s funeral 8 years ago. It hurt Javier knowing that he had returned to Laredo a changed man, haunted by the things he had seen and done. His mother’s closest friends, those that she worked with at Alma Pierce Elementary School, had promised to fulfill Lucia Peña’s dying wish that they would look out for Javi and made sure that he came home okay. 

Well, Javier was home. He wasn’t quite sure how to break it to them that he wasn’t really okay. 

As he drove and parked in front of the school building, Javier’s heart began to beat heavier in his chest. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he started at the entrance to the school. He couldn’t decide if the feeling swirling around in his stomach was comfort or terror, knowing that Alma Pierce Elementary looked exactly the same as it did the last time he was here 9 years ago with his mother. 

He did know that part of that feeling definitely had to be terror, as he began to think about the fact he was about to be interrogated relentlessly by his late mother’s closest friends. Might as well sign these women up to work for the DEA- they were probably more terrifying than anyone Javier had encountered in his time working there. 

After a few more deep breaths, Javier gathered his things out of his truck and headed towards the main doors. Each footstep felt like he was walking through wet cement, questioning if it was too late to turn around.

Practically tip toeing in to the office, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible, Javier let out a soft “Hi, I’m from the sheriff's department, I’m here for-“ 

Before he could even finish his sentence, the office secretary, a tiny and graying Señora Gutierez was thrusting her arms across the threshold of the office desk to wrap Javier in an impressively strong hug. 

“JAVIER PEÑA. I cannot believe it’s you! oh my sweet mijo, look at you! The older you get, the more like Chucho you look, dios mio! Why haven’t you stopped by?! We have all missed you so much, what have you been doing? It is so good to see you!” 

Here we go.

“Hola, Señora.” Javier half grunted from how tight he was being squeezed. “It’s nice to see you too.” 

“I have lots to ask but I know you need to go, or they will know that this old woman has been running her mouth, making you late.” Señora Gutiérrez began shooing her hand, as to send Javier on his way. 

Javier chuckled. He felt his body begin to ease slightly, letting the familiarity of friendly faces bring him a small sense of comfort. 

“I would hope after this VERY LONG time that you have not been to see your mamà’s dearest friends, you still remember where the cafeteria is?” She gave Javier a playful grin.

“Sí, Señora.” 

“Everyone will be so happy to see you, mi amor. Now go, or everyone will be after me for keeping you!” 

Grabbing his things, Javier made his way down the bustling hallway. Tiny faces stared up at his, as he shuffled his way towards the cafeteria doors. There, he was greeted by a sea of children chatting amongst themselves and 3 smiling faces, patiently waiting for his arrival. 

“JAVI!” 

Out of any of the faces he was bound to see today, these were the 3 he would recognize anywhere. The ladies who stood before him were the fellow 3rd grade teachers who had taught alongside his mother for almost 20 years. 

The ladies surrounded him in a bear hug, Javier quietly noting to himself that he had definitely reached his hug quota for the next several weeks. 

“It’s so good to see you, Javi.” The first of the 3 women spoke, her words sweet like honey. Linda Garcia was short and stout, her gray bangs brushing over the brim of her glasses as she looked up at Javier. Linda had always had a soft spot for Javi, and reminded him the most of his mother. 

“It’s good to see you t-“ 

“PENDEJO. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WHY HAVE YOU NOT CALLED?! WE SWORE TO YOUR LATE MOTHER THAT WE WOULD TAKE CARE OF YOU, AND IF IT WASN’T FOR CHUCHO KEEPING US UPDATED TH-” 

“Maria, let the boy breathe, this is the first time you’re seeing him in years, and this is the route you’re going to take? Dios Mio.” 

Standing next to Linda were her 2 partners in crime, Maria Rogers and Estelle Lopez. 

If you didn’t know Maria Rogers, you would be shocked to see the ferocity that came out of such a tiny woman. Javier’s mother used to refer to her “el vòlcan”- a matching nickname for her fiery personality. 

Estelle, on the other hand, was one of the most soft spoken people that Javier had ever meant. If she had something to say, he knew it was time to listen. 

“Hi everyone, it’s really great to see all of you.” Javier meant it. As overwhelmed and flustered as he was, it brought him peace to know after the hell that these last 8 years had been, some things never change. 

“MRS. ROGERSSSSSSS. WHEN IS THIS GONNA START?! I’M HUNGRY AND I KNOW LUNCH IS AFTER THIS.” 

“BE QUIET, MICHAEL. YOU KNOW WE’RE STILL WAITING FOR ONE MORE CLASS. YOU’RE SO ANNOYING.” 

“AM NOT!” 

“AM TOO!” 

Chatter and fidgeting amongst the 3rd graders instantaneously increased, the crowd of children now growing restless. 

“Oi, these niños will be the death of me, thank goodness this school is almost done.” Maria mumbled under her breath, the other 2 teachers rolling their eyes and laughing in agreement. “We’re just waiting on one more class, but they should be here any minute.” 

Overhearing the conversations shouted across the cafeteria, Agent Carter’s voice wandered through Javier’s thoughts. 

“You get the school with the hot teacher!” 

Obviously, Carter was not referring to the 3 women who stood before him. Although he wasn’t one for crude office banter, Javier couldn’t help but wonder if Carter’s statement really held true. With a genuine curiosity and a slight smirk on his face, he leaned back, arms crossed and asked, “Yeah wait, there’s still four 3rd grade teachers right?” 

The women all shot him a look that took him aback, their eyes burning a hole though Javier. 

“Jesus, you men really have a one track mind don’t you. Yes, I’m sure all of your friends from the department have been more than happy to tell you about our new teacher who just joined us. She is a sweet girl, and I am sure she is sick of getting harassed by all of you.” 

“Maria, I was just asking a quest-“ 

“Javier Jesus Peña, I have known you since before you were born. Wipe that smug look off your face, I know exactly why you asked the question”. 

Yup, things haven’t changed a bit. 

Before he could retort, the cafeteria doors began to swing open, followed by a long line of children, and you. 

“1, 2, 3, eyes on me!” 

“1, 2, eyes on you! 

God, the amount of times you’d had to repeat that phrase as the end of the school year approached, you might as well have gotten it tattooed on your forehead. 

“Okay 3rd graders, we’re already 5 minutes late for our assembly, and I’m sure the other classes are not going to be happy that we’re holding them up, and probably making us late for lunch after” 

The chatter stopped. With only a few days left in the school year, you were running out of ammunition to keep your class’s attention. At least the threat of being late to unch would work for now. 

A little hand shot up from the middle of the line you were about to trail down the hallway, like a mother duck with her babies following in line. “What’s your question, Jaun?” 

“Do you know if it’s gonna be the same guy as last time? He was kind of scary.” Mumbles of agreement came from the voices surrounding him. The Laredo Sheriff's Department had sent in a slew of their employees each week for these presentations, and you had been convinced none of them had ever even attempted to talk to a child. Last week’s presenter, Martin, Michales, something like that, had spent the large time of his presentation talking about getting murdered by the Cartel, leading to tears from many of your students, and a prompt request to not have him back. 

“I don’t know sweetie, it seems like there’s someone new who comes every week, but I sure hope it’s not him.” The class let out a small giggle. These were the moments you loved about your job as a teacher, especially now that you had moved to an older grade where your kids finally picked up on your subtle jokes with them. 

You had been with your class since after Christmas break, filling in as a long term sub for a 3rd grade teacher on maternity leave. The job followed an impromptu move from Chicago to Texas after breaking off your relationship with your boyfriend (regrettably, almost fiancé)  of 3 years, who had been cheating on you behind your back for 2 of them. You felt like an idiot that you hadn’t seen it coming, but it still hit you like a ton of bricks. Paul had plenty of red flags, but your optimistic demeanor and the mounting peer pressure of watching your friends get married and start their own families made you feel trapped. It still stung to think you would have settled for a miserable life with Paul out of the fear you wouldn’t find anyone else. 

 Desperate to get as far away from Illinois as possible, you packed your bags and made the nearly 4 day drive down to Laredo, Texas. Laredo,  a strange choice to many, but made nothing but complete sense to you. Your best friend since the 2nd grade, Sarah Alverez, had moved to Laredo your Freshman year of high school, her father accepting an agricultural engineering position in ranching country. You spent every summer until college visiting her and her family, having nothing but the fondest of memories for a sleepy town outside of San Antonio. It was a stark chance from the hustle and bustle of Chicago suburbia where you had spent your childhood. Long, carefree summer days made you promise yourself that if you ever did leave Chicago, you’d find yourself here. Well, you had made good on your promise, but for reasons that still made your stomach churn in gut-wrenching knots. 

You and your class journeyed down the hallway to the cafeteria. Thank god it was a short trip, because you were far too tired to put up with the bickering and shenanigans the back of your line often seemed to plague you with. Just as you were entering through the cafeteria doors, you promptly turned around, your body facing the line as you walked backwards further into the cafeteria. “Isabella and Jorge, keep your hands to yourself! You two know you’re not supposed to be in line togeth-” Before you could finish your sentence, the back of your body collided with one behind you that you hadn’t seen since turning around to stop a near WWE smackdown in the hallway. You had bumped into kids more than once who weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, but it became very clear, very quickly, that the body you had backed yourself into was not a child’s. 

The body you had backed yourself into was much taller and broader than yours. Two large hands firmly, but gently grasped around the middle of your upper arms to catch you without stumbling backwards any further. An overwhelming scent of cedarwood and sage cologne filled your senses. This obviously was not one of your coworkers, either. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorr-“ you started to apologize as you came to face the body that had stopped you in your tracks. Your apology halted as you were met by incredibly broad shoulders covered by a navy blue suit jacket. As your gaze continued upwards, the shoulders were followed by a strong square jawline and plush lips, the upper covered with an impeccable mustache. Continuing up, you were met with the most beautiful, deep chocolate brown eyes, whose soft stare soon met yours. There was no denying that this man was devilishly handsome. Realizing that you had most definitely been starting too long, you restated your apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were behind me.” Your eyes shifted away from his and darted down to the floor. 

A small smirk formed on his face as he looked down at you. He didn’t realize it, but he couldn’t help it. You were wearing a yellow sun dress that hit just above your knees, covered by a light washed denim jacket. Your dress swayed beautifully as he watched you take your last few steps backwards, making him question himself if he let you run into him on purpose. You smelled like vanilla and something sweet that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Pink embarrassment flooded your cheeks as a soft smile on your face met his. He now too realized that he had been staring a little too long, and that he still had his grasp on your arms as you had turned around to look at him. 

“No it’s okay.” He let out a small laugh under his breath. “I just didn’t want you to go too much further and trip over anything else.” He gently let his hands leave her arms, and watched as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face and looked back up at him. 

“Should we go sit down now?!” A small voice shouted from your line, causing you to snap back to reality, realizing that you had a line of children still standing behind you. 

“Yes, sorry sweetie” you replied, brushing your dress down back into place. “You guys can go find a spot behind Mrs. Rogers’ class.” Your class passed by you, paying no mind to the interaction that just took place between you and the man you had just bumped into. 

As you watched your class pass by, you turned back around to find the man still staring at you, causing your heart to palpably beat in your chest. The same strong hands that had caught you were now extended in your direction, offering a handshake to introduce himself. “I’m Javier Peña, uh Javi, actually” as your hand met his, realizing how small they felt in his grip. “I’m from the Laredo Sheriff's department, I uh, I’m the one that’s supposed to be doing the whole presentation thing today.” Your hand stayed in his as you introduced yourself. God, his hands were something else.

His grip loosened as your co-workers began to move towards you. You began to realize how hot your face felt, knowing that you were flushed with embarrassment not only from almost falling into a crowd of 10 year olds, but from how awe struck you were by the man who had caught you.

The three women on your 3rd grade team had taken you in as one of their own when you started your job here. They had been more than happy to step in to help you with whatever you needed, including trying to set you up with every single man your age that they knew. With the exception of the parade of overly forward sheriff's department members who had been at your school every Wednesday. Those 3 had no problem telling those men to fuck right off and leave you alone (in the nicest way possible.) The ladies slowly crept closer towards you, sly grins stretched across their faces as they giggled like school girls. 

“OH, so it looks like you met our sweet Javier!” Linda said with over exaggerated enthusiasm. 

“Sweetie, you’re SO good with the technology around here, you know how us old ladies are. Maybe you could help him set up the video he needs for his presentation today?” You knew damn well these women knew how to press play on a VCR. You grimaced your face at Maria. While you couldn’t see your face, you were absolutely positive your expression was screaming “Oh my God, could you please make it any more obvious that this man is insanely attractive and you don’t need to add to the embarrassment after I already ran into him like an idiot?!” 

“Yeah, of course, I’d be more than happy to help!” You pointed towards the stage that sat in front of the cafeteria. “Just come this way and I’ll show you how to set it up.” 

Following behind you, Javier leaned his head down towards yours. “Must be the most complicated VCR set up I’ve seen in a while.” 

You let out a giggle. “Yeah, they're all very sweet, but not the most skilled with anything that has to do with technology. When our principal had mentioned the idea of us potentially getting a computer lab, they just about had a heart attack. Setting up the TV to play a video should be no problem.” You gestured towards the stage at the front of the cafeteria where the TV cart was kept for presentations. He followed behind you, keeping a respectful distance.  Not respectful enough to keep himself from staring at the curve of your ass in your dress as you walked up the stage stairs. 

“Do you have the tape you need to show?” Your words went in one ear and out the other. Carter and Morris weren’t kidding. He hated to admit that those idiots were right about anything, but God, you were beautiful. His gaze was locked on you as squatted down next to the VCR, ejecting its previous contents. It seemed in that moment that you very much both realized that when Javier stood in front of you, you eye level with his waist, staring up at him, dangerously close to his coc- 

“Uh, yeah, yeah sorry,” he shook his head slightly to snap himself out of the thought he was about to have. “Thanks.” he smiled sheepishly. 

“Well I’m no technology expert, but all you should have to do is press play wherever you need to, and you should be good to go! Let me just roll this cart out for you and we’re good for you whenever you’re ready!” You began pushing the cart out onto the stage, but before you could get anywhere, Javi had his hand over yours. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure it’s probably heavy, I can push it.” He insisted. 

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a look that made him step away. 

“What, you think I can’t do it?” Defiantly, you pushed the cart out to the middle of the stage to prove a point, looking back at him and shrugging with an “I told you so” look on your face. Any other woman he had met would have thankfully given up the task, let alone offer to do it at all. At that moment, Javier Peña knew you were not just any other woman. And that- that terrified him in the best way possible.

 Just before you hopped off the edge of the stage to re-join your class, you looked up at him as he ran his fingers through his locks of thick, curly brown hair, trying to regain his composure. 

“Good luck up there, Mr. Peña.” 

Javier couldn’t even tell you what had happened in the 30 minutes that he was up on stage. There were many times throughout his career where he had stared out into a sea of blank faces as he gave a presentation about intel, informats, wire taps… but having the eyes of 80 9 and 10 year olds glued to his every word was an absolutely terrifying experience. Not because he was nervous about the judgment of a child who may or may not even be able to tie their shoes or wipe their nose, but because of what they may say about him to you. It took everything in his power not to stare at you the entire time he was up there, but every time he glanced in your direction, your face lit up with a reassuring smile. You had even given him a little thumbs up when he had successfully started the VCR, playing a clip of Daren the D.A.R.E Lion. 

As the presentation finished, the kids applauded and gave a unanimous “thank you!” prompted by the teachers. 

As your class gathered behind you to walk down to the cafeteria, Maria tapped your shoulder. 

“Take a picture, mija, it will last longer.” 

You were too busy staring at Javi to even notice that Maria was talking to you. Her words went in one ear and out the other. 

“Huh, what? Sorry, did you say something?” 

“I said, take a picture, it will last longer.” Maria laughed to herself. “I don’t think your eyes have left him once since you walked in here.” 

You hated to admit it, but it was true. You had known this man for less than an hour, and he already had butterflies dancing around in your stomach. God, what were you, 12?! Pull it together. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Maria.” Of course you did. If you were wearing pants, they would be up in flames. Liar, liar, pants on fire. 

“I’ll take your class to lunch today. I’ll be back to help stack all of the chairs in a few. I’m sure he could use some help cleaning up, and I’ve heard that VCR is really difficult to work.” Maria nudged you before she turned around to collect your class and parade them out of the gym. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Trying to contain your excitement, you playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. 

The other teachers and students left, leaving just you and Javi. He gathered his things that he had left on the stage and started to make his way back down the stairs. It took him a moment to realize you were standing at the edge of the steps, arms crossed over your chest, smiling up at him. 

“I’m sorry if the kids were rowdy. It’s been a zoo since there’s only a few days of school left.” You both let out a small chuckle. Now that you two were alone, you became very aware of how nervous you were.

“You did a really great job! Honestly, you’re the best person we’ve had since we’ve started doing these presentations. The guy we had last time, I can’t remember his name, something with an M?! Anyways, I don’t think he’s ever spoken to a child in his entire life, and there were definitely some tears.” 

Definitely Morris, Javi noted to himself. 

“Thanks, I uh- didn’t think I’d be so nervous to talk in front of a bunch of kids. I’m glad it wasn’t too bad. I should thank you for helping me with that video. Didn’t need to get my pride bruised in front of 10 year olds.  Also glad I didn’t make anyone cry.” 

You both let out small laughs, your cheeks revealing small smiles across your faces. While the silence between you grew, the distance between you began to shrink as you both subconsciously took a small step towards each other. 

He watched as a small wave of sadness flooded your expression. “Stinks that this is the last week of presentations before the school year ends. it would have been nice to have you back.” You looked at him with a half hopeful smile. You saw the same feeling reflected back in him as his brow scrunched and bottom lip entered a small pout. 

“Oh shit. Yeah, I uh, I guess I forgot it’s the end of the school year. That would make sense there wouldn’t be anymore presentations.” He rested one hand on his hip, as the other traveled through his thick, brown locks. You bit down on your bottom lip, stunned by his broadness and shoulders to waist ratio, which was made even more apparent as his fingers combed through his hair. His deep brown eyes met yours, melting you instantly.  “If I had known that you would have been here, I would have signed up to come a lot earlier.” 

Before you had a chance to recover yourself from the puddle you had just turned into, the cafeteria doors swung open once again. Maria was a woman on a mission. Her tiny, thin frame marched with purpose towards you both. 

“Oh good thing I caught you, amor! I was just thinking that I had something important to tell Javier before he left and I’m so glad you’re here to hear it too. Javi happens to be a dear familiar friend, and I was just telling him before the presentation how excited I am to see him and his father at my cookout this Saturday! I know you had mentioned you were thinking about going! You’ll be there, won’t you Javier? Aren't you so excited to come to the party this Saturday?”

Maria and Javier entered a silent stare down. Their expressions allowed them to have an entire conversation without speaking a word. 

There’s a party on Saturday? What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything?

Dios Mio, Pendejo. Take the hint. I already invited her. She will be there on Saturday so you can see her again. Don’t mess this up. 

“Oh really?” You chimed in, perhaps a bit too over enthusiastic. “I wasn’t really going to know anyone besides the staff at school, so it would be nice to see another familiar face!” In all honesty, you were trying to find a way out of going before just now. Huge social gatherings of strangers weren’t really your thing, but if it meant it was a chance to see Javi again, you would brave it. 

“Oh yeah, the uh, the cookout! Yeah, uh, yeah, I’ll be there. It would be really nice to see you again, too.” Although Javier’s tone carried a tint of confusion, his smile was confirmed that his statement was genuine. 

“Bueno!” Maria clasped her hands together and shook her head in delight. “So you will BOTH be there on Saturday!” 

You could already feel your heart swelling at the prospect of seeing Javi again. 

“Oh and mija”, Maria turned towards you, your face lighting up, wondering if she had even more good news to deliver. “They need you in the office. Isabella and Jorge got into a wrestling match in the cafeteria and the secretaries needed to call their parents. Oi, these niños are like wild animals, summer cannot come fast enough!” 

“Of course they did. They might as well put WWE referee under our job description because it seems like that’s all I’m doing all day. It’s like herding feral cats.” you groaned. “Those two cannot be together next year…” 

Javi let out a snort. “Sorry”, he said, trying to contain his laughter. You joined in, realizing the ridiculousness of your statement. 

“Alright, well I guess that’s my cue to go. It was really nice to meet you, Javi. I’m really glad I get to see you again.” It took every ounce of strength in your body to move yourself out of the cafeteria doors. As you walked away, you turned once more to look back over your shoulder, to find that Javi’s eye’s hadn’t moved from your direction since you turned around. “See you on Saturday.” 

Even after you were out of sight, Javi still stood frozen, his eyes wide and jaw still half open. 

“Hola, earth to Javier, are you there?!” Maria interjected, waving her hand in front of Javi’s awe struck face. 

Snapping out of his trance, Javier began to speak, but was stopped before he could get out a single word. 

“Listen to me mijo. I want you to be happy. That was all Lucia asked for before she passed. So first and foremost, you are welcome.” Maria gestured, alluding to the fact that Javier owed her big time for what had just happened. “Secondly, she is a sweet girl. If you do anything to break her heart, so help me, I will come to the ranch and run you over with your father’s tractor. Understood?” 

“Understood.” Javier understood that this was not a threat, it was a promise. 

“Good. She’s a good one, Javier. She reminds me so much of your mother. Lucia would have loved her.” She reached up her hand to cup the side of Javi’s face, before bringing her other arm around him for a hug. 

Javi’s already halfway through his coffee when you arrive. He’s sitting by the window, tie loosened, jacket still on like he forgot he’s allowed to relax.

You slide into the chair across from him. “You’ve been here long?”

He glances up. “Ten minutes.”

You look at the empty cup in front of him. “More like twenty.”

Javi huffs quietly. “Alright. Twenty.”

You wrap your hands around your own mug. “You look tired.”

“That obvious?”

“A little.”

He leans back in the chair, watching the street through the rain-streaked window. “Been a long week,” he mutters.

“Cartel?”

He nods once.

For a moment neither of you says anything.

Then Javi looks back at you. “You didn’t have to come,” he says.

You tilt your head. “I know.” Your foot nudges his under the table. “But I wanted to.”

That earns the smallest smile from him. The kind that barely reaches his mouth but softens his whole face. Javi lifts the cup again. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching you over the rim. “You make it real hard to leave.”

thank you for reading!

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