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Steve paced at the bottom of the staircase watching as time ticked by.
Dylan was acting weirdly aloof with him. He tried wracking his brain for anything he could've done to piss her off but came up blank. It could be that she was onto him.
Dylan was smart that way but if she knew what he was up to, would she really be so standoffish?
Steve played with the ring box in his pocket and each time he flicked the velvet box open and close, the more nervous he got.
He'd been putting this off for a year and he thought he'd finally found the right time but Dylan seemed startled from the moment she pulled up in the driveway. If Steve had been found out, was Dylan going to say no?
If she was going to tell him no, she decided to look damn good doing it. Dylan sauntered down the stairs exactly an hour later, in a tight black dress he'd never seen before. She smiled at him as she descended, and he felt a little better. But something still seemed off.
He held her hand to lead her to the car.
In their leather booth at Enzo's, Dylan's usual witty banter had been replaced with silence and empty gazes.
She gulped down each glass of wine placed in front of her, then requested another.
Steve couldn't help himself and kept pace to calm himself.
"Did you want to order dessert?" Steve asked and Dylan finally looked at him for the first time in probably fifteen minutes.
"Sorry, what did you say?" She was finally looking at him, but she still seemed somewhere else. "I'm sorry for being such a dick. You have my full attention."
"I asked if you wanted dessert."
"Oh, sure."
Steve handed her the menu to look over. "Your choice, m'lady."
He watched her eyes scan over the italic text more than necessary for the four options scribed on the card paper menu.
"We don't have to get anything," said Steve. It had been his plan to ask her the question over dessert but maybe that was too cringy and cliche. "It was only a suggestion."
She shook her head. "No, let's get the tiramisu."
The waiter came and took their order and Dylan leaned across the table to hold both of his hands. "I really am sorry. I'm happy to be here with you."
"Is something wrong?"
Dylan squeezed his hands tighter. "No, I think I'm just stressed with everything going on... I decided to stay, I mailed my papers today."
Steve attempted to hide his grin but couldn't. He thought Dylan might go back to California, she deserved to. She'd earned it. But he'd be lying if he wanted to be apart from her. It was a little selfish since staying meant dealing with all the same freak of nature bullshit they always did, this time only riding on the hunch that something bad would return.
"I can't say I'm not happy, I hate being away from you, but I know how hard of a decision it was for you."
"It wasn't that hard. I should be here to help," she returned his grin with a softer one. "I should be here with you."
"That's great, Dyl." Steve began to ramble. "And don't worry, I've already been looking at places for us. I think I've really got something good lined up..."
The tiramisu was placed in front of them and Steve abruptly shut up, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt in his pocket once again for the velvet box. It was as he planned but was it the right moment? Was there ever a right moment?
"Don't worry, Steve. We don't need to rush it."
Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, empty handed.
Steve drove them home, now silent himself. Not that Dylan was adding much conversation still. When they returned home, Steve sat in the driveway and let the radio play awhile before getting out. Dylan didn't even seem to notice they'd stopped.
He turned the key and once the music stopped, Dylan glanced his way.
"I think I'm gonna take a walk." He told her.
She scrunched up her face. "In your suit? Did you want company?"
"You head inside." He shook his head. "I'll be back in a bit."
Steve hit the pavement and took a left. His feet were moving faster than his brain, and when he showed up at the radio station, he almost surprised himself.
He was lucky the lights were still on, letting him know someone was inside.
Steve let himself in and followed the sound of voices.
Under a lamp light glow, Robin and Dustin sat on the floor flicking through cassette tapes. His dress shoes tapped loudly on the floor, warning them of his approach.
Dustin jumped up. "If it isn't Steve Harrington, fresh off the market."
Robin stayed seated, her face contorted in shadows of confusion. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off celebrating? Getting nasty with that hot wife of yours?"
Robin and Dustin exchanged looks but came to different conclusions.
"Oh, shit. Did she say no?" Robin said.
Followed by Dustin's. "This dipshit definitely chickened out again."
Steve grunted. "Dylan didn't say no. I didn't ask. She seemed so weird tonight. I'm telling you, if you were there..."
Dustin rolled his eyes. "You always have an excuse. It's been over a year of you holding onto that stupid ring. Give it to her already!"
Robin pointed to Dustin with a nod. "It's true. You might as well ask her or pawn it at this point. Do you think she'll say no? You've been together, like, four years."
"Whatever." Steve sat on the floor next to Robin. "Anything I need to know for tomorrow?"
"No." Robin told him in a voice that let him know how stupid she thought he was. "You're off tomorrow, that's why Dustin's here helping me. You should go home and rip the damn bandaid off and propose to Dylan."
"—To add to that," continued Robin. "You should also probably go home and convince her to stay and join us on the station. I mean, hello? She's got half a degree in broadcast journalism. Better than I can say for the two of you."
"Two good points, Robin." Dustin frowned at Steve. "You really shouldn't be asking a sixteen year old for help all the time."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You're good at the smart tech-y stuff, nerd."
"Go home!" Both Dustin and Robin shouted at him.
"Jesus." Steve mumbled under his breath but he still took his retreat.
He could admit that they were both correct to their faces, but he could admit it to himself. He was being chickenshit.
On the walk home, Steve popped into an open store to grab some flowers. But when he finally returned home, his car and Dylan were gone.
