𝐖𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ¹

012

012. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱, 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿
𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀.

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 evaporating into the air. It was a sweet visual, with the haze floating above the little ripples and the sunrise in the reflection— the deep blue up above and the streaks of morning yellow at the horizon. The clouds were getting lighter every few minute seconds. Birds were chirping somewhere, crackling in the tree branches all around and orchestrating with the swaying of the leaves, small, humming wooshes from different corners of the lake.

She'd watched the sunrise many a' time, but as she watched the water ripple and the feet dangle beside her, she realized it had never felt quite like this. Her fingertips were touching the wood of the dock, feeling the coarseness of it on her skin, and she inhaled the sweet smell of autumn. She'd never been one for admiring seasons. But there, by this lake, with the orange trees reflected in the sunrise water— she thought, maybe just this once.

A few moments had passed since they last spoke. He was still there, beside her on the dock, leaning back on his hands and staring out in front of him. She was still there, beside him on the dock, her legs folded up to her chest and her chin propped up on her knees. They'd sat for a few moments, just taking in their surroundings and the fact that they weren't pulling each other's hair out, spitting insults, or engaging in some form of petty argument. It was simply peaceful for once.

"So," Lori said. Her voice sounded heavy compared to the stillness around them, although her tone was rather soft. "I have to ask the question. Why am I your designated driver?" she asked, without looking at him.

Steve shrugged, nonchalantly. "Everyone's sleeping at three in the morning, I couldn't make any calls."

"But you could climb through my window," she looked at him, stupidly. "What about your friends? You mentioned them back there but I was kinda half asleep—"

"They're not my friends," Steve cut her off, speaking with a hurt honesty. "Whoever you're thinking of, they're not my friends."

"Oh," she turned her head to look at him. His face was tense, and his eyebrows were doing that thing they did when he was upset, all tightly knit. "Is that because of Nancy,"

"Somewhat." he said, forming his lips in a tight line. He stared down at his hands.

When she noticed him clench his jaw, she tilted her head to the side, only slightly. "She got you bad, huh."

Steve widened his eyes for a second before returning them back to normal, as if saying 'oh yeah'. He rose his hand, and lazily formed a finger gun, pointing it to his heart and pulling the imaginary trigger.

"Can I say something," she said, suddenly, and looked back to the water.

"Lori Philbin asking for permission?" he joked. "Go ahead."

She focused on the way her teeth felt against her lip for a moment before looking to him. "I can't help but notice the fact that you, Harrington, have a heart of glass."

For a second, he didn't even know what she'd said. He knew she was random, and this was random. But then his face twisted a bit. "No, people like Nancy have a heart of glass." he said, confidently.

"And what do you suppose it means?" she looked at his hair, as he ran a hand through it. "If you're so smart."

"Well what do you say it means." he replied, his eyes trailing around the horizon before landing on her.