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STEVE
THE RAIN POURED FROM ABOVE AS IF SOMEBODY UP THERE WAS WRINGING OUT A TOWEL. They were on the rooftop of a section of Starcourt Mall, peering at what was perhaps a Russian exchange of suspicious substances. Except there was also a chance they were wrong. And a member of their huddle was sick. The mood was overall tense, with all of them scared, but not wanting to admit it.
"I still don't think you should be here," Steve said over his shoulder to Katie, who was also squinting through the downpour. They were all squeezed up against each other, but Steve had put himself closer to her because she was having a chill (no other reason). They were wearing scrunchy rain jackets that made crackling noises every time they moved. "You'll get worse,"
"I disagree on that," she said in response, huddling herself closer to her jacket. Steve rolled her eyes at her stubbornness, though inside he was glad she was here. Like an ice pack. "But I agree on the first part; we all shouldn't be here,"
"Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes," Robin said loudly over the pattering of droplets. They really couldn't, since it was literally impossible to see.
"I'm cold as hell," Katie muttered under her breath, clearly intending it to be only to herself, yet Steve heard her. Sympathy and worry curdled in his chest like a newborn elixir, as he shuffled a length closer and wrapped his arm around her. She looked up at him, grey eyes alight with surprise and warmth. He grinned back down, thriving in the way her full lips gently curled up from that angle. "This is too dangerous,"
Raindrops soaked her face, like sprinkles to a cupcake. Her cheeks and forehead were dotted with acne scars from a range of years ago, little hollows, dents, and bumps scattered over her slightly freckled skin. They were the finishing details to her marble, textures that made her character. They were like the dents on the moon, the different-sized roundish craters on its silver-grey surface, adding a thousand layers to her glow.
"They're with that whistling guy, ten o'clock," Dustin yelled, looking through his binoculars, which he kept getting water onto the lenses with.
A skinny dude wearing a knee-length rubber raincoat brought a stack of boxes marked with vague logos on a red cart in front of the guys standing guard.
"What do you think's in there?" he asked.
"Chinese food?"
"Guns, bombs?"
"Chemical weapons?"
" Whatever it is, they're armed to the teeth." Dustin said seriously.
"Great. Just great," Steve said, closing his eyes to swipe at the water clinging to his eyelashes, also because of the startling flash of the beam of lightning.
"Maybe we should turn back," Katie said from his side. "I don't know...this seems a little above our pay grade,"
