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"Baby." The word is severely slurred and overly exaggerated, but she doesn't put it past the boy as he slides into view from the living room, pointing a curved finger at her.
"What?" she laughs from the island, turning around on the stool to fully face him.
"I love you." The statement is half-sung half said as he gives a lopsided grin. She chuckles at his antics, shaking her head.
"Ok, Steve."
It's been about ten minutes since Steve Harrington had showed up at her front door, and she knew from the moment she looked through the shades and saw him standing there that he was hammered. Naturally, she opened the door for the ecstatic boy and he'd stumbled right in like he owned the place. With her parents out with friends for the night, it gives her free reign of the house and her companion the ability to make as much of a drunk ruckus as he wants.
"See this is a two way thing." Steve approaches her quickly, stopping near of being completely on top of her before leaning his face close enough for her to smell the alcohol on his breath.
"What's a two way thing?" She puts a hand on his chest to keep him a healthy distance back so he doesn't slump over on her.
"I say I love you, and you"— he takes her hand, folding all of her fingers down except her index and pressing it against his nose— "say it back."
"You're real drunk this time, Steve." She pulls her hand away and he turns on his heel, heading for the fridge. He opens the door, a little harsher than he probably meant, pulling out the orange juice and looking at it.
"I don't know," he says to it. "I don't know why she acts like this."
"Oh great." She slides off of the stool, walking around the island and taking the jug from him. She sets it on the counter and takes two cups from the cabinet before turning back, setting them down as well. Steve comes up next to her as she pours them both a glass.
"What're you doing?" he whispers, putting his chin on her shoulder, facing her.
"Making orange juice," she whispers back, pulling away to put the jug back. He nods in approval, picking up one of the glasses and examining it.
"Do you think oranges have feelings?" he asks, and she can't help but laugh. He looks down to her and she closes her mouth at the seriousness of his gaze, trying to hold it in.
"No, they don't," she answers through a hitched breath.
"Are you sure?" There almost seem to be tears in his eyes as he takes a sip of the drink.
"Yes, I'm sure," she assures him. He nods, sniffling as a single Hollywood-esque tear falls down his cheek. "Ok, come here you big baby." He sets down the glass as she opens her arms to him.
