a king with no crown.

Her eyebrows immediately rise as he starts to lie to her face, not actually as he's not looking at her still, but she purses her lips together instead of lashing out when he doesn't finish the sentence. Things between them have been so tense that she's grateful he decided he knew better than to actually finish what he was saying. She's tense as she waits for him to look at her, Ally half tempted to try to take bags from him but she's worried that will make it worse. She shifts her weight from foot to foot and then she slowly runs her hand up and down his arm, stepping into his space with concern etched onto her features.

There's still a lot raging inside of her, Ally still feeling a lot of conflicting feelings coursing through her as they get closer to opening up the door back to the grave reality of things around them. She knows Steve isn't actually in danger anymore, but she can't shake the feeling that if he is, she's not ready for it like she wants to be. She's ready to fight--that much was certain when she was ready to burn this place to the ground to stop Steve from meeting an untimely end--but she's not sure that it's a good idea for her to get more wound up. As much as she unloaded before, seeing what it's doing to Steve is telling that she can't let it happen again.

There's too much at stake now.

She wants to tell him that obviously it matters to her, but she's almost scared to interrupt him because what if it stops him from saying what he wants to say? He has already begun to stop pushing so much away that she almost worries she's going to spook him now, and then he'll take off like a stallion and be too hard to corral back to the point. He's emotional too, which is obvious in the way he tries to avoid her until he finally doesn't, Ally already feeling herself calm ever so slightly when she can count the flecks in those pretty brown eyes of his. It drags her better into the moment with him when she realizes that he really is being honest with her, and her heart starts to race when the things he's saying actually start to take shape.

It's not until she realizes he's confessing, that she feels like her heart is suddenly trying to hammer through her chest. He's never given her this much before and there is a part of her that almost feels like she can't believe it. “As...as opposed to 'informally'?” she hears herself ask, tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip as his laugh suddenly catches her off guard further. Steve has just thrown her for a loop, and for someone who typically has the words for things like this--for someone who verbally vomited all over him in the car--she has to pause for a moment. Her fingers tiptoe up her arm to pinch herself involuntarily, nodding when she feels the tiniest prick of pain. No...she's not dreaming. Steve Harrington just asked her out. “Why am I not even the tiniest bit shocked that you have chosen now of all moments to say all this? I said 'look at me' not 'confess even though we don't have time to kiss properly after'.”

The sass is unmistakable, but a smile forms as she manages to take a deep breath and let her thoughts catch up to the moment at hand. Was he really doing this right now? Admitting that he wants more than whatever haphazard coexistence they've had up until now? Ally doesn't even know what to say to it, if she's honest, because of course she wants more but something he said has made her think even harder about it all. 'But not how things have really been'. She agrees with that more than he knows, and while she could explain her agreement to him, they don't have the time to get into this. Did he really decide to do this right now?! She wishes she could blame him for this, but she started it, so deep down she knows she can't even do that.

“I...we're already...I really hate it when you make words fall out of my head,” she says suddenly, but the annoyance is laced with affection as she rolls up on the balls of her feet to press her lips to his, because she's not sure she really does hate it. The kiss is a promise, Ally needing him to know that she's heard him and she's not discounting his feelings even though she's sassing him right now. “You're a pain in my ass, and we don't have time to unpack all of this, but no...guys don't do this to me. Just you.” Her eyes roll playfully as she pulls back, taking a breath and then motioning to the door. “I want to stay right here and hammer out every detail with you. I do. I genuinely want to find a way together to make this work, it's just that we don't have time right now...this isn't the time or the place for this.” That's an understatement, but she gives his arm a squeeze as she tucks some hair behind her ear. “Besides, if you're going to ask me out, you're going to need to do better than that...formally,” Ally teases, the first grin in a long while forming on her face.

admittedly, it comforts him that he's not the only one who's gotten tongue tied tonight. steve knows he's never been great with words, but he'd felt with himself today more than ever. he barely moves when she closes the space between to kiss him, partially because everything he's holding at his sides and partially because he hadn't respected her response that quick. it makes his stomach flip, guilt pushing deeper. of course, it's objectively the preferred response to his emotions being laid down before them. but it's not something he feels he's earned from her just yet. he didn't necessarily want this, to throw a makeshift bandaid over their issues and call it a day, but as they've both reiterated to each other, time is of the essence now.

he finds himself restraining from pulling her in again, from kissing her, from resorting to touch and physicality to combat the emotions they've handled. but it just doesn't feel right now. he wants to enjoy everything about what makes them good but the bad he's caused seems to still outweigh the desire to plop back to pretending. he hadn't brought everything up to disarm her, or to make her forget about everything before. he wanted to give her something tangible with his words, because he knows it may be what she needed. little does he really know, how badly he also needed to say what he did. the weight of his words hasn't quite spun back to him yet, and part of him does regretfully anticipate its arrival. historically he hasn't been able to be this honest with her, but up until now he hadn't been able to admit his feelings to himself either.

his brain is a wonderfully, catastrophically blank now and steve almost forgets where they are – what they're doing here at a drug dealer's pool house bringing groceries to a fugitive. everything else slips a bit out of focus and steve can still feel where she'd kissed him, the pressure and surprise of it all releasing into the air as she acknowledges the absurdity of his actions. steve nods along quietly as she says now isn't the time for this – he's never been great at the timing thing with ally. he wants to joke back, to push into the familiarity but despite his words, he still feels the ingenuity and hypocrisy he'd shown her when he'd breached new grounds with her the night prior. he won't let himself off the hook entirely. it just doesn't feel right to tell himself it was all okay now. so he doesn't, just lets the moment dissipate into the next and tables the rest of the much-needed conversation for later.

she deserves something more solid than a jibe back at her teasing. his voice settles in an agreement, ducking his head with another nod. ❛ i will, ❜ he says simply. though he hasn't quite set the bar high with her, he knows there's a better way to go about a 'formal' version of what he'd just suggested. despite his own contrition, he finds himself smiling to himself as his eyes drop to the ground and they move toward the pool house, shoulder bumping slightly against hers. ❛ say we, uh– ❜ steve squints and makes a gesture with his thumb and pointer finger, moving an invisible pushpin into the air in front of him. ❛ put a pin in it? ❜ it's stupid, but he wants to make sure he reiterates that they aren't just going to gloss over this. he wants ally to know he's planning on doing more, on saying more, not just because she deserves it but because he knows it's for the better that he starts trying to vocalize what he really wants, even if it does scare the hell out of him.

guilt looks strange on steve harrington.

not impossible. not unearned. just strange.

it hangs off him wrong, like one of those expensive jackets boys like him throw over their shoulders because they’ve never known weather as an enemy. only this isn’t fabric. this is heavier. wetter. this is something dragged out of the bottom of a swimming pool with weeds tangled around its throat. deena watches it settle into the lines of his face, softening the usual bravado into something raw enough to make her uncomfortable. because anger is easy. anger has handles. sharp little places to grip. suspicion is easier still, all teeth & appetite, a familiar hound that has slept at the foot of her bed since childhood. but this? this wilted thing in his voice when he says he should never have left?

this is harder.

deena’s expression doesn’t soften immediately. it rarely does. her face has learned not to give away valuables for free. instead she studies him beneath the ugly wash of halloween light, eyes narrowing as if she can cross-examine the sorrow right out of his bloodstream. steve harrington, former king of hawkins high, standing in front of her looking less like royalty and more like a boy who has finally noticed the crown was made of barbed wire.

❛ yeah... if you’re waiting for me to throw the first stone, you might be disappointed. ❜ her mouth tilts, not quite a smile. ❛ i mean, don’t get excited. i have several stones. emotionally, i’m very well-stocked. ❜ a beat.

then she tips her head toward the back door. ❛ c’mon. outside. you look like you’re about five seconds away from either punching a wall or writing terrible poetry in a bathroom stall. ❜

the night air presses cool against her skin, carrying the stale scent of beer and dead leaves. deena leans against the side of the house, cigarette pinched between two fingers, rolling it absently without ever bringing it to her mouth. a bad habit in limbo. she’d been trying to quit mostly because they made all her clothes smell like bad decisions and gas station regret.

green eyes cut toward him. when he answers, mentions nancy, mentions ally, admits in that tired, guilty sort of voice that he fucked up and shouldn’t have left, deena goes still for a second. not in shock. more like recalibrating. fitting new puzzle pieces into place while trying not to look too much like she cares.

❛ okay, hang on, ❜ she says, lifting a hand. ❛ i need context before i can properly judge you. what do you mean you left? left where? and why is ally davis apparently involved in this? did she descend from the heavens to deliver a moral sermon in platform heels? ❜

the corner of her mouth twitches, but there’s something gentler under it now. less blade, more bandage wrapped around the blade. she turns the cigarette between her fingers again, eyes dropping to it for half a second before looking back up at him. ❛ right now you look like somebody took a baseball bat to your ribcage and called it character development. and while that’s objectively a rough look, i’m trying to figure out whether i should make fun of you or be concerned. ❜ a beat.

❛ maybe both. probably both. ❜

then she nudges his arm lightly with her elbow, casual enough to keep it from becoming a thing, kind enough to mean something anyway.

❛ c’mon, harrington. tell me what happened. ❜

as she suggests going outside, he couldn't be happier to have a change in scenery. but his behaviors are marked with irresolution, weighted down by something that might suddenly care too much about the circulating rumors about his life tonight. first, nancy wheeler, his girlfriend – leaving with jonathan byers, the strange, quiet older brother of the kid who went missing. steve meets this prejudice with a clench of the jaw, bothered not only by its existence but also by the way that he still cares about it. what would it look like, him going outside with a mutual friend of nancy and barb's? he hadn't had much public interaction with deena, and while he wishes he cared less, it's still something to consider. what would nancy think if she heard of this?

trust shouldn't be of the question when it came to him, steve decides. he'd never done anything to breach it, and if anyone has answering to do, it's nancy. he's just too used to the drama. despite the differences she has on the rest of the girls he's courted, nancy isn't the kind to listen to the rumors circulating. she's better than that. steve follows deena out and finds that the autumn night air actually does help him breathe a little better, give him more room to adjust his posture in a way that isn't constantly aware of the whispers and rumors around his name tonight.

where had she been all night? did she just happen to not hear the uproar of hawkins high gossip that quickly made its way around the party? steve had left for– what was it?– not even twenty minutes before he'd returned and heard that his own girlfriend had left with none other than jonathan byers? steve wishes he didn't have to give this context; everything about tonight felt so heavy he's not even sure he wants to relay it back to her. deena means well, though. if he knew anything, it was that.

❛ um, well– ❜ steve casts a glance back into the house, the screen doors displaying the ghastly picture of their classmates, many of which were too drunk to acknowledge the scene on the back porch. it's late, after all. he's sure nobody will notice long enough to draw conclusions about it. he wraps his arms around himself, enclosing his frame into something submissive, small. embarrassed and quiet and entirely unlike himself, when it came to what everyone else had to say about steve harrington's demeanor. ❛ nance and i– well... we got into it. she's upset. i made her come here tonight, thinking it would– i don't know– make things easier? she didn't want to, i guess. i didn't see it. and she had a bit to drink. we were talking, and she got upset, so we went to the bathroom... ❜

his face grows hot and he's suddenly aware of the way all of this sounds. especially to deena. ❛ she was drunk, and i was trying to help... but it just, got bad and she started saying things... ❜ he doesn't want to think of the words that she'd said, the claims she'd made on their relationship. it cuts a little too deep to relive so he lets the way his eyes drop and his shoulders slump do all the explaining they can do. ❛ she said something like, i dunno. she didn't answer me when i asked her if she still loved me. she didn't answer. and then i got upset by it and i left and i know that was stupid but i didn't know she felt that way. i didn't know she felt the way she said– ❜ he can't bring up the exact words nancy had said; they're too painful to recall verbatim. instead, he does the best he can to not get caught up in all those words.

❛ i don't know if she wants to be with me anymore, ❜ he finishes quietly. he's tired of the explaining now, swaying a bit as the energy leaves him and the alcohol's effects start to run over. ❛ and i've been trying, deena. i've been trying. but i feel like– ❜ his emotions catch up with his words and he feels himself choke, pulling his eyes away as he relives those moments in the bathroom. the words that had been said, despite how hard he'd been trying to make things seem okay. ❛ i feel like it's just... not enough. ❜

Her feelings of guilt are interrupted when he moves to take the bags from her, Ally surprised for a moment that he's even doing this over something she said that she thinks is silly. Steve has comforted her before, but this feels a lot different than when he had done it before, even as she finds herself melting against him the moment his arms wrap around her. Her head moves so she can bury her face in his chest, and suddenly all she can do is breathe him in, his touch helping her even for just a few moments he holds her to even out her breathing and reinforce this mask she's wearing. She doesn't want to wear a mask with Steve, but she doesn't feel like she has a choice right now with everyone else, his words making her smile more genuinely.

He thinks she's beautiful, and he's still saying a compliment without any teasing, which still throws her for a loop. Ally knows he means it, but she's still not used to the fact that they've come to a place where he just says things like that. She hadn't even been doing her regular fishing for something in a playful manner, she had just been teasing about herself because it was easier to default to that in her current emotional state. So to have him just offer that up and to have his body envelop hers like this completely unprovoked, does calm her down, she just wishes he would look at her.

She feels so much better when she's here able to hear his heartbeat, so when he pulls back she really wishes he wouldn't, but she forces herself to remember that this isn't the time or place to get lost in each other. That, after all is the default they've always had, but it's hard to do even that when he's not looking at her. She does understand that he's still somewhat uncomfortable by her emotional outburst, but it's hard to ground herself when she can't even look him in the eyes. After all, those beautiful brown eyes of his have always been her favorite thing about him (physical thing, anyway), and when he's avoiding her, it feels almost more painful than when he's pissing her off.

She's brought out of her thoughts by the way he moves to grab all the bags, which is gentlemanly behavior but why? “I can carry bags,” she tries, but something tells her that she isn't going to sway him. Ally doesn't like that he's being so nice in a situation like this while still avoiding looking at her, regardless of him bringing up now that everyone probably knows about what is potentially going on between them. They probably do after the meltdown she had before, but she feels like just because they might know she is protective of him doesn't really mean a lot. Though…the hickies told a different story and she has no idea what gossip has transpired since they left them all to their own devices, but she isn't sure what they really know.

Ally nods as she walks with him. “Let's be honest: they will just think I'm coming down from the hysterics of before. I don't mind though. It's not like Max is surprised by it. Dustin seemed a little shocked, but…” She takes a breath, glancing at him as they head down the path, before her hand reaches for his arm to make him pause. “Can you look at me for a second though? I really don't feel like you're okay, and that's the one thing I need to be certain of right now. I know I'm not your favorite person right now,” she teases a little, saying his words back to him, “but I'm gonna be so annoying until you look at me...”

her fingers catch at his arm and he stops nearly immediately. the bags sink to bump his knees, the plastic digging into his fingers. the smallest shake of the head follows, ❛ i am looking at y– ❜ he lies like the words are pointless coming out because he knows far better than to do something like that. 'i really don't feel like you're okay,' she says and that's what catches him from continuing. he'd been looking at anything but her since they'd gotten in the car. once he got out, sure things felt better between them, but there's something else beneath it that he can't place.

anywhere else he looks, is much easier to settle on. everything else doesn't ask anything back from him. if he looks at her, he'll feel that feeling that's guilted him time and time again and this time feels irreparable. if he meets her eyes, she'll see just how badly he's starting to understand what she'd been telling him in the car. this morning wasn't about him walking away. it was far more than that– he'd done the exact thing he's been telling himself he doesn't want to do anymore.

she's pointed to his attention all the things that made his reflection much clearer than she probably knows. and now they have no choice but to walk back into this damn shed and back into the uncontrolled chaos outside of their personal issues. he's treated her like she's disposable, like nothing in their story thus far has seemingly mattered, because he's shared enough with her to know that his actions have, according to his past, minimized their relationship to something much, much smaller. looking at ally would be putting his face up to all of the intimacy they'd shared, to the way he'd essentially ripped this foundation to shreds and tossed it away. it's harder now for him to minimize it anymore, because he doesn't want to. he keeps hurting her, and maybe he'll be able to swallow that down momentarily if he gives himself space from the very thing that she knows too well. not because he's avoiding this time, which is ironic all in itself, but because he thinks it will maybe make his guilt a bit quieter.

THERE HE GOES! thinking of himself. wasn't that what he just realized he wanted to stop doing? the selfish default of his behaviors being brought to light makes him give a sad nod, doing his best to look anything but pitiful when he brings himself to look at her. he runs his tongue over the inside of gritted teeth and forces his jaw to relax. does his very best to look at her in the simplest of senses, the way someone might observe something they didn't already have committed to their memory. the way someone might look at a picture they don't have context for, take in information carelessly. as if it doesn't affect them. his vision wavers from eye to eye, nose twitching as he swallows down the feeling of tears arriving yet again.

❛ it doesn't really matter if i'm okay or not, ❜ he says carefully. the redness at her eyes makes him look down again, blinking. ❛ i'm not mad at you. not at all. ❜ he shifts the bags a bit in his grip. ❛ i... i just can't continue holding back from wanting to fix this now when i see how much i've put you through. ❜ as the words keep coming out, he finds that it's a bit easier to shift his weight, to allow his eyes to harden into something that she won't be as concerned about. steve lifts his head to look at her again. ❛ you don't need to check in on me. i'm okay. we're okay... well. we will be– ❜ there's the promise he didn't want to make. because he's not sure she even deserves to give him that chance. his lack of a proper shift to figure his own shit out has evidently shown itself today. because despite their conversation in the video store lot, he's still adding to the things he just can't do right for her.

his eyes are tired, but she's just told him what she needs and the least he can do is try to give her that. his voice barely rises above the sounds of the wind moving through the trees, ❛ i just... don't want you to think about me in all this. not because i want out of this. but it feels selfish to tell you the truth about it right now – that i really, really want in. ❜ his voice is clear as day by the last sentence, nodding with it as he keeps his eyes on her. he hesitates by the next words that bubble up his throat, but he's trying out this whole complete honesty thing and there's nothing clearer to him now – ❛ i want you, but not how things have really been. i want you, not just to yell at over stupid disagreements or for hooking up or whatever it is. i want you more than that. i can't do this in-between shit anymore. i– actually want you. like... formally. ❜ he's sounding like an idiot now, but something about letting this all out makes him realize it kinda feels good to admit it to her – because he's actually confessing all of it to himself now, too.

the bags rustle under his hands and he realizes he may have gone too far. his eyes drop. did he just end their dispute by telling her he wants her to be his girlfriend? had that made any sense at all? steve laughs as he suddenly realizes the words he'd just said, and how ridiculous they must've sounded. ❛ bet you've never had a guy make you cry then basically ask you out in the same ten minutes. ❜

Crying in Steve Harrington's car and being this vulnerable with him, was not actually on Ally's to-do list. She actually hates feeling like she's backing him into a corner, she's just been through so many painful things in the last few months--and in the last 24 hours actually, as that damn bottle is now forefront in her mind as she looks at the pool shed--that she is having a hard time not being needy. That's actually what's making her stomach churn right now, is that Ally's feeling so insanely needy at the moment and Steve doesn't need her to be clingy. This also isn't where she actually wants to have this conversation, and she shifts a little in the driver's seat as she turns the car off and wipes the tears off her face.

God, Ally's so tired of crying.

She's always been emotional, and that has served her well in theater because she knows how to take from what she needs when she is on stage, but this is too much. It makes her feel like a crybaby, and she knows that Steve doesn't really handle her crying well to begin with so it annoys her further. The whole point of this is to stand up for herself, and yet her thoughts are still on how to make this more manageable for Steve even after she's the one that unloaded all of this on him. Ally swallows as she tries to calm her thoughts more, glancing at Steve and feeling her heart sink a little that he can't look at her. She can't blame him of course--she's made him uncomfortable--but she just wants to look at him. Not because she wants to see his pain, but because something about being here where something so negative happened has made her want to make sure that he's still fine.

His first words land and she realizes that she lets out a breath she didn't know that she was holding. She had been so certain he was just going to bail out of the car, that she doesn't expect this. What's more, is she doesn't expect to agree with those first words as she leans back against the driver's seat. “I mean...I don't think I've ever had an interaction with you where I actually thought it through first...” Ally manages slowly, smiling a little bit, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes right now because she's exhausted. Sleep has eluded her already and after everything they've been up to in the last 24 hours, it's a wonder she has the energy she does to get through all of this. At some point, the adrenaline of it all is going to wear off and she'll probably crash, but right now she's alert as he continues to talk to her, wanting to really hear what he has to say. He's not a man of many words, so it's important to her that she hears what he has to say.

Ally lets herself continue to watch him, realizing that she really just wants him to be okay even though she dropped all this on his lap. It wasn't fair of her to do this right now, but she simply wasn't sure she could go in there with everyone without letting it all out so she can put up a front with the others. So hearing him tell her that she doesn't deserve the pain she's going through means more to her than she can say to him. At the same time, there's a part of her that feels almost bad she's made Steve feel bad and she doesn't really understand how deep that goes. She's so used to having to fix a situation for other people, that even here where she knows Steve isn't the same, she can hear her mother in the back of her head: 'Your dramatics aren't other people's problems, Allison'. She knows she's blown this up between them, but at the same time he's finally talking to her...so maybe it was necessary and she should actually silence that voice that makes her second guess herself when it comes to this.

A gentle smile makes itself a home on her face when he admits he always thinks about her--even though he doesn't think about how his actions would affect her, which is arguably the most important part--and she takes a deep breath when that cuts through her negative thoughts about her mother. He knows now, which is what she needs out of this the most, because she's not sure how much more of this she could take if it continued. The fact that he even seems willing to hear her out helps, and more than that he seems to care that she's so upset and that makes more tears come out of her because he's trying. At least these are grateful tears, and she hears a tired laugh come out of her as she undoes her own seatbelt.

“Yeah, I'm sorry about that part,” she shakes her head a little, reaching out tentatively to swoop an unruly piece of hair behind his ear, her thumb lingering on the shell of his ear for just a moment as she needs the tactile touch. It's too much, she's sure, but everything about this was been too much so she chances it as she allows herself to try to bottle up what she needs to, to go back in with the others. “The French only comes out when I'm really mad...like...a brain malfunction.” Ally swallows down a painful lump in her throat as his words warm her heart for a moment, and she finally opens up the door to hopefully let some of the tension seep out of the car into the wee morning air. “Thank you....for just hearing me out.” She needed to know that none of this was intentional, because somehow knowing it's not actively malicious makes her feel better about them. They can circle back to this later though, because they do need to go inside, but it's helpful to know that something was said, and she's feeling far more calm than he probably is.

Getting out of the car, Ally moves to the trunk to open it up for the bags, surprisingly feeling lighter that Steve let her leave first for once. It's such a small thing really, letting her get out first, but it's huge in the grand scheme of things because it means more than just that. He sat with her to hear her out instead of just bailing, which makes her smile just a little bit as he joins her for the bags and she slips his keys into his jeans pocket. It's an intimate and playful gesture, slipping her hand right into his pocket without any words between them, but they're his keys and she's sure he'd rather know that they are safe with him right now. Then she hands him the pack of beer he was so determined for them to get for Eddie, and a bag or two. She scrunches her nose up playfully at him to extend an olive branch, and then grabs the last two bags to carry on her own. Closing the trunk of the car, she moves around the back to catch her reflection in the window and she pauses quite abruptly.

Fingers move to her hair to smooth it out and then she frowns as she wipes at her face and heaves a heavy sigh at what she sees. “Oh my God, I look terrible. You could warn a girl, you know, that she looks like the Crypt Keeper...” She looks at Steve with an annoyed look on her face, but there's affection behind her eyes even as she blames him. Partially, it's letting him know that she's trying to settle into this particular attitude since they have to rejoin the others and she refuses to come off as sad, but the other part is quite serious. “Insane behavior, Sailor.”

she thanks him, but it doesn't sit right with steve. it's a cordial gesture that he knows she means – but he'd barely done the bare minimum. she'd apologized, too, reaching forward to brush his hair behind his ear. the touch felt wrong, unjustified, undeserving. even as she thanks him he can't bring himself to say anything, only nods slowly and pulls his eyes down and clears his throat uncomfortably. she leaves the car and he tucks his chin down and wipes his hands on his jeans. the phantom warmth of her hand lingers at his ear. steve blinks his eyes away from the daze he'd been stuck in and pushes through the car door, away from the staled air that held all the words they'd thrown at each other. his knees feel the tension the most when he straightens, and he twists to shake his limbs out and shuts the car door. it's more tentative, quieter, oddly conscious of every sound he's making now.

he meets her at the trunk, where she's already one step ahead of him as always. steve doesn't notice that she'd returned the keys into his pocket, only the weight against his thigh bringing him back to where she had been, but she's already withdrawn. steve takes the beer, then the other bags she hands him, and with his mouth pressed in a straight line he nearly runs into her when she stops abruptly at the car window. she's trying to cover things up again. even with the jabs at her appearance, and how it really is his fault she'd been crying so much nearly the entire ride home, her tone gives away something neutral that doesn't have too much of a bite. it makes him sad, to see her like this. to see how she so quickly maneuvers around her emotions for the sake of not only the others, but for him.

all he sees are beautiful blue eyes, swollen because of his doing. steve forces a tight, closed smile, but it's not too convincing. he knows it, by the heaviness he still feels in his chest that only breaks when she calls him sailor and he leans down to set down the bags, carefully placing the beer on the ground. steve loosens his shoulders and lets out a puff of air through his nose. ❛ c'mere, ❜ he moves toward her and takes the bags from her hands. his movements are rather quick after he meets her eyes, because if they aren't she'll see the way his own tears have started to form.

steve wraps his arms around her frame, guiding her head to tuck into his chest as he folds his body around hers. he wants to say more, to say again how much of an idiot he knows he's been, how he would never want to see someone treat her like he's treated her. the words get caught in his throat and he goes with something else. ❛ you still look beautiful, ally, ❜ he swallows, his voice threaded with guilt and sorrow and shame for everything she had just brought to light. it feels weird now, pulling her into a hug – he wants to give her the distance she probably inevitably deserves but all the while he knows how much they both value each other's touch and he'd spent the entire car ride not even giving her eye contact. he feels the way his hands have steadied with her touch, the way she still smells of bonfire and lake water even though he knows she likely did all she could to rid herself of last night.

when he pulls away, he turns down to the ground to pick up the bags she'd been holding before she can reach for them. steve takes a step to the others he'd set down and threads them through his arm so he can grab the beer as well. ❛ if it makes you feel better, nearly everyone in there probably already knows someone’s going on. and they know the both of us enough to know it's my fault. ❜ he'd gotten that much from the looks max had given her, and the way robin's eyes started to shift from the two of them and start to become a little more judgmental towards the information steve had shared about him and ally. she'd challenged him before on it, but now he knows she's starting to put more of the pieces together and realize just how fucked up steve's decision to leave this morning had been.

he brushes her shoulder to silently suggest they walk up together. he doesn't step ahead, doesn't move until she does and she shows that she's ready to go in. if she needed more time, he's now more than okay to stand out here and do what he can to help her reset before they go inside. he shrugs and gives a weak smile to himself – he's starting to notice it's a bit more difficult to look her in the eyes and see in them how he's hurt her. how can you comfort someone when you aren't even sure how to fix the wounds you've opened? or, reopened for that matter. he's noticed so much in her behavior recently that he's curious if or when they'll be able to get into it, to hear more about her side than he's allowed come out in conversation about their pasts. ❛ but if anyone asks, we can blame me. everyone knows i'm not the most efficient. ❜

Attention drifting over the way his hair falls across his forehead, STUDYING. If she were human, she’d have STAMMERED and BLUSHED and looked RESOLUTELY elsewhere — he looked like someone she would’ve EASILY had HEART EYES over.

Dark brow arching at his words, SIMPLE and EXHAUSTED. His SCENT not shifting toward anything MAJOR in the time since he’s arrived. NOTHING WORKING TO RELEGATE HIM TO THE REALM OF THE PAST TENSE.

She HUMS at him again, moving to stand and pad toward the ancient metallic counter. SNAGGING a pitcher of ice water and filling a cup, methodical in her dainty sliding of a straw into the glass. HOPPING a little to reach over the counter and grab a clean rag, dipping the end of it in the pitcher before pulling it up and CRINKLING it in a ball over the trash can. Thick hips sway as she slides the glass in front of him, tossing the rag in her grip like a SOFTBALL. ‪

❝Cut you a deal, baby.❞ ‬She’s BREAKING the BOUNDS of personal space as she lifts his sneaker clad feet in one hand to SLIDE onto the bench seat underneath his legs. FEELING duty bound by his SWEET PUPPY FACE and the potential CRUSHES of HUMAN LUCY’S GONE BY.

GRATEFUL SHE’S FED RECENTLY ENOUGH FOR HIM NOT TO TEMPT HER. ‪

athletic ability only fails him slightly here; the rag is caught with the aid of his chest, holding it there as the frozen peas shift an inch lower at his cheekbone. the eye closest to the cold pressure falls shut as he slumps more into the chill, dropping that side of his face into the palm of his hand. his elbow rises to fix itself at the top of the booth right after she moves his legs to seat herself beneath them. he's too lethargic to think about much, to allow his usual concern over appearances hold weight. steve harrington, with a face plenty of girls at hawkins high would admit to thinking about way too much, draped over the local diner's booth on a random autumn night. alone. with a ridiculous bandana still bunched at his neck, hair tousled rather than arranged, with an unusual posture of no concern over perception.

steve doesn't protest, just observes her quietly in this new closeness. the bag lowers from his cheek and is placed on the counter. he closes his fingers around the glass of water; only after he brings it to his lips and takes a long sip does he straighten up slightly. steve feels the way his chest rises and falls. the larger movement makes him wince, and he offers the rag she'd given him back in a courtesy of agreement to the deal she's offered. ❛ –'m steve, ❜ he nearly blurts out, his name coming out in a rasp and he doesn't bother giving out his last name. maybe he'll be lucky enough that she won't know it already.

❛ you're not from here. ❜ it had meant to come out as a question, but it materializes with a certainty that could only come from a kid in a town that recognizes everyone. plus the shameless fact that he feels like he would've remembered her, with her smooth movements and sheer confidence that makes him wonder if she's even in high school. despite her offers to help clean his face, and his own acceptance of it seconds ago, he absently brings the bag back up to his face and presses it to the opposite side he'd been holding it before, leaning now on the table. his eyes unfocus for a few moments at the pattern on the table, easing into the comfort of the blank stare ahead as he adjusts his jaw with another grimace.