Rebel, Rebel - Jim Hopper x Reader

vii. Blind Love

You bedroom smelled of a perfectly blended mixture of hairspray and flowery Chanel perfume as you styled your hair in your vanity mirror. A record was playing in the corner of your room as you attempted to perfect your backcombed half-up hair-do, trying to pull together your ensemble perfectly. Though you tried your best not to overthink anything, the truth was that you were practically shitting yourself with how nervous you were. You wanted to look as perfect as possible, especially since there was a strong possibility that you and Hopper would be...well, you didn't want to jinx anything, but you were apprehensive nonetheless.

You had been extremely lucky when Hopper told you he would be wearing a navy bowtie tonight, as you only had about four formal dresses on retainer, and one of them thankfully matched and fit your body just right. After checking to make sure that your makeup was applied perfectly, you walked over to your closet to retrieve the off-shoulder swing dress that your mother had bought you a few years back for a wedding. It was wrapped in lace fabric, much softer than usual thanks to the hefty usage of fabric softener your mother washed it in.

You wrapped the dress around your body and slid your feet into a matching pair of tall stiletto kitten heel pumps. You looked into your mirror and smiled warmly at yourself, mostly at an attempt to calm your nerves.

"Oh, wow," came a whisper from the doorway.

You turned around and smiled softly at your mother, motioning to your dress, "How does it look?"

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," she sighed, walking over and brushing your hair off of your shoulders. "I think I have something that could make it better, though."

She removed her hand from behind her back and presented to you a matching set of pearl jewelry, one necklace and matching studs.

"Oh, mom," you gasped, taking them in between your fingers. "Are you sure?"

"I wore them for my senior prom," she smiled. "This is no prom, but...I know how excited you are for it, so..."

You pressed a kiss to her cheek, a small amount of your red lipstick rubbing off onto her skin, "I'm really nervous."

As your mother took the pearls from your hand and began to put them over and around your neck, she chuckled, "Why? You and Hopper have been friends for, what? Ten years now?"

"It's different now," you whispered, sliding the pearl earrings through your earlobes. "I...well, 'friends' is kind of a grey area now with him."

"I remember when your father asked me out," she chuckled, spinning you around to look at your face. "It was a weird feeling. We had known each other since we were kids, so it was weird transitioning from that. But...we both knew that we loved each other. So...it came naturally to us after a few hours. And when I say things got steamy, I mean-"

"-Yeah, nope we aren't doing that," you interrupted with a grimace. "Thank you, Mom."

"Of course," she smiled sweetly at you. "Not to alarm you, but Hopper has been down stairs for the past ten minutes."

"What?" you exclaimed, rushing to grab your clutch before moving past your mom towards your door.

"He didn't want you to rush," she replied with a chuckle, grabbing your shoulder. "I think he's trying to get buddy-buddy with your father. You know, make a good impression. They're watching the game downstairs."

"...but Hopper hates football," you replied with a puzzled expression.

"But he loves you," she corrected, patting you on the back.

You blushed darkly before walking out of your bedroom and slowly descending the stairs, the sound of your heels clicking against the wooden planks.