BLOOM//steve harrington

TWO

"JESUS, TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!" STEVE CRIED, PULLING HIS PILLOW OVER HIS HEAD. Bright morning sunlight streamed in through his blinds, making Vivian squint. Steve's alarm clock was blaring relentlessly on his nightstand, right next to her head. She reached out blindly, trying to muffle it, and her hand grasped onto the cold metal. "Shut up," she muttered, turning it off. 

The sudden silence made Vivian's ears buzz. She was wrapped up in Steve's bedspread, her hair a frazzled mess. Steve groaned, stretching and pulling her to his side. "That was the best I've slept in a while," he said, his eyes still closed, his hair sticking up in every direction, his face flushed. "Me too," Vivian agreed, smiling at the innocent sight. She tickled his side lightly, making him squirm and swat her hand. 

"What time is it?" Steve mumbled lightly, and Vivian's eyes widened as she looked at the clock. "Uh, it's noon." "What?" Steve said, shooting upright. "We majorly slept in," Vivian said, her head in her hands. Steve jumped out of bed, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. Vivian followed more slowly; she'd never been a morning person. 

Steve yanked on his uniform haphazardly, wrinkled from where it had been laying on the floor. He tripped into the bathroom, trying vainly to smooth his hair. Vivian shook her head; him and his hair. She popped her head in the doorway. "I'm gonna change in your room, so don't come out." "Right." Steve winked at her as she shut the door, and she banged on it pointedly, trying not to laugh. "I mean it, Harrington."

Vivian had, of course, borrowed clothes last night; she'd been living pretty much solely in a borrowed wardrobe all summer, courtesy of Steve's closet. She wiggled into her day-old swimsuit and pulled her shorts over it. She opened the bathroom door again, Steve yelping and covering his eyes. "She's trying to expose herself to me! Someone help!" he cried, and Vivian shoved past him. "In your dreams," she snorted. "Nice hair, by the way." "Oh, fuck off," Steve whined, still trying to tame it. 

"And you're one to talk," Steve retorted as Vivian caught sight of her own wild mane in the mirror. "Jesus, it looks like I got hit by a bus." "Two buses," Steve offered, and Vivian rolled her eyes, throwing her hair up into a ponytail. She slid her feet into her sandals, which were on opposite sides of Steve's bedroom. 

"Are you almost ready, princess?" Vivian called to Steve, who poked his head out of the bathroom. "Don't patronize me." "You look fine!" Vivian promised. "You have to wear a hat anyway." Steve came out of the bathroom finally, looking defeated. "God, don't remind me. It's the worst." "You look cute, though," Vivian said, jogging down the stairs two at a time. "Whatever you say," Steve grumbled, following behind her. 

They stepped out into the bright afternoon, the sky cloudless and the sun beaming. "It's so hot," Vivian complained, sliding into the passenger side of Steve's car. She winced as the leather burned her legs. "Thank you, Sherlock Holmes," Steve said. Vivian rolled her eyes and fished in her pocket for a cigarette. "Do you have to smoke in here?" Steve asked, his eyes fixed on the road. "You're getting me irritated, so yes," Vivian retorted, not meaning it. She opened the glove compartment, where she'd stowed a spare lighter, and Steve sighed; Vivian patted his knee. "Crack a window, honey." 

This summer felt like the hottest one yet. The sidewalks were blanched white by the sun, and looking at them made Vivian's eyes hurt. Kids ran up and down the street, on bikes or barefoot. Steve shook his head. "What?" Vivian questioned. "These kids are putting their lives at risk every goddamn second," he said. "They're just running out in the street like I couldn't run them over." "Well, that's kids for you," Vivian sighed. "You should know that by now though. We have about six." Steve laughed, his genuine smile sending a little jolt of electricity through her chest. 

"Don't I know it," he agreed. "They're gonna be the death of me." "Ugh, can you believe they're starting high school next month?" Vivian asked. "That doesn't even seem right," Steve said. "I mean, Henderson still eats his boogers." "So do you," Vivian argued as they pulled into the community pool parking lot. "I do not," Steve denied, offended.