take a picture, it'll last longer

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prompt: #24, "take a picture, it'll last longer."

Your best friend had forced you to attend a party on a Friday night. Where? You had no idea. Probably at some big house with a pool and a fridge filled with alcohol that you were most likely going to fill yourself up with. You weren't an alcoholic, but if there were drinks, there was a chance that you were going to get drunk off your ass. More times than not.

"I'm telling you, I have nothing to wear."

Standing in front of your closet, your hand on your hips, you sighed as you gazed into the depths of clothes. You held the phone up to your ear and furrowed your eyebrows. "Nancy, please help."

"You are 100% the most stylish girl I have ever met, Y/N. You're telling me you have no clothes?" your best friend said, exasperated. You shrugged, though she couldn't see you. "How about that cute red and orange tube top. The one you got at the mall with me last weekend. That's cute. Along with, I don't know... your jeans."

"I have plenty jeans, Nance."

"The dark blue ones. Holes in the knees?" Nancy re-jogs my memory as I nodded, grabbing the pair of jeans she had mentioned and roll them out of the tight fold. Then I grabbed the orange shirt and threw the two articles of clothing onto my bed behind me. "And don't wear a coverup. Sure, it's cold outside, but you'll be sweating by the time you step in there."

"Plus, I'll end up losing it anyway."


"Okay. I'll be ready in, like, ten."

"Be there in five."

Thirty minutes later, Nancy and you walked into Steve Harrington's mansion and she turned to you. You could see the worry and regret written across her face as you sighed. Resting your hands on her shoulders, you squeezed them slightly and looked into her eyes. "Let's go find something to drink, yeah?"

Nodding slowly, Nancy took your hand and you led her into the kitchen. Where you found Steve.

"Ladies! You made it," Steve slung an arm around your waist as he gripped a plastic red cup. "Drinks are in the fridge," a cigarette was loosely placed between his middle and index finger as he smiled at you. Leaning down, Steve whispered in your ear, "I'm glad you're here,

"Me too," you smiled back. Nothing — that you knew of — was going on between you and Steve. Though, it was obvious that he had some interest in you, whether it be totally platonic or the exact opposite. Either or would work for you, but you'd prefer the second.

Taking the cigarette from his fingers, you placed it between your teeth and looked up at him, biting down on it. Nancy had been called over to the living room by another one of her friends, leaving you alone with Steve. Which was no problem to you.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Hm?" you blew out a puff of smoke, looking at the boy.

"You're staring," a smirk fell upon his lips and you rolled your eyes, your back leaning against the counter. "I don't blame you, though. I'd like to think I look pretty decent tonight. As do you."

"That would be an understatement," you said through gritted teeth as the cigarette hung from your lips. You took it out and held it between your thumb and index finger. "You look good."

Bringing a hand up, you ran your hand through his hair and he smiled. Apparently, you were the only one who could touch his hair. "How long does this take? An hour, at least," you pulled your fingers away as he took the cigarette from your fingers, only for you to steal the red cup from him and down the mystery liquid inside.

"Hour and a half. On a good day," he teased and you couldn't tell if he was serious or not. You smiled. Bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, Steve took your hand in his and pulled you closer. "Y/N?"


"You look really good tonight, too."

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