Saturday evening
Steve's POV
"Should I really actually call him? Why did I even agree to this, why did I promised him, it's so stupid, why am I entertaining the "enemy"? It hasn't even been a week since he last beat the shit out of me.", I thought, an unintended frown momentarily creasing my brow before I swiftly banished it. "Oh right, he had already apologized, why am I so stuck up on the past?He's no longer my enemy.", I mused as these questions consistently swirls through my mind as I paced around my living room, my legs aching and cramped from my shift at Scoops Ahoy earlier. Despite my thriving fatigue, my ever so growing curiosity of Hargrove's sudden idiosyncratic behavior intrigued me even more. While weighing down my predicaments between sleeping or taking a wild gamble, I occasionally glanced at my rotary telephone placed on the table, which suddenly seemed very enticing now.
"Fuck it...", I muttered as I succumb to my curiosity and impulsiveness. I dart across the room, flinging myself onto the couch and hastily digging through my jean pockets to find the little note Hargrove gave me earlier at the shop. I glance at the scrawny and untidy numerals scribbled on the note before seizing the handset from the cradle. I inhaled a deep breath before I slowly but surely punched the digits onto the dial pad. As the telephone starts to ring, my anticipation rapidly rose as time around me seemingly feels like it was slowing down, the world stopping for a moment. "Is this a joke? What if he is just pranking me and this is some sort of cruel joke", my mind started to wander off again.
The phone rings just once more before my mind gets pulled back to reality by the sound of Hargrove's voice muffling through the speaker. "Hargrove residence, who's this?", his raspy voice echoing through my ears. I start nervously fidgeting with whatever object was within my reach, in this case it was a pillow right next to me. I paused for a moment and drew a deep breath to calm myself down before giving a reply, "Harrington residence, it's Steve."
Steve's voice feigned deep and nonchalant making it seem like calling his ex "enemy" was a daily occurrence and not out of the blue at all. However, beneath the facade, his confidence was a false-front, his breath hitching as he anxiously waited for Hargrove's next response.
Nevertheless, no other response came from the other end, maybe it was the awkwardness talking but Steve felt the dire need to end this strained silence.
"So....isn't the weather tonight in Hawkins quite humid...,", Steve started as he said whatever came to mind. "... like usually it's pretty foggy...and cooling...", he sheepishly blabbed on, straining his voice so it would not crack from the sudden dryness of his throat, internally already regretting calling Hargrove, wishing he had chosen to go to bed instead. However, it is only 7pm, who even retires to bed that early? Wait... actually who even talks about the damned weather??!, Steve mentally snapped to himself.
Billy's POV
"He actually called me.... maybe this bet will actually succeed in my favor after all.", I realized, feeling the side of my lips twinge upwards into a slight smirk. Immediately, determination to win this messed up shitstorm of a bet washes over me this as I mentally noted to plan my next course of actions and execute the next phase of my plan.
Still cradling the handset in the palm of my hands with Harrington on the other line, I let seconds flow by in silence with a million thoughts racing in my head. "Since Harrington not only phoned me, but is also initiating an actual conversation, this must mean he somewhat trusts me now, thus making us somewhat....acquaintances?" This sudden revaluation appalled me and instantaneously brought me to a pause. I, myself am fully aware that I'm not exactly a saint and is a horrible person (sugarcoated) to him, yet he still forgives me... and in return, I'm deceiving him.
"-Hello? Are you still there Hargrove?", Harrington's voice poured into my ears through the phone again, this time with a hint of worry in his voice. Startled, I snap out of my trance, almost dropping the handset from the grasps of my hand as I realized I have not replied nor said anything to him at all yet. I must say, this would've been quite an embarrassing moment, however this is only just Harrington. Who really gives a shit. Right..?
Despite that though, I was only half convinced with my made up excuse and could still feel the heat slowly creeping up my neck. I lightly cleared my throat with a slight cough and plastered on a bright smile, determined to mask my embarrassment with confidence. I swiftly recovered and changed the topic with an abrupt question to throw Harrington off guard.
"I'm thinking of taking my Camaro out for a night ride around Hawkins, just throwing it out there, but ya interested to join?", I suggested coolly only half expecting Harrington to agree. When he didn't immediately reply, I braced myself for his potential rejection. Then suddenly a singular "Yes." followed from the other line. It wasn't an overly enthusiastic kind of "Yes" that he often receives from the chicks in Hawkins High but more of a "nonchalant yet equally intrigued response, hinting at a curiosity about how this would play out" kind of yes. Albeit Harrington gave a succinct and brief response, his articulation of this three letters word was crystal clear, exuding power and confidence. It strikes me as the first time I'd heard him not stuttering, which further sparks my fascination even more on the type of guy Harrington must've been before his downfall and infamous reign ended.
"I'll swing by your place in like 20 minutes, make sure you got all your stuff together, I don't like waiting, alright?", I voiced through the telephone assertively with a slight hint of mischief lacing my tone. Without even waiting for Harrington's reply, I place the handset back down onto the cradle, ending our call.
3rd Person's POV
Billy ascended the stairs with purpose, skipping a few steps along the way, his gait exuded confidence and determination as he moved forward, each step deliberate and unhurried. In the quiet streets of Hawkins, with the evening sun casting long shadows, he knew there would be little to no traffic to impede his journey later, thus allowing him to savor the stroll to his room at his own pace. He deftly flung open his bedroom door with ease and swiftly but delicately reached out to grab his favorite denim jacket hanging on the backrest of his chair by his bed and effortlessly slipping it on.
He strode to his bathroom with a small smile, accessing his reflection in the mirror with precision, ensuring every strand of hair is meticulously styled to perfection. He turns around, as if he was about to leave, but his eyes caught sight of his bottle of "Drakkar Noir" cologne. With a swift motion, he grasped the bottle and sprayed a generous amount on himself. The rich aroma envelopes him as he nods in satisfaction, he savors the scent before continuing on his way.
A/N: DARLINGG, GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM JAIL😜👹
Anyways chat, sorry this chapter's update took close to 2 years but here is the long awaited update 😭 I don't think anyone's gonna be reading this anymore anyways but hey, I was suddenly feeling inspired to continue this story again so this was simply just for the lolsies
If anyone does end up reading this, then I hope you enjoyed it!! Toodles! 😇
Xoxo 💋🎀
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A losing bet // HARRINGROVE
FanfictionSteve Harrington and Billy Hargrove don't really get on the same page and see eye to eye, making them enemies. When a bet made at a party is the start of a turning point for their relationship. Will their relationship worsen or thrive? Billy j...
