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036. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆
𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴.
“𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍, 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 you’ve scraped your knee, or something,” Lori grimaced, dabbing the cloth to a particularly rough gash under his eye.
She’d finished cleaning off the blood from his busted lip. Still, she stood with her legs inches from his chest, his hands on the backs of her knees and neck tilted back to look up at her. It was warmly lit in his bathroom— the overhead light provided a sort of golden ambiance, and the orange tint of his lamp from the bedroom spilled in. The house was dead quiet except for them, alone in a big house. But it wasn’t suffocatingly quiet, and she found herself taking comfort in that.
She squinted her eyes as she dabbed the cloth to the gash, this time more delicate at the center of the wound. Every time she started on a new gash, she felt worse and worse— seeing him like this ignited a certain sadness in her that she didn’t even realize she could have. But he still sat, hands on the backs of her knees for comfort, eyes peacefully closed and willing to let her do anything. The amount of trust that he held in her was almost enough to make her jump into his arms right then, but she was weary of the other bruises along his body that she hadn’t seen, but knew they were there. She winced at the thought of him having bruises all over.
“What’s wrong, Philbs,” he spoke out, voice so delicate against the quietness of the bathroom.
She sort of jumped out of her thoughts, “What,” she said, looking away from the gash to see that he’d opened his eyes— and was staring at her expression.
“You look…” he trailed off, drawing his eyes over different parts of her face while he searched for words. “Worried, or something,”
“Oh, nothing,” she brushed it off, smiling lightly at him despite the tenseness of her face. “I’m okay,” she said, “Don’t worry about me—”
He pressed on the back of her knees, looking at her seriously. “Lori.” he said.
His tone of voice made her pause, and she locked eyes. The cloth hovered over the gash under his eye that she was cleaning.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, reassuringly, as if he could read her mind. “It’s just a couple of bruises,” he let out a small laugh.
“Yeah, I know,” she said, and looked down at her hands as she drew the cloth back. Suddenly the weaving of the cloth looked much more interesting than his eyes studying her face.
“Hey, everything’ll heal,” he said, softly. “This pretty face isn’t too beat up for you, is it?—”
She let out a scoff at the stupid joke, turning her head to hide the smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed it lightly, causing him to laugh. She didn’t see him wince at the small jolt of pain it caused, though.
He rose a hand up to her face, and pushed a thick strand of hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, it’ll distract you.” a small smile pulled at the corner of his lip, using her line this time.
She drew in a tight breath and stared at his eyes, his deep brown eyes that she adored. But more specifically, the big purple bruise under one of his eyes that buldged with discomfort. She brought the cloth up to his cheek, and carefully, resumed cleaning the wound there.
“I was saying,” she exhaled, focusing on the gash, “When’s the last time you’ve, like, scraped your knee, or something like that,” she said, referring to his lack of skills— thinking that it must’ve been a while since the last time he’d gotten hurt.
He registered that question now, unlike before when she’d first asked it just minutes ago. His body sort of tensed a little bit, and she noticed this, but decided not to say anything. Still, she payed close attention to how his eyes were shut now, instead of looking at her, and how he swallowed the saliva in his mouth before speaking.
“Last year,” he said, sort of lowly, “Around Christmas,” his voice came out different.
Lori narrowed her eyebrows and laughed a little, “That’s the last time you’ve scraped your knee? I wasn’t being serious about the knee thing, Harrington, that’s kinda specifi—”
“No,” he winced, like he was remembering a bad memory, angry that he worded it wrong, “I, uh, it was a fight— got the shit beat out of me,” he said honestly, “I used to deny it, but not anymore.”
Lori’s eyes grew wide, though her heart sort of fell when she realized this was the second time he’d gotten the shit beaten out of him. “By who?” she asked, intrigued now. “Close your eyes, please,”
He shut his eyes. He let out a sigh. “Jonathan Byers,”
Lori damn near fell over. “Byers?” she exclaimed, pulling back.
Steve let out a sigh and turned his head, “Yes, Lori,” he drowned out. “Will’s older brother.”
“I’m not laughing,” she said, trying to hold in her laughter, but his eyes were closed so he couldn’t tell. She tilted his head back again, bringing the cloth to his eye. “Why’d you get into a fight with him? Of all people,”
“It’s a long story,” he said, lowly.
She reached for the bottle in the first aid kit, grabbing a new piece of gauze. “We’ve got time.”
He sighed again, and she could tell he was hesitating. He’d never told her about his past or anything, and she didn’t really know what he was like before she arrived in Hawkins— except for the little bit Helena Gibson had told her in the library. Something about being a douchebag, basket-ball team, King of Hawkins High and his “golden couple” relationship with Nancy Wheeler. And nothing more than that. She’d never known why Nancy dumped him, either. But she had a feeling she was going to find out very soon.
“Listen, Philbs,” he pressed on the back of her knees and opened his eyes, staring at her. The famous ‘listen, Philbs’ he always used before divulging something sensitive. He had that look on his face, the one people get before they reveal information they’ve never told anyone, or something like that. “I’m just gonna be honest, alright? Better now than later.”
She stared at him, at the honest look in his eyes. Slowly, she nodded. He shut his eyes then, and she took that as invitation to resume cleaning his gashes, and so she did.
“Before… last Christmas, I was a real douchebag,” he admitted, speaking softly. “Im talking A-class asshole kind of douchebag.”
She hummed in response, notifying him that she was listening, and that he could go on. But he didn’t need her approval to keep going, he was going to continue no matter if she was listening or not.
“To Nancy, to everyone,” he said slowly. “I loved being the king of, fuckin’, Hawkins High, or whatever it was they called me— I don’t even care anymore. But I loved it. I was a real dick, and all I cared about was keeping a goddamn status.” he scoffed at the end of that sentence, like he couldn’t believe how much of a douchebag he really was.
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. She patted his black eye with the gauze, and placed it on the sink. She grabbed a fresh bandage.
“And then at a certain point— not long after Will went missing— Nancy sort of started…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “Pulling away from me.”
Lori immediately knew what that meant, and her heart sort of softened. “Don’t be mad, but… I’m guessing this is where Byers comes in, huh.” she unpeeled the wrapper.
“How’d you know,” he said, sarcastically.
She shrugged, “Just a hunch.” she brought the small bandage up to his eye. “This might hurt a sec,”
He winced and let out a tiny whimper as she pressed on the bandage to stick it there over his wound. “But it was my fault. It was all my fault. But even still, I blamed it on her.”
Lori patted the bandage a few times to make sure it was good, but her face fell at his words. She stayed silent, but listened.
“And so I got mad. Real mad. And I did some really, really shitty things. To her and everyone else.” he said regretfully, but still always honest. She had a feeling he didn’t want to share those shitty things, and she wasn’t going to make him. “I tried to fight him— Jonathan, I mean. In some alley off Main Street. But turns out he’s got some real fire in him,” he let out a small laugh, of approval. “Beat the shit out of me.”
She pulled back and examined his face, letting his words sink all the way in. Humming in response, she reached for the cloth and ran it under the water as he continued.
“I tried to make it better,” he said. “Because I just felt like shit. I ditched my friends— they were never friends in the first place. But I ditched em’ anyways and I was on my way to make things right with Jonathan, showed up at his door and everything. But somethin’ was off.”
He sort of paused for a moment.
Lori’s eyebrows sort of narrowed. “And then what?” she said, ever so softly.
“I didn’t know it at first, but they were getting everything ready for a battle.” he said, quieter now. More hoarse. “They were together there, him and Nancy, and, and she tried to make me leave, but I just wouldn’t. And then the lights started flickering… and that’s when it came. From the goddamn ceiling.” he paused again, and she was just about to ask but he finished before she could. “The demogorgon.”
Lori slowed the cloth, and an immediate flash of the demodogs flooded her mind. She thought back to when Steve had told her about the real demogorgons, how he’d fought one in the Byers living room. She gulped.
“And ever since then, everything sort of changed.” he admitted, with a long, shaky breath. “I wasn’t mad at him, or Nancy, or anyone but myself. The whole… interdimensional monster thing really turned me around, if you will.”
Her chest felt stiff.
“After that we sort of all shared this collective thought process, or something— me and everyone involved. Like we were all thinking the same things all of a sudden.” he said. “And Nancy stayed with me. I wasn’t a douchebag anymore, I guess that’s why, or something. But I was different— we were all different after that.”
Eyes never leaving his face, she tossed the cloth back to the sink and grabbed the gauze, repeating the same process on the very last cut. Her eyebrows were tense now, face gone stiff with tons of different emotions.
“You don’t have to tell me why Nancy dumped you, Steve,” Lori suddenly spoke out when he paused again, her voice so soft. She knew that they reached the point of the story where their breakup came into play. “I don’t need to know if you don’t wanna tell me.”
He leaned into those words, letting them sink in. He relished every part of her honesty, and her kindness. Silence befell them for a while, and she thought that he might’ve regretted everything he said.
“Can I tell you something, Philbs?” he looked up at her.
A hum emitted from the back of her throat, a comforting sign that he could continue. She was slightly perplexed for a moment, though, because he’d already been telling her sensitive information. What was he asking for now?
“Im glad about the way it all worked out,” he said after a while, softly.
“What do you mean,” she asked, calmly. “Tilt your head up,”
“You and I,” he said. And his words echoed off the bathroom walls, even though they were so painfully quiet. “Me and you. Whatever this is.”
The gauze slowed at his jaw. “Steve,”
“Lori,” he opened his eyes.
She locked eyes with him, and her heart picked up its pace. She patted the gauze once more and he didn’t flinch this time, and she didn’t look away from his face. Suddenly she realized what this was. What he was getting into next.
“Look, Philbs,” he said, ever so softly. “When we were back on that bus, I didn’t say everything I wanted to say. And I should’ve said it on those back steps, but I got scared.” his eyes bled into hers. He let out a shaky breath. “I got scared.”
Her arm slowly fell limp, gauze in hand at her side now. “Scared?”
“Can I be completely honest?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. “You can hate me afterwards but I just have to say it.”
Slowly, she nodded.
“I don’t care how this started,” he pointed between them, “I don’t care that I used you for your car to get that godforsaken necklace in Nowheresville, or that you were trying to help me win Nancy back — I don’t care about all that, because somewhere along the way I stopped pretending.”
She swallowed. “Pretending what?”
“Pretending that you weren’t on my mind the whole time— ever since you marched up to my car in the middle of the night like a fuckin’ lunatic. Pretending that all I felt for you was annoyance or irritation.” he breathed out. “Pretending that it was all for Nancy. That I wanted my life back. Somewhere along the way I just stopped lying to myself. I stopped lying to myself, Philbs.”
Her heart swelled, “Steve—”
“So I don’t care that this started because of someone else,” he said, out of breath from talking, “Because it’s not someone else and I don’t think it’s ever even been someone else at all— because it was you all along. I don’t care if you don’t wanna hear me say it and I don’t care that this is coming out of nowhere, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I kissed you on those steps. It was you all along.”
His words echoed off the walls. He wasn’t loud, but his words were powerful and held so much meaning that they impacted the air she took in. Her heart twisted and her stomach tightened, and she wondered where the hell that whole thing came from.
“Steve,” she repeated, this time even softer.
“Lori.” He let out a shaky breath, still sitting there on the seat with her in between his legs.
Time stood still where he waited for a response. Finally, after a few silent moments, her lip quirked upward.
She couldn’t help but let out the tiniest laugh, and the only thing that came to mind. “God, you are such a cliche, Steve Harrington.”
His bruised face broke out into the widest smile at those words, and the immediate burst of emotion in his chest caused him to pull her closer—as close as she could get. He didn’t know what kind of response he was expecting, because he hadn’t anticipated spilling all of that out right then— it sort of just spilled without control.
But that reaction, that was Lori Philbin. And it made his heart flutter uncontrollably. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Could’ve warned me you were gonna pull that out of your ass tonight,” she laughed out loud, and the sound of it beamed off the walls. Her face literally hurt from smiling so hard.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight. “Monumental declarations don’t come with warnings, Philbin.” he laughed, placing the tip of his chin on her stomach, staring up at her. “It ruins the surprise.”
“How hard did you hit your head when you fell over?” she forgot about the fucking gauze and lifted her hands, running her fingers through his hair. She felt this surge of emotion wash through her. “Goddamnit, Steve.”
“You don’t have to say anything in response,” he said, calmly, watching her comb her fingers through his hair.
“I’m not good with talking.” she said, smile slowly diminishing as she watched her fingers in his hair. “About… feelings. I don’t know, I’ve never really had to before,”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, I promise it’s alright,” he stared up at her with soft, honest eyes, making sure she knew. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She trailed her eyes around his face. His calm, honest, bruised face. She thought of his selflessness. Of his kindness. She would have never guessed that one day she’d be standing between the legs of Steve the Hair Harrington, thinking about how great of a person he was. She nearly teared up just thinking about the marvel of a human being she was standing in front of.
“I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.” she said out loud. She didn’t really know if she let it slip by accident or not.
“How so,” he trailed his hands down from her waist to the back of her thighs.
“You’re just not at all the person that I thought you were.” She admitted, finding a particular interest in the strands of his hair. “In a good way. A really good way.”
“Is that so?” a smile grew on his face.
“And maybe,” she trailed off, debating silently wether she should continue. She knew she was going to, anyways. “Maybe I’m, like, kind of glad I met you. Or something.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love, but Steve knew that that was Lori trying. Trying to express her feelings. She was good at a lot of things, and she was great at talking. But not when it came to her feelings. He knew that. He’d known that even before she told him. But she was trying, and that’s all he needed.
“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re catching feelings for me, Philbs,” his eyes glimmered, speaking sarcastically. Her heart jumped at the parallel from that very same sentence uttered on top of the bus.
“Gross,” she fake-grimaced.
He smiled. “Ouch.”
“My life in Hawkins wouldn’t be the same,” she said, running another hand through his hair carefully, “Without you, I guess. No, I know. Not I guess.” her lips formed into a tight line, “Sorry. This was so much easier when I was tipsy,”
She moved her hands from his hair down to the sides of his face, careful of the bruises and bandages. “Dustin, he, uh,” she swallowed, “Back in the tunnels, he told me that one day I’d have to explain myself to you, or something like that. Because he, um, well,” she let out a shaky breath, “When you knocked out, you know, after all this,” she motioned to his beat up face, “I may or may not have been a tad bit teary-eyed, or something.”
Steve’s eyes softened.
“I mean, this is all according to the little shit, but, uh,” she looked down at his chest instead of his eyes— she found it hard to express her feelings while making eye contact. “If he was able to notice something between us then I figured maybe I should stop pretending I didn’t notice it too.”
His grip tightened on the back of her thighs, and his eyes never left her face.
“He’s a little wise-ass,” she chuckled faintly.
But he was still listening.
“So I don’t know what this means or what’s gonna happen,” her hands found the collar of his shirt, and rested there. “But I’m seventeen years old and have no plans for college so I guess that means I have all the time in the world to figure out the right words.”
A particular smile slid onto his lips now, something she’d never seen. He was looking at her with a certain look, a meaningful one.
“And I have all the time in the world to figure out how to say them to you.” she finished.
Silently consumed in their own marvelous thoughts, she moved to sit on his lap. His hands traveled from the back of her thighs to the side of them, and one around her waist. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, fingers just touching the ends of his hair. He felt his heart pick up even more, and she felt her breathing accelerate.
“I’m sorry I accidentally stole your cassette tape,” he whispered.
“I don’t care,” she whispered back, before leaning in.
Careful of the cut along the corner of his mouth, she placed her lips on his. A sea of fireworks erupted in the pit of her stomach at the contact, and she inhaled deeply from the overwhelming emotion it caused her. His hands tightened at her waist, and he kissed back only lightly— but they didn’t need to add force. They didn’t need to reattach or move their lips together in undeniable passion and heat this time. All they needed to do was bask in the gloriousness of one kiss, one beautiful, soft, delicate kiss.
She didn’t care that his lips left a faint aftertaste of blood. All she cared about was the feeling of his lips on hers after the night’s trauma, his words echoing in her mind, and the growing jumble of nerves tangling in her stomach. His hand met the curve of her waist perfectly, settling there as he drank in every little moment of that one simple kiss, eyes shut tight to savor it completely. Her fingers drove into the ends of his hair so softly and so slowly, wanting to trace every part of him.
He pulled away, eyes fluttering open to examine her face up close. “You are the craziest person I’ve ever met.”
She opened her eyes to see him already looking around her face, but she didn’t cower away at his stare. She stared at his glimmering brown eyes and played along with the hilarious cliché of it all. “Total basket-case?”
Firmly, he nodded. “Total.”
𝙅𝙐𝙇𝙄
some of my favorite lines i’ve ever written are in here
this whole convo just scratches a part of my brain that i didn’t know needed scratching 🫶
i’m so beyond amazed at both of their character developments and i’m the goddamn writer 🤭 oops
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