Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Let's talk till 2 am about life and our problems."
°°°
- THE HEADPHONES THAT covered your ears, blasting a classic 'Red Hot Chili Peppers' song, blocking the whole world out. You watched how the street lights flicker back and forth, how the fall leaves scattered around everywhere, the chilly air nipping your skin. You pulled your jacket sleeves over your hands, humming the lyrics to 'Under The Bridge'.
You didn't hear Steve climb to the top, his exhausted eyes boring into the back of your head, a sigh of relief emitting from his mouth at the sight of you. He takes a seat next to you, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, taking another out for you. As the last verse of the song is finally over, you take your headphones off, setting them down next to your outer thigh, then face Steve.
He looks so broken.
You wanted to speak, but your tongue felt dry and your hands started to shake slightly. Mild anxiety seemed to course through your veins, but when his soft, brown eyes meet yours, you relax at his gaze.
"You gonna take the cigarette or what?" He quietly mumbles, placing the cig in your shaken hand. "What are you doing up here when it's 1:00 in the morning?" Shrugging, you let him light up the cigarette, then put it to your lips, taking a drag.
"I could ask you the same thing, Harrington. Is it Nancy again? Maybe your gold 'ol friend Tommy? Seriously don't know why you hang out with fools like Carol and Tommy, their just dragging 'ya down." Steve didn't say anything but stare at the earth floor, eyebrows creasing. You put your cig out, tossing it to the ground below you.
"No, it's not them." He begins, rather harshly. "I-I can't sleep, (Y/N). I've been seeing those, those things. Their in my mind replaying like a broken record, tearing at my damn thoughts and I fucking hate it. I don't want to see them anymore." His voice breaks, but he clears his throat, obviously not wanting to 'ruin' his toughness act.
"Huh, welcome to the club," He glares at you when you say this and you crack a small smile. "Anyways, those things are in my mind, too. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here." You pause, biting your lip. "Let's talk till 2 am about life and our problems." Steve shakes his head, merely chuckling dryly.
"My problem is sleep. I'm tired as hell and sleep sounds amazing right now." You lean back as he continued on about how the Demogorgon's constantly invade his thoughts. You breath softly, eyes shut together, listening on and off about his story on how he caught Nancy with Jonathan - wait, isn't this suppose to be about the Demogorgon?
"Whoa, hold up, you said it's got nothing to do with Nancy. Should've known that wasn't true," Sitting back up, you glance at the distress boy, who ran a hand through his messy hair, groaning in frustration.
"I care about her, okay? But- goddamnit I don't know what to do, I'm a shitty boyfriend!" Rolling your eyes, you grab his hand, forcing him to lay back with you, shoulders touching. "W-what are you doing?" Steve stutters as he gazes at your hands; which were still clutching his.
"Watching the stars, what does it look like? You seriously need to chill, just relax and look up. Now, take a deep breath, and talk slowly and calmly." You always knew how to get him to calm down, or how to talk to him when he needed it most. You were always there, and when it came to you, he made sure he was there for you, too.
"I care for her, but," He carries on, swallowing hard, "she's not the one I need," you turn to him, confusion written along your features. Steve smiles.
"You're the one I need,"
A/N
Should I do a part two to this, or?... Just imagine talking to Steve really late at night, watching the stars while sitting on the rooftop, that would be great. Anyways, hope 'ya enjoyed!
