013| lovesick patience

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BRIAR WOKE UP EARLIER THAT MORNING with dreams in her eyes and a smile deep in her heart. The world was different, the sky a pristine cerulean despite the November months. Her room glowed orange like the warm light of setting suns and she actually grinned uncontrollably when she stretched her arms over her head because Steve Harrington was coming to her house that day and she was going to tell him she loved him.

Years of living in secrecy under forged advice and small glances were flying out the window like small moths into the air, brittle and untouchable. The world was changing and with it came the Briar with confidence, who didn't bottle up emotions and who had kissed Steve on the cheek and invited him right back into her clutches..

Briar felt she had never been more happy despite everything that had happened to her. The crescent moon bruise was only just fading, the cut on her nose still a line of pink but she forgot the ache in her back and the tears in her heart because she knew Steve could patch up them up with one simple smile and she'd be set for the rest of her life.

He wasn't coming until two but she still woke at nine and spent too long getting dressed. Briar showered for half an hour, washing her hair and dousing it in masks that smelt like mango and honey. She washed her face in suds and shaved her legs until they felt smooth as butter. Briar brushed her teeth, flossed and all. She brushed her hair until all the small droplets of water dropped onto the bathmat.

Her cluttered bathroom was filled with steam as she lazily moisturised her face and rubbed lotion into her body until she couldn't possibly have smelt bad ever again. Briar sat on the toilet and painted her toenails a dark orange, her fingers matching. Briar dried her hair until it looked shiny, a roller in her bangs to get the perfect volume to frame her plucked eyebrows and bright eyes.

She was never one for loads of makeup not because she didn't appreciate the art but because she was never very good at it. Regardless, she brushed mascara to make her eyes darker and blush onto the apples of her cheek. Briar smoothed balm onto her lips and sprayed perfume on pressure points. She dressed in another summers dress, this one matched her nail polish and tied in woven straps over her shoulders. Briar walked around in the sandals with thick cork soles she wished to wear on beaches. They were comfy as slippers but durable enough to walk around outside.

Briar was ready hours before she needed to be but while her parents were at work and her brothers at school, Briar cleaned the house from top to bottom. Even rooms that Steve would never enter. She scrubbed skirting boards and hoovered up corners, sprayed everything with citrus scented disinfectant and positioned her sunflowers in pride of place on the counter. She baked cookies with vanilla extract and a hint of lavender and fluffed pillows on her leather sofa.

At two, she sat with her heart racing in her chest. Did she tell him straight away or wait in that horribly sweaty anticipation. No, she should get it over with. Anxiety would mess with her mind and Briar knew that she had to get it off her chest. After all, this thing has been digging into her sides for years. At times it had dictated her life to the point where she'd screamed into pillows and cried to ABBA songs.

It would be better just to tell him. That way they could spend the afternoon in a different light. Of course that counted on Steve liking what she told him but Briar knew that he would. She saw herself watching the film close to his side. That's what horror films were for anyway. She got scared easily regardless.

She saw them holding hands and it felt amazing. Briar couldn't believe she'd waited so long. Of course Steve had been single minimal amounts of time in his life so Briar supposed she hadn't exactly been given ample opportunity. She wasn't oblivious to the way he stared at her, she wondered when it had happened. Briar certainly hadn't noticed before Billy. Did that mean her twisted and accidental plan of forcing him to notice her had actually worked, Briar scoffed to herself.

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 | steve harrington Where stories live. Discover now