tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

twenty five.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE:
AFTERGLOW.
MIKE'S POV.

"are you aware that a lot of people stare at you when you're out in public?"

"hm?" the raven haired boy lifted his head from its position on the grass beneath him, pulling up his sunglasses slightly to look at the people surrounding them before letting his gaze fall to the brunette curled up on his chest.

it had only been a few days since the pairs studio breakdown together and in all honesty, things were well... odd between the two of them.

you see, especially after processing what their words and each of their tears meant to their potential fate, both the writer and the artist proposed it was time to start from square one with their relationship. which sounds ridiculous, truly the idea was absurd in its own way. though, the intentions behind it were sweeter than the word sweet itself.

they wanted to heal, to mend the bond they once had and both blatantly taken advantage of. after all, it was undeniably needed. seriously, the more the raven haired boy thought about his beautiful honey orbed artist, the more he wanted to sit and study every movement, every glimpse of a reaction across her unforgettable features and every single word that escaped her pretty plush lips.

because generally speaking mike wheeler knew el hopper, her trauma and her sarrows, but ask him what her favorite color was?

he would simply shrug and say something silly like red.

so with that being said, they swore to spend time learning about the other rather than assuming how each other feels. and like he had promised her as he comforted her through each of her worries a few days ago, he indented to take things slow.

again, that was the original plan.

but it didn't take long for the mike to notice how awfully touchy the small girl was, the way her hand was permanently intertwining with his or how her fingertips were constantly curling into any and every free floating fabric that was wrapped around his slim body. those were some things about her that he couldn't bare to ignore. she was attached to him, forever molded into his side every second since they had reconnected back in that tiny studio together.

now just because this wasn't his original intention he had in mind... he wasn't exactly complaining about it either.

because at this very moment, el hopper was toying with the buttons of his shirt, her head resting carelessly on top of his right ribcage as her eyes wandered in the peaceful atmosphere around them. it was calm, heavenly actually, each of her soft movements burning against his skin as their bodies laid limp across that patch of grass they had claimed as theirs in the middle of central park.

she was so delicate, so effortlessly infinite. and in all honesty, with the way her small chest way rising and falling in the most fragile pattern against his frame, he could care less about all the promises they made to each other back in that dingy room tucked far away in the middle of manhattan.

because truthfully, he also felt like he die right here, right now and he absolutely wouldn't care.

"i was not aware that people stare at me when i'm out in public." the writer mumbled as his hand fell to the dip along the side of her stomach. his fingertips started to dance along the fabric of her cream colored shirt, mimicking the same simple patterns hers were playing across his chest.