I’m Anna🩵🪐

you were born into the life of strict expectations, your every move planned by the adults around you. destined for a life you had never even agreed to. pushed to be a leader from the day you were old enough to speak your first word.

when you turned 16 and realised you could defy authority, you did everything with the little power you had to break out of the chains modelled to your wrists.

you quickly came to the conclusion that no matter how much you fought, nothing could ever change. no matter what words you yelled, how many times you ran- you could never escape the burden of the title. when you pushed, they pushed harder.

so you conformed, you followed the rules, you were polite and kind- you did everything that was asked of you. you wore the robes that were itchy and scratchy, you ate the food that was offered to you without complaint. you attended every clan meeting without a whine. you morphed into an echo of the girl you yearned to be.

you weren't happy but you learnt your happiness did not matter in the grand sceme of everything. you were apart of something bigger than yourself.

when you turned 17 you were everything your parents hoped for, the clan looked up to you and your gracefulness. your smile was passionate and caring, your way with the people was undenying.

you were hiding behind the expectations of your parents- they didn't need to know that though.

with that came the knights.

you can't remember a time when you didn't have someone looming over your every move. you thought your father would give it up after your rebllious streak died down, but you were wrong- as usual.

the knights stayed with you, though they changed over the years they all were the same. plain and boring, never wanting to enagage in a conversation with you.

all they did was pull you back in line like your parents, ward you off from the stray path. keep you far behind the strict lines that were drawn.

this happened every two years, the rotation of who guarded you- who seemingly protected you from the harsh reality of the world.

first there was takurah, your knight from the ages of 13-15. he was a warrior in training, a fierce one. the best in your clan. you thought he was cute when he was first assigned to you, but that quickly changed after you realised he reported back everything to your parents- and he was 8 years older than you, so even your 13 year old self knew you were dreaming.

then there was izeah, from the ages of 15-17 he stayed by your side. he was far nicer than takurah ever was to you- maybe that was because he hardly spoke, but that was far better than a blabbering asshole. he left after he was called onto much better things, as they all are.

then, there was neteyam.

a warrior from the omaticaya clan, first born son of toruk makto- your parents were more than pleased to have him look over you, they practically bathed in his presense. everyone did.

it was hard not to, he was perfect in every way.

though when you first met him at age 17 you wondered why someone so important got stuck with the role of babysitting you. you assumed he would be like the past two protectors, simple and boring- only speaking to you when necessary.

but when you saw him for the first time, something in you switched on.

something you had never felt before, when his yellow eyes met yours you felt like the world had shifted on its very axis- you thought you were going to be sick. you didn't even realise he was greeting you, you were stuck in a trance.

though you quickly snapped out of it, your eyes wide with what your body had just felt- what was going on with you. "uh- hi." you muttered, your eyes falling to the floor beneath you not wanting to meet his intense gaze.

"it is an honour to serve you, my tsakarem." he bowed his head respectfully, though you thought you were going to combust at his thick rough accent.

safe to say as soon as you could you bolted out of the hut, or walked away until you were sure no one could see you-then you bolted.

at first, you did not speak too much to neteyam- if you were being honest, he intimidated you. not because he was scary or mean, but because he carried himself with such pride and confidence.

someone that perfect has got to be hiding something, right?

until one day he sat next to you during a rainy afternoon, where you sat alone tying together a piece of clothing you had torn from the day before.

you heard him crouch down beside you, you just did not expect him to begin speaking to you- like a friend, like an equal.

something not many often did.

you were 17 then and he was two years older than you, you thought back then that the excitement that bubbled in your chest when you saw him would die down over time.

but it never did.

"y/n," groaning you rolled over, mind scrambled from your sleepy state, not even processing the person looming over you. "you need to wake, it is your ceremony today."

you gave no reply, it was too early to speak to anyone- just as you were about to fall back into your slumber you felt a nudge on your side. "go away.." you mumbled, slurring your words. "10 more minutes..." rolling over to the other side, facing away from whoever was waking you.

"guess i will tell them the princess is too tired for her 18th birthday."

your eyes snapped open, jolting up from the ground suddenly. your eyes wide, mind finally clear- wide away at the mention of what day it was.

neteyam was crouched down in front of you, smile on his face from your sudden awakening. "ah- she awakens."

your hair was sticking up in all different directions from your restless sleep, you had been so excited you had barely been able to fall asleep. "why didn't you wake me sooner!" pouncing off the ground to get ready.

neteyam slowly rose from the ground, eyes following your frantic motion around your hut. quickly grabbing your jewellery and beads to do your hair with. "where is my brush?" scaveging through items, throwing them behind you in search for the object. "it was right here last night!" maybe the stress was getting to you. "i lost it-" your hands ran through your knotted hair, "today is ruined." speaking to yourself.

neteyam coughed, catching your attention. your head snapping to his smug expression on his face, in his hand your brush. your shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of it. "consider your day," throwing the brush to you, which you caught instantly. "saved."

you had no time to reply to him, sitting down quickly to do your hair- it needed to be perfect. you were definitely not a perfectionist- but today, today was differant.as soon as you saw your reflection staring back at you, you gaped.

your hair was no easy fix. "oh no.." mumbling, aggressively combing the brush through your hair like a child. it wasn't budging, your face scrunched up from the pain of the tugging.

neteyam simply watched amusedly from afar, smirking at your frantic struggling. it wasn't until you gave up that he came over to help.

"here," he stopped your hand, putting the brush in his hand. "let me help." he began combing through your mane gently.

"i look like a mess," you grumbled as he tugged on your knots, earning a wince from you. "ow!"

he chuckled, "what do you do in your sleep?" he playfully commented untangling your hair. "fight ikrans?" trying to lighten your mood up.

"you aren't funny, you know?" glaring at him from the mirror.

before he could speak the flap to your tent flung open, "oh my!" a dramatic voice, high pitched- you knew exactly who it was without even having to look at the reflection in the mirror. your grandmother. "move! move!" she signalled for neteyam to stand to the side, which he politely moved to.

your grandmother studied your state in the mirror, horror in her eyes. this was exactly what you were dreading. "what happened to you!" she bent down, her hands on your tense shoulders. "we need to get you fixed up in an instant!"

you glanced over at neteyam, mouthing 'help me' to him. he gave you a sympathetic smile in return.

your grandmother always did have a tendency to be a perfectionist, you often wondered how you were even related.

before you knew it you were surrounded by your grandmothers helpers, overwhelmed by how many people were touching you at once. you had one girl doing your hair, one scrubbing your body, another one cleaning your feet and the other forcing food into your mouth.

all while your grandmother stood there watching and lecturing you, "you are lucky you have neteyam!" announcing, arms flaying in front of her, motioning towards the boy who stood not far from you. "it is a miracle anyone can put up with your lack of preparation!" turning to neteyam, "thank you for waking my incompetent granddaughter."

he chuckled lightly, he knew your grandma now for a year. he knew how she was. "it is not anything-"

she cut him off before he could even finish. "oh! you are far too modest young man!" you rolled your eyes, yelping slightly at the sudden tug at your hair- your grandmother always swooned over neteyam. "do not roll your eyes young lady!"

of course she saw you. you swore she had a second pair of eyes on her. "i wouldn't have slept in on my ceremony grandma!" trying to defend yourself.

her eyebrow raised slightly, her wrinkled face scrunching with disbelief. she sighed dramatically- as she always did. rubbing her temples slowly, "one day you will make me have a heart attack child." see, dramatic. "how do you think you will find a mate with this unorganised state!"

that was another thing she always pestered you about, finding a mate. neteyam glanced towards your face when she said the word mate, seeing your face immediately drop with annoyance.

he knew you inside and out by now, though a year was not long when you are by someones side every day it is very hard not to know every little detail about them- or thats what he liked to tell himself.

huffing you slouched in the chair, immediately being pulled back up straight by one of the women fixing you. "all the men here are stupid."

your grandma gasped at your words, her hand clutching over her chest like you had personally insulted her. "you may all go!" she waved off the women who were all surrounding you, they stared back at her confused. "go!" they quickly scrambled out of the tent, darting past neteyam.

gazing up at your grandma, slouching, preparing for the lecture.

"you are 18 now young lady!" pointing accusingly towards you, your hand resting on your chin, unamused. "it is about time you find someone to mate with." neteyam watched your tail sway behind you lazily, something you always did when your grandmother spoke to you- which he knew by the amount of times he has had to endure her lectures towards you. "you will be the leader of this clan one day, and you need a man to lead with." her withered hand gestured. "you will have my grandkids and-"

your hand dropped from holding your face, your tail dropping behind you. eyes widening. "grandkids?" eyes turning pink, a blush coming up to your face.

"yes," she did not even blink an eye at your flustered state. "you will be mated before eywa and bare a child- i have seen it, eywa has shown me."

you were suddenly very conscious of the fact neteyam stood 3 feet away from you. your whole body heating up in embarrassment. “Grandma!” burying your face in your hands, wishing you would sink into the floor.

but she kept on going, pasting back and fourth, her bangles cluttering with each movement. “i have seen it- you will mate with a brave fierce warrior, and will lead the clan into greatness together.”

groaning loudly, thrashing your head back in frustration. “oh do not give me that!” her long hands motioning towards neteyam, “i am sure neteyam here already has a lovely girl waiting for him back at home, right neteyam?”

your head snapping to where neteyam stood, your heart sinking at the thought of him having courted someone back at his clan.

neteyam eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden personal question. He quickly regained himself. “no- I don’t.”

your grandmother hushed him, “oh do not be so humble.” ignoring his claim. “a strong man like yourself is sure to have many na’vi waiting.”

that might’ve been the only thing you had agreed with that your elder had said.

you waited for neteyams response, until the flap of the tent flew open again. your dad now walking in.

“mother,” putting his hand on his mothers shoulder, “let’s give y/n some time before the ceromony.” he knew what his mother was like, he grew up with her after all.

you silently thanked him as he lead her out of your tent, much to her disapproval.

as soon as she disappeared you felt yourself relax instantly. turning towards a smirking neteyam. “sorry about her.”

he shrugged, not seeming to care. “do not apolgise, she didn’t say anything bad.”

“not to you atleast,” you huffed out, “apparently i am going to mate with a fierce warrior.” you mocked your grandma, earning a snort from your knight.

though he couldn’t deny the jealously that flooded his system at the thought of another na’vi getting to touch you- he knew it went against every moral he had as your protecter, but he just could not help it.

“Ah,” nodding, braids shaking. “so the prophecy says.”

your relaxation did not last long. it was all of 10 minutes before you grandmother and her maids strut right back in and dove straight into making you ready for your 18th celebration.

this time you did not have the comfort of neteyam being there for you to make jokes with, he was requested to help with the preparations for the ceremony. leaving you.

by the end of it, you felt like a dressed up doll.

you hair was soft and silky, braids done throughout it- paint adorned across your body in the traditional ceremonial body paint- but what really made you feel special was the beautiful top you were wearing.

your nan finally was satisfied, putting on final touched to your look. her hand cupping you cheek with a soft smile. "you will bring honour to us all." feeling like a child, melting into her soft touch.

"it is time." neteyam entered your hut, your back facing him.

at the sound of neteyams voice you slowly turned around to meet him, a nervous smile forming on your lips- or embarrassed, you weren't sure which one it was.

when his eyes landed on you turned to face him, he was speechless. oh eywa, you looked beautiful- he knew if he was not so composed he was sure to have fallen weak at the knees at the mere sight of you.

even if it was wrong that he did.

the great tree shimmered in gold. bioluminescent tendrils swayed softly overhead, dancing reverently through the soft light over the gathered clan. the air was thick with song, low and tender voices blending with the steady rhythm of drums.

you stood at the centre of it all as they were welcoming the age of their future tshaik.

singing of your kindness and silk touch, their voices echoing of the bright future you were yet to make. welcoming you into your 18th year of existence.

your ceremonial beads laid heavy against your collarbones, each one carved from the line of tsahiks before you. your hair woven with white seeds and soft forest blossoms.

neteyam stood just behind, to the right of you- exactly where a royal guard should be. silent, steady. watching everything- watching you.

the smile that made him go weak. that hit a spot he didn’t know could be so soft. you were so delicate, your eyes trailing to meet his own as your grandmother slowly raised her hands to begin the blessing.

there it was again, that look- protective. devoted. a vow of loyalty- you had seen it in the eyes of your past knights, but never did they hold the same depth as neteyams eyes did.

"my granddaughter," your grandmothers force carrying across the clearing. "tonight you step into womanhood. tonight you-" her voice faltering.

turning slowly to where she stood, confused at her sudden stop, frozen in place. eyes focused on something that was not there- or where something would be.

you were about to question her, until the forest screamed.

the birds took flight, exploding from the canopy in a chaotic storm of wings. then came the sound, distant at first, but unmistakably unnatural.

engines.

the ground trembled, the drums stopped.

neteyams head snapping upward before anyone else reacted. his hand already reaching for his bow before the second tremor hit.

"no." breathing out. not in fear, but in fury.

a flash split the sky beyond the trees.

then another.

the elders began shouting. warriors leaping to their feet. mother grabbing children. the sacred calm of the ceremony now forgotten about

the night no longer glowed gold.

it burned.

smoke choked the air, thick and bitter, swallowing all that was once sacred. the great tree, your home- your heart- trembled under the assault, bark splintering, leaves raining down like dying stars.

screams echoed through the chaos.

war cries. orders. the crack of human weapons splitting the forest in two.

standing frozen at the edge of the clearing, your heart pounding so violently you could barely hear anything else other than the harsh drum of your chest.

until your father grabbed you.

hands firm on your shoulders, pulling you down to meet his eyes. ash streaking his face. blood streaking down his temple- it was not his own though, you realised distantly.

"you listen to me," his voice sharp but shaking beneath it. "you do not stay here."

"i'm not leaving!" you shot back, even as another explosion rocked the roots beneath your feet. "this is my clan-"

"and you are its future!"

the words silenced you.

behind him, neteyam loosed another arrow into the daunting smoke. movements precise despite the chaos, his jaw set tightly, eyes scanning constantly for threats- arm bleeding from a cut, but he didn't seem to notice.

running towards where you and your father stood, eyes set on you.

"neteyam," your fathers voice shook, "you take her now."

neteyam agreed instantly, even in war- he answered like he was born to it. "yes sir."

your eyes flickering to the burning trees behind you, sky full of metal and fire. "i can fight." eyes pleading with your father, "please."

" you live, that is how you fight tonight." he did not falter, shaking his head. "take her neteyam."

no other word needed to be said, neteyam began running with you, hand pulling on your own- firm and grounding.

another blast shook the earth. the great tree groaned, a deep ancient sound- a wound beyond saving.

you shook your head, tearings blurring your vision, mixing with smoke. "neteyam-"

the great tree cracked.

not a small break, not a branch.

a splitting sound that ripped through the forest like the ground had been torn open.

neteyam did not falter, pulling you towards the outer vines, weaving through roots and failing debris with instinctive precision- sheilding you from sparks, from splintered bark, from everything.

your legs moved beneath you robotically, your mind racing. your home burning behind you as you left it.

you stumbled, trying to glance back at where all that you loved was. he caught you instantly, one arm around your waist, bow slung across his back.

another explosion illuminated the forest edge.

"don't look back."

but you did.

through smoke and flame- your father rallying warriors- silhouettes of your people standing their ground. the sacred place of your childhood swallowed by orange light.

a sob breaking through your lips, neteyam stopped just long enough to turn you toward him. his hands framing your face, thumbs brushing ash and tear from your sheeks.

"i swear to you," eyes boring into your own, voice rough but unshaking. "this is not the end of your clan."

a gunship roared overhead.

he pulled you into the dense forest, away from the firelight, into shadows and bioluminescent glow- where the evil could not reach.

branches whipped against his skin as he led you deeper and deeper until the sounds of destruction dulled- not gone but distant.

only then did your steps begin to slow, feeling frozen. "we need to keep moving." he said low, trying to push you further.

your hand slipped from his, chest rising too fast. the glow of your burning clan reflecting in your eyes.

"we must go back."

he shook his head, "no," saying firmly, commanding. "we need to get somewhere safe."

"no," mumbling under your breath, "you cannot expect me to just-" your voice cracking. "hide!"

another distant boom rolled through the forest, head snapping towards it.

that was it.

you ran.

not away from the fire and war.

but towards it.

you barely made it four steps when neteyam caught you around the waist with crushing force, yanking you backward before you could break into a sprint- gasping as your back collided with his chest.

"let me go!" struggling against him with anger that was not directed towards him, clawing at his arms. "they need me!"

"they need you alive." he snapped.

twisting violently, you managed to face him- fists shoving harshly into his chest. "you are a warrior, you should fight!-" his posture still straight and powerful, "you should understand!"

"i understand perfectly!"

his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping hard enough to stop you from moving. "you are not running back into gunfire." he spoke, not as a plea- but as a direct order.

your veins boiling with anger, "i am not a child!"

"and i am not your friend right now." he shot back, "i took an oath to protect you as your knight and i am not breaking that."

the words hit harder than his grip.

he stepped in front of you again when you tried to sidestep him, physically blocking the path. you pushed against him, desperate- but he did not move.

he caught your wrists when you went to push him again, "stop."

you thrashed against him, furious tears blurring your vision. "that is my clan burning!" you could not recognise your own voice. "my father!- my family! they are all there!"

"and if you die out there, what was the point of him sending you away?" his voice broke- only slightly, but it broke.

you froze, staring into his eyes.

he didn't let go, "do you think i want to be here?" he demanded quietly. "do you think i do not hear it too?"

another explosion echoed faintly.

his grip shifted, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer so you couldn't bolt. "i was ordered to protect you," he said. "and i will not fail that."

shaking your head, breath hitching. "if he dies and i'm not there..." losing your voice before you could even form the whole sentence. "i am suppose to protect- i am suppose to fight!" almost as if you were saying it to yourself rather than him.

you beat against his chest once more, but the fight was draining out of you. "i am suppose to protect my clan." tears streaming down your dirtied face.

his hand came up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing away a tear streaked with ash. "if they fall," he said softly. "they fall buying you time." your breath shuddered. "and if they live, they live knowing you survived." you knew he was right, "do not dishonour that by running to your death."

silence stretched between you, broken only by the distant roar of destruction. finally, your fingers curled into the front of his chest, not pushing him away- but holding on.

falling into his chest, sobbing silently.

his shoulder dropped slightly in relief. arms cradling you tightly, protectively. "how could someone do this?" you whispered.

"i dont know."

another distant crack echoed through the night. pulling away just enough to look at you properly. "you may hate me for this. he spoke, voice steady again- knight once more. "but i would rather you hate me than bury you."

your chest tightened at the thought- you didn't try and flee again, you didn't fight the impossible fight.

you didnt want to run- but your hand found his, and held it tightly

behind you, the sky fell- crumbling in on itself.

and neteyam stood between you and it, shielding you from harm.

the forest morphed the farther you ran.

first, the smoke thinned out.

then the orange glow disappeared behind you, sheilded behind layers of thick canopy and ancient stone.

neteyam didn't stop until his lungs burned.

he led you through narrow passes, between roots thicker than oceans, across shallow streams that swallowed your footprints, into a part of the forest few have ever traveled.

only when the air smelled like rain instead of ash did he slow.

there, hidden beneath towering rock formations wrapped in glowing moss, was a hallow half cave, half cradle of roots. sheilded, quiet and forgetten.

you hadn't even registered you had come to a stop until neteyam spoke, "we stay here."

you didn't argue this time.

you stepped quietly into the refuge, the silence hitting you harder than any explosion could have.

no drums.

no shouting.

no fire.

just you, neteyam and the steady hum of the forests breath.

kneeling down, your legs gave way- finally resting, your legs burning with ache.

he knelt down with you, still leaving a bit of distance. "we are safe here." the words sounded hollow.

the cave glowed faintly from bioluminescent threads running through the old stone. blue light flickered over his face- ash smeared along his jaw, a small cut near his brow.

pandora had fallen asleep, darkness filled the sky, just as silence fell between the two of you. your breaths being the only thing one could hear.

you reached out without thinking, brushing his cut.

he went still. "you're hurt."

his face turning away from you, "it is nothing." brushing it off like the noble warrior he was.

your hand stayed planted there, gentle. for the first time since the attack began, he wasn't scanning the horizon, he wasn't listening for engines. he was looking at you.

"i am sorry your ceremony ended like that." he murmured, apologising as if he was the one to cause its collapse.

you gave him a tight smile, the wound still fresh and burning with guilt.

eyes moving to the cold ground beneath you. shivering slightly- which didn't go unnoticed by neteyam.

he shot up, not saying a word as he collected wood and made a fire.

it was warm- controlled unlike the flames you had seen earlier on. its soft hum echoing off the caves walls.

your hands stretched out to feel its touch, sighing in relief from its warmth. "thank you." whispering to neteyam as he sat down next to you, soaking in the fire.

neteyam slowly turned to look at you, the fire illuminating your features. your ceremonial clothes and jewellery still clinging onto your skin- even with the ash and muck on your face you were still beautiful. hair falling softly infront of your face.

he was entranced by your beauty, he did not want to stop admiring you, but he forced himself to tear his gaze. "you should get some rest."

you knew you wouldn't be able to, but you did not have it in you to argue with him once more- all your fight was drained out of you.

laying down on your side, staring at the fire in front of you- you tried to grasp the events of today.

neteyam still sat, his eyes drifting to you every so often- checking in if you were asleep or not- or that was what he was telling himself.

"you should rest too." you spoke, voice low and barely a whisper. you could see the tension in his body.

his features softened at your kindness, you always did treat him more as a friend than you did your knight. "i need to stay watch." your eyebrows sinching together, frowning slightly from where you laid.

"neteyam," his name rolled of your tongue like a prayer, one he wished he could hear on repeat. "please, get some rest." before he could open his mouth you spoke once more. "you deserve it too." your voice a plea.

his lips parted, his body relaxing from the tightness he had not even realised he had been holding in. "alright,"

sleep did not last for very long, ending up waking up to the soft glow of the embire flames. the night still upon you.

sighing, you knew you would not be able to go back to sleep. rubbing your hands over your face in frustration- or maybe you were just sad, you did not know which one it was.

glancing over, neteyams peaceful figure coming into view. his features soft and lush, oh how wrong it was how handsome you found your knight.

trying not to wake him, you got up slowly- walking carefully towards the small body of water that resided just outside the open cave.

it looked inviting, the moonlight reflecting off each individual ripple of liquid. water lilies sprouting in their home.

taking off your clothes slowly, careful not to break the delicate beads on your neck- setting them aside on the rock next to the pond, staring at them like an old friend.

your feet stepped into the water, trailing deeper and deeper until it engulfed you whole. cleansing your whole body.

sighing in satisfaction you splash your face with water, all the dirt and ash flowing away in the calmness of its soul.

for a second, just a second- the world fell still. you fell still, flowing with the water- not against or with, just letting it take you in whole.

everything was always peaceful emerged in water, water always able to slip through the cracks of evil- never letting it be effected. suddenly the weight of everything was balanced by the pressure of the water.

but, the need for air soon came.

air filled your lungs, the scent of the trees tracing your nose once more.

so consumed by the water- you did not even hear the faint footsteps approaching behind. "y/n," he calls softly, voice low careful not to startle you.

in that exact moment, he examines you.

and for a heartbeat, he looks.

not intentionally, not lingering.

just long enough.

long enough to see the moonlight spilling on the water, silver against your skin, your hair floating around you like ink in starlight. you are not armoured in silk or ceremony. not hidden behind status.

just you. bare and vulnerable.

his eyes widen slightly- not in hunger, not in impropreity, but in shock. in realisation, in sudden hyper awareness that you are bare in front of him.

his gaze shifts instantly. so fast its almost painful.

"i am sorry," he says immediately, voice rougher than before. "i did not mean-" his jaw tightened, regaining himself- reeling himself back in

you stiffen at the sound, turning to him.

he was not looking at you- you noticed that immediately, his front was slightly turned, his gaze set on the tree line rather than you.

"i woke and you were gone," he continues, controlled but tense. "you should not leave without telling me."

there was no anger in his tone, only fear.

"i could not sleep," you admit softly, "everything felt too close."

he steps closer to the waters edge- still not looking at you- positioning himself between you and the dark woods without even thinking of it.

"i understand."

you watch him from the water, even exhausted, even wounded. he stands guard. "i am sorry if i worried you."

he glances towards you just long enough to meet your eyes, "do not apologise." his eyes fled back to the tree line, respectfully. "you did nothing wrong."

humming you step towards the shallows, water lowering around you.

he hears it, immediately looking further away- giving you privacy without being asked.

"you may turn now," you say once you've wrapped yourself back in your garments.

theres a hesitation before he does.

almost like he was scared to loose control over his thoughts.

when he faces you again, his expression is composed. "did i fluster you knight?" smirk evident on your face.

though he does not falter at your teasing, even if his heart did flutter. "no your honour."

your face crinckles at the title, he never addressed you proper. "we have known eachother for a year now, neteyam." your voice soft, "you do not have to address me so proper."

"it is just respect,"

he notices the way your tail slows behind you, humming at his response.

the cave feels differant now when you two returned. the air is cooler, the moonlight barely reaches inside.

you sit near the still burning fire, damp hair hanging over you shoulder.

neteyams stands near the entrance. of course he does- always between you and the world.

"after this," you say quietly, his shoulders stiffening slightly, "after we find saftey. after my father gathers the survivors, after the humans retreat." your fingers twisting lightly with the fabric of your cloth.

"you can return to your own clan."

he goes still.

"i am not holding you to your oath forever," you continue, eyes not meeting his. "you have done more than was asked of you. once this is done, you will be free to go home."

the words echo softly against stone.

he doesn't move, doesn't blink.

part of you selfishly, wishes he denies it.

"i swore an oath to your father to protect you." he steps forward. "i will not leave unt-"

you cut him off, "i am 18 now," your words had power, "my father does not command what i do or dont now- you were sworn to me, i have the power to let you leave."

"and when the fighting ends-"

"it will not be."

the interruption is quiet and firm.

you look up at him, the moonlight catching half his face, carving sharp lines across his expression.

"you think this ends when the fighting does?" he asks. "when the fires die?"

you do not answer. "you think my oath is a chain," he says quietly, "it is not." he kneels slightly, closer now to your level. "my vow was to protect you, but it was also mine to give."

your breath catches. "yes your father bound me to you, but it is my choice to stay protecting you." eyes bearing into yours. "even if you may be 18."

the cave suddenly feels smaller. "then when will you go home?" the question hard to even form.

"i will return back to my clan when the time is right."

in that moment- like many before, you were swept off your feet by his strength. before you could even stop it, you spoke. "you have a strong heart, neteyam." whispering. "you will be a strong ole'kayton for your people."

for reasons he did not quite understand, he felt seen.

he bowed his head respectfully, "and you too will make a strong leader." your eyes lifting off your head slightly- he was the first to break the eye contact, as he always did.

morning comes quicker than you expected it to.

pale light spills into the cave- the forest feels quieter than it did the night before. outside the air is crisp. the pond glows faintly in early sunlight. mists hangs low between the trees as they wake from slumber.

neteyam is already awake when you step out. checking arrowheads, testing the string of his bow. focused. controlled. his head does not lift when you approach, "you always do still find a way to sleep in." he says without looking up, a smirk on his face.

"i need to practice my fighting." ignoring his playful tone.

not expecting you to say that, he looks up. "you already fight well." he would often train with you back at your clan.

"i am no use to my clan if i can just fight well," you reply, persistent.

"very well."

moving to the clearing just beyond the pond you follow. removing the knife from his cloth first and placing it on a rock, then his bow- turning to face you fully.

neteyam was a skilled fighter, you saw it many times when he would spar with the warriors in your clan.

"show me your stance."

lifting your chin slightly, you shift into a firm position- as you were trained to do so.

circling you slowly, he observes. his intense gaze making you shiver. "you are balanced," he says, behind you. "but you hesitate."

you turn your head in offence, glaring at him "i do not."

"you do."

before you can argue, he steps in suddenly. not striking, just testing your reaction.

you flinch, just slightly- you knew he saw it.

"you are a skilled fighter," he walks to be in front of you, "but you are reckless, you do not think before you strike- that is dangerous."

your brows furrow, "how am i suppose to think before i strike?" you question, "there is no time to think in a fight."

"that is where you a wrong."

you hum, quiet, calculatingly- before you swiftly swipe your feet below him, knocking him off balance by your sudden attack. sending him crashing to the ground. "you hesistate." you smirk above him, towering over him.

you should have known he would strike back, but you were so entranced by how he looked that you did not have time to register you were being pinned down.

his muscular arms pinned you down, caging you in tightly. his face close to yours- you could see every detail on his face. "just because your opponent is down," you feel your heart beat fasten. "does not mean they are beaten." he gets off you, leaving you flustered on the ground before you quickly regain yourself and stand.

"sxchawng."

the morning grows warmer.

you've been circling each other for several rounds now- light strikes, defensive pivots, measured corrections. sweat glints faintly along your skin. his braids stick slightly to his neck.

you're breathing harder, and so is he.

your eyes are locked on eachother, waiting for the other to attack- you move first, a faint left, he blocks- pivoting right, faster than before. he counters automatically- but you do not hesitate, you drop low, hooking your foot behind his ankle, and shove.

in one smooth, calculated motion you shift your weight and pin him.

your forearm presses lightly across his chest, your knee braced near his hip to keep him grounded. your other hand holding your blade to his throat.

not touching, just there.

his chest heaving up and down hard, the world going still around you.

for a long second, neither of you move. staring up into one anothers eyes. "you're dead." you whisper, pretending to cut his throat.

he does not respond, staring up at you hovering over him in awe, his lips parted slightly- suddenly aware of your body on top of him.

you dart your eyes to anywhere but him, heat growing to your cheeks from his stare- that did not leave you for a second.

you cough, getting off him quickly. he mentally curses himself as you stand, him following- cursing himself for letting himself falter.

night falls heavier than the one before- training left its mark.

the cut on your palm was shallow, but it bled enough to make neteyam go unnaturally quiet. demanding that you finish the session at your small cut.

you sit across from him, your injured hand resting in your lap. "give me your hand," he says finally, formal and controlled. you move closer, extending it. he takes it gently, like you were porcelain he was scared to break.

the contrast between his large, calloused fingers and your smaller palm makes your stomach curl for reasons that had nothing to do with the cut.

his eyes scan over it, "i am sorry for hurting you."

"we were fighting," you say, "it's okay."

he begins wrapping your palm with a clean leaf torn from a nearby tree. his movements careful and precise- focusing hard on the task- a bit too hard as if it was the only way to avoid something else.

"you held back." you say softly, cutting the silence.

he finishes looping the cloth, but does not yet tie it. shaking his head, "you are not an opponent."

"and that is why you lost."

that makes him pause. his fingers still around your hand. "you think i lost because i feared hurting you?" your silence was all the answer for him.

he ties the bandage securely, but his hands remain there- holding your own. "i know i am your protecter" he begins, "but i am also your friend." friend, the word sinks in deep. "i do not wish to hurt one of my friends."

in the morning neteyam sits you down, telling you his plan. "we will continue south." neteyam declares, pointing forward. "in two days time we will reach my clan."

your eyes widen, "your clan?" you question.

he nods, "we will be safe there- my clan know how to protect themselves against the humans. they can send people out to look for your clan and your father."

nodding, you were excited to visit the omaticaya people- you had heard great stories of their strong hearts and leadership. "are you excited to see your family?"

neteyam smiles at the thought- the smile that made you want to fall to your knees. "yes, i am." nodding, "you will get along well with my brother lo'ak, he too is very stubborn."

you roll your eyes at him, "maybe we can both talk about how annoying you are." glaring at him.

he snorted, shrugging his shoulders. "i am sure he would love to engage in a conversation with you about that."

"my mother will like you too." he calmy stated, as if the sentence hadn't brought a redness to your cheeks.

"do you think?"

"yes." how could anyone not like you he thought- you were perfect in every way. one would be nothing more than a simple fool not to enjoy your presense.

the forest floor is damp on your feet, leaves cling to your ankles as you move through the undergrowth. no ceremonial silks now, no polished jewels. only leather, braids and the blade at your hip.

neteyam walks slightly ahead, not far. never far. you have noticed he doesn't let more than three steps exist between you anymore. the forest you were in now belonging to no one.

that is what makes it dangerous.

"you are quiet." he says without turning, causing your head to rise.

"i am thinking."

he hums, "that usually leads to trouble." you almost smile, almost- until a twig snaps to your right, neteyam stopping instantly.

so do you. silence, too clean. no insects, no distant calls. just the slow drip of water from the canopy.

your eyes meet neteyams alert ones, his hand lifting slightly, a silent signal to stay behind.

you do not, you shift to his side instead, trying to see what is lurking deep in the forest.

his jaw tightens but he says nothing. then thats when you hear it, a low mechanical whirr- your blood runs cold.

neteyam turns just as a stun round blasts from the trees, hitting the trunk beside him , exploding bark into your face causing you to stumble back.

"move!" he shouts as gunfire erupts. you dive behind a fallen log as bullets tear through leaves overheard. the smell of smoke burns your nose.

humans pour from the brush, four, maybe five- you could not count with your mind racing.

neteyams arrows flies before they fully emerge, one dropping instantly- you follow him, drawing your bow, heart pounding- aim, then release.

your arrow strikes a soldiers thigh, but he does not drop- the soldier turns towards you with anger, rifle lifting.

neteyam sees it, moving with thinking- jumping to move you from the line of fire, the gunshot ringing as you both collapse to the ground.

you roll in the dirt, getting up as quickly as you can to see the soldier who shot at you charging towards you- you grab your bow once more, striking him straight in the chest. your chest heaving up and down at the motion.

neteyam finishes off the last soldier with brutal precision. then its quiet, too quiet. you do not have time to speak before you hear more humans approaching.

you and neteyam run straight.

branches whip against your face as you dart through them. lungs burning. the sound of human voices echoing behind you- closer than they should be.

"faster!" neteyam shouts at you.

"i am trying!"

gunfire cracks somewhere in the distance, leaping over a fallen trunk- your foot catchesm not on wood, not on roots, on wire.

it tightens around your ankle with a matallic snap that yankesyou backward. hitting the ground hard.

pain shooting up your leg. "neteyam!" you gasp, he skids to a halt a few steps ahead, turning to you on the forest floor, twisted in metal cable anchored to a buried stake.

a trap.

he's at your side in an instant, worry flooding his eyes. "get up." his eyes wide, hearing them approaching closer.

"i cant-" trying to pull free, the wire biting deeper into your skin. your eyes flick up to neteyam. fear in your eyes, "its stuck."

voices grow louder, branches snapping- the humans are close.

neteyam drops to his knees, grabbing the cable, trying to pry it open with his fingers, using all his strength- but it doesn't budge.

you breath starts to fasten, "do not panic." he says, but his voice is already shaking.

you shake your head, "i'm not panicking." you lie, but your quivering voice gives you away.

another gunshot cracks through the trees, too close.

neteyam glances toward the sound, then back at you. his breathing changes, faster, sharper. "hold still." pulling his knife, he wedges it between the wire and your ankle, trying to create space.

it scrapes uselessly, the metal is reinforced.

"neteyam," you whisper in fear, eyes wide- nothing was working.

"its okay- its okay." trying to calm you, putting the knife back into his side. yanking harder on the cable, hands already raw.

footsteps. you can hear them now. "neteyam!" turning your head to where the voices were approaching, thrashing it back towards him.

neteyam stands abruptly, bow in hand, firing an arrow blindly into the brush- a cry answers. but more voices follow- he drops back down to you, desperate now. "can you pull your foot out of the boot."

looking down at it, you try pulling out of its hold- but its grip only tightens. sucking in a sharp breath as it cuts deep into your skin. "neteyam-"

"i will get you out," he says, almost to himself. "i will get you out."

another bullet hits the tree above you, showering bark over your heads- he moves in front of you without thinking, sheilding you with his body while he grabs the trap once more.

"stop," you whisper, terrified now. "they will hit you neteyam!" your breathing rigged.

"then they will hit me first." his hands yank on the metal, groaning from the sheer force of it- using all his strength, and it works. popping open. the trap finally giving in. "pull your foot out." ordering, you yank it free just as another shot rings out.

neteyam grabs your hand and hauls you up so fast you nearly crash into him. "can you run?" you test your weight, pain shooting through your ankle.

"yes." a lie- he sees it, but there is no time to stay. he doesn't argue. hooking your arm around his neck and half drags, half carries you as arrows fly from his free hand toward the advancing soldiers.

you can feel his heartbeat, wild and furious through the contact. "you should have left," you breath against his shoulder, he doesn't slow.

"i would burn the forest before i leave you in it."

more gunfire, the trees thinning ahead. neteyam doesn't hesitate for a second, pulling you behind a thick cluster of roots and turns, loosing two more arrows with terrifying precision.

he looks back at you, your ankle bleeding crimson red. "stay down." he orders.

more voices come, not retreating- advancing. boots crush through undergrowth. metal clicking, reloading,

neteyam peeks around the roots and fires, one arrow, then another. a body drops, but more shapes move between the trees.

too many. his jaw tightens, "we cannot hold them here," you try to stand, but the moment you put weight on your injured foot, white-hot pain shoots up your leg, your vision blurring.

a bullet slams into the roots above you, splinters raining down on both of you.

he catches you immediately, holding you by your waist. "hold on to me."

he doesn't wait for your response, throwing you over his shoulders with one swift move, one hand secured around your body to make sure you dont fall.

branches whip past, his breath coming hard and heavy, but he doesn't slow- gunfire cracks behind you, he shifts you higher against him without breaking stride.

the sound hits you first, water- rushing voilent and angry. a river. neteyam bursts through the final line of trees and skid to the rocky bank. the river below churning white and furios, smashing against jagged stone- too fast, too deep, too dangerous.

before you could register, the river swallows you whole.

the impact rips the air from your lungs, the current dragging you under immediately, voilent and merciless. clinging to neteyam instinctively as water tumbles you both through foam and stone.

you can't tell which way it up- your ankle slamming against something solid, agony exploding through you, causing you to lose your grip.

panic floods your chest, water filling your mouth.

a hand grabs onto you, strong and certain- pulling you back against him, one arm locking around your waist as he fights the current with the other.

his legs kick harder, angling you both toward the darker undercurrent near the riverbed. letting the river take you.

you break above water only long enough for one sharp breath before he drags you under again as another shot rings from the bank. the current carries you far- farther than you realise.

your lungs start to burn, stars sparking behind your eyes- and just when you thought you could not hold it any longer.

he pulls you toward the side, slimming into a cluster of hanging roots along the riverbank, hooking one arm through them and hauling you up against mud and stone.

you cough violently as air finally fills your lungs. both of you silently regaining your breaths as the river roars past.

"you let go." he breathes, his chest rising and falling rapidly beside you.

"i coudln't-" you cough again, "the current pulled me under."

the cold begins to settle in now, your ankle throbs worse than before, soaked and swollen- you try to shift, a sharp cry escaping you before you can stop it.

neteyam freezes, the kind where something inside him stops- remembering you were injured. "hey- don't put weight on it."

looking up to him slowly, you opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. neteyam starting to become blurry in front of you.

too much blood, too much pain.

"y/n?- can you hear-" neteyams words were a distant sound to you, flowing entirely over your head.

and then- nothing.

your body goes slack, slumping in one sudden motion- neteyam shifts instantly, pulling you into his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other bracing your waist as your weight collapses against him.

"stay with me y/n." your lashes flutter once, then still. colour draining from your face under the light, breathing turning shallow, barely there.

neteyam was trained all his youth to remain calm in these sort of situations- but he could not stay clam, not when you were limp in his arms.

his hand slides to your jaw, thumb pressing gently against your cheek. "y/n," he shakes you lightly, just enough to jolt not enough to hurt. " look at me"

nothing. your head rolls faintly with the movement.

panic slams into him- "no-no..." he whispers under his breath, holding you tightly.

he runs, not carefully, not strategically, he runs.

branches whipping against his aching shoulders. wet leaves slapping against his legs. the forest floor uneven, treacherous- but he does not slow.

your head resting aginst his shoulder at a wrong angle, braids dripping river water down his chest. your hand hanging limp against his collerbone, fingers brushing uselessly with each stride.

"stay with me y/n!" he yells at you, voice breaking on the edges. shifting you higher, tightening his grip beneath your knees, careful not to jar your ankle.

your breathing is there, but faint, too faint. "we are almost there," he knew it was a lie, he knew you could not hear him.

he doesn't know how far you are- he calculates instead, the river bend they crosses, the slope of the bank, the way the trees thin slightly to the east. if he cuts through the ridge and avoids the low marsh, he can reach the outer patrol path of his clan.

if he runs fast enough, if he does not stop.

swallowing hard, his chest burning, lungs screaming for a break- any break, but he pushes harder.

the thoughts claw at him, if he reaches his clan, if he finds a patrol, if he finds his grandmother, if he finds anyone- anyone that can help.

"stay awake," he begs again, softer now, breath ragged.

around him, the forest begins to change- the trees grow taller, undergrowth thins. he knows this terrain, hope surges through him- sharp and desperate. 'just a little further."

your skin is cold, too cold.

he adjusts his grip again, pressing you tighter against him, trying to share warmth, trying to convince himself that you are still here- still breathing.

in the distance- he sees a shadow, moving not advancing.

neteyam pushes forward through the last line of trees and the he sees them- shapes in the distance, three figures moving along the ridge path, armed alert.

clan markings, his vision blurs with relief- he stumbles forward another few steps. "Over here!" his voice tears out of him, raw.

the patrol freezes at the sound of a call, heads snapping towards him.

running towards them now, no hesitation, branches breaking under foot. "i need help!"

one of the patrol members steps forward, recognition dawning their facial features. "neteyam?"

"get the healer!" he yells, not slowing. "she's bleeding-"

they move forward, running towards him- their eyes widening in alert at the figure in his hands, unconscious and bleeding.

one of them reaches him first, hands lifting instinctively to take you- neteyam doesn't let go immediately, for half a second his grip tightens instead. protective, reflexive.

carefully, reluctantly, he shifts you into their arms. the absence of your weight hitting him like a blow, his arms feeling empty instantly. "we are close to clan."

close, that words keeps him moving. running beside them now, close enough that he can still see your face, watching every rise and fall of your chest like it was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

the lights of the omaticaya flicker through the trees ahead, voices rising as they enter the outskirts of the village. warriors turn, children are pulled aside. questios hang out on the air.

he ignored all of it, "call tashik!" one of the patrol shouts, another voice runs ahead toward the healers tent.

when they reach the healers space, they lower you carefully onto the woven mats. his grandmother already there, clam but sharp-eyed, examining the figure in front of her.

"what happened?" turning to her grandson, kneeling beside you.

neteyam would have hugged his grandmother if it wasn't under the circumstances currenlty, "trap." he answers immediately, "we were ambushed by humans." his voice steadier now, but still shaking.

his grandmother eyes him carefully- noticing. "step back," ordering her grandson who loomed over you.

her healer hands move with practice certainty, cleaning the sound thoroughly, washing away river silt and diluted blood. the water in the bowl turning pink, then darker.

neteyam stands rigid just behind the woven partition, every muscle in his body straining toward you. you stir faintly at the sting of herbs pressing into torn flesh, his breath catching. "is she okay?"

"she is alive," she replies evenly- glancing at him again, really looking at him.

mud streaked across his arms. blood covered hands. a cut on his temple he hasn't noticed, his chest rising too fast.

"neteyam."

he doesn't move. "she needs stillness. warmth. focus." her tone sharpens just slightly. "you are not still.

swallowing deeply, "i can help."

"you are shaking."

looking down at his hands, he realises that he is- but he can not control it.

"you carried her here," she says quietly. "now let me do what i was trained to do." her wise eyes bore into her grandsons aching ones.

for a moment he looks like he might argue- protest to stay with you. but as he looks down to your withering body, pale against firelight.

he exhales slowly- taking one final look at you, "I will be outside." stepping outside the tent.

the air feels colder without you in his arms. the village is quieter now, though still buzzing with the word of the eldest sons return with a broken girl still lingers in the air.

neteyam stands outside the healers tent, staring at the woven entrance like if he looks away something might just seemingly change.

he does not sit- he does not pace, he just waits.

minutes stretch into hours- his breathing finally begins to slow, but the panic doesn't leave, it settles deeper, like ink seeping into fabric. he replays everything.

the moment you went limp in his arms, the horrified look on your face when you thought you were about to die.

his thoughts were interrupted by an all too familiar voice, "neteyam," his mothers voice, soft uncertain.

closing his eyes before briefly turning to face her, seeing his father and mother stepping into the torchlight.

they both stop in their tracks seeing him, they have not seen their son in a year- not properly, not like this.

he looks older, harder, taller somehow- but tonight the composure he's built for himself is crack clean through.

his mother stepping forward first, "you're hurt," was the first word she said, noticing the blood. her hand reaching for her sons dirty cheek.

his shoulders relax slightly, "it's not mine."

his fathers expression hardens instantly, "what happened, son?" his fatherly stare boring into neteyam.

swallowing hard he answers, "we were running- and she got caught in a trap-" the words getting stuck in his throat, "and humans, they ambushed her clan."

his mothers eyes go wide, "and her father?"

"i don't know."

his father gaze sharpens, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of everything you and his son had gone through in the past week. "you did well son." putting his hand on his sons shoulder.

his gaze dropping to the floor at his fathers praise, he did not deserve it. he doesn't answer- because if he speaks too much, his voice might give him away,

but his father studies him, not the blood, not the injury- but the way his eyes keep flicking back to the tent entrance. "you did your duty." his father says evenly, "after we help her clan rebuild you can return home and stay."

though the words were suppose to be comforting, the only worsened the tightness in his stomach- only his mother picking up on the slight change in her dons demeanour at the words.

her gaze softens, understanding. "she is important to you." not a question, but a knowing answer.

he doesn't deny it, but the way he stared back into his mothers eyes spoke all the words he could not.

"you are tired neteyam," his father begins, "come, rest, she is in good hands."

shaking his head, "no." taking a step back from them, both of them in clear view of him. "i am staying until i know she is alright- than i will rest."

neytiri turns to look at her mate, a knowing look being shared between them. turning back to look at her heartbroken son, stepping forward towards him. "we will stay with you."

neteyam nods once- not trusting himself to say thank you.

the night deepends around them. torches flickering low. the healers tent glowing faintly within, shadows moving occasionally against woven walls.

and then- more footsteps, lighter, quicker start approaching.

"is it true?"

lo'aks voice breaks through the still air first. neteyam stiffens slightly at the sound of his brother voice, not having to turn to know who it was.

kiri steps into the torchlight beside her parents, her eyes immediately scanning him, assessing, reading the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands hang too rigid at his sides.

tuk slipping in just behind them, smaller but wide-eyed, clutching a woven shawl around her shoulders.

"you're back." lo'ak says, stepping forward. shocked. "i heard you yelling from the ridge- i thought it was you but you sounded-"

he was stopped by a shove from kiri, telling him to be silent.

neteyams jaw slightly tightens. "i needed help." that being all he offers as a response.

tuk moves closer without hesitation, reaching up and taking his hand in hers- surprising him enough that he looks down, her small fingers wrapping around his, warm and steady.

her hopeful eyes beaming up at him. "don't worry neteyam, she will wake up." tuk says with absolute certainty. "grandmother always fixes things."

he hadn't realised how much he had missed his family while he had been gone, "thank you tuk."

lo'ak shifting closer too, standing on his other side now- not touching but close enough that their shoulders almost brush. "we'll stay."

jake exhales slowly, glancing at all of them- no one leaves, no one suggets it.

they just quietly form a line outside the healers tent, a wall, a family.

the eldest son in the center, mud streaked, exhausted, staring at woven fabric like it holds his entire world behind it.

because in some way, it did.

hours pass, the torches burning lower- tuk eventually leans sleepily against neytiri's side, refusuing to leave.

lo'ak crosses his arms, pretending he isn't watching neteyam every few second. kiri closes her eyes briefly, almost as if she is praying.

and neteyam, he does not move, he waits.

the light slowly shimmers off the ground, morning light finally hitting pandora. everyone in his family is alseep around him, but he is still staring at the tent flap, waiting for anything.

the fabric of the tent opens slowly, his grandmother walking out of it quietly.

neteyam stared up at his grandmother, holding his breath waiting for her words. "she is awake," that was all he needed for him to shoot up and walk to the tent, but he was stopped by his grandmother just before he entered. "she is a strong girl."

"i know."

the tent smells of crushes herbs and smoke. you lie on a mat, blankets layered over you- you look smaller like this.

your eyes are open, shifting towards him the moment he steps inside. your eyes glowing at the sight of him, "neteyam," whispering his name.

for a moment, he just looks at you- as if confirming you were real

he kneels beside you carefully, "you scared me," he says, voice rough from disuse.

hands coming up to brush a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear in one gentle motion.

your eyes soften, "i did not mean to."

his jaw tightens, "i though-" stopping to swallow.

for a split second the memory flashes across his face- your body going limp, your head falling back, the weight of you collapsing in his arms.

"i thought i lost you." the admission hanging heavy in the small space

watching him closely now, you see the dark eye bags under his eyes, the scratches covering his body, the way his body slouched as if it was begging for a break.

you shift slightly, wincing faintly.

noticing instantly, his hand slides down to your shoulder, steadying you without thinking. "you are not allowed to do that again," he says softly, "i was right there," continuing, voice lower now. "and i almost lost you."

your fingers move slowly, finding his wrist.

stilling at the touch from you. "i am here." murmuring in a whisper. your hands reaching up to cup his delicate face, "thank you neteyam," his heart swelling at every word. "you have such a strong heart- no fear." your hand tracing down his chest to rest over where his heart layed beneath his rough skin.

neteyams breath falters at your words, an almost broken smile covering his lips. "no fear?" his hand coming to cover yours where it rests. "it was all fear."

your brows knit faintly, "when you stopped breathing at the ridge," he sucks in a deep breath. "i have faced hunters, bullets- stood between warriors twice my size." his thumb pressing gently over your knuckles, "but that-"

"that was the first time i did not know what to do."

the confession settles in heavy between you, your hand shifting from his chest back up to his face, brushing lightly beneath his eye where exhaustion shadows the skin.

"neteyam," you murmur softly, his sleep deprived eyes lifting to yours instantly, as if he never stopped watching. "you need to rest."

he shakes his head automictically, "i am fine."

you give him a look, faint but knowing- he has not moved from your side, has not loosened his grip on your hand, his body still slightly angled toward you like he is bracing for something to happen.

"you haven't slept." you say quietly.

his jaw tightens, "i did not want to."

your fingers sliding from his cheek to his shoulder, "you carried me through a river," you whisper. "you ran through the forest." your hand drifting down, resting yet again over his heart. "it is still racing."

huffing a quiet breath at that, almost embarrassed at the fact his heart is pounding. "it will slow."

"not if you keep standing guard over me." the faintest curve touches your lip. "you are na'vi, you need sleep."

"i am not leaving your side." there was no room to change his mind in his tone, he was set- there was no way he was leaving you in this tent.

huffing, you realise you weren't going to win this. "okay," sighing, "but atleast rest with me."

neteyam wants to, he wants to collapse on the ground next to you- wants to fall asleep to the sound of your slow breaths, but he does not give into the urge- instead still trying to maintain posture. "i need to make sure nothing happens to you while you rest."

your eyes bore into his own, begging, pleading. "i am not going to rest until you do."

he thought for a second, finally caving into the tiredness that was weighing down on every muscle in his body. as soon as his body touched the ground he sunk into it, on his side facing you- he wasn't going to let you out of his sight, even if he was resting.

he felt his bones release from the tight strain he unknowingly had been holding in, for the first time in hours feeling relaxed- laying just a few hairs away from you on the woven mat, not touching, but close enough to feel one anothers warmth.

his eyelids began to feel droopy, this time he let it happen- staring straight at your sleepful figure, taking only seconds for you to be knocked out once again.

in those few seconds before he drifted off, he wished he could have the privilege of holding you in his arms while he did so- even if those thoughts were improper of him to have.

neteyam wakes slowly, the warmth in front of him is gone. eyes shooting open, the space across from him is empty. cold.

for a second, his mind does not connect the dots to what it is he is seeing- then the realisation hits him, sitting up so fast the woven mat beneath him shifts.

the healers tent is quiet, too quiet.

your name almost leaves his mouth, but his throat runs dry- his heart pounding in his chest.

without a second thought he is on his feet, pushing through the entrance with urgency- the morning light is brighter now. the village is fully awake, movement everywhere, voices overlapping, smoke rising from cooking fires.

he scans everywhere, too many faces, too much movement.

"have you seen y/n?" he starts, grabbing the arm of a passing warrior, who shakes their head, confused.

letting go quickly, his chest tightens. moving faster now, eyes sweeping through the clearing, through the pathways between homes. every second passing feeling like the river again.

he rounds the edge of the healers tent, about to call your name out.

but he stops- there you are, sitting cross legged on a mat in the morning sun, tuk sitting beside you, animated and focused, small hands carefully guiding yours through a strand of beads and fiber. you're leaving slightly to avoid pressure on your ankle, brows furrowed in concentration.

tuk is the first to notice him, "neteyam!' she calls cheerfully, making you turn, eyes landing on him- only then do you see it, the panic, the way his chest rises too fast, his eyes scanning you like he is confirming you are real.

he doesn't say anything in return to his sister, just slowly walks toward you- like if he moves too fast, you might just disappear again. "i woke up," saying quietly.

tilting your head slightly you speak, "and?"

"you weren't there." the words are simple, ones that would go unnoticed if not knowing the meaning behind it is deep.

your gaze shifts from confusion to sympathy, realising the cause to his sudden panic. "i asked your grandmother if i could sit in the sun," explaining gently, "she said i could, if i did not walk."

his gaze dropping down to your ankle automatically, properly wrapped and slightly elevated on cloth- already begining to look better thanks to his grandmothers expert healing.

his shoulder lower a fraction, "you should have woken me." he says, not accusingly. just honestly.

a small smile coming to your face, "you were sleeping, you needed rest."

he exhales slowly, realising he truly was just being paranoid.

beaming proudly tuk announces, "we are making something," holding up the half'finished piece. "for when she can walk again."

neteyam looks at it, then back to you- the sunlight catches in your hair, the smile ghosting your face. and the fear finally drains from his body.

crouching down beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours this time. "i like it." he smiles at his sister, turning to you. "mind if i join?"

shrugging you motion towards tuk playfully, "sorry- going to have to ask her if you can." smiling.

he laughs, turning towards his proud younger sister. "would i be able to join in?" looking expectingly at his sister- who looks at him reluctantly, almost like she was going to deny his request.

thinking for a moment, eyeing her older brother sceptically. "fine," huffing out, "but you can't make anything, i only have enough supplies for me and y/n."

he slowly sits down, not crouching anymore, "i can go and get more for you later if you wish?"

a large grin erupting on tuks face from his suggestion. "okay- i think i might have messed it up a little." you grimace, holding up the array of tangled threads in front of you.

"maybe you should leave the crafts to the professionals," neteyam pokes at you, feeling like he can finally let down his guard and joke again.

rolling your eyes at him, "okay- well do not act like you could do any better."

he extends his hound out, motioning for you to give it to him- placing it in his hand he begins to sift his fingers through the soft material. "i did use to be tuks number one craft partner."

"he did!" she nods enthusiastically.

you swear you only looked away for a second, by the time you turned back to him the material was somehow unknotted and now looking perfect. your eyes widen in surprise, "what?- how did you do that?"

the softness only lasted a couple hours, before reality set in again.

mo'at had cleared you to walk lightly, so by afternoon you sat beneath the larger canopy near the center of the village.

jake standing across from you, arms crossed, posture thoughtful rather than defensive. neytiri sitting beside him, attentive, steady.

neteyam remaining by your side, not hovering, but close enough that your shoulder occasionally brushes his.

the conversation calm, strategic. "we will send scouts at first light," jake states, "quiet. to asses damage before we move to supplies."

you nod slowly, "they will need medicine first," you say, "they attacked where everyone was- all my people will need to be cared to." the sentence pulling at your heart.

neytiri inclines her head slightly, "we will send healers with the second group."

neteyam listens in carefully, his eyes flicking up to you every few seconds- watching the way you sit, the way your fingers tighten slightly in your lap when you fathers name is mentioned.

"and your father?" you knew the question would come, but it settles heavier than you thought it would.

swallowing hard, "i do not know." the words feeling thinner now than they did earlier.

"we will find him." neytiri firmly says, eyes focusing on you determined.

jake nodding in agreement, "we help your people rebuild. we strengthen defences. we make sure the humans never dare to come back."

it is practical- strong, reassuring. you nod at everything they say, contributing where you can. suggesting which storehouses would be targeted first, which elders would organize rebuilding.

you speak like the leader you were always meant to be, the tashik your grandmother and father always wanted you to be.

but something in your voices has shifted, neteyam hears it- sees the way your back straightens a little too rigidly, the way your gaze drifts towards the forest line.

the meeting eventually concluding, plans set- everything now in motion for tomorrow.

jake clasps your shoulder gently, before leaving. "you are not alone in this." neytiri gives you a look- strong, maternal, understanding. before following him.

leaving you and neteyam, the noise of the village resuming around you. but you do not move, frozen in deep thought, hand resting in your lap, fingers slowly tightening around nothing.

stepping slightly closer, "you did well. " he says quietly.

you give him no answer, your eyes fixed on the trees that sway without apologies. "i should have been there," murming after a moment, the words are quiet, almost swallowed by the wind. "i should have seen it coming. i should hav-"

before you could even finish your ramble his hands are on yours instantly, firm, grounding. "you were ambushed- there was no way anyone could have known what would happen."

shaking your head faintly. "i was celebrating." the words cracking, "i was dressed in silk while they were planning the attack." your breathing slow. "they were protecting me," continuing softly. "and i ran."

neteyam steps in front of you now, forcing you to look at him. "you survived."

"that is not the same thing." the sadness finally surfacing, not loud nor dramatic, just heavy. settling in your chest like stone.

his expression shifts immediately to something gentler. crouching slightly so he is now level with you. "you did not abandon them," he says quietly, "you were taken out of danger."

biting your tongue you swallow the words, "yeah," knowing no matter what you say, he would counteract them all. your ears falling flat on your skull.

"here," he stands up, "come with me." extending a hand out to you

leading you through the dark forest, hand in yours. you trailed behind him, though you had no idea where he was taking you- you did not question it.

"it's just up ahead."

pulling back a large leaf, he urges you to move forward, keeping it upright for you. turning to look at him with a confused look before stepping forward.

it was not at all what you were expecting- bioluminescent specks scattered across the clearing, a cove of some sorts- the water rippling steady, the vines growing around it in harmony. dangling branches covering the cove above- almost like a ceiling of sorts.

"what is this place?" breathing out, taking in all its secret beauty.

"i found it a few years ago when i was hunting," coming up beside you slowly, "ever since then, whenever things feel like too much i would come here."

your head slowly turns to face him, "you would come here to be alone?" earning a small nod, "then why did you bring me?"

his eyes flicker from you to the ground, in thought, before coming back up to meet yours. "out of everyone, you are the one person who i would want to share this secret of the world with." his voice low and gentle.

the words sending shivers down your spine, the genuine edge to his voice sparking something in you. feeling the heat rising to your face you quickly turn away from him, "you are far too kind." attempting to hide yourself rom him by walking and sitting down near the water.

but his eyes do not falter from you, "i am speaking the truth." he breathes out, taking in the way your hair rests delicately on your shoulder.

staring at your reflection in the water you sigh, neteyams figure coming to sit next to you in the waters mirror. his face content. "what are you thinking about?" asking softly.

running a hand through your hair, "i am just scared." admitting softly.

neteyams fingers come to rest over your own, squeezing them gently.

the dangling vines sway gently above you, casting soft shadows over his face. specks flicker faintly along the edge of the cove, almost like the forest itself is listening.

"when i was younger," he says quietly, "i thought being strong meant never failing anyone." his gaze drifts briefly to the water, "i learned that sometimes strength is surviving long enough to come back and help rebuild."

the words settle into you slowly as you turns back to you. he looks younger somehow- not smaller, just unguarded. "when everything feels loud... i come here and it becomes quiet."

the sincerity making your chest tighten. "you share your refuge very easily." you whisper.

"no," he pauses. "i have never shared it." the air shifting, looking at him fully now. "i do not bring you here because i pity you, and not because i feel responsible."

his thumb brushes lightly across the back of your hand. "i brought you because when you are hurting, it feels loud inside me too." the honesty in it steals your breath.

"and i do not want you to carry this alone."

your throat tightens, "you already carry too much."

he almost smiles at your response. "so do you." gazing into your eyes. "when i first got assigned to you- i took it as just another duty, just another trail for me." you lean onto his every word. "but as i got to know the future tsahik, i realised that there was a reason i was assigned to protect her."

heart fluttering in your chest, your ears flicking gently in excitement. "what do you mean, neteyam?" his name on your lips making him shiver.

"i mean that, i know eywa had lead me to you." he whispers, the vines above you dancing in rhythm to your heart. your lips slightly parting at his confession. "when my time with you was nearly over- i chose to stay."

your brows furrow at that, "you were told you could leave?" more rhetorical than a question, you knew the answer. "why didn't you?"

he smiles gently at your question, tilting his head. "for a smart girl, sometimes you arent very observant." his finger brushing your cheekbone lightly, "i stayed because i knew i could not stand to go back to live a life where i knew of your existence." he pauses slowly, ears flattening to his skull. "even if it is improper of me to think such things."

his eyes fall to the ground, almost shamefully. you swallow, "but what if i want it too?" you whisper. "would it be so improper of me?"

his head snaps to you, eyes widening with hope. "no," mumbling, "nothing you could ever possibly do could be improper." looking at you like the most beautiful thing in pandora- which you were to him.

you had not even realised how close you were to neteyam now, unconsciously both leaning in.

your lips now ghosting over his, feeling his hot breath beneath your own- his forehead kissing yours lightly. "would it be improper of me to say i wish to kiss you?" he whispers against your lips.

"no,"

without even thinking, you leaned in. closing your eyes.

his smooth lips landing on your own, gentle. his hand coming up to cup your face. deepening the kiss into one that is passionate and delicate, your lips moving in sync- how could something so new feel so old? like you had done it a thousands times.

you wished it could have gone on forever, but you slowly came apart. coming up for air, your pupils dilated. "neteyam..." you whisper, fireworks setting off inside you.

his thumb slowly moving to you jaw, caressing your skin reverently. "every time you say my name," he leans in, "i swear i might just fall." kissing you once more, this time more short and sweet- a simple kiss that lead you aching for more.

your eyes were still close when he parted once more, your lips still trying to reach for more not realising he was no longer there. your eyes snapping open in embarrassment, a smirk forming on his lips at the sight.

your face heats up, turning down to face away from him- before you could, his hand meets your chin like yours did earlier, making you look at him once more- his pupils full and blown out, rail swaying behind him dangerously slow. "do not hide from me." he whispers, not commanding, not controlling- but begging.

his hand slowly guides down to your lower back, the hairs on your body standing up. you were speechless, completely in a trance by the boy in front of you.

leaning in, you thought he might just kiss you once more- but instead his head went into the side of your face, his lips ghosting over your ear. "you are beautiful" planting a kiss on the skin below your ear, making you inhale sharply.

his lips slowly trailing lower, going from below your ear to your collarbone. tracing the curve of the bone with his soft lips.

your eyelashes fluttering from the sensation, each touch captivating you more and more. your fingers finding their way to his hair, grounding him to the world.

then, nothing- once again he pulled back, staring up at you, his hands entangled on your waist. the tension between the two of you thick and musky- unbearable.

no words needing to be spoken, the desire behind both of your dilated eyes speaking more than anything ever could.

guiding you down slowly onto your back, one hand cradling your head, the other on your lower back, lowering you down to the bare floor. all while not breaking his gaze from you.

neteyam knelt in the grass over you, his breath uneven, hands trembling- not from fear, but from the weight of years spent watching you, guarding you, saying nothing.

your fingers reach up to brush his jaw, your touch electric against his flushed skin. the sight of you underneath him making him breathless. the way you were staring up at him, made him swear he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

exhaling, raw and ragged, pulling you to him. your mouths crashing together, no hesitation, just hunger held back far too long. his tongue sliding against yours, deep and searching, his rough hands gripping your hips, dragging your clothed flush against his growing hardness.

moaning into his mouth, arching into him, your breasts pressing against his chest. he broke the kiss, only to trail hot, open mouthed bites down your neck, your collarbone once more, until his hand found the ties of your top.

but before he even dared to disturb them, he paused, searching for any hesitance in your eyes. "is it okay-" before he could even finish his sentence you cut him off.

"-yes." your eagerness making him smile. even during this, he is always such a gentleman.

with one simple tug, then another. the fabric fell away, revealing your smooth, azure skin and small breasts. his eyes focused on them intensely, studying every detail. "you are so beautiful." muttering, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly on the sensitive skin.

crying out, your fingers tangling in his hair, pushing him closer. "i-.." you spoke, breathlessly, not able to even form the word- your hips rolling against his own, the thin barrier of your clothing doing nothing to dull the heat between them.

sliding his hand down slowly, over your stomach, then beneath the waistband of your loincloth, fingers slipping down to reach your slick folds.

"neteyam-" you gasped, as his thumb quietly met your clit, circling it slow and deliberate.

"shh," his hand running through your hair, "let me take care of you, yawne." the nickname making your ears flicker.

his fingers dipping lower, parting your folds in deliberate slowness, gathering your slick before sliding one deep inside. making you arch of the sand, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your inner walls clench around him.

his other hand still stroking your hair gently as he added another finger, stretching you gently, crooking them just right- your breath hitching, your hips jerking forward in rhythm. clenching around him, pulsing, greedily.

"look at me," his voice soft and delicate, when your eyes snapped open, desperate and full with passion- he added a third finger, stretching you just right, knuckles brushing your entrance as he worked deep, rhythmic strokes. his thumb circling your clit in tight, relentless spirals, firm and possessive, while his mouth crashed down on yours, swallowing every gasp, whimper, every broken plea from your mouth.

breaking the kiss, only to worship lower. lips trailing fire down your throat, over your collarbone, then closing hot and wet around your nipple. your fingers clawing at his shoulders, body trembling already from the unfamiliar sensation.

"i have dreamed of this," he confesses, his voice a low thrum that vibrated throughout you. "of you, here. it shames me."

"it honors me," you whisper back, arching your body into his.

dropping to his knees, between your thighs, he dragged your hips up into his lap, ripping his fingers free with a filthy pop- his eyes hungry and begging. "what are you-" you were about to question him, when his tongue was now where his fingers once more.

you gasp, as he devoured you, mouth wide and ravenous, licking deep through your folds, lapping up your slick like he could never get enough. his nose brushing your clit, as he thrust two fingers back inside, curling them while his tongue flicked hard over your bundle of nerves in rapid, maddening circles.

your legs shaking, you sobbed- overwhelmed with the euprhoria spreading through your veins at his every motion. he didnt stop, drinking you through it, sucking your clit into his mouth as your walls pusled around his fingers, milking them, drenching his hand.

only when you collapsed, breathless and trembling, did he slowly rise over you, eyes blazing- thumb reaching to caress her cheek. "you did so good." purring out a praise, that only made you ache more.

you had enough of the slowness, you wanted him- now. "i want you." the words leaving your mouth, like a prayer- one that was to be answered.

his tail quickening up its paste behind him, ears standing tall at your words. "i will give you anything you want."

reaching for behind him, hands gripping onto his braid- bringing it forward. his eyes widening at your silent request- to mate. "make tsaheylu with me." the words just felt all to right falling off your tongue.

the brave warrior did not say any words, simply just guided his queue to your own. in one simple breath, the tendrils connected. both of you gasping at the overwhelming feeling of the bond- staring into eachother with an expression of utter desire for one another. every emotion, every feeling- every memory, being shared between the two of you.

if you thought you were speechless before, you were truly speechless now. his hand coming up to cup your face, you could feel how you felt on his palm, feel how his lungs brought in air.

for the first time in a while, nothing else existed outside the radius of you and neteyam.

suddenly, it did not matter what evil lurked in the depths- all that you could focus on was him.

in that moment, all that existed was the two of you- now one.

reaching for him, dazed, your hands fumbling with his waistband. helping, he teared the fabric away- freeing his thick, heavy member, that was flush at the tip, already leaking.

guiding him to your entrance, wet and quivering- eyes locked on eachother.

pressing forward, the broad head of his cock breaching you with slow, aching pressure. your breath caught. leaning down, delivering a kiss deeply, one hand on your jaw, the other splayed across your hip, holding you steady as he pushed deeper- inch by inch, until he was fully buried, your walls fluttering around him like a vice.

you moaned at how it felt, the fullness of it all- if not for his hand holding you in place you were sure you would crumble. "neteyam.." breathing out.

"are you okay?" his eyes filling with concern and fear.

swallowing, your head nodding. "yes- just move." his eyes widening, not expecting you to be so eager once more.

snapping his hips forward, slow and passionate. you cried out, the sound echoing off the glowing cliffs as he pumped into you deep, claiming strokes, each one driving you further into the ground, into ecstasy, into him.

his face buried in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. both crying out, shared sounds of shock and longing- each smooth sound being swallowed whole by the dense forest surrounding you

"you are doing so good, yawne." there it was again, that name- you were in a daze, no longer in the physical world, no longer bound to the ties of reality as he filled you up completely.

with each thrust you felt yourself dipping closer and closer towards the edge, your body was on fire. "neteyam," moaning his name, when your voice reached his ears he quickened his paste.

the way you said his name- he knew he was not going to last much longer.

with a final groan, you felt both you and his release. collapsing on top of you, his arms holding him up so he does not put his whole body weight on you- still buried deep inside of you.

your chest rises and falls, stunned by what had just occurred- the feeling of his thumb on your face pulling you back down to reality. "you are so beautiful y/n."

"my beautiful mate."

the word rang in your skull, one simple word that held so much depth- who knew how much one single word could make you feel? "my mate." you repeat, breathlessly, wanting to hear the word once more out in the open.

smiling down at your dazed expression, the love in your eyes as you stared up at him, your legs still quivering from the past actions. "yes," he chuckles, "my mate." his fingers moving hair that stuck to your forehead.

"hm," you smile brightly, your hands reaching for his face- like you were seeing if he was actually real. "my grandmother was right," you never thought the words would leave your mouth, "i did mate with a brave warrior."

"let's get you cleaned up, pretty girl."

his hands washed your back, sitting behind you while you sat in the water. a leaf in his hand, cupping the water to spill onto you. gently bathing you. you swore you could fall asleep right then and there from the way his strong hands worked on your body. you hummed in satisfaction as he spilled water over your head, running a hand down your hair.

chuckling at your reaction, he came down to kiss your head. "we need to get back soon," whispering.

your brows furrowed, turning to face him. shaking your head, "no," you did not want to. "can we stay here for just a little longer." your eyes pleading with him- he could never deny you of anything.

it did not even take him more than 2 seconds to cave in, sighing while smiling at how beautiful you looked. "okay," breathing out, "but only for a little bit- tomorrow is a big day."

you groaned, remembering all that was happening that you had forgotten during your time with neteyam. "i forgot about that.." frowning.

“My mom is gonna kill me,” Mike muttered almost absent-mindedly, groaning while glancing down at the sink that was now covered in a red stain he knew was unlikely to move, no matter how hard someone scrubbed it.

“Like she ever comes down here anyway,” you murmured back, a smirk evident in your voice. His head turned in your direction, observing your sitting form through the gap in the door and watching as you stared into the pocket mirror in your hands. You were applying something to your face, some kind of makeup Mike didn’t know the name for. You seemed careful as you brushed the product on, hand moving with a delicate precision that looked almost professional. At least to Mike. 

“There’s red, like, everywhere,” he groaned again, his eyes lingering on you for a few more seconds before moving back to the disaster in front of him.

He hadn’t really thought it through when he started putting the blood on. When he had decided a week ago that he was going to tonight’s party as a vampire, he knew fake blood was needed to sell the look. Plus, if it looked good and he did it right, then maybe, just maybe, you might like it. Stubbornly, he didn’t ask for help, and now his hands and bathroom porcelain were suffering the consequences. 

He had stupidly, he thinks now, not used a cotton swab or something to apply the cheap formula, thinking his fingers would do the job just fine. Clearly, he had been wrong.

He turned the faucet, sighing as he hopelessly rubbed soap onto his palms before putting them into the sink, watching as the dye slowly seeped out of his skin. He knew there would be some kind of stain whenever you two left the house, but for now, he was just thankful the red was even coming out.

“I’m sure it’s not everywhere,” you mused, voice cadencing through the noise of running water and breaking Mike from his trance. “Where did you apply it? The walls?”

“Ha-ha,” Mike rolled his eyes at your terrible yet endearing joke, not able to force his smile down after hearing it. “I put it on my mouth and chin, and some of my neck. I don’t know. Just whatever looked right. But it’s runny as hell.” He huffed out another sigh, reaching for the soap once again to scrub at his hands a second time.

“Well, it was extremely cheap,” you said, a small giggle following your words that made Mike’s heart speed up. He shifted just slightly, angling his head once again to watch you, only to see that you had put your mirror on the coffee table in front of you. “Let me come see.”

The boy felt his heart leap once again as you stood, smoothing out your costume that of course looked amazing on you. Clad in a light blue top and purple skirt (or maybe it was pink? Mike couldn’t tell), both of which had come from your closet, it was easy to see that you were dressed as a mermaid. It was only more obvious now as you approached, the addition of glitter and various colors around your eyes making the costume pop even more. Mike swallowed the lump in his throat, cursing himself for getting caught up. Why were you walking towards him again?

You pushed the door to the bathroom, opening the space a little more as you entered. Mike held his breath as he watched your eyes travel over him, taking in his fake-blood handiwork. His heart was already sinking, expecting you to laugh or say it didn’t look realistic enough or just straight up say he looked like shit–

“I like it,” you hummed, your voice soft. “It looks good, Mike.”

So this was how he was going to die. He was certain now that you were actually a siren, your voice so sweet that he was ready to follow you wherever you led him. And the way you said his name. He would dive into the ocean for you right then. He could hear how genuine you were being, though, and knew you wouldn’t just say that to make him feel better. You meant it, and that thought set his body on fire.

“You think so?” His voice was weak, but he barely had time to dwell on it before you were reaching over him, your form next to his as you grabbed a hand towel that had been sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Of course I do,” you smiled, glancing into his eyes for a moment before your attention turned to the reddened sink. You placed the towel you hand just grabbed under the flowing water for just a moment, and Mike thought he might fall over when your hand just barely brushed over his. He watched silently as you started to scrub at the dried red liquid that was now stuck to the sink, desperately fighting to catch his breath from the comment you had made just moments ago.

Mike wasn’t sure when he had become like this with you. Your friendship came naturally, and the two of you had been attached at the hip since you were in elementary school. He supposes that’s how the overwhelming love he felt for you had come to be–naturally. It hid in the cracks of your friendship for years, starting to take shape back in middle school when Mike was still able to ignore the stutter in his breath every time you laughed at something. By the time you were in high school, his feelings had increased tenfold, and now every day, Mike found himself working overtime to keep his thoughts at bay. Not to mention that the rest of the Party had been out for his throat once they discovered his emotions for you. 

But tonight, on Halloween, of all nights, it was the most overwhelming it’d ever been. Maybe it was you in your costume–and god, you just looked so, so pretty anyway–or maybe the fact that the two of you were alone in his basement, but still standing right next to each other, as if all of the space in the world couldn’t separate the two of you. It was probably a number of things, Mike reasoned, and the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint it comforted him and simultaneously stressed him out beyond belief. 

He loved you so much. Too much, even. But he couldn’t stop, nor did he want to. He was a mess, and Mike figured that even if you might be the cause for his turmoil, you were ultimately the cure.

“You just gonna hold your hands under the water forever?” Your voice, once again, broke him out of his trance and he lifted his head, a smirk rising on his lips that mirrored yours. He shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together in one last attempt to get the dye out. He wasn’t really worried about it anymore, not since you had walked into the bathroom.

“Happy now?” Mike grinned, one hand grabbing the other towel from the counter and drying his hands.

“Yes,” you nodded, an airy laugh leaving you. “I am.” Your smile was infectious, and he was willing as ever to catch its disease, not once letting his eyes drift from your face as he wiped off his hands. You were still focused on the sink, and something about seeing you helping with a mess he had made without even asking made his heart leap for the hundredth time that night. Get it together.

Mike’s gaze shifted to the mirror in front of the two of you, resisting the urge to let his eyes immediately return to your frame as he studied himself. Damn, he looked crazy. Mike had splayed the fake blood down his chin and onto his neck, reasoning that a hungry vampire wouldn’t care about where it went. A little bit of surprise filled him as he noticed little dribble marks running all the way to his collarbone, suddenly thankful for the runny formula. Mike had to admit it–he looked good. He silently hoped that was what you had meant earlier, though he knew you were probably just praising the way the blood looked.

Mike eyed himself for a few more moments, comfortable silence filling the space around the two of you. The longer he gazed at himself, despite his earlier thoughts, the more he felt like something was missing. Yes, his costume wasn’t completely on–he still had a leather jacket to put on–but he knew it was more than that.

He squinted at the mirror, focusing on his face before quickly turning his head to glance at you. His eyes traced the colorful lines and smudges that framed your eyes, some sort of intrigue rising in his mind the longer he looked down at you. When your head turned and your eyes met his, he quickly turned back to the mirror, red flush creeping up on his neck as he tried (and failed) to act like he hadn’t just been staring dead at you.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, your voice sweet as if you hadn’t just caught him red-handed. You knew, you were just choosing to not bring it up. 

“Um– I just…well…” Mike tried, observing himself in the mirror as he listened to his heart pound in his ears. He took a long breath, pushing through his embarrassment as he let his eyes fall back to you.

“It feels like it’s missing something,” He shrugged, his eyes once again drifting over your face and lingering on your eye makeup, something inside him slowly clicking as he stared down at you. Your head titled, your eyes now moving over Mike’s face and he silently prayed that the blush from a few moments ago was no longer visible. You inched just slightly closer, and Mike swore you were teasing him in that moment as a soft hum left you. He was done for.

“I think I know what it is,” you grinned, pulling away while setting your towel on the counter. Your eyes never left his as you spoke: “Have you ever heard of eyeliner?”

How you read his mind like that, he had absolutely no clue. He didn’t question it, a shy smile rising on his lips as he shook his head. Your grin only grew wider as you mumbled a small ‘hold on’ and exited the bathroom. Mike took a deep breath for what felt like the first time the entire night, his heart getting a moment of respite before immediately picking up in pace again as you re-entered the bathroom. 

“Okay. Eyeliner is exactly what it sounds like. I think it will pull together the whole grungy vibe you want,” you explained quickly, glancing down at the objects you had returned with as you stood in front of him. Mike raised a brow, not quite sure why this process required a pencil but too excited to ask.

“Since when were vampires described with the word ‘grungy?’” He groaned playfully, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Since someone decided that vampires wear Converse,” you smirked, your eyes doing a one-over of Mike’s form. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t fall onto the floor after that. He swallowed, forcing a smirk on his lips and shaking his head.

“I’m a modern vampire, thank you very much. They are immortal, after all,” Mike mused back, and God, he really was bad at flirting. Luckily for him, you must’ve thought it was funny and let out a soft laugh. Or maybe you were laughing at him.

“Well, do you want to do it? Or– well,” you spoke up, your voice going soft and your eyes leaving him for a moment. “Do you want me to do it? I promise it will look good.”

God, yes, he wanted to say. Please. I don’t care. Do whatever. I’m yours. He pushed down the sudden surge of thoughts in his head, a small smile on his face as he spoke again.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Mike breathed out, adoring the way your entire face immediately lit up at his words. You ushered him to sit on the toilet seat, your frame now over his as he desperately how nervous he was. His leg began to bounce and he cursed himself, his hand reaching for his knee almost instinctively to stop the movement.

“Okay. Just sit still. I’m not gonna stab your eye,” you giggled softly, inching closer and lifting up the eyeliner pencil to let him see. 

“Promise?” Mike grinned, beaming up at you and gripping his knee tighter, already having to fight the nerves from how close you were.

“Promise,” you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips as you moved closer again, your legs just barely in between his own as you readied yourself. He kept his eyes on your face, watching how focused you were, and–

Oh. You were close. Reallllyyyy close. Mike felt his breath catch in his throat as your hand moved to his face, nearly grazing his skin with your own. He panicked the second the pencil edged at his face, flinching out of the way as his eye squinted in an almost natural response. Your eyes flicked over him curiously and he cursed at himself, swearing he wouldn’t do it again, but you stepped even closer and he moved again when your breath ran across his face. You groaned.

“Miiike,” you sighed, a laugh falling off of your lips as you pulled the pencil away. Mike’s heart was thumping against his chest, body so hot he thought he might explode. He was sure his face was just as red as the blood he had smeared across it.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice wavering and embarrassment flooding his chest. “I’m– nervous, I think.” A knowing smile then appeared on your face, and Mike felt like melting from how soft your voice sounded.

“I get it,” you nodded, softly sighing as you looked down at him with sweet, sweet eyes. You were so pretty like this, and it only made Mike more nervous to have you so close.

“I think you need to close your eyes. Breathe. Just relax,” you offered, head tilting down as you gave him another one-over. Of course it was easy for you to say that, he thought, it’s not like you could understand why he was nervous.

If only Mike could understand that you were silently going through the same thing, absolutely reeling at the fact that you were able to be so close to him and not even sure how Mike wasn’t seeing how shaky you were.

Mike sighed, letting out a soft ‘okay’ and shutting his eyes. He wanted this, and trusted that you wouldn’t hurt him even with how bad his feelings were acting up.

You took a breath, readjusting your hand and stepping closer, knees hitting the edge of the toilet seat and sending a chill through your body. You stared at Mike for a few moments, eyes flitting over his face and heart stuttering in your chest at the sight. He was so handsome and so close. You were absolutely done for.

You tentatively reached up with your non-dominant hand, fingers lightly brushing his bangs out of the way and biting your lip before you spoke up.

“I need to– uh,” Your voice was quiet, so gentle that Mike almost thought that you were nervous, and before he could dwell on it any longer, the warmth of your hand pressed softly into his cheek. Ohmygod. His heart pounded, head swirling with so many emotions that he nearly forgot to breathe.

“Is this okay?” You asked, and Mike nodded quickly, the word ‘yes’ lodged in his throat. At that, your hand pushed more firmly on his skin, slightly tilting his head upwards. Your breath was back to skimming over his face, your presence just inches away from his. God, he wanted to open his eyes so bad.

He stayed as still as he could as he felt the pencil run over his eyelid, fighting to keep his body upright each time he felt you move closer to him. At this point, he was certain that if he leaned forward and up just a few inches–barely even moving at all–the already tiny gap between the two of you would close and your lips would meet. And he knew he probably shouldn’t be thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it, not when you were so close, not when you were right there. He was losing it, his heart flying at an impossible speed and his head dizzy with thoughts of you.

Mike had to hold back a gasp when he felt your thumb move up, carefully running it over his eyelid and smudging the eyeliner you had just applied. You were so close that he could feel the heat of your body in front of him, seeping into his skin as you held him close. He was tempted to reach up with his own hand and cover yours, telling you to never let go. He could stay like this forever.

You switched sides, hand still on Mike’s face as you repeated whatever you had done on his other eye. You were just as close, if not closer, your breath ghosting over his face in a way that made Mike shiver. He didn’t know how he hadn’t died at this point, his mind and body so overwhelmed that he thought he might have a heart attack right there.

Mike sat still for a few more moments, breathing deeply as he relaxed into the soft touch of your skin against his. Eventually, your movements came to a slow and he felt you lean back, the warmth that had filled the small gap between you two dissipating just slightly. Mike’s heart ached a little bit at that, missing the closeness you had just shared.

You studied Mike carefully, glancing back and forth between his closed eyes to make sure the eyeliner looked even. Your hand hadn’t left his face yet, cherishing the feeling of your skin over his as you fought the thoughts in your head that were screaming at you to let go. This is selfish, you thought, just sitting here and staring because I can, because he can’t see. But damn it, you couldn’t look away.

The word ‘open’ left your lips before you realized it, and suddenly Mike’s eyes were locked on yours. Oh God. Your heart palpitated in your chest, his soft brown eyes staring up at you with an eased expression that made you want to melt into the floor. And the eyeliner. Lord, the eyeliner. You could’ve melted with how good it looked on him, and how natural it felt to see it on him. It wasn’t even that heavy, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel something more than you normally did when you looked at his face. Please never take it off, you thought, the words gnawing at your teeth and begging to be let out. For how long you had been crushing on Mike (and slowly but surely falling in love with him), this was the most attractive he had ever been to you. You were sure that middle school you would’ve had a heart attack at the sight of him like this. God, you were losing it.

You knew your cheeks were probably as red as the fake blood on his face, but you weren’t really thinking about that with how transfixed you were on his eyes. You were both still extremely close, closer than you had remembered, tension thick in the air around you the longer you kept your gaze on him. Your eyes, betraying every bone in your body, dropped to his lips without thinking and snapped back up as soon as you had realized what you had done. Ohgodohgodohgod.

All of your breath left your lungs and you both quickly separated, with you taking a step backward and Mike leaning away from you. Your hand released from his face, fingers tingling as the warmth of his skin lingered against yours. You should’ve leaned in when you had the chance, should’ve said screw it and let out every word that you had locked in your heart for years. Your heart was aching for him already, a perfect moment ripped out of your hands because of something stupid. Why was it always like that?

Mike’s body was on fire. What had just happened? He had opened his eyes, and you were there, right there, eyes wide and staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. And for a moment, just a split second, Mike swore your eyes had dropped to his lips. But of course, like normal, he chickened out and pulled away the second he felt himself getting a little too comfortable. He wanted to scream with how mad he was at himself. He felt like a damn idiot and now his chest was hurting, longing for your hand back on his face and for your warmth to completely envelop his body.

Mike quickly stood up and cleared his throat, keeping his eyes averted from you as he moved to stand in front of the mirror. You were still beside him, head down and completely silent as he looked at the work you had done.  

“Wow,” he muttered, his voice breathless. A smile crept back onto his face as his eyes traced the delicate lines and smudges you had drawn on him, his heart panging at the clear care you had put into your work. He forced his breath to remain steady, his words clearly strained but no less genuine. “This is like, really good.”  

With that, your head finally lifted, eyes moving back to Mike and off the floor. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him, watching as he leaned close to the mirror to get a better look. Your heart leapt again at the sight of his eyeliner, and you swallowed a breathy sigh. “You like it?” you asked, your voice gentle and forcibly steady.

“Is that even a question?” Mike grinned, turning to your direction and shifting away from the mirror. “I think it’d be harder for me to not like it.” Or you, for that matter.

To his dismay, you only smiled, not saying a word as your gaze fell back onto the floor. Shit, did he do something wrong? Crap, did you know? He was starting to think that you had realized his feelings for you when you were close just moments ago; you must’ve felt his breath hitch or his cheeks get warm as you held him in front of you. And while he knew it probably wasn’t that, he still convinced himself that it was, and immediately wanted to dig a hole into the ground and never look back. God, he was so embarrassed! 

Mike swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, trying to distract himself from the nagging thought in his head that you now knew every one of his secrets and felt bad for him, all because you didn’t like him back. He imagined that you were already thinking of ways to ditch him, to leave behind your years of friendship because you didn’t reciprocate. Tonight was sure to be hell, and it hadn’t even really started.

A clear of your throat startled him back to life, his body nearly flinching as he re-focused his eyes. He groaned internally, praying a sinkhole would open up and put an end to his misery.

“You okay?” You asked, your head tilting a little to the side. Your voice had a familiar teasing lilt to it, and it made a small bit of relief fill Mike’s aching chest. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Yeah, just, um–” He cleared his throat, praying it would rid his voice of its initial breathiness. “Thinking. Deep thoughts.” 

Just kill me now.

You smirked and raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but not questioning it as you shook your head and began to walk out of the bathroom. 

“Well, hopefully the drive is enough to ease your mind, Dracula,” you teased and shot him a glance, and Mike wanted to collapse right there. “We’re leaving in five. You know Dustin will be mad if we show up late.” Mike forced out a laugh at that, hands gripping the sink for support in case his knees gave out beneath him.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t know. But then why did you react like that when he was talking? Maybe you thought he was lying about the makeup? His mind surged with the possibilities of your thoughts and he pushed every one of them down, trying to resist the urge to overthink it more than he already had. He was a mess.

Five minutes blurred into one as the two of you made final touch-ups to your costumes, anticipation building in your stomachs for what was to come. You were still silently recovering from your slip-up earlier, and trying to move on from that situation entirely. You were sure he had noticed it with how awkward he was being, but you knew better enough to not question it just in case he hadn’t at all. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, Mike thumbing through your cassette collection in the passenger’s seat as you drove to the house you were to be at. 

“So, where’s the good music supposed to be? Do you have a box in the back with more or something?” He teased, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as if he didn’t like half of the stuff you listened to.

“Ha-ha. Good one, Wheeler. Where are your jokes supposed to be?” You sighed, your voice a straight tone as you glanced at him for a moment, fighting back a smile from rising to your lips.

“Okay, c’mon, it was funny. But seriously, where’s that mixtape I made? I thought you said you loved it,” He spoke again, his lips forming into an exaggerated pout, though you knew he was being serious from the way his voice wavered at the end of his sentence.

“Oh, it’s already in the player. I rarely take it out,” you smiled gently, holding back a laugh at the open-mouthed shock on Mike’s face. You stole another quick glance at him now that he had turned to face you, unable to resist the pull that his eyes had set on you.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” He screamed at you, a grin rising to his lips as his finger shot to hit the play button on your console. Your shared laughter filled the car as the sound of Tears For Fears rang in the background, Everybody Wants To Rule The World hitting your ears and giving you the boost of happiness you needed to get through the night. You and Mike began to scream-sing the lyrics together, a fluttery feeling filling your heart at the sweetness of it all.

Mike had made the mixtape for your eighteenth birthday, commemorating your years of being best friends and saying you needed something to remember him by if you guys separated for college. Like you could ever forget him.

Mike wishes he could say the mixtape hadn’t been an attempt at a romantic gesture, because it had definitely appeared that way once he glanced at the tracklist he had prepared. It wasn’t like he intended on choosing mostly romantic songs, they just all reminded him of you. The mixtape had been his way of confessing his love without actually saying it, and the fact that you apparently didn’t often take it out of your cassette player made his heart leap with indescribable joy. 

The drive continued for just a little longer, you and Mike still singing together with each song that played until you reached your destination. The house was already booming, people flowing in and out as you found a spot to park your car. The Sun had already faded out of the sky and hoards of children were roaming the streets, eager for any piece of candy they could get their hands on.

You turned and pulled the car key out of the ignition, both you and Mike quietly relaxing in your seats and taking in the last few moments of silence you would have for the night. Mike had spotted the rest of the Party as you were parking the car, and could see them walking in your direction in the side-view mirror. His heart panged with sadness, knowing the two of you wouldn’t be alone again until you drove him home later. He held in his sigh.

“Ready?” You asked, turning to Mike with a grin as your hand reached for the door handle. He nodded, and just as he was about to open his own door, you spoke again.

“Wait, one more thing,” you said, your eyes still on him. His heart began to speed up, a thousand ideas of what you might have to say filling his mind and making him regret agreeing to be here in the first place. He hadn’t even really wanted to go anyway, not until you did.

“Um, just…undo the first few buttons of your top,” you spoke, eyes flicking down his frame and back up. A grin was still on your face, and Mike nearly lost it at what you said next. “It’ll look better, trust me.”

He couldn’t even ask if he heard you right because a second later, you were already out of the car and chatting with Max and Jane as they approached you. He stared at you through the window, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he tried to gather his thoughts. Dustin saved him by knocking aggressively against the passenger-side window, looking expectantly at Mike and wordlessly urging him out of the car. 

Mike quickly opened the door, awkwardly stepping out and zoning out of whatever Dustin was rambling to him about as his eyes trained to you. He nodded along mindlessly, fingers working with the buttons of his top and letting them go loose like you had said to. Dustin was quick to clock that Mike was indeed not paying attention, his eyes rolling as he jabbed the taller boy’s arm with his shoulder.

“Ow, dude, what the hell–”

“Are you just here to make puppy-dog eyes all night or are you gonna have real fun?” Dustin sighed, shaking his head as they moved up the sidewalk.

“What? That’s– I don’t make puppy-dog eyes,” Mike protested, but was quickly cut off by the rest of the group.

“You totally do,” Lucas said, a knowing grin on his face.

“Yeah, you look helpless,” Will teased, earning laughs from the other two boys as Mike let out an irritated sigh.

“I am not–”

“Save it. Lying is a sin, Michael,” Dustin grinned up at Mike, bumping into his side as they walked. 

“And what’s that little window about, huh?” Lucas pointed to the skin of Mike’s chest that was now visible, making the already red boy somehow become even redder. “And eyeliner? Adventurous this Halloween, I see.”

“I’ll have you all know that these,” Mike waved a hand in front of his face and chest, voice irritated, “were her suggestions. She said it would make my costume better.”

“Her?” Will spoke, the smile on his face evident in his voice. “We didn’t say anyone’s name.”

“Guyyysss,” Mike groaned dramatically, putting his hands on his face. “Can we not tonight? Getting ready was hell enough, I don’t need you to join in on that train.”

“What happened when you were–” Dustin started, but was cut off by a shout from Max, who, by the look on her face, knew exactly what they had been talking about.

“Can you guys stop arguing or whatever?” The girl groaned, making you and Jane turn to each other and giggle. When you weren’t looking, the redhead raised a brow at Mike, giving him a look that said get it together before I do for you, and then turned to the other direction. “We have more pressing matters.” 

Max was right; they had made it to the house and Mike could already hear the music that was booming inside from across the lawn. Mike was silent as they walked through the grass and eventually stepped foot into the house, taking everything in. 

The first thing he noticed was the heat. The entrance was already stuffy, and Mike was sure it was only going to get worse the further they traveled into the house. It was so, so loud, so much so that he couldn’t hear what Dustin was saying despite the fact that he was standing right next to him. It reeked of alcohol and teenage hormones, and Mike was in the process of gagging when he felt a hand press onto his arm.

He blinked and met your eyes, his breath catching at how close you were. When did you get there?

“You okay?” You leaned up to his ear and spoke as loud as you could without breaking into a yell. The concern in your voice was clear, and Mike’s heart started running once again at the care you were displaying. 

“Just overwhelmed,” He said, leaning down to your ear and watching as you nodded in response. You looked like you were about to say something when a new hand grabbed onto his other arm, making his head snap in the other direction.

“C’mon, we’re not just standing around the whole night!” Lucas shouted, already pulling Mike away before he could ask any questions. You grinned at the brown-haired boy, who shook his head wordlessly as his friend dragged him off. 

As soon as he rounded the corner and you were out of sight, Mike let out a groan in Lucas’s direction. Lucas only shook his head, a grin plastered to his face that cut off any retaliation Mike was about to let out.

The house was a sea of teenagers, each and every corner occupied, and it was by no means a small home. Mike didn’t even know that there were this many teenagers in Hawkins, and he was confused on why anyone would let this many people into their house. Mike had never really understood the appeal of parties anyway, so attending this one had been the biggest culture-shock he’d ever experienced.

Lucas stopped when they entered the kitchen, the island in the center covered with various bottles and drinks that Mike had never heard of. His mind was a whirl, confused but nonetheless curious to see what this was all about.

Dustin had found something from the mass of liquids and had already poured it into four different plastic cups, and was looking at the other boys with an overly excited grin.

“Gentlemen, a toast,” He said fancily, grabbing one of the cups and waiting for the others to follow suit. Mike hesitantly picked one up, holding it up to his eye to try and see what was inside. It was no use, as the entire house was lit by colorful LEDs that changed every three seconds and made it impossible to see anything clearly. 

“To Mike’s first–”

“Last,” Mike interrupted Dustin, rolling his eyes as he mentally prepared for whatever terrible taste was about to enter his mouth.

“Whatever. To the teenage experience!” Dustin shouted, raising the red cup to the middle of the little circle they had formed. The other boys did the same, cheering while Mike stared at the cup like it had just said it knew his deepest secret.

Mike pulled his cup to his mouth, tilting back and trying to swallow the liquid quickly enough to not choke but to also not absorb the taste. Unfortunately, he failed at the latter. The sting of tequila filled Mike’s throat along with its pungent taste, causing him to immediately gag from pain and toss the cup carelessly onto the floor. He decided at that moment that he was not going to drink for the rest of the night, no matter how much he wanted to. The teenage experience could suck it.

He grabbed another cup, ignoring the teasing of the friends as he went to the sink and filled the plastic with water. He took a long sip, sighing as the sting in his throat began to dissipate. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something other than the loudness of the house or the mugginess that existed in every room. He couldn’t wait to leave, especially since he knew you’d be leaving with him. Was it bad of him to say he missed you already?

“You’re in for a long night, Wheeler,” Max’s voice rang through his ear, causing his eyes to snap open. He immediately rolled his eyes and took another sip of his water, shaking his head as he zoned back into the situation. Max, seeming to know what was in his cup, raised her eyebrow and smirked. Mike braced himself for the tease he knew was coming.

“Worried you’ll slip up in front of your girl if you drink?” She mused, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning closer purposefully. Mike’s jaw fell slack with embarrassment, cheeks turning red as his head turned in her direction.

“She isn’t my–” He started, but the words left him when he saw you and Jane enter the kitchen from behind Max’s shoulder. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat out of habit, to which the ginger girl rolled her eyes. He really was never going to hear the end of this.

“Hey, Dracula. Figured they’d dragged you here,” You giggled, eyes flicking to the cup in his hand as you tilted your head. “Already getting a start, I see.”

“It’s–”

“Water,” Jane and Max said in unison, giggling like they had just told the greatest joke of all time. Sometimes it irritated Mike how well his friends knew him. You laughed along with them, shaking your head and taking a step closer to him. He stiffened again, the proximity reminding him of what had happened in his basement not that long ago. He felt bad for his heart, which was probably on its last leg after running at what felt like a thousand miles an hour for the entire night.

“Anyways,” you pivoted the conversation, to Mike’s relief, “do you wanna dance? Get out of this kitchen you have no point standing in?” You laughed, and Mike’s knees nearly gave way at the sound. With a quick glance to Max and Jane, he could see them looking at him with intense stares that told him he needed to choose his next words carefully. He sighed, forcing himself to relax and move past the rapid beating of his heart as he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I’d like that. Y’know, moving from one cesspool of teenagers to the next,” He joked and his spirit soared when you giggled, shaking your head and looking up at him with bright eyes. He was never going to get over how pretty you looked, even when you were doing things as simple as laughing. 

Any words or thoughts Mike had quickly died within a second as he felt your hand slip into his, yelling ‘come on!’ and turning to pull him into the crowd. His heart was pounding in his ears, now louder than the music that drummed against the walls of the house, sending waves of nervousness all through his body. How he was going to dance without looking like a stiff board, he wasn’t really sure, but right now, he was just stuck on the fact that you had voluntarily held his hand. 

You eventually were able to find a spot just spacious enough for the two of you in the crowded living room, lights flashing brighter and the music louder than it had been since you stepped foot in the house. People swarmed the small space, each and every movement of even one person subtly pushing you and Mike closer together. Thriller, of course, was playing, though you could barely hear it over the slurred out lyrics of the teens around you. 

You and Mike shared a look, silently communicating in the midst of the chaos, and then let out full laughs at the absurdity of it all. Your hand had slipped out of Mike’s, to his dismay, and was starting to sway unconsciously at your side as the song continued to fill the room around you. Mike shook his head and laughed again as the two of you started to sway to the beat, smiling at each other like little kids. 

It was almost a miracle how neither of you noticed the feelings you both clearly held for each other. Seriously, it would have been harder to not see it. The Party noticed as early as freshman year how obvious you both were, and were sick of both of you for constantly dancing around your emotions.

Michael Jackson’s voice eventually began to fade out and everyone in the room slowed, seeming eager to hear whatever was going to be blasted into their ears. You seemed to catch onto the next song before anyone else, letting out a loud gasp at the transition into the new beat. A wide grin stretched over your lips as you turned to Mike, leaning up so he could hear you.

“I love this song!” You shouted, though the brown-haired boy could still barely hear you over the sound of the music. He leaned down just a little more, raising a brow with a smile as he looked at you.

“What is it?” He screamed back.

“It’s called Everything She Wants!” You grinned even further, and Mike felt his heart fluttering as he noticed how close you had to get just to speak with each other. “I think you’ll like it.”

Mike wasn’t sure if he actually did like it or not, because as soon as you started dancing, everything became fuzzy. 

You were right in front of him, smiling the entire time as your body moved with the rhythm of the song and even mouthing some of the lyrics. His body didn’t take long to follow yours, rocking back and forth with his eyes glued to you as the sweet sound of Wham! cut through your ears.

Words and melodies swam together in Mike’s head as you stared back up at him, your soft eyes pulling him forward without even trying. You both gradually shifted to each other, all while you danced along to the music that was slowly turning into white noise in your ears. Mike wanted you closer, the urge to place a hand on your waist and pull you in stronger than anything he’d ever felt. You looked so good like this, all carefree and relaxed like it was natural for you two to be like this. Mike was positive that he looked like an idiot, and dare he say it, a lost puppy staring at you like you were the only thing he’d ever known. He was so nervous, his body buzzing as he tried desperately to appear normal while you danced to the music.

You couldn’t pull your gaze away from Mike. His soft brown eyes had found yours in the chaos of the room, luring you closer as the gap between you closed more and more the longer the song went on. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, but the way he was looking at you caused a certain pang to shoot straight through your heart, and you wanted more than ever to leap forward and into his arms. You were still stuck on him in eyeliner, the shadowy lines you had applied hours ago popping even more in the lighting of the party and making you sick with longing. 

The sounds of the party slowly faded into silence as your dancing began to stop, you and Mike close enough that your hands were brushing together just by standing there. Your heart was flying at a thousand miles a minute, lips parted as you stared up at Mike with wide eyes. He was looking down at you just like that, and curse him for his stupid puppy eyes that made you fold, brown gaze lidded as his head tilted. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and it was nearly killing you to just be standing there without doing anything. You’d never seen such a subtle intensity to his expression before, and while you weren’t sure if it was just your own wishful thinking or not, it almost looked like want.

Something seemed to cross over Mike’s face, and without warning, his eyes flicked over you, stopping just below your eyes before meeting your gaze once again. He inhaled quietly, his hand brushing yours and sending a spark through your body as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You lo-”

“There you are!” A loud voice and the touch of a warm hand cut through whatever little moment you and Mike had just shared, silencing Mike’s words and putting an end to your staring. Fuck.

The two of you reluctantly stepped away from each other, the space between you now empty and cold. Sadness dug into Mike’s chest, piercing his heart and leaving him aching for whatever had just happened. His eyes lingered on you, mind still struggling to process it all, before turning to see Jane and Max, the red-head’s hand wrapping around your arm and starting to tug you away. No.

Mike still couldn’t hear a thing, now realizing how fast his heart had started beating and his ears probably suffering hearing damage from how loud the music was. His eyes caught yours just as Max was pulling you away, and the look on your face could’ve made him cry. You looked confused, a little upset, and, God, like your heart had just been broken. He was panicking, protests preventing your leave sitting in his mouth and waiting to be spoken, but he couldn’t find his voice, and soon enough, you were gone. He was stranded, all alone in the middle of a crowded room that now felt suffocating without you. 

Without much thinking, he quickly moved out of the room, not in search of you, but in an attempt to just breathe. He was on fire, heart still pounding and body still on edge like you were still there, standing right in front of him. He slipped out of the house and onto the front porch, immediately letting out the groan he had been suppressing since Max and Jane had dragged you away, doing whatever instead of letting you be with him, like they had a vendetta against him or something. God, he was mad.

The boy frustratedly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to ease out the headache that was already forming from the crazy emotions and thoughts running through his mind. What had he even been trying to say to you? It seemed like you had heard it, and he prayed with everything in him that the music had muffled it out enough for you to not even know he was preparing to speak. Maybe you wouldn’t question it, he thought, maybe you would just brush over it like you had earlier, when you had been so close that he thought you might kiss him. Maybe you would and he would lie, or–

Mike stayed in this zone of constant overthinking for nearly an hour (two minutes) before he finally stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the porch, head nearly throbbing. He was a mess, somehow still flustered from the moment you had shared and trying desperately to not think about how close he had been to saying you looked beautiful. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the headache that was pounding against his skull. He was about to overthink more when the sound of footsteps broke him out of his trance. Was it you? He turned around, heart picking up speed and abruptly stopping when he met the eyes of Lucas.

“Hey, I thought I saw you run out here,” the boy spoke gently, a soft smile on his face as he stood behind Mike, head tilting just slightly as if he were silently studying him. “You looked sick. Did you have more to drink?”

Mike quickly shook his head and smiled back, partially amused by the small tease but ultimately still too focused on the thoughts in his head for his happiness to stay for long. Lucas’s head tilted further before he sat down next to the other boy, lightly shoving his shoulder with a closed fist.

“Alright, how did you fumble this time?” A knowing smirk was plastered to Lucas’s face, and while he would normally roll his eyes and protest the teasing, Mike had no fight left in him. He breathed out a sigh, eyes dropping to the floor of the porch as he fidgeted with his hands.

“I don’t know, I just– We were dancing, and dancing close, and it was almost like, suggestive, I think? But she was looking at me, and wouldn’t stop, and eventually the dancing stopped because we were just staring at each other and–” Mike cut himself off, his voice getting pitchier the longer he recounted the moment. He cleared his throat, releasing another almost sad sigh as he brought his brown eyes back to Lucas.

“I was about to say something, something risky, but then the girls showed up and took her away before I could even get two words in,” Mike groaned, hands running through his hair again as his head rolled back dramatically. Lucas let out a small laugh, offering his friend consolation by patting his shoulder and nodding along as he rambled.

“What were you gonna say?” He asked, voice laced with something that sounded like he was getting ready to tease Mike.

“‘You look beautiful,’ I think. Look, I know it’s corny, okay, I just really like her and she did look like that and–”

“Mike, slow down,” Lucas interrupted, another laugh escaping his lips while he shook his head. Mike sighed, eyes falling down to the floor. Lucas hummed, looking around and thinking for a moment before turning back to Mike.

“So, you really felt like saying it, right?” Lucas asked, waiting for Mike’s nod before continuing. “Well, then why didn’t you? It seems like you could’ve.”

“I–” Mike started but quickly cut himself off, realizing that he probably should actually think about his answer. After a few moments, he spoke again: “Well, I didn’t want to say it in front of Max and Jane. But, thinking now, I… I guess I didn’t want to say it there. Like, I feel shitty now, but I’m… glad I didn’t. It would’ve been stupid.” Lucas nodded to Mike’s relief, and stayed silent for a moment as he processed his friend's words.

“Well, if it was me…” Lucas paused, tilting his head back and forth like he didn’t already know what he was going to say. A smirk was evident in his words, clearly finding amusement in Mike’s predicament. “I would still say it. Like, as soon as possible, preferably. Tonight, even.”

“What?! I can’t just–”

“Uh-uh. You were going to say it earlier, weren’t you?” Lucas raised his eyebrows and Mike swallowed, knowing that he would only dig himself into a bigger hole by protesting the truth. Lucas smiled at his silence. “Exactly. If you were ready to say it before, then you should. If you keep putting it off, you’ll never say it. Besides, I think she would like to hear it. From you, at least.”

“Lucas. She does not like me like that,” Mike sighed, dramatically swooping his head to look at his friend with a look of disdain. Lucas raised his eyebrow, a smirk falling onto his lips with ease.

“So she stared at you, and was basically on top of you while you guys danced,” Lucas held out his finger in front of Mike’s face, knowing he would argue about that little fact, “But you don’t think she likes you? Mike, are you blind?”

“Lucas!”

“Seriously, Mike, are you? I mean, if you think you are obvious, then she is a neon sign with an arrow attached,” Lucas snorted, shaking his head while Mike looked at him with the most disbelieving expression he’d ever worn. “Were her eyes all soft and sweet?”

“...Yes.”

“MIKE!” Lucas slapped his forehead, irritated by the other boy’s obliviousness. “Look, I’m calling it now, she likes you. So tell her. Or I will for you.”

Mike groaned, trying to listen to Lucas and believe his words, but some part of him was screaming that it was a joke. You couldn’t like him. Could you? No. Definitely not.

Unless…

Mike shook his head again while Lucas laughed at him, grabbing onto the brown-haired boy’s shoulder and pushing him back and forth.

“Look, it’ll be okay. And you said the eyeliner was her idea, right? It’s probably ‘cause she thinks it’s hot,” Lucas teased and Mike groaned dramatically, flushed at the notion of you thinking that of him. Mike didn’t even see himself as attractive; there was no way in hell you did.

“If I say it and it goes wrong, you are who I’m blaming. Even if I was going to say it earlier. I think you’re fucking with me,” Mike turned to his friend, a smile tugging at his lips as he spoke, though he meant what he said.

“You really think I would lie to you like that?” Lucas said in a mocking tone, throwing a hand over his chest and acting surprised by Mike’s statement. He shook his head, moving to stand up and then holding a hand out for Mike to grab. Lucas’s voice turned serious as he pulled Mike up, making eye contact with the boy to show him he meant his words: “Trust me. Please. Even if it’s just this time.”

Mike’s lips were moving to form the word ‘fine’ when an all-too familiar set of steps approached behind him. Mike’s heart started beating faster on instinct before he could even turn to confirm if it was you or not. It was.

You cleared your throat, making Mike turn around to meet your eyes. He could hear the grin on Lucas’s lips without having to see him. 

“Hey, Will said he thought he’d seen you come out here,” You started, voice soft. Were you flushed or was it just the porch light doing that to your face? Your eyes flicked to Lucas for a moment, eyebrow raising but keeping whatever you were thinking to yourself. “Do you– are you ready to leave? It’s too crowded.”

Mike had never seen you this awkward, and it worried him. Had something happened to you? Did he do something? Thoughts began to flood into Mike’s head at a rapid pace, and he had to force each one back just to speak to you.

“Yeah, I am,” He replied carefully, nodding at you. He knew Lucas was absolutely beaming right now, and the expectation that his friend had put on him was now weighing on his shoulders. Mike forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Okay,” You hummed, a smile finally reaching your lips. Your head gestured out in the direction of the lawn, eyes never leaving Mike’s as you waited for him. “Let’s go.”

Mike felt Lucas shove his shoulder as he stepped away, and the brunette shook his head. His heart was already in his throat and his frame was a little on edge, anticipation building in his gut as he thought more and more about what Lucas had said. Mike had been so consumed by the idea of you not liking him that he had never actually taken the time to consider if you could. The more he thought about tonight, about the years between you, Mike wasn’t as certain in his stance anymore. Still, he was a nervous mess, and wasn’t sure he would even be able to speak a single word of what he was supposed to say when it finally came time to.

You were both silent on the ride home, both tired from the heaviness of the party and just ready to get home. Mike’s leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, still deep in thought as he readied himself to say the words he had wanted to voice earlier. Just say it, he would think, but then a moment would pass by and the courage left him practically as soon as he had formed it. He did this several times before finally placing a hand on his knee, sighing out a breath and letting his eyes drift out of the window into the darkness of the night. The silence in the car just felt too heavy, and the longer he waited, the more anxious he got, and eventually, he gave up on the hope of telling you tonight. Lucas would have to deal with it.

As soon as he broke from his trance and he thought he was done, his own work came to play in his face. Every Breath You Take had been the last song Mike had put onto your cassette, and now that it was playing with you right next to him, he felt like an idiot. The song was taunting him, reminding him of the ever decreasing time you and Mike had together before you parted for college and making him silently lose his mind. He had so much to tell you, but not enough confidence to actually let it out. He was close to giving up on his love for you entirely, believing that at this point he would have to force himself to move on from you because he couldn’t speak up in enough time.

You were losing your mind just as much as he was, your heart aching at the lyrics that were playing softly in your car. The party was still on your mind, still nagging at your brain and making you wonder if maybe you did have a chance. At the same time, however, Mike seemed thrown off from the second he saw you on the porch, and hadn’t said a word since he sat down in your car. You were ready for this song to become your life story, to leave your feelings in your head and heart until Mike was finally out of reach, and spend the rest of your days wishing that you had just stood up and said something.

Sadness and longing echoed in both of your minds as the song played out, both of you still completely silent with how caught up you were in your thoughts. You eventually pulled into Mike’s driveway, sighing as you set the car into park and relaxing in your seat. Neither of you said a word for a few moments, both waiting on the other to speak up first. Finally pushing down the nerves and emotions that were building inside of your chest, you turned to Mike, and were met with his own eyes. Your heart fluttered, taken aback by the fact that he had already been looking at you. Get it together. You forced yourself to swallow, fingers nervously fidgeting with each other in your lap as you finally spoke up.

“Well,” you started, a soft smile on your lips that only made Mike’s heart ache even more. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Mike nodded, pushing his voice to remain steady as he spoke to you. His leg was still bouncing up and down, just as anxious as you were. He still had time to say it. “I’m glad you dragged me out there. Now I know to never go to a party again.”

Your quiet laughter made Mike more flustered than he’d like to admit, and a smile morphed on his lips at the sound. Say it.

“Happy I could be of service,” you smiled, voice just as gentle as before. You paused, the soft hum of the engine and the light melody of the music the only sounds in the car. When you spoke again, Mike’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. “I’m glad you were there.”

Mike wanted to melt at the smile on your face, something hidden within your expression that he couldn’t name making his heart stutter beyond control. His hand clenched his knee again, unconsciously trying to stall his nervous movements as the two of you gazed at each other, a subtle tension filling the gap between you the longer you didn’t speak.

Mike, after realizing he had probably been looking at you for a little too long, cleared his throat and looked out the window, his eyes falling onto the outline of his home. He sighed, realizing that his time with you for the night was over. Lucas’s words were still at the front of his mind, practically screaming at him to say the words he had tried to let out earlier. But Mike just couldn’t.

“Thanks for the ride. Oh, and helping me get ready tonight,” Mike said while his gaze turned back to you, immediately cursing himself for letting it slip out. The memory of you right in front of him replayed in his mind like a reminder of something he was missing, urging him more and more to just speak up already. He resisted, shoving the thought to the back of his head and trying to forget about how much it had affected him and still was.

“Of course,” you muttered, abruptly stopping as if there was more you wanted to say but were holding back. You released a breath, shoulders relaxing as your eyes flicked around one last time before reaching his brown eyes again. The subdued sadness on his face tore your heart into pieces; you would've done anything to replace it with a smile. 

“See you soon, okay?” You asked reluctantly, praying he didn’t hear the pain that had suddenly reached your voice. He nodded while unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“See you soon,” he said softly, and a beat later, he was out of your car. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, your hands flexing into fists before you released them, stretching your fingers out to try and rid of the anxiety that had settled beneath your skin. Time seemed to slow as you silently watched Mike walk up to his house, moving towards the side door that led into the basement you had been in just hours ago.

Your mind and heart were still heavy with thoughts and emotions, unable to shake the nerves inside of you. Your memories lingered on tonight, still not sure why you and Mike had suddenly become so awkward. Moments and details flew across your mind, each reminding you of the three words you had kept locked in your heart for years. You thought back to earlier when you and Mike had danced together– he had seemed like he was about to say something before Max took you away. That’s where it all went wrong, you thought. You remembered how Mike had looked so hurt after that, and how quiet he had been since that moment. At that very second, as you watched in anticipation as Mike’s hand gripped the door handle, something in your head finally clicked.

You couldn’t stop yourself any longer. You had to know.

You turned your car off without thinking, shoving your door open as fast as you could. “Wait!” You called to him, speed-walking in his direction while your heart started to pound within your chest.

Mike jumped at the sound of your voice, his hand immediately retracting from the door handle as he turned to face you. He breath hitched at the urgency in your movements, and he knew you well enough to know that something was on your mind. His eyes widened, heart already starting to beat faster at the possibilities of what you might have to say.

“Um–” You stopped in front of him, a bit breathless as you gazed up at him. You nearly folded at the sight of him like this, the soft glow of the overhead light casting a halo onto his messy curls and framing his face in what you thought was the most beautiful way possible. His eyeliner was just a little smudged, and his brown eyes glimmered with a gentleness that you had never seen him with. He looked stunning, and you were reeling, heart only getting faster the longer you stared.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, forcing your eyes shut for a few seconds as you pulled yourself together. Your words were a swift ramble, your nervousness causing your mind to operate at a thousand miles an hour. “I just– one question. A- At the party earlier, before Max and Jane took me away, what– what were you about to say?”

Oh. Oh God. Fuck, he was screwed.

Mike froze, lips falling just slightly agape. He stared down at you, some kind of disbelief covering his face as he tried to process your question. He could feel his face heating up at the mere thought of saying it to you right now, and he could feel his knees getting wobbly the longer he stood there. Why was this so hard to do now? He had been fine earlier, so what about now made saying it any different? He closed his mouth and forced down a swallow, trying to ignore that the tips of his fingers were starting to tingle with how nervous he was.

“I–” His voice cracked immediately, and he wanted to die right there, not sure how he was going to get through this. Breathe. Why isn’t breathing working? His eyes darted around, not sure where to look but trying desperately to avoid the intensity of your eyes. “You–”

The subtle lift of your eyebrow cut him off as his eyes flicked back to you unconsciously, and now he was really screwed. He felt trapped now, so many words lodged in his throat as his mind jumbled everything together when he needed it to work the most. He watched as your head cocked to the side, trying and ultimately failing to coax something, anything out of him. You sighed, and Mike felt like throwing up.

“You can be honest, Mike,” you whispered, the use of his name only scrambling his thoughts even further, “I won’t mind if it’s bad.”

“I think you might this time,” He replied without thinking, sad eyes falling to the concrete beneath him. He could feel your eyes on him, seeing into his every thought and fear as he stood there, helpless. He heard you take a deep breath and watched your feet move as you stepped closer, trying to ease him into speech.

“Try me,” you whispered, voice almost reverent. He could hear the subtle smile in your tone, and as soon as his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, he knew it was useless to hide any longer. 

“I– What I was trying to say is that–” Mike’s voice cracked again and he held back a groan of frustration, opting to instead just shut his eyes and inhale deeply. He paused for a few more moments before his eyes opened back up again, looking anywhere but at you as he finally, finally said what had been nagging at him for the entire night.

“You– You looked good. Well, wait, not just good, pretty. Shit, not that either. You–” He took a deep breath, hands fidgeting with each other as he finally gazed into your eyes. “You looked beautiful. And I know that’s weird and you’re probably thinking ‘wow, what a creep,’ but I just can’t help it because you are beautiful, and fuck, I’m rambling now, and–”

“Mike.” You cut him off, and Mike inhaled sharply. Oh. You were staring dead at him, looking up at him with something akin to certainty and, if Mike was being honest with himself, want. Ohmygod. What had he just done? It was over. Boom, he blew it. There goes his best friend. There goes those years of feelings, those years of longing and want and waiting, waiting for a sign that you might–

Mike’s mind short-circuited as your eyes glanced down, and, as much as his instincts wanted to fight it, your gaze lingered on his lips. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Was this real? Were you real? Had he dreamed up this whole thing? He was spiraling when you looked back up at him, lips parted and eyes expectant. Mike inhaled deeply.

“Do you really mean all of that?” You said, and your voice was so breathless that Mike thought he might fall over right there. He could only nod, words not forming in his mind fast enough. There was so much that he had yet to say, a thousand words on the edge of his tongue as he watched you carefully, hoping and praying your next words wouldn’t be ones of anger and disgust.

Time stretched out that moment as Mike gazed at you in all your glory, your cheeks flushed and lips parted as you looked up at him with intense eyes. You were so, so beautiful, and he selfishly let himself glance down at your lips, unable to restrain the pull that you had on him. He couldn’t hide anymore.

“Mike–”

“Can I kiss you?” You both spoke at the same time, both of your voices breathless as you stared at each other. Shock crossed over your face and your eyes widened, and Mike could feel himself panicking, readying himself to die right there when you finally rejected him.

You did not reject him. Mike was frozen as he watched you slowly start nodding, your eyes still glued to him like he was an anchor you were holding onto for life.

“Please.” 

Your heart stuttered as Mike then gently reached for your face, glancing at your lips then back into your eyes one last time to make sure you were certain. You nodded and let your eyes shut, body already on fire and heart ready to explode as he finally pulled you in.

The kiss was gentle, neither of you wanting to push whatever luck fate had gifted you with and mess up the precious moment you had created. You tilted your head up and into Mike’s lips, deepening the kiss as his hand held you close to him. You felt like floating, heart now settling in your chest as a sense of comfort fell over you. This was perfect. He was perfect. You never wanted him to let go; you could stay there forever.

When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to Mike’s as you both caught your breath. You felt dizzy and alive all at the same time, still not entirely sure if what was happening was even real. Your eyes opened back up and your heart fluttered as you looked at Mike, warmth hovering in between you as déjà vu washed over you. The scene from mere hours ago played in your head, remembering how close you were and how much had been on your mind at that exact moment. This moment felt so much like that, only now, you were more certain than ever with your emotions, and you had actually kissed him this time.

You had wanted this for longer than you could remember, and now that it was in your hands, everything that you had felt for years was rushed into the forefront of your mind. All of the doubts you had harbored disappeared the moment his lips met yours, and now, you weren’t afraid anymore. The words “I love you” pressed against your teeth and sat on the tip of your tongue, finally ready to be let out after all of this time. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were now building all over your body.

“Mike?” You uttered out, voice nervous as you locked your gaze onto his eyes.

“Yeah?” He whispered back, his soft eyes flicking up and down your face. God, that eyeliner still looked so good on him. You inhaled again, fists balling together at your side as you tried to stop the buzzing in your fingers. Mike, as if sensing the war in your mind, moved his thumb across your cheek gently, the reassuring gesture nearly making you fall over.

“I–” You murmured, voice low as your eyes found his. “I love you.”

You watched as Mike’s jaw fell slack, his eyes wide and cheeks flushing a color deeper than the red dye that was still stuck to his skin. You barely had time to catch your breath before his lips were back on yours, kissing you so hard that you nearly stumbled backwards. Your hand reached for his arm, holding on for support as you kissed him back just as passionately. He lightly tugged you closer as he stepped and pressed his back to the side door, his lips moving over yours so fast that you could barely process what was even happening. Your brain was mush, your only thoughts being him and how amazing you felt right now. Mike, Mike, Mike.

Mike pulled away, finally allowing both of you to breathe. He let out something that sounded like a curse before he leaned back in, his hand on your cheek guiding you right back to where you had been. 

“I love you,” he murmured in between kisses, his smile pressing into your own as he kept pulling you closer. You were at a loss, still not sure that this wasn’t all just a dream. But then he pulled away and his eyes were filled with so much emotion that you knew you couldn’t be hallucinating this. “I love you so much it hurts.”

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest at that, and you were sure that Mike’s hand was the only thing keeping you standing in that moment. You sighed out a small laugh, rendered completely breathless from all that was happening. You shook your head, eyes on him as pure warmth flooded your body.

“It doesn’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here, Mike,” you breathed out, head tilting to the side, leaning gently into his palm as you smiled up at him. He beamed back at you as he nodded, brown eyes so, so soft on you as he gently cradled your face. The two of you sat in silence for a few more moments, quietly observing each other and soaking in the presence of one another before you decided you couldn’t handle yourself any longer. 

“Alright, come on,” you giggled, your free hand moving behind him to twist the door handle before you pulled him inside. Your fingers slid down his arm and intertwined with his hand as you tugged him to the couch, a toothy grin on your lips the entire time. You sat down and he followed, immediately leaning into you and reaching for your waist as he kissed you again. Your hands reached for his hair, fingers sinking into his soft curls as you leaned back into the couch cushions. 

You let out a soft hum as he deepened the kiss, his warm hand sliding up and fingers coaxing their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, making your breath shudder more than you wanted to admit. A smile grew on his lips from that, something that sounded like a huff of victory leaving his breath as you pulled him closer.

When you broke for air, Mike leaned in again, this time pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he began to pepper kisses all over your face and even leaving some on your neck, causing small giggles to come bubbling out of your mouth.

“Mike!” you exclaimed, still giddy with delight and cheeks flushing more with each small peck he left. He was laughing with you, smirking as he finally pulled away and let you catch your breath. You were a mess, but you were a happy mess if it meant Mike was all over you.

“I can’t help it,” he cheesed at you, hand reaching back up to your face and then running his fingers down your cheek. “You’re too pretty.”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” you cheesed back, and you unfortunately realized how stupid you sounded after the words had been spoken. To your relief, he teasingly lifted his eyebrow, a soft grin rising on his face. 

“Me? Pretty?” He asked, shaking his head at you as he leaned closer. Your back was pressed into the cushions now, legs stretched out as he hovered over you like he was waiting for a chance to dive back in. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to.

“Yeah,” you nodded, deciding to go along with his joking even if you really did think he looked pretty. “It’s the eyeliner.”

“Wait, you really do like it?” He asked, real confusion crossing over his face as he stared down at you.

“Mike. I’d be happy if you never took it off,” you whispered, the genuineness of your voice making Mike’s heart stutter. “Please don’t take it off. You look ridiculously amazing in it.”

Mike scoffed out of surprise, your blunt words sending another wave of heat straight to his face. He shook his head, leaning even closer and letting his eyes drop to your lips once again as he tested the waters.

“I don’t even know how to apply it myself,” he sighed dramatically, his thumb slowly running across your cheek for the second time that night. For how big of a nerd he was, he sure knew how to make you flustered.

“Well, it’s your lucky day,” you murmured again, a smirk rising on your lips as you let him pull you close, the air between you charged with heat. You could barely believe what you were doing right now, but you couldn’t stop. You had waited so long, too long for this, and you couldn’t risk letting him slip away from you just as you had finally taken hold of him. Mike was yours, and you were his, and you had never been happier.

Your gaze fell, lingering on Mike’s lips for a moment as you just narrowly closed the gap, your lips brushing together while you purposely held out your silence. When you spoke, your voice was low, and you could feel Mike already leaning back in before you were even done:

“I know the perfect teacher.”

author's note: omg i finished it!!!!! hopefully you guys see my vision because come on….mike wheeler is an eyeliner wearer. i really am proud of this and hope you guys liked it!! it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written, but i loved writing it :))) i am all for writing more ab mike in guyliner or just mike in general so if you have a request or just want to reach out, my ask box is open!!! love you guys❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

You were mumbling to yourself like a madman, plopping down in a quiet corner. There was no way you were going to the ticket counter now; the angry mob of people had grown tenfold in just the few minutes it took you to walk over here. 

“Us frugal spenders got the short end of the stick, huh?” A voice spoke, making you spin your body in the hard plastic airport chair. 

“Fuck.” You laughed, holding your chest. “Oh my god, sorry I didn’t know you were over here.” A man with headphones wrapped around his neck was sitting on the floor, charging his phone. Barricading himself in his own corner, a similar idea to the one you had. His hair was organized chaos, his smile wide. 

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” His eyes went soft; they were brown. A warm honey brown you could imagine yourself drowning in. 

He was attractive, that much was obvious. If it wasn’t his face, it was how he held himself, even as he was tucked into the wall. Hoodie sleeves covering his hands to keep warm.

You spun in the chair, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I’m sure you didn’t expect a crazy woman to come over here and begin speaking to herself like she’s lost her mind.” 

He smiled, a true with-teeth grin. “Worst things have happened than a pretty lady having a moment of insanity. Besides, I think if you can lose your mind anywhere where it's socially acceptable, it’s the airport.” 

You hummed in agreement. Ignoring the way your cheeks flushed at his compliment. “Are you also going to Chicago?” 

“Guilty. My best friend just moved there, I’m thinking of joining, but I wanted to visit a few more times.” He smiled. 

“Funny. I just signed a lease there. My work is moving me.” You smiled, his eyes lighting up. “My sister’s waiting for me in my new place.”

“God, well, now I have to move, huh?” He grinned; all you could do was laugh. 

“It’d be nice to have a friend in the city…” You trailed off. 

He moved his bag, shuffling towards you with his hand outstretched. “Steve. Steve Harrington.” 

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.” You said, shaking his hand clumsily. He pulled away first, sitting there awkwardly for a moment before another announcement came on, announcing more cancelled flights. 

“Well, Y/n, I think you deserve a $20 coffee that tastes like dirt water and an overpriced sandwich that tastes like hospital food.” 

“Wow, Steve, you treat all your ladies like this?” You teased, standing up to join him. 

“All my ladies I befriend in airports for 24 hours? Absolutely.” 

“Hmm, and how long is that list?” He stood next to you, ready to take your bags from your hands immediately. The chivalry oozes out of his pores. 

“Right now? Pretty short,” He smiled, “Let’s say we claim this corner, huh? Unless you had accommodations for tonight.” 

It was an invitation to stay, one you’d be ashamed to admit you didn’t even think through before you were nodding. This fairytale book of a man showed up in his oversized hoodie, carrying your bags, and talking sweetly to you. You could see the looks of disappointment on your friend's faces now if you told them you just walked away, getting a hotel for the night as a normal person would. 

“Consider this corner conquered.” You said, a smile lighting his features. His eyes crinkled as he moved your bags next to his. 

“So I’m thinking, coffee first, then food. Then we attempt to occupy ourselves and somehow get sleep in this disaster.” 

“While also trying not to get trampled by the Home Alone family over there.” You added, watching a family of at least 12, all running through the terminals at full speed. 

He nodded, “Dying would be bad. This first date would be off to a bad start.” He said absentmindedly, the two of you walking side by side. 

“Date, huh?” You smirked, side-eyeing the man. He froze, his hands moving wildly before he began speaking. 

“Wait, ha. I didn’t mean, like I was joking. But also kinda not?” He babbled, running his hand through his hair wildly. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. We did literally just meet. I promise I’m not like a creep or anything-” 

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” You smiled, watching him continue. 

“And I swear I just said it. I don’t think sometimes, I should have asked, but-” He slowly caught up, “Wait, you think I’m cute?” 

You nodded, a shy smile on your lips. “Very. And for the record, we may never see each other again. So you better make this a very memorable date.” 

He brought his hand up in a salute, “Yes, ma'am.” 

Once the date was solidified, you both ordered your food. When you reached into your purse, Steve ignored you, handing over his card to the barista without a second glance. Your cheeks were red, your chest giddy with excitement. You felt like a middle schooler again, complete with the clammy hands and awkward gait. 

“How is it?” He asked when you took a drink, your eye twitching. 

“Tastes like they ground the beans with a rusty hammer and brewed it with mop water.” You cringed, “So exactly how I expected it to taste.” 

“Oh, that’s my favorite kind!” He gasped, taking a drink of his own. Swallowing it down harshly, “Oh god, that’s like horrible.”

The two of you ate your overpriced, horrible food with small talk. The silence wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. You learned that his best friend Robin had just gotten a segment on NPR, and his brother, for all intents and purposes, Dustin, was interning at the Field Science Museum during his undergrad. 

“It’s almost like the universe really wants you in Chicago.” You teased.

His face went soft, nodding silently at you. “I think it’s sending me some pretty strong signs.” 

You told him about your very boring corporate job in Healthcare; it was the first job that gave you an offer after graduation, so you took it. You had some family not too far away, so it seemed like the best plan. He said that he dropped out of school, you saved the pity, and just shrugged. 

“Things happen,” You reassured him. “What were you studying?” 

“Criminal justice and prelaw.” He admitted with a heavy breath. “Wasn’t sure if that’s what I wanted to do or if I was just doing it to make my Dad proud of me.”

You stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. “Well, what do you wanna do?” 

“Is it embarrassing to admit that I don’t know?” He spoke with an earnest look in his eyes. He propped his elbows up on the table, setting his face in his hands to look at you. “Sometimes I feel like a loser. 26 years old and all I have to show for it are some college credits and a resume of job hopping.” 

You shook your head, “I don’t think that’s embarrassing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace. I appreciate that you haven’t forced yourself to do anything you didn’t enjoy. I did. I earned a degree I don’t care about and a job I know I’m going to hate. Simply because it felt like it was the right thing to do.” 

“What did you wanna do?” He asked, flipping it back onto you. You let out a hefty sigh. 

“Oh man, I wanted to be a journalist. Wanted to travel the world and write about it. Meet new people, learn new things. Maybe write a book or two.” You smiled, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “But journalism doesn’t pay the bills if you don’t have a foot in the door.” 

“You know, my ex-girlfriend, well, really she’s just a friend now, is a Journalist. Moved to New York and everything. She just had her first baby.” He hummed, lost in thought, “Serious if you ever wanted to pursue that, I could give her a call.” 

You blushed, shaking your head. “No, that’s too much to ask. Besides, I don’t even know if I’m good at it, really. It was always just a faraway dream I had.” 

“Well, listen, the option is always there. Nancy would love to show you the ropes.” He smiled, his feet brushing against yours under the table. It was crazy the connection that spiraled between you two; the conversation never dried up. The next thing you knew, it had been well over an hour, and the airport was slowly clearing out as some flights went on and people found their accommodations for the night. 

“Do you think it’s time we venture back to our humble abode?” He asked, scooting out from his chair. 

“Lead the way.” You smiled, accepting his outstretched hand. His hand was so much larger than yours, your smaller one falling into his palm perfectly. You tried to stop the large smile creeping up on your face, feeling like a kid with a schoolgirl crush. It was ridiculous. 

His body stopped abruptly, your body nearly running into his. “Pit stop.” That was all he said before he dragged you into a random convenience store. 

“What?” You giggled, watching as he grabbed a tiny basket. Shoving it into your hands. 

“We’re gonna need snacks, drinks. This is also the perfect opportunity to judge your taste.” He smirked. Making you gasp. 

“My taste is fine, thank you.” You jutted your lip out, beginning to stalk down the aisles. Throwing various chips and candies into the basket. 

“Sour candies. Good choice.” He hummed, throwing in a package of cookies. 

“Chocolate chip cookies? What are you, 12?” You teased, grabbing a couple of water bottles. 

“You wound me, Y/n.” He pouted, continuing to go through and judge every single thing you looked at too hard. The lady behind the counter glared at you two, but you ignored her. Lost in your own bubble of giggles and endless flirting. It was just as toothrottingly sweet as the pile of sugary drinks and snacks in the basket. 

“Is this everything?” She asked in a monotone voice, which unfortunately just made you and Steve fall into another fit of giggles. 

You tried to pay, only once again getting pushed away by Steve’s outstretched hand, tapping his card to the machine. 

“You didn’t have to,” You frowned, “I mean, I think all of this was more than you saved on the flight.” 

He shrugged, uncaring. “This is still a date. It’s very rude to let a lady pay.” 

By the time you made it back to your corner, a few others were occupying the gate with you all. Most of them lay around, attempting to get some rest. It was hard to fathom sleeping while the sun was still setting; mostly, you were too wound up at the prospect of hanging out with Steve to even think about sleeping. 

“So I’m thinking, makeshift fort. Movie?” He hummed, pulling out a travel pillow and a jacket from his bag. You did the same, making your own little cushioned seat. You slipped your laptop from your bag, connecting it to the wifi while Steve arranged the snacks. 

Content on scrolling through the movies you hummed, the two of you trading off what you’ve seen before and what movies you’d never watch, when scrolling Before Sunrise caught your eye. You laughed a little amongst yourself. 

“This date is sort of like the movie Before Sunrise,” You noted, propping your laptop up on the makeshift table. Which was just your suitcase on its side. “We're just stuck in an airport and not in Vienna.”

“Vienna would be so nice,” Steve mumbled through a mouthful of Red Vines, which you absolutely bullied him for. He tried to hide them underneath the pile of snacks, but it was no use. He was adamant about enjoying the cherry-tasting rubber wire. “Have you ever been out of the country?” 

You shook your head, “Never had the money. You?” 

“Nope. We should go.” He said as if it were the casualist thing in the world. 

“What? Do you wanna hop on a flight right now? Abandon our lives and go jet set in a European country?” 

“I don’t think we’re in that kind of cheesy rom com,” He snorted, “But I think you’d be a great travel companion. I mean, you can be pretty judgmental about my favorite candy, but besides that, you’re pretty cool.” 

“Pretty cool.” You mocked, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“What? You are.” He laughed, adjusting himself closer towards you. You were both so close to each other, thighs pressing against each other. Your shoulders brushed with each movement you made. Once your laptop was ready, you leaned back, taking the risk of leaning against his side. Giving him a moment to pull away if he wanted, and he didn’t. If anything, he leaned further into you, his hands untangling his headphones. 

“Let me guess, time to judge my taste in movies?” You asked, taking the earbud he handed to you. 

The two of you share the wired pair, your heads now close together. He smelled like fresh laundry and cedar. His body warm against yours, you wanted nothing more than to lay your head on his chest.  

“See, you’re learning.” He smiled. “What about that Sunrise movie you talked about. I’ve never seen it.” 

You gasped, immediately pulling it up. “What a disgrace. I’m gonna have to show you true cinema.” 

“I don’t watch a lot of romantic movies, mostly action movies. I did watch a lot of movies in high school, Robin and I worked at Family Video.” 

“Family Video? Jesus, they’re still in business?” 

“Oh, absolutely not, went bankrupt a few months into us working there. Robin was convinced it was our fault. But of course it wasn’t, it was one of the last ones opened since the 80s, I think.” He hummed the subtle music of the movie’s introduction, traveling through the headphones. 

“You’re not a movie talker, are you?” You asked, turning to look at him. Which was a mistake, his face was so close to yours. His eyes are even dreamier up close. You could smell the red vines on his breath. 

The freckles on his cheeks that you never noticed before were now all you could focus on. 

“I could lie and say no, but I’ve been told it’s one of my only flaws.” He spoke softly, trying his hardest not to watch the way your lips curved with every word you spoke. He knew you were beautiful from the moment he first saw you, but now he was blown away. Your eyes staring into his made his chest ache, a warmness blooming there. 

“Well, I guess someone as perfect as you did need some.” You whispered, nearly jumping when the movie officially started, taking it as your cue to turn back to the screen. 

It was obvious the two of you were dancing around each other; you were slowly leaning into his shoulder at a snail's pace. And you caught Steve mustering up the courage to raise his arm, welcoming you into his chest. He’d stop himself each time, his teeth coming down to bite at his lip in frustration. He was nervous, and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. 

“What if he were a murderer?” Steve spoke up, eyes glued to the screen. “She was too trusting of him, I think.” 

You laughed at the irony, “Are you a murderer? I mean, look at us. We’re on a date now, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re in one location, arguably a heavily armed and secured place. They’re in a foreign country just running around with each other.” 

“I think it’s romantic,” You hummed, “To forge a connection with someone so quickly. To chase that feeling, not even thinking about the consequences.”

It was silent for a moment, Steve’s eyes boring into the side of your face. “I think I would have asked you to join me in Vienna.” 

“I think I would have joined you.” You said almost immediately, his arm finally moving up. Resting around your shoulders, giving you the chance to lay your head on his chest. He leaned back, giving you the perfect angle to rest against him. You could feel his heart thumping wildly under your head, matching the beat of your own. 

“See, I knew he was lying about something.” He whispered, his breath fanning hot against your neck. Making your skin prickle all over. You took his little comments in stride, what would normally be annoying for you, you suddenly found endearing. Enjoying his little bits of commentary. 

You sat up a little when the credits rolled, ready to get his reaction. 

“I hated that ending.” He spoke, face contorted deep in thought. 

A laugh bubbled out of your chest, “What? Hate is a strong word.” 

“For two people to have a connection that strong, that fast. It’s ridiculous to let that go right?” He scoffed, “I mean it’s f-fate, right? Something like that has to be. She could’ve given him a phone number. Something.”  

“This movie really changed your perspective, huh?” You smiled, recalling how hesitant he was in the beginning. 

“Something like that.” He looked at you, really looked at you. In a way, you weren’t sure you’d ever been looked at before. Like he really saw you, for who you were. Like he wanted to know you, to peel back every layer and memorise you. Like he was bottling this memory up to watch on rewind later.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. You kept your eyes on him, realizing just then that you were hanging on his every word. The thought was terrifying in its clarity. You were falling in love with a stranger, someone who had only existed in your life for a single, fragile stretch of time.

“I feel like we could have a better ending than that.” He decided on, smiling down at you. 

You made a noise of agreement, lifting your head off his chest. Already missing the warmth he provided. 

“What’s our ending look like to you?” You asked. He looked down at you, your lips barely inches apart. His warm breath hits yours, anticipation brewing in your stomach. 

“There is no ending,” He spoke softly, “Not to sound like a sap, but love doesn’t end. It goes on forever.”

“Hmm. You do sound like a sap.” 

“Do you not believe?” He asked, “In love, I mean.” 

“No, I do.” You smiled, both of your lips gravitating towards each other. “I just didn’t know you were such a romantic.” 

“Have I not been romancing you?” He teased, his hand coming up to rest gently on your hip. A respectable placement, one to keep close. To steady himself. 

You shook your head, “Consider me romanced.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his brown eyes darkened. All you could do was nod, meeting him halfway. When your lips met halfway, the rest of the world faded out of view. Gone was the noisy airport traffic; all you could feel was him. His soft lips are moving eagerly against yours.

Sparks flew beneath your skin, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. You were both lost in the kiss. In the feeling of each other, his hand pulled you closer. Your body was nearly toppling on top of his before you both stopped. 

It was as if, simultaneously, you both remembered where you were, breaking out of your own orbit. 

Your surroundings came crashing back down. His face was flushed, lips glossy from your own. You were winded, staring at him with a wild look in your eyes. 

“You’re beautiful.” He gave you one last peck on the lips before letting you pull yourself up. Sitting back upright. 

“You’re beautiful.” You returned because he was. Every inch of his face looked as though he had been hand-carved by the gods themselves. 

He made a pathetic noise, covering it up with a loud cough. Only making you laugh. “No one’s ever called me that before.” 

“Then I need to find all of your ex-girlfriends and give them a piece of my mind,” You hummed, letting your hand cup his cheek. Your thumb rubbing small circles into the skin. “Because you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I mean it.” 

“You sweet-talking me for more kisses, huh?” He asked, leaning forward. 

“I don’t think I have to.” You teased, pressing your lips together once again. He felt like a drug; the moment you got a taste, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to let it go. You were addicted, drowning in him. 

This one was different, more intense. His mouth explored yours, your mouth parting for him with little to no effort. Letting his tongue pry out pathetic whimpers from your mouth. Hands gripping each other messily, your hands in his hair. His hands on your face, your hips. He pulled away, pressing wet kisses down your neck. Sucking gently on the flesh between your ear and neck. 

“We might get kicked out of this airport if we keep going.” He whispered, your lips parted in a broken gasp. “As much as I’d like to continue, I don’t intend on being on a do-not-fly list.” 

You gave him a breathy laugh, slapping his chest playfully. “Maybe we should have gotten a hotel.” 

The words made him pause, his brows dipping slightly while you readjusted in your spot. 

“I want you to know that I didn’t ask you on this impromptu date just for that.” He started, “I really like you. I just wanted to get to know you; it wasn’t some grand scheme to get laid.” 

“I know,” You smiled, “I do think it would be a bonus though.” 

“Well, yeah, obviously.” He scoffed, grabbing your hand in his. “I just didn’t want you to think I was using you.” 

“I didn’t think that, Steve.” You assured him, lacing your fingers through his. Bringing it up to press a small kiss to his palm. “You know I’m not using you either, right? I do really like you. Probably more than I should for having just met you.” 

“I mean, it would be an honor for you to use me,” He smirked, “But I feel the same way. Like, I’ll wake up, and this was all some weird dream. These kinds of things don’t happen to me. Only in movies.” 

He nodded his head to the now darkened laptop screen. 

“I find that hard to believe. I bet you sweep all the ladies off their feet.” You laughed, trying not to think about just how many. You had no right to be upset, but your chest ached at the thought of him doing this same thing to other women. 

He just shook his head, “I’m actually terrible with women for the most part. Between my last few girlfriends, I’ve just been awful at it.” 

“I don’t see how.” You admitted, “I mean, look at us. We’ve already had at least three dates in one. We’ve spent five or more hours together. We just had our first kiss. We’ll be married by midnight at this rate.” 

“I don’t know. Just seems like I’m never good enough, you know? I mean, both my ex-girlfriends married the person they left me for. Just kinda seems like I’m bad luck, you know?” 

Your heart ached for him, squeezing his hand tighter from where it sat in yours. “Well, I disagree. I also think they’re fools for not realizing what was right in front of them when they had it.”

“I just think we won’t be together long enough for you to realize it, or you’d be running for the hills.” He tried to laugh it off, but you could hear the ache in his voice. 

“How presumptuous of you,” You settled on, “You deserve love. Anyone who can’t handle you just wasn’t worthy of you. That has nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.” 

“Maybe my parents messed me up more than I’d admit.” He sighed, “They were super absent. Not in love, I don’t think they ever were. I was just a byproduct of a young mistake. So by the time I got my first girlfriend, I just kept screwing it up. Typical young cliche mommy and daddy issues.” 

“I mean, I don’t disagree.” You smiled, “But give yourself a break. The whole time I’ve known you, albeit not very long, you’ve been way too hard on yourself. Any girl would be lucky to love you, to be loved by you.”

Your words felt heavy on his chest. “And you. How are you not already taken? I would’ve thought someone would’ve been wise enough to put a ring on your finger already.” 

You laughed, a real one. Ugly and nasally. “Oh my god, no.”

“Oh, so commitment issues then?” He cocked an eyebrow at you. 

“Maybe, I dunno.” You laughed, “Just haven’t found anyone I click with long term. I don’t know if you knew this, but most men suck. Like astronomically bad. You’re like the first man in years that’s blindly paid for a first date. Last date I had he sent me a Venmo request while I was still in the parking lot.” 

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” He deadpanned, making you laugh even harder. He would be fine if that was the last thing he ever heard in this world. 

“By all means, my night and shining armour.” 

“You deserve more than just a free meal. You deserve,” He sighed, “Romance. Like true romance. Candlelit dinners, roses, the whole red carpet.” 

“Oh, so you don’t take your dates to the airport and spend hundreds of dollars on shitty snacks with them?” 

“Not typically, no, you’re just extra special.” He grinned. 

“Thank god for that.” You smiled, leaning into his space once again. Letting your faces hover over each other. Both of you just drinking each other in. “But just so you know, I don’t need all that fancy stuff. All I need is good company. And I think I got the best.” 

“Yeah?” His eyes lit up, flickering between your eyes and lips. 

“Yeah.” You breathed out, pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. This one is heavier, full of words unsaid. Full of the tension that had been coiled tightly between you two. 

“Well,” He let out a breath, “Enough of that. What’s next on our movie list?” 

“Let’s watch a Christmas movie and then dinner? Options are slim, but I can wine and dine you later.” You winked at him, finally getting the smile back on his face. “And you’re letting me pay.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He said, very uncovningly. “But a Christmas movie? Not feeling very in the spirit?” 

“I’m missing all my Christmas Eve festivities. The least you can do is entertain me with some Christmas joy.” You laughed, watching him pull your laptop into his lap. 

“I got it,” He snapped his fingers after some scrolling. “Die hard.” 

You stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. “I said a Christmas movie.” 

“I can’t believe you don’t consider Die Hard a Christmas movie.” He scoffed, your shoulders brushing against each other, purposeful now. Leaning into each other for warmth. No hesitation in your actions. Your bodies now clinging to each other, physically mourning each moment you were apart.

“I can acknowledge it takes place during Christmas,” You argued, “But it’s just an action movie that so happens to be around the Holidays.” 

“Didn’t know you were such a bah humbug.” He joked, pressing play anyway. “After this, you’re gonna change your mind. I promise.” 

You both weren’t a few minutes into the movie before a shrill scream ripped your eyes away from the screen. Looking for the source of the noise. It was a few rows away, an elderly lady, barely holding her husband up as he clasped his hand over his chest. Falling to the floor as each second passed. 

Neither you nor Steve wasted a second; both of you yanking the shared earbuds out of your ears, rushing over to the couple. Steve was on his knees, fingers pressing against the man's neck to check for a pulse. 

“No pulse.” He said, his eyes wide. Your healthcare training kicked in, ready to drop to your knees and give CPR before you realized Steve had already started. His hands were perfectly positioned, giving chest compressions. 

“Oh my god.” The wife wailed, almost dropping to her knees. You steadied her, pulling her into your arms. 

“M’am don’t worry, EMS is coming, okay.” You spoke, watching people gather around. Airport employees have already made the call. 

“What’s his name?” You asked her, keeping her eyes on you. 

“Adam.” She cried out, clutching onto your sweater. 

“Come on, Adam,” Steve grunted, his hair falling onto his forehead.

You sat the wife down in a nearby chair, “It’s gonna be okay, EMS is on the way.” You assured her, a small crowd was gathering. You could see airport staff running over, calling in the incident. 

“Steve.” You spoke, and he looked up at you. His arms not stopping compressions. “They’re on their way.” 

All he could do was nod while you let his wife sob into your shoulder. When EMS came over, it was a blur, a short switch of Steve hopping off the man, and the paramedic taking over. 

His wife, Cindy, you learned, wouldn’t leave your side. You walked with her to the ambulance when they got him on the gurney. You even helped her shaky hands to call her son, helping explain what happened when she couldn’t calm down. You gave her son your number, telling him to call if they needed anything tonight. He thanked you endlessly. When Cindy was taken to the Hospital, following the ambulance, you got the chance to take a breath. 

The cool night air prickles your sweaty skin. Steve was the same, having shed his hoodie after the paramedics came. The two of you worked seamlessly beside each other, not able to talk until now. 

“So that was crazy.” He breathed out, a dry laugh escaping his throat. “Like holy shit.” 

“Dude.” You sighed, rubbing your face. “I’m like shaking.” 

“You okay?” He asked, wrapping his hands around your waist. You nodded, “Adrenaline, I think.” Your hands were draped around his neck.

“Hell of a drug.” His body was shaking much like yours was, your bodies pressed against each other. 

“How do you know CPR?” You asked. “I was a medical assistant in undergrad. Most people rarely do CPR correctly.” 

“Lifeguard for four years, and swim team.” He smirked. 

“Oh, of course,” You shook your head, “Bet you were prom king too.” 

His silence was all you needed for an answer, smirking at his bashful face. “Yeah, you little heartbreaker.”

You took a minute to admire him in his short sleeves, his muscles flexing from where they were wrapped around you. “Swim team. No wonder you’re jacked.” 

“M’ not jacked.” He huffed, “I barely work out anymore.” 

“See. You need to let people compliment you. You’re so hard on yourself.” You huffed alongside him, making him roll his eyes. “I’m thinking about your biceps wrapped around my neck, and you’re here huffing and puffing that you’re not a bodybuilder.” 

His eyes widened, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“That thing you just said. Bout my biceps?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yeah, sure you don’t.” His mouth went dry, his eyes stuck on your faux innocent smile. You looked up at him from your lashes. Your hands are messing with the hair on the back of his neck. 

“I’m just saying. You’re hot. S’also not the best time to admit you looked really hot saving that guy's life.” 

He could feel his body reacting before he could process it, the bulge in his sweatpants twitching against your thighs. 

“S’just the adrenaline. I’m sorry.” He mumbled shyly, all confidence out the window. 

You simply smiled, refusing to let him pull away. Holding him close to you outside the airport emergency exit. 

“I’m about to suggest something insane, and you’re free to say no. I don’t want you to feel weird about it.” You spoke before your mind could stop you. Your fingers toying nervously with his hair.

“What?” He asked, peering at you.

“In the international departures terminal, there’s a family bathroom. Passed it on my way in. It’s in the back corner, and international flights have been halted. And it’s nearly midnight…”

You let the words linger in the air, bracing yourself for his reaction. It took him a minute before he spoke, his face contorted in thought. 

“O-oh. You’re suggesting…” he trailed off. 

Fear took over you, your body going still. “God, I’m sorry. I never should have said anything.” 

“I didn’t say that.” He cut you off, “It’s not something you’d regret, right?” His eyes were soft, kind. Making sure you didn’t feel pressured. You shook your head, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“Not at all. I really, really want to.” You admitted, letting it sit in the air between you. 

He pulled you close, gnashing your lips together messily. Only long enough for you to part your mouth before he let you go, “Meet you there in 10?” 

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered, watching him turn around. Holding your hand until you made it back inside. He went to check on your bags, and you headed straight to the bathroom. You crossed your fingers, silently celebrating that the end of the hall was dead.

The bathroom was huge, with a toilet and a sink, two plush chairs, and a changing table counter in the corner. 

A knock on the door took you out of your thoughts, making you jump. You cracked it open to reveal Steve, who slid in easily. You felt like a teenager, all giddy to be breaking the rules. Steve Harrington made your heart race in a way you didn’t know it could. 

“Do you think it’s ethical to fuck on a changing counter?” You giggled, pointing to the counter on the back wall. It seemed to be the perfect height. 

Steve shrugged, reaching down to pick you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct, his lips attaching themselves to your neck. 

“Don’t care.” He grumbled, walking you backwards onto said counter. Setting you down gently, he stood between your legs. Your clothed hips brushing against each other. 

“I mean, it’s perfect.” You moaned, hands gripping the collar of his shirt while he sucked a noticeable bruise into the side of your neck. He felt like a teenager in heat, having the primal urge to mark you up. To mark you as his. 

“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with counter heights.” He teased, his hand crawling underneath your sweater. Cupping your tits through your bra. 

“M’not.” You sighed, “I think I’m just obsessed with you.” 

Your words only made his cock throb harder, helping you pull your shirt off. You leaned forward, letting him unclasp your bra, your hardened nipples perky in the chill air. 

“Fuck.” He groaned, both of his hands coming up to cup your chest. Thumbs immediately tweak the buds, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “You’re so sexy.” 

“Shirt off.” You grumbled, pulling his own shirt off his head. You were face-to-face with his toned, hairy chest, basically salivating at the sight. You ran your hand through it, trailing down his abs all the way to his happy trail. Letting your fingers slip into his waistband. 

Not before he could stop you, “Going too fast. Let me make you feel good.” He cooed. 

“Do we have time?” You asked, helping him slip your leggings down. 

He scoffed, “I’m sure. Unless we’re really unlucky, but you’re at least gonna cum before we leave this room.” 

“You’re unreal.” You giggled, letting him pepper kisses on your chest. He takes each swollen bud into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. “Fucking perfect tits.” 

“Oh, you have a dirty mouth.” You moaned, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable as he made his way down your torso. Leaving wet kisses and small bites on your flesh. 

“Oh yeah,” He groaned, “M’gonna show you just how dirty this mouth can get.” 

His fingers pulled your underwear down easily, falling to join your leggings on the floor.

“Been wanting to do this since you walked over, talking to yourself like a madwoman.” He groaned, his knees hitting the tile. 

“You’re insane.” You sighed, watching him. 

“No, we’re insane.” He grinned up at you, his face diving in between your legs. If he wasn’t holding your legs open, you were sure to slide off. The moment his warm tongue flattened itself over your clit you were convinced you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue swirled around your clit expertly, sucking and eating you out like a man starved. 

“Holy fucking shit.” You moaned, covering your mouth with your hand. If you had told yourself just a few hours ago you’d be getting eaten out by the hottest man you’ve ever seen in the airport bathroom, you wouldn’t have believed it. 

Now you were writhing out broken moans of his name, ready to cum all over his face. “Steve..” You breathed out, your hand combing through his perfect hair. Tugging at the roots. This only spurred him on, his nose nudging your clit with each thrust of his tongue. “You like that, huh? Dirty boy.” You sighed, only to be caught off guard by your orgasm approaching, “I’m gonna-” 

He never even came up for air, content to let you smother him while you came. Your legs were shaking as he licks you through it, only stopping when you beg. Pulling his head up to you by his hair. Gnashing your lips together. The taste of your release on his tongue had you moaning, hands fumbling to pull his pants down. 

Neither of you could wait any longer; the bulge in his boxers definitely couldn’t. You heard a slap when he pulled his boxers down, his cock slapping against that happy trail you’d definitely dream about. 

“Holy fuck.” 

“Oh fuck, I don’t have a condom.” He panicked, assuming that's what you were freaked out about. 

“I don’t care. I have an implant. Where have you been hiding that?” You pointed to his cock, which sat heavy between his legs. His tip was red and leaking with precum. If circumstances were different, you'd beg to wrap your mouth around him, feel him hot and heavy in your mouth. 

“Oh.” He blushed, wrapping a hand around his thick length. “Like what you see?” 

His confidence was coming back each moment you stared at him, your legs wrapping around his hips. “As much as I’d love to wrap my bicep around your neck and fuck the shit out of you,” He hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’d much rather watch your gorgeous face when you cum around my cock.” 

His words made you dizzy, melting into his touch. “Next time.” You mumbled, he nodded. Neither of you even registered whether there was going to be a next time. Too focused on the task at hand. 

“Need it inside of me, now.” You begged, watching him line himself up. Smacking himself on your swollen clit a few times, before pushing his tip inside your entrance. The stretch made you coo, grabbing his shoulders. 

“G-god, you’re so tight.” He whimpered, slowly pushing himself in. Inch by inch. 

“You’re just fucking huge.” You gasped, biting into his freckled shoulder. “Feel s’good.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head by the time his hips met yours, his cock piercing your womb. He gave you a second to adjust before he rolled his hips, dragging his cock out slowly before pushing back in. Taking your breath away each time. Not only could he eat pussy the way he did, but he fucked like a god. You were almost annoyed with how perfect he was if he wasn’t currently making your toes curl. 

“Can’t believe how good y’pussy feels.” He slurred, switching between kissing you hungrily and panting filthy words into your neck. His hips pounding into you loudly, skin slapping against skin, echoed throughout the room.

He was all over you, all you could taste, see, smell was him. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. It was fast, hot, and even messy. At one point, he leaned down, biting harshly at your bouncing tits. Making you squeal. 

“Steve.. Fuck.” You let out a guttural moan, no longer worried about being heard. You couldn’t be worried about anything other than the way his cock felt inside you. 

“You gonna cum?” He asked, steadying his feet. He bent your legs, spreading them open wide. Giving him the perfect view of your blissed out face, and his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt. 

“Keep fucking me like that.” You begged, falling back into the wall as both of his hands held your legs. 

“Wouldn’t dream of stopping.” He winked, making you laugh before it turned into a choked moan. 

“Close.” You spoke through gritted teeth, watching him lean down, spitting onto your cunt. Never once stopping his movements. 

“Touch yourself, baby.” He ordered, his voice hoarse. He was just as close. You obliged, his hands too busy keeping you in the position that had him rubbing against the spot inside of you that was ready to burst. The moment your fingertips found your swollen clit, you were gone. Each messy swirl of your fingers had you falling apart, barely able to choke out anything other than his name. 

“Can feel you,” He huffed, shaking his hair out of his face, “You gonna cum? Need to feel you cum, baby. You look so fucking sexy. Wanna make you cum every fucking day.”  

“God, yes.” You let go, your legs thrashing against his hold as you came around him. A choked moan leaves his lips as your cunt suckles him in deep, squeezing around him, soaking him completely. 

“There you go.” He nearly sobbed, folding your legs deeper. His hips stutter with each sloppy drag of him. “Gonna cum.” He spoke as a warning, your jaw lax watching him. His brown eyes were glossy, his skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat. 

“Inside.” You whined, and he immediately obliged. Emptying his cum deep inside of you, muttering your name over and over like a holy vow. You were the only god he could believe in, ready to crawl on his knees through hot ash to see your blissed-out eyes look at him every day the way they were right now. 

He slipped himself out of you, helping you sit up straight, sure your body was cramping from the weird position you were in. You didn’t care, your body tingling all over. 

“You okay?” He mumbled against your temple, holding your sweaty body against his. All you could do was nod, a short burst of giggles leaving your mouth. You could feel his cum sliding down your legs.

“Where’d you learn to fuck like that?” You asked rhetorically, making his chest rumble with laughter. 

“Let me clean you up.” He departed with a gentle kiss, walking to the sink to wet some paper towels for you.

You watched him as he walked. Smirking softly at his bare ass. Your release pooled around the base of his cock, wetting the tuff of hair there. It took everything in you not to drop to your knees, sucking him clean. 

He came back and cleaned you up as best he could, given the circumstances. He helped you dress on shaky legs, which he loved poking fun at. But mostly, he was just proud he was the cause of them. 

“So…” You started, making him smirk at you. “Dinner? I’m fucking starving.” 

“God, yes.” He laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walked out. The terminal was still dead empty, the loud sound of the baggage claim drowning out any noises that could have slipped out of the bathroom. 

You two ended up in the booth of a random quick stop location, splitting a box of greasy pizza and sipping on cheap beer. You were across from each other, your feet resting on his lap across the table. 

“So, what are your Christmas plans? You already moved in?” He asked, picking a piece of pepperoni off his slice and popping it into his mouth. 

“Yes, and no. My sister is at my apartment now, she drove my car and cat up there.” You admitted, “I had a work thing and couldn’t, so she offered. I paid for her flight home in exchange. Movers did the rest. So we’re gonna probably get drunk and go to the Christmas market. What about you?” 

“Not gonna let you mention a cat and not show me a picture,” He pointed, “But Robin and her girlfriend planned this huge dinner. A lot of our friends are coming into town to do the same. Maybe we’ll cross paths at the market.” 

Your head swam at the idea of meeting his friends, already picturing the two of you holding hands and walking through the booths. You didn’t know what was going to happen after this, and you didn’t want to know. Not now, you didn’t wanna spoil the moment. 

“This is my cat, her name is Chai.” You showed him the photo of the black and orange calico. She was lying against your chest in the photo. He cooed. 

“Oh, little chai. I need to meet her.” 

“Are you trying to father my daughter already?” You teased, and he threw his hands up. 

“Guilty.” He laughed, “I’m the father that stepped up.” His weak joke only made you laugh harder; surely your cheeks were going to be sore by tomorrow with all the laughter. 

Sleeping arrangements were what you were dreading the most; half the hotels were overpriced or already booked by the time you looked. So it seemed useless; the two of you had already committed to this sleepover. This was how you two ended up bundled underneath airport blankets and pillows on the floor, your head curled into his chest. 

He watched your eyes flutter closed, your breathing mellow into a gentle rhythm. All he could think about was how utterly fucked he was. He’d never felt this way about a girl before, especially not so soon. He stayed awake for hours, dreading the inevitable sunrise that would tear them apart. In the meantime, he listened to your breathing, letting it lull him to sleep. 

He woke first, your head still in the exact spot it was when you went to bed. Your mouth was parted, toeing the line between sleeping and being awake. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” All he got in response was a muffled groan. 

“Breakfast?” He yawned, smoothing down your bedhead. “There’s some overpriced breakfast bowl with my name on it.” 

“Want a smoothie.” You grumbled, not wanting to move from where you were tangled together. Kept warm by a thin airline blanket and his jean jacket wrapped around your shoulders. 

“I can get you one. Just gotta let me up.” He whispered, your head immediately shaking no. “Come on, sweet girl, I’ll be back in no time.” 

You reluctantly let him get up, leaving you to curl up into his hoodie when he left. It wasn’t long before he came back, food in tow. You sat up, the two of you eating in comfortable silence. 

“Have you ever thought about being a paramedic?” You asked, stealing one of his hashbrowns. He paid no mind, simply shrugging. 

“No, I mean to be honest, yesterday was the only time I’ve used it on someone that wasn’t near a pool.” 

“You were a natural. I mean, you didn’t hesitate at all. Just jumped right in. You were so kind to Cindy, too.” You paused before adding, “The adrenaline rush is always nice too.” 

“Knew you were gonna get nasty there.” He rolled his eyes, stealing a drink of your smoothie. To any onlooker, they’d probably think you had been dating for years. Not that just the day prior, you were complete strangers. 

As much as Steve brushed it off, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The idea of being the first responder, being able to help people in their time of need. It called to him in a way that he couldn’t quite name yet. For most of his life, he had never really known what he wanted, only what felt expected of him. 

He had moved forward without direction, choosing what was safe instead of what felt right. But now, for the first time, he was following his heart, and that decision pointed him toward Chicago. Toward you. It felt like the beginning of a new life, like pieces of himself were finally lining up after years of being scattered.

After breakfast, the two of you parted ways, only long enough to wash up and change. Meeting back up at the designated ‘fort’ you both began calling it. You both still had about eight hours before your flight took off, but the hours seemed to roll by. Faster than either of you wanted them to. All your worries about Christmas plans seemed to fly out of the window. 

“So, is this date technically still ongoing?” You asked, a bag in your hand. This made Steve smile, with a similar bag in his own. 

“Contractually, until our plane lands in Chicago, we are still on a date. So yes.” 

“Good,” You smiled, holding out the bag. “Merry Christmas.” 

He held out a similar bag, “Merry Christmas to you too, Y/n.” 

“Great minds think alike.” You both sat down on the row of chairs, each of you opening your gift shop bags. Steve opened his first, pulling out a plane-shaped keychain with the airport's name on it. 

“So you never forget the longest and best date of your life.” 

“As if I could anyway.” He beamed, holding the keychain close to his chest. “Thank you.” 

Your heart felt giddy, ripping into your own bag. Inside was a box containing a necklace; on the end of it was a dainty airplane pendant. You nearly burst into tears, holding the delicate jewelry in your hands. 

“Steve…” You whispered, “I can’t accept this, you’ve already spent so much-” 

“Shhhh.” He stopped you, placing a hand on your knee. “I want you to have a piece of me close to your heart.” 

You sniffled, pulling your hair to the side, “Help me put it on.” He moved behind you, placing the necklace gently around your neck, pressing a kiss to the skin after he clasped it. 

“I love it. It’s beautiful. So beautiful.” You said, wrapping your arms around him. Breathing him in deeply when he hugged you tight. The two of you stayed like that for a while before you pulled away. 

“We have about 3 hours left. What’s left on the agenda?” He asked, making you hum. 

“What if we got a drink at the bar, and people watched. It’s what I do on my own.” You shrugged. 

He clicked his mouth, grabbing your hand. “Sounds like a plan.” 

Four mixed drinks later and making up backstories for over a dozen people, the minutes were ticking by. You caught yourself memorizing the sound of his laugh, the way it startled out of him when you surprised him, the way he leaned closer without thinking. Your flight was finally back up on the call board, your leg bouncing anxiously. It only made sense that the two of you gravitated back towards your spot, both of you saying meek goodbyes to the corner you called home for the past 24 hours. 

“Well, we board in 30 minutes. Our rows are only a few apart. Immediately after we meet up?” He asked, running his hands through his hair nervously. Unwanting this day to ever end. 

“Of course.” You nodded, the two of you clinging to each other until the last possible moment. Steve tried to haggle with an older gentleman to switch seats with him, losing terribly. This only made you laugh, which only annoyed the man even more. Your hand kept reaching up to the necklace around your neck, rolling the small charm between your fingers, grounding yourself as panic and excitement tangled together.

As soon as the plane landed, embarrassingly, you and Steve were some of the first to stand. A blush creeping up both of your necks at getting caught, too eager to see each other again. You wondered if this was what people meant when they said love made you stupid. If this were the love that would have you running headfirst, not caring if it hurt. 

“How was the flight?” He sneaked up on you, grabbing your bag off the conveyor before you even had the chance to grab it. 

“Jesus.” You squealed, jumping into his arms. “Scared me.” 

“Missed you.” He admitted, holding you close. 

“I did too.” You frowned, unwilling to think about what would happen when the two of you went your separate ways. You had known him for a day, yet the thought of leaving already felt like a loss. “My sister called me a car, it’s already here.” 

You could see him deflate; you saw it in his eyes. You thought you’d have more time. 

“I’ll walk you out? Ride share is different from where Robin is picking me up.” You nodded, holding his free hand in yours. 

“I think I’d love Robin.” You admitted, the two of you pausing on the sidewalk. The snow-covered ground crunches beneath your feet. 

“I think she’d love you. You guys would gang up on me, I’d never get a break.” 

“Good.” You smiled, rubbing your thumb against his palm. 

“Yeah, I think it would be good.” He smiled, both of you stalling. 

“Okay. I’m gonna say something admittedly insane.” You huffed, deja vu hitting you at once, “I don’t think you have to know someone for years to really know them. Like, truly know them. Because you’ve seen me the past day in ways that no one ever has before. And all it took was a look. It scared me. Scared me to my core. It almost feels like we aren’t strangers, like we’ve always known each other.” 

“And this may sound even more insane, but I don’t think you need to have years with someone to love them either. Sometimes it just happens when we aren’t expecting it. Maybe when we don’t even want it to happen, because the future isn’t promised. But it happens anyway, because how could it not?” 

“Like, do you know how many things needed to align tonight for us to meet? And they all did. I know real life isn’t like the movies, but…” You breathed out, Steve’s face softening at your words. “What I mean to say is….” You huffed, chickening out at the last possible second, “Have a good Christmas?” 

He let out an awkward laugh at your words, both of you speechless. “I agree, life isn’t like the movies.” He started, “It’s so much better. It’s real, it’s tangible. I can’t explain just how much the past day has meant to me. To be heard, to feel…. wanted.” 

“And yeah, life is complicated and messy. But that’s part of being human. I’ve never felt as human as I have today. I feel like something in me shifted, like I’m stepping into my own life instead of watching it pass me by. You made me see things about myself today that I wouldn't have before. I’ve felt things today I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling.” He admitted, his cheeks going red from the cold,  “I want to see you again. I want you. God, it’s all I want.” 

You never believed in true love. Not the kind that arrived without warning and rewired your chest in a single day. Love, to you, had always been something that grew slowly, carefully, with time as proof. A slow-growing plant in the corner of a room, taking its time to bloom. Yet here you were, standing across from Steve, feeling something reckless bloom anyway in your chest. Something that felt a lot like love. Something that can be nurtured into something beautiful.

Steve leaped, a leap he should have taken long ago, too scared before, too unwilling to let something this fragile slip through his grasp. He refused to let you walk away like in the movies. He chose to put everything on the line, to reach for something fleeting and honest before it could disappear.

“Hey,” You stopped, grabbing him by the arm. So much has happened in the past few hours, it felt like days had passed since you first saw him huddled up in that corner. “When you’re back in Chicago. Find me. Wine and dine me like you didn’t get the chance to.” 

He paused, a smirk wide on his face. When you turned on your heel, ready to walk away, you were stopped. His hand tight over your hand. “This isn’t a romantic comedy.” 

“It was a romantic drama.” 

“This isn’t a romantic drama.” He corrected, his cheeks aching from how wide his smile was. “Now I would sulk through the streets of Chicago for years for you, but I’d rather not waste any time. So, can I please have your phone number?” 

“I was just waiting for you to ask.” You admitted, grabbing his phone and texting yourself. “Fall in love with the city, and maybe stay?” 

“I feel like I’m gonna fall in love with more than just the city.” He admitted, your brows softening in realization at his words. 

You pulled him in for one last kiss, putting all of your heart into it. “Don’t take too long to text me.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” He yelled, never once taking his eyes off of you until you were in your car, waving frantically as the driver took you into the heart of the city. 

The moment his feet landed on the sidewalk, he was clicking on Robin’s contact photo, so quickly his fingers were shaking. She answered on the first ring, a confused “Hello?” 

“I just landed.” He got out quickly, jogging back to the baggage claim. “You’ll never guess what happened.” 

“I’m literally in the pickup waiting for you,” She sighed, watching Vickie stifle a laugh, “Can this not wait five minutes?” 

“No,” He breathed out, “I’m moving to Chicago. After New Year's, I’m gonna enroll in EMT courses, I think? Of course, I need to do some research, and I might have to crash in your spare room for a few months. I also think I found the love of my life?”

It always went the same way. You’d arrive to the camp, endure the awkward introductions, play a few forced team-bonding games before retreating to the wooden cabin that would house you for the next five weeks. 

Then dinner. Conversations melting into laughter, smoke, and the pop of firewood. And finally, slouching grumpily into the rock-hard mattress, listening to the soft breathing of half-strangers as the night swallowed the camp whole.

It was a good way to get to know people from school, to make friends— or at least people who felt like friends for a short while. Because when the summer ended, so did the closeness. 

The promises to “hang out soon” faded into forgotten calls and distant waves in crowded hallways. But for those five weeks, it was enough.

At least, it used to be.

This year, you told yourself you weren’t going back. You’d said it before, muttered it under your breath when the first flyer appeared on the bulletin board at school. But this time, you meant it. Because five weeks was a long time to spend pretending you didn’t care.

It wasn’t the bus ride that made your stomach twist, or the mosquitoes, or the sleepless nights on lumpy mattresses. It was him.

Steve Harrington.

You could still hear the echo of laughter that wasn’t yours bouncing off the cabin walls, see the way everyone’s eyes turned when he said your name. 

The heat of humiliation burned brighter than the bonfire that night, and no amount of pretending could scrub it clean. He’d smiled, that sharp, smug curve that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and you’d laughed too, because what else could you do?

You’d spent the rest of the summer trying to disappear. Keeping your head down at meals, skipping out on games, pretending you had a headache just to stay in the cabin when everyone else went swimming. And when camp ended, you’d promised yourself you’d never go back.

But now, begrudgingly, your head rests against the cool glass of the bus window. The walkman by your side hums a mix of Crowded House songs— your only ally for the next five weeks. The soft crackle of tape between tracks feels almost comforting, a small, private sound in the chaos.

The bus reeks of sweat and the damp cling of summer heat. The unmistakable scent of too many teenagers packed into one space, loud and restless.

You’ve claimed a seat near the front, far from the noise, far from them. You don’t want to submit yourself to the constant laughter, the inside jokes, the hollers echoing from the back. 

But even here, their voices bleed through the music, cutting over “Don’t Dream It’s Over.”

Steve’s laugh is unmistakable. It’s sharp, confident, infuriating. You tense before you even realize it, jaw tightening as another burst of noise ripples through the bus.

All you want to do is slam your head against the glass a few times. Just enough to drown out the sound, to knock loose the dread sitting in your stomach. Anything to make this trip end faster, to skip the part where the real misery begins.

Four and a half hours on the bus, and you’re finally there.

Everyone spills out hazily, legs stiff, voices rising, busy trying to yank their bags from the compartments underneath. No one’s really paying attention. But you notice.

The usual bright faces and over-enthusiastic greetings aren’t there. Tom and Sheila—  the youth counsellors who always waited by the wooden sign that read Camp Haven in crackly, hand-painted letters are missing. No welcome smiles. No cheesy clipboard check-ins.

Just the creak of trees and the low hum of the bus engine still idling behind you.

Before the thought can settle, there’s a sharp thump. A heavy slam against your back.

You turn to see your bag lying at your feet, a smear of dirt staining the fabric. Standing behind it, smirk in place, is none other than King Steve himself.

You flip him off without hesitation, turning away. But of course, he takes that as an invitation.

“You know, most people would say thank you.”

His voice has that same smug lilt that makes your skin crawl.

“I didn’t ask you to get my bag for me, I don’t need your help.”

Your tone is flat, eyes fixed anywhere but his.

“It’s a kind gesture— what can I say? I’m just a kind guy.”

You look at him then, one brow raised.

“Didn’t you punch Braeden in the face last year? Doesn’t sound kind to me.”

He opens his mouth, fumbling.

“He was— he was, uh— being a dick.”

That makes you laugh, short and sharp.

“Right.”

A beat passes. The sound of cicadas hums faintly through the trees, the kind of sound that would usually mean summer. Now it just feels… too loud.

Steve glances around, frowning.

“Huh. That’s weird. Where’s Tom and Sheila?”

You snort.

“Wow, Harrington. Great attention to detail! Another gold star to your name.”

“I’m serious. Where are they?”

“Why are you asking me like I’d know? I don’t run this camp. Can you not talk to me?”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, but his gaze lingers a moment longer before he steps back, walking toward his friends. The friends who are now loudly betting on who can hold a handstand the longest.

You exhale, unclenching your fists before you even realize you’d been holding them tight.

It pisses you off. The way he can just exist like that. How he can ruin an entire summer and still act like it never happened.

You adjust the strap on your bag and glance around again. The parking lot feels wrong, too still, too empty. No counselors shouting names, no clipboards, no chatter of organization. Just the sound of sneakers scuffing gravel and the occasional thud of luggage being dropped.

Then, without warning, the bus engines rev.

The drivers exchange a few glances, and before anyone can ask why, they begin to pull away. Wheels crunching over dirt, exhaust clouding the air.

A few campers shout after them, half-laughing like it’s a joke. But the laughter fades as the taillights vanish down the road, swallowed by trees.

Now it’s just you.

And forty-something kids standing in front of an empty camp.

The wind shifts through the pines, carrying the faint creak of a loose sign swinging overhead: Welcome to Camp Haven.

But for some reason, it doesn’t feel welcoming at all.

For a moment no one says anything The air feels thick, humid and sticky, like it always does when you first step off the bus.

Someone in the crowd pipes up, half-laughing,

“Where are the babysitters? Thought they’d be yelling at us to line up by now.”

A few others chuckle, grateful for something to break the stillness.

Steve glances around and shrugs, slipping easily back into his usual confidence.

“Maybe they decided to give us some freedom this year. Y’know, trust the seniors to handle ourselves for once.”

There’s a lightness to his tone— forced maybe, but no one seems to notice. A couple of kids nod like that makes perfect sense, and someone even whistles low, muttering about how finally the counselors are easing up.

You just roll your eyes. Typical. Leave it to Steve to make being unsupervised sound like some kind of privilege.

Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you start trudging down the path toward the main area, the cabins, the firepit, the dining hall. The gravel crunches under your sneakers, the same sound you’ve heard every summer since you were thirteen.

Behind you, the rest of the group follows, still talking, still laughing. The noise swelling back to its usual chaos.

It almost feels like every other year.

Almost.

Five weeks of this. You tell yourself you’ll survive it.

You always do.

The main area feels even starker than the entrance. A few papers flutter in the wind. Birds call from the treetops, leaves rustle.

Other than that, there’s no one. Just you.

You turn, eyes scanning every corner, every log building— empty.

“Freaky.”

A voice, barely above a whisper. Avery.

Another ‘outcast’ like you. She’s in your math class, sits near the back, and always falls asleep during lessons.

“Maybe they’re just late?”

You force a small smile, glancing toward the crowd behind you. For some reason, they’ve all stopped before catching up, leaving you standing alone at the front, like you’re about to give a speech.

Maybe, in this moment, that’s exactly what needs to happen.

“Uh, guys—” 

Your voice is small, almost swallowed by the chatter.

“Guys!” 

You try again, louder. Nothing.

“Everyone shut up!”

Steve roars, and of course, the group immediately obeys. You glare at him, nodding slightly in acknowledgment of his effortless command.

“I think they might just be late,” 

You say. 

“Maybe we should all just group up and go to a cabin.”

“Who appointed you leader, princess?” Steve calls, making the others laugh.

“Don’t you think maybe setting our stuff down and getting a bit of rest is better than waiting for Rod”— the main counselor “-to get here?”

Steve smirks. 

“Just because you’re student council president doesn’t mean you can boss us around.”

You bite back a retort, exhale, and try again. 

“If you want to look for Rod or Tom or Sheila be my guest. I think it’s a better use of our time to wind down and wait for them. That’s what I’ll be doing.”

You drop your bag to the ground, huffing quietly, watching the others trickle toward cabins, half-listening, half-following Steve’s lead.

↟ 𓆱 ⛰︎ ོ 🂭 ᯓ 𐂂 

Cabin 4 has always been your favorite, so considering this year no one’s been assigned cabins, you opt for it without hesitation.

You drop your bag with a sigh, letting the temporary relief from the bus and the crowd wash over you. The floorboards creak faintly beneath your feet.

As you unpack, your eyes keep flicking to your watch. Routine, almost ritual. Waiting for Rod’s voice to boom across the camp, calling everyone to meet at the fire pit.

One hour passes. Nothing.

Two hours. Still nothing.

By the third, the unease starts to creep in, but you shove it down, telling yourself it’s fine. You change clothes, the simple act marking time, until you don’t even notice the door opening.

“Oh—fuck! Sorry.”

The voice is familiar, smugly oblivious, and it makes your stomach drop.

You spin around, half-undressed, shirt dangling from one shoulder.

“Harrington? What the fuck!”

You cover yourself, scowling, glaring daggers at the fumbling boy now frozen in the doorway.

“I— uh, I just—”

“Get out!” 

You scream, shoving him toward the door with one hand, chest burning.

After a few moments of embarrassment, you flop onto your bed, groaning, hands dragging down your face in frustration. A knock follows.

“Are you—…”

“Yes, I’m decent, what the fuck is it?”

“I’m… uh, sorry. I just wanted to say we’re gonna start a fire, so, y’know, if you want to come…”

“Where’s Rod?”

“We couldn’t find him. Figured they might get here tomorrow.”

You scoff.

“So hopeful, Harrington. And what exactly are we going to eat for dinner?”

His expression falters, just a little, and your eyes narrow.

“What? You didn’t think about that? God Steve you’re getting dumber by the minute.”

You pull a coat around your shoulders, standing, and gesture toward the cafeteria.

“Come on.”

He follows without a word, smirking faintly, clearly enjoying every second of your annoyance.

The cafeteria is surprisingly intact. Stacks of ingredients still sitting on shelves, fresh enough to work with. You glance over the possibilities and immediately decide on stew. Easy, hearty, and enough to feed everyone.

“Go get some people to help” 

You bark at Steve, who tilts his head with an amused grin.

He rolls his eyes but starts calling out to a few of his friends, who come reluctantly, suspiciously curious why they’re cooking under your orders. You assign tasks, chopping vegetables, stirring the pot, making sure no one screws it up.

After what feels like too long, the stew bubbles on the stove, the smell filling the room and spilling out into the air. You ladle it into bowls, serving the group as everyone gravitates toward the fire pit outside.

Night falls, stars cutting through the canopy above. Everyone eats, the stew disappearing quickly, murmurs of surprise at how decent it tastes.

Then the cheering starts.

Booming from nowhere, loud music rattles through the trees. A boombox blaring “Footloose” or something equally absurd. Laughter erupts.

You glance toward the cafeteria, where two of Steve’s friends are passing around bottles of something strong, stolen from the pantry.

“What the fuck?” 

You hiss, eyes narrowing.

Steve strolls up beside you, that same lazy grin plastered on his face.

“It is the first night— and there are no adults around. We should enjoy it while it lasts.”

Before you can tell him how bad of an idea this is, he’s already running up to Jack and Ruthie grabbing a can of beer out of their hands.

The campsite, quiet just seconds ago except for murmurs and the crackle of the fire, is now a riot. Yelling, cheering, and music blare above everything else.

Every space seems to be flooded with campers, vodka in hand, flopping and stumbling over one another as if gravity had become optional.

“Oh my god.”

You mutter under your breath, sidestepping a boy who nearly trips over your foot. You scurry away from the noise, thinking you’ve found a patch of calm, until a mop of curls suddenly startles you.

You jump, heart in your throat, before realizing the boy has his hands raised, grinning.

“Shit—sorry. Didn’t realize anyone would be this far out.”

He drops onto a log overlooking the lake, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie. You notice immediately that he’s the only sober one here. He rolls a blunt with careful, deliberate movements that make you laugh despite yourself.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

You drop down beside him, letting the smoke curl up into the night sky.

“I’m Eddie”

He says, you already know. Eddie, who has a reputation despite himself for failing senior year three times.

You rattle off your own name before he lights the blunt and takes a slow hit, offering it to you. You take it. Something to calm you down, you tell yourself.

After a long drag and a moment of silence, he speaks

“You don’t think they’re coming.”

Not a question. A statement. Like he can read you, even though this is the first time you’ve met.

“I know they’re not coming”

You admit, rambling before he can respond.

“And everyone here is acting normal, like it’s not really fucking weird that we were dropped off with no supervision— don’t you think that’s off?”

“No, I do. I just don’t like to speak up”

He says, taking another hit.

“I’ve noticed.”

He gives you a look that makes your cheeks heat.

“Not in like a— it’s just… you don’t talk much. Off topic.”

He chuckles softly at your nervous rambling before he speaks, smoke curling around his words.

“So… what are we going to do?”

“We need to find a phone” 

You say, exhaling slowly. 

“There’s one in the office, I think. Tomorrow, we can call… uh, I don’t know who we should call yet.”

“The school?”

You shrug.

“Maybe. Or a parent. Whoever.”

Eddie turns his head to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You want to go get a drink? It’s a good way to pass time.”

He winks, eyebrows wiggling. You groan before giving in. You can’t tell if it’s the haze of being slightly high, or the fact that his smirk is just that infuriatingly charming.

The two of you weave through the cluster of campers. Ruthie— who is still doling out drinks pauses when you step up, giving you a questioning look.

“If I give you this, you have to promise not to narc on us tomorrow”

“Give me the fucking glass, Ruthie.”

“Okay— okay, jeez.”

Eddie chuckles at your exchange. You both take a swig at the same time, gagging at the bitter mix of juice and alcohol. Still, you keep drinking.

The night swells around you: cheers, smoke curling into the midnight air, the smell of fire, and the soft thumps of music from someone’s boombox. 

The drinks get stronger, shifting from fruity to fiery. Soon, you and Eddie are staggering in a loose circle, laughter echoing like some chaotic ritual.

A familiar, infuriating voice cuts through the haze.

“Hey!”

You glance up. Steve. Of course. Two girls cling to either side of him, and he’s grinning like he owns the night. You groan, stumbling toward the fire pit anyway.

“Didn’t know you liked to have fun, princess”

He says, brushing a hand against the blonde’s thigh.

“Stop calling me that” 

You snap, rolling your eyes.

“Come join us, we’re playing truth or dare.”

“What are we in middle school?”

“Don’t be boring.”

For some reason, despite yourself, you find yourself sitting down. Squashed between Eddie and a girl with a shaggy bob and blunt bangs. Robin you think her name is.

The game starts with stupid, half-silly truths and dares. People shout over the music and laughter:

“Truth: who was your first crush?”

“Dare: chug that can of beer”

“Truth: who here would you never date?”

You sink a little lower in your seat, keeping one eye on Steve, one on Eddie, as the questions and dares fly. The alcohol buzz makes it harder to care, harder to resist laughing at some of the ridiculous dares.

“Your turn princess.”

Steve’s voice calls out

“Truth.”

Everyone in the circle boos, steve included

“You’re so boring— do you ever pick dare?”

He says

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Good one.”

He smirks back at you, under his gaze it feels like you almost snap

“Fine, give me a dare Harrington.”

“I dare you to go swim in the lake.”

You chuckle because that is stupid and definitely not serious. But his gaze tightens on you

“Dude— it’s like pitch black out there.”

“She’s right, cold water shock too.”

Robin next to you calls out backing you up, but Steve’s eyebrow only raises, he’s only egging you on more, and it’s working.

“Thought you didn’t like losing princess.”

“If you’re referencing me losing my life from drowning then yeah pretty much.”

 He scoffs, his gaze unraveling you even more. You feel like you’re about to burst. And maybe you do because before you can even think your standing up and marching towards the dock.

The group around the campfire shifts.  Following you with a mix of concerned mutters and cheers.

Eddie fumbles next to you, voice breaking through the noise. Pleading to kick some sense into you.

“I- I really don’t think you should do that— the forfeit won’t be too bad. Definitely not worse than this”

“I’m not letting that dickhead win.”

Everything with Harrington is a competition, and once again, your determined to win

You shrug off your jacket before fumbling to slide out of your jeans. A few whistles break the air at the sight of you in only your t-shirt and underwear. 

Steve’s face goes flushed, and something unreadable flickers in his eyes. But you only smirk at him, just to twist the knife before turning back to the water.

It’s pitch black beneath you, a mirror of the midnight sky.

Two minutes, you tell yourself

Jump in, jump out. Easy

You take a big deep breath, steadying yourself before launching your body into the water. There’s a splash, a chorus of gasps, Eddie yelling something. But all of it drowns under the sound of water swallowing you whole.

Oh fuck it’s cold. Colder than you expected, colder than anything you’ve ever felt

You kick, pushing toward what you think is the surface, but everything blurs into one endless shadow. It’s darker now— too dark and it feels like every time you move, you’re only sinking deeper.

And when you realize that, panic hits.

Your arms flail, desperate for something, anything. But there’s only water, pressing in from all sides.

Outside the group emerges into chatter, a couple of ‘What the fucks’ and ‘I can’t believe she did that’. But then the footsteps fade. People loose interest

But not Steve.

He shrugs off the girls that are by his side to go and peer over the edge where Eddie is standing. Where Robin is standing too. And even though you don’t know the girl, she felt like it was common decency to be standing there to help get you out.

But when you don’t get out, they exchange concerned glances.

“Is she..?”

Robin mutters, eyeing eddie who only shrugs, too high to process the situation that is now unfolding. But Steve notices it immediately. 

He dives.

Cold water swallows him, but he doesn’t stop. He spots you, still, sinking and grabs your waist, pulling you up toward the surface, toward air, toward shore.

“I’ve got you— you’re okay princess.”

His voice cuts through your coughing and gasping. The world tilts and spins as he drags you onto the rocky ground.

“Hey, your okay.”

Eddie and Robin appear, wrapping your jacket around you as you shake and tremble. You turn away just in time to throw up, a mix of lake water, alcohol, and regret.

The next couple of moments are a blur. Steve handing you over to Robin and Eddie, the two of them leading you back to your cabin. And your confused thoughts circling around one single question:

Why the hell is Steve being nice to you?

↟ 𓆱 ⛰︎ ོ 🂭 ᯓ 𐂂 

The next thing you know, you’re in your cabin bed. The morning sunlight cutting through the cabin blinds. Your head pounds, your throat feels dry and your body aches.  The memory of the night before all blended into one. 

You groan, hand pressed to your forehead. Beside you a body stirs. Eddie, his faced buried into the pillow

Okay what the fuck happened last night.

“Eddie?”

You groan out, voice still harsh and dry

“Hi”

He hums, ducking his face into the pillow in front of him, you just blink confused

“Uh— we didn’t”

You gesture to the air— clearly meaning ‘we didn’t hookup did we?’

“-Did we?”

Even though his eyes are shut, he gets the memo immediately darting up

“What no!— princess I’m— I’m gay.”

That also has you darting up, because this is news to you. Eddie is a decently good looking guy, and personally— you would do it so you wouldn’t have been surprised if drunk and almost-died you wanted to get him into your bed.  

“Really?”

You’re smiling now because how didn’t you catch onto that. He nods

“Me too”

Says another voice. Robins head hangs over the top bunk, hair a mess, grin lazy

“You guys are open with that huh?”

They both nod, you groan

“What time is it?”

You ask, your watch is stuck in place from your almost time of death yesterday— water damage or something you think

“Eleven thirty two”

“So Rod isn’t here.”

“Rod isn’t here.”

Eddie repeats, sitting up

Your already pulling on a hoodie and lacing up your boots

“Wait where are you going?”

Eddie is now scrambling up, along with Robin who fumbles off of the bunkbed with not so much ease. 

“To the office. We need to call someone to come and get us.”

“I second that.”

Robin hums in agreement, slipping into her slides. Eddie scrambles after you just to avoid being left alone

The campsite is a complete disaster when you exit your cabin. Logs posed as benches flipped over, beer cans and smashed glass everywhere. Empty bags of candy stuck to the dirt. The air still reeks of smoke and booze.

The office is empty— which isn’t surprising considering you didn’t think you would see Sheila or Tom in there anyways. 

You grab the phone, dial your mom’s number. It rings.

No answer.

Robin tries next.

“It’s still ringing” 

She says, voice dropping. 

“No one’s picking up.”

“Should we call 911 or do you think that’s a step too far ahead.”

Eddie calls out from the corner, where he’s  anxiously snooping through the drawers

You reach for the phone, dialling the very simple 911 buttons. Nothing.

No one answers. It’s like the lines been cut

“Okay so what do we do now?”

Robin starts to hyperventilate

“Hey, chill out or I swear I’ll throw up,” 

Eddie mutters, voice shaky.

You force yourself to breathe.

“There’s gotta be SOS phones on the road. Or maybe a gas station. We can walk until we find one.”

You speak, trying to regulate your rising breaths. Trying to tell yourself that’s it’s fine and it will be okay

“How far do you think that is?”

“Thirty minutes, tops”

You say, hoping you sound more confident than you feel.

Robin groans.

“Can’t wait.”

“I’m gonna go get Steve.”

They both exchange a look

“What? I hate to admit it but people listen to him.”

“So have you guys fucked yet or no?”

Robin teases, which elicits a gasp out of you

“Ew what? How low do you think of me.”

“I’m just saying— he did save your life yesterday, and your first thought when everything might very may well be going to shit is ‘Wait! let me find Harrington’”

You roll your eyes and storm off before she can say anything else. You didn’t want to hook up with Harrington, that was actually the furthest thing you wanted to do. You wanted to thank him for saving your life but fucking him? You would rather die.

You knock on cabin eight. Once. Twice. No answer. So you fling open the door.

Steve’s sprawled in bed, half-naked, with a girl with auburn hair beside him.

“Harrington get the fuck up,”

You jostle his body around before roughly slapping him on the arm which still doesn’t work. He only groans, rolling over.

“Ruthie? Fuck off—“

He’s clearly still delirious and hanging on the very loose threads of sleep

“It’s me. Steve get up. It’s important.”

His eyes fly open, and he’s quickly yanking the blanket to covers his bare chest

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Steve, get changed. It’s important— like really.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just— kinda naked, so—”

You step outside. It takes him two minutes to stumble out in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants.

When he exits the cabin, you chuckle at his bed head, completely forgetting the situation you’re in, savouring these small moments of laughter you have left

“What?” 

He says, rubbing his eyes and running through his hair with his hand one. 

“You woke me up like four minutes ago.”

“Follow me”

You ignore what he last said, bringing your focus to the situation ahead. 

Robin and Eddie wait for you at the entrance of the camp, you and steve trudge across the dirt before meeting them there.

“Okay, here’s the thing, Harrington,” 

You start, hands on your hips. 

“Rod’s not here. Sheila, Tom, Jenny, Aila, Quinn— none of them are. And the phones? They keep on ringing No one’s answering.”

“Did you try 911?”

Steve asks, still somewhat unbelieving 

“Yes Steve and still no one answered. Not even on fucking 911”

“Okay”

Steve blinks, the sleep fading from his face. Robin cuts in

“We’re going to try and find a gas station… hitch hike maybe? If cars come by.

The hitchhiking part was news to you, but sounded somewhat promising.

The four of you all agreed on walking maximum for an hour. 

The road winds endlessly ahead. The four of you walk single file, hugging the edge in case a car appears. But thirty minutes pass, and there’s nothing. Not a single car.

Which could just be a coincidence considering the camp was slightly in the middle of nowhere. But still was slightly odd

“Wait do you guys see that?”

Robin calls out

“Don’t mess with me” 

Eddie groans. 

“What’s it called when you see stuff in the desert—a moge?”

“-Mirage.” Steve says

“And that’s definitely a gas station.”

Hope sparks into your body, it feels like a new wave of energy hits you and your practically speed walking

“Are you serious.”

You say, grinning when you finally catch sight of the small building

When you reach it, you don’t immediately see anyone. The doors are open— so it’s clearly not closed

“Hello?”

You call out as you step inside.

No one answers. The shelves are full. The register’s untouched. It’s not abandoned but it’s empty.

You even check the back. Nothing

Steve cracks open a Sprite from the fridge and takes a long, loud gulp.

“Do you want to be any louder than that?”

You hiss, the noise of Steve’s obnoxious swallowing growing louder and louder at the fact that he knows it’s pissing you off

He takes one last gulp before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand

“Oh sorry was I bothering you?”

He says smirking, before you can snap back you hear Robins voice from outside

“Guys you might want to see this.”

You and Steve step out of the deserted building.  And your knees nearly buckle at the sight.

The road ahead is cut off.

Completely blocked by a wall of trees and boulders that definitely weren’t there before.

No road.

No exit.