In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
NSFW: 18+ only
Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter Thirteen: Safety First
Steve Harrington's house was incredible. It's large two story structure lined with colored walls and floral printed shades that hung beautifully in the windows. Admittedly, it had always been Zara's favorite place, not because it exuded upper middle class, but more so for its unwavering silence. It was the complete opposite of what she was used to back home, with music playing constantly in the background, Erica's voice all high-pitched and exaggerated as she made her dolls make out with each other. Not to mention Lucas's pre-pubescent voice cracking with a mix of stress and frustration as he shouted at Dustin through his walkie-talkie.
Never at Steve's though.
The Harrington residence was always quiet and always equipped with a plethora of warm blankets and a box full of movies. Steve's parents were nice enough—when they were around of course and that wasn't often.
Zara had groaned internally in distaste, her eyes rolling at the thought of Steve's parents and the way they'd blatantly neglected him. After years of watching the boy take care of himself, Zara's mental court room had unanimously decided that they definitely weren't fit to be parents. Their absence filled the living room with its empty couches and the expensive television that was always left untouched.
The only sound of life in the home was Steve's bare feet pattering rhythmically against the hardwood, his shoes and socks left at the front door. He was muttering to himself, soft words slewing together to form something about needing to add a few things to his grocery list and the painful irony made Zara chuckle a little to herself.
Seventeen and worried about groceries. It made her stomach turn even if she'd hidden it with dark humor that only Steve Harrington seemed to ever understand. "Don't laugh," His upper body swung to face her as she shuffled around through the cabinets, three shelves down and she'd found the snacks that Steve always remembered to keep around for her. Spicy chips, a plethora of sour candies, even a few assorted chocolate bars that she rarely ever touched unless she was sad or on her cycle. "If I don't write it down then I'll forget."
Her hands raised in defense, her Hoppin' Jalepeno Crunch Tators crinkling with each movement and when Sinclair was sure Steve wasn't going to swat at her; she opened her bag, shoving the chips in her mouth three at a time. "You don't have to defend yourself to me." Zara ascended up his stairs with ease, one hand trailing against the wooden banister that kept her from falling. Two doors down the hall and to the right and she was welcomed with the familiar sight of Harrington's bedroom.
One large bed wrapped in a generic blue duvet with the same checker print mattress cover that he'd had since the sixth grade. "Don't get your chip crumbs on my bed this time," He grumbled as he tore off his grey shirt to replace it with a clean one—the previous falling forgotten on the floor with the others. "That shit cut into my back for like a week!"
