With What Strength Remains (A Stranger Things Fanfic)

THE PHONE CALL

When Hopper woke again, he could feel Anne there beside him, under his arm. He opened his eyes lazily and found himself looking at the back of her head, her hair close enough for him to smell it. Craning his neck, he checked to see if she was asleep.

The lamp on the other nightstand was on casting its light directly on her face and fighting the darkness that still reigned outside the windows. Her eyes were closed, her breathing peaceful and rhythmic. Lifting his arm off her side, Hopper checked his watch.

Just after three.

He gently laid it back over her, inching himself closer to her sleeping frame. Fitting himself neatly against her body, he buried his nose ever so carefully into her mane, taking deep breaths of her scent. Fighting the urge to move her glossy tendrils aside so he could assail her neck with kisses, Hopper contented himself with just feeling her against him, breathing her in.

He had had a nightmare before with a woman; once with Joyce, three times afterward with different girls, all of whom took cover and/or split during his episode. Joyce, who had her own bad dreams, had tried to be soothing when it happened. She had hung on to him, weeping, begging Hopper to stop, feeding him his pill and booze. Her kids had woken up. He never slept over her house again. He didn't want to put them all through it when they were dealing with the same problems as he was. They needed someone stable they could lean on, someone strong.

His arm tightened around Anne's waist involuntarily.

They needed someone like Anne.

Sighing, Hopper looked up at the light on the other side of her head. It seemed so harsh at that moment that he wondered if she could really sleep comfortably with it shining in her eyes like that. He could tolerate the darkness for a few hours, he realized, if she was with him.

Lifting himself up on his elbow, Hopper reached over Anne towards the lamp, ready to grant her a little peace as she had done for him. But her hand arrested his before it made it near the shade.

"Leave it."

It startled him, the sudden movement and hearing her voice, having believed she was asleep and he cast his eyes down at her in surprise.

She was looking up at him, a yearning in her gaze that made his heart stumble.

"I don't mind it on," she murmured.

Then, with her eyes still locked onto his, she slowly brushed her hand up from his wrist, along his arm, over his shoulder until she was holding his cheek against her palm, her thumb lightly stroking his lips. He could feel his desire surge through him, laboring his breathing.

For a moment he hovered over her, still unsure, until she gently shifted herself so that she was lying on her back underneath him, sliding her hands over his shoulders invitingly. Swallowing, Hopper lowered himself until just before their lips could meet, their breaths brushing.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked hoarsely, praying to God she wouldn't say no.

Her answer was in her kiss, meeting his mouth the rest of the way in eager, greedy contact. He inhaled through his nose sharply as he felt the craving in her lips and tongue. Pulling him down on top of her, she locked her legs around his hips, demanding more of him.

Their hunger for each other was powerful, unfulfilled desire having been planted and growing rapidly over that past twenty four hours, culminating into this frenzied passion. It seemed that neither of them could be satisfied quick enough.

Afterward, Hopper lay gasping on top of her, listening to her own panting, sure the next thing to do was spoon and fall asleep. But when he went to lift himself off of her, her limbs constricted around his body, keeping him where he was.