SAID TOO MUCH, IT OVERFLOWED.

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

STARCROSSED (book one).
°•        CHAPTER FIFTEEN        •°

"        GOD, I HOPE IT'S
A FUCKING LIZARD.       "

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

ELIJAH WOLFHART ALWAYS STRUGGLED TO UNDERSTAND WHEN ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. The same way that the dark could swallow the Earth whole when the sun went down. Or how pouring too much liquid into a cup would only cause a mess at the end to clean. He wasn't afraid to ever test the limits laid before him. It's one of the reasons why he let anger control his every move (like when he pounded in Lewis's face) or love with all of his shattered heart (what he did for Steve, Nevaeh, everyone). Elijah didn't grasp the understanding of how pouring so much love into everyone, into everything he did, would only leave him empty in the end until that emptiness filled with rage.

Then what the hell was he supposed to do when it spilled and drenched everyone in its path?

Elijah wondered how dangerous it was when fear was in the mix. He feared his nails would rip into his denim pants with how tightly he was squeezing his thigh, aching to feel the pinch so that he could feel fucking anything because he wasn't the only one who knew when enough was enough. The world did too. Hawkins, specifically. Elijah thought a single fully-grown Demogorgon kidnapping Will Byers, devouring Barbara Holland and others, tormenting his nightmares, would be enough.

It wasn't.

Dustin had been rambling about what happened for what felt like hours. Elijah was going to strangle the shithead eventually or kick the back of his seat. He doesn't know what was worse. The talking or the silence. It all was making his head throb and the adjustment to his new medicine didn't help. Elijah was sick and tired of hearing about monsters. One just had to come back, right? He couldn't move on. Running away wasn't an option.

And yet, all Elijah can think of to keep him calm was how he forgot to make supper at the Wolfhart household.

"Wait a sec," Steve spoke up after pondering his thoughts. He turned the knob of his radio and brought the tune of Hammer to Fall to a quieter level so they could talk. "How big?"

Dustin held his pointer finger and thumb apart a few inches. "First it was like that..." He lifted his other hand and brought his palms a foot or two apart. "... Now he's like this."

A pause. Then Steve rolls his eyes and glances at the windshield again. "I swear to God, man, it's just some little lizard, okay?" He protests.

"God, I hope it's a fucking lizard," Elijah groans. He tries to loosen the grip he has on himself. He can squash the fuck out of a lizard. But a Demogorgon? Again?

"It is." Elijah's eyes flicker up and see Steve's calm, brown eyes now locked on him through the mirror. "It is, Eli," he repeats. It almost works. Almost.

But Dustin quickly tears it all down. "It's not a lizard!"

Their voices quickly rise and bounce off one another. "How do you know?"

"How do I know if it's not a lizard?"

"Yeah, how do you know it's not a lizard?!"

"Because his face opened up and he ate my cat!"

Another awkward silence. Elijah sucks in a breath through his teeth that begin to grit. The talk about monsters returning to Hawkins and growing - eating cats at that - was starting to get under his skin. He was itching to reach for Jonathan and Nancy even though they weren't there. He didn't plan on fighting another monster without them. Elijah wishes more than anything, tipping the glass, that they were here.

A cigarette would help too. Elijah can feel the box becoming squished under his weight from where it rests in his back pocket. But he isn't about to light a stick in front of this pipsqueak who would breathe in his secondhand smoke. It could wait.

The Henderson's house comes into view and Elijah's heart pounds. It's a beautiful place with a flickering, golden light shining above the porch. But it's ominous when he knows something evil is lurking just behind the residence, waiting to sink carnivorous teeth into skin. Elijah wonders if it could hear his heartbeat since it was attracted to blood. That's how they drew it into its demise the first time. He clenches his hand and imagines the scar on his palm pinching.

They pile out of Steve's car one by one. Elijah is the last. It feels as if he's taken hours to open his door. He tries to tell himself this is what he's made to do repeatedly but the question remained - why? Why was it Elijah who had to be Hawkins's armor? He owed the town nothing. Not even the dirt beneath his sneakers. So why was it him that had to suck it up, secretly fight their monsters, never tell a soul about it, and endure the heavy traumatic shit it causes all on his own? It wasn't fair.

But life wasn't fair. Elijah inhales and steps out of the car.

Dustin had already joined Steve as the owner of the vehicle pops open his trunk. He flicks the ring of his car keys around his finger and tosses them to the kid. The oh-so-familiar bat is yanked out by its wooden handle. Steve kinda got, well, attached after he cracked the wonky nails into the Demogorgon last year. Jonathan didn't seem too sad to let it go, hopeful no more monsters were waiting, so at least it could bring some usefulness here.

The bat bounces in Steve's tight grip as Dustin guides them around his house until they reached his backyard. Elijah frowns and scans the dark field. There isn't much. Some old, childhood toys scattered around probably belonging to this Henderson kid, a couple of weeds sprouting from the soil, but he isn't going to bash in the brains of a horrid creature with a frisbee or a plant. Even his fists probably wouldn't be useful.

"Kid, what else you got back here? A gardening tool or something?" Elijah requests as they trudge across the grass. Dustin glances at him curiously. "Listen, shortstack, if Steve's the only one armed, we're all fucked - "

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve asks, insulted at the jab towards him. He defends, "I saved your bacon last year!"

"After you ran away like a pu - "

Dustin claps his hands before Elijah could finish. "Hey, hey!" He calls. "Fine. One sec, Eli." He turns on his flashlight and disappears for a minute. A minute too long. Most of Hawkins should know better than to leave a Harrington and a Wolfhart alone together.

But when Dustin returns with a heavy object in his hands, Elijah takes one look with the light that Steve beams on him, and his eyes glimmer with excitement. Mischief, Steve would describe. An ax. Dustin was bringing him an ax. The wooden handle was long enough for him to hold it with both hands, heavy enough to remind him it was there as he held it, but light enough that it wouldn't be a problem to wield. Elijah spun the wood so the back of the handle could rest on his shoulder as he propped it up.

They come to a slow stop above the closed doors of a garden shed. A silver lock keeps the chain holding the handles shut. Dustin wearily kept his distance behind Elijah as Steve toed one of the doors with the tip of his sneaker. "I don't hear shit," he says.

"He's in there," Dustin insists.

The metal doors are poked at with Steve's bat. Nothing but an eerie silence. Steve swipes his tongue across his lower lip and delivers another hit, stronger than the last. The force causes the doors to rattle and a quiet bang to echo inside. Still, nothing signals that a lizard with a taste for cats was lingering inside.

Steve swung to face Dustin and shone the flashlight in his eyes as if they were in an interrogation. Dustin winces as he's threatened, "Alright, listen, kid. I swear if this is some sort of Halloween prank... You're dead."

"It's not. It's not a prank," Dustin presses. He squints his eyes. "Get it out of my face."

Then Steve asks the final question Elijah had been dreading. "You got a key for this thing?"

They swap the torch for the key. Elijah's clasp on his weapon tightens. He's ready to swing if that thing comes charging as Steve carefully peels one door back. They brace themselves, but the same quietness greets them. The left door is next. Nothing. And the unknown is somehow worse than that thing attacking. Elijah doesn't think he could possibly let his guard down for a second. If he does, it'll strike. And he refuses to be an animal in the corner.

"Let me see that," Steve demands with an outstretched hand.

"He must be further down there," Dustin suggests as Steve crouches. He shines the light across the stack of stairs, but it's no use. They can't know for sure unless...

Ha. Fat fucking chance, Elijah thinks. "I can stay up here in case he tries to escape," he offers. Steve shot him a glare as Elijah lowers the ax with a blinding, sarcastic grin. He balances the blade into the soil and leans his weight onto his cross arms over the tip of the handle. He casts Steve a mock salute. "Best of luck, soldier."

A huff passes Steve's lips. He crosses his arms, one balancing the bat and the other holding the wobbling torch, cautiously taking a few steps down. Elijah listens each time his feet hit the concrete. His fear had long started rising with the noise, terrified he'd hear either the splat of a monster's feet as it races towards one of them or teeth ripping skin.

Well, better Steve than them...

"Steve?" Dustin calls nervously into the hole. He takes a small step forward. "Steve, what's going on down there?"

Elijah immediately shot his arm out before Dustin could crawl down the steps and decide he was Steve's knight in shining armor as well as a chew toy. "Stay right there, shortstack," he orders.

The kid's face twists into an adorable scowl. "Quit calling me that!"

Elijah fears for his ankles.

He'd almost forgotten how afraid he really was until the flash of Steve's torch scares the hell out of the both of them as he rounds the corner. "Get down here," he orders.

Elijah doesn't know whether to be relieved or horrified because Steve wouldn't be demanding they joined him if there was something down there. So the cellar was empty, wasn't it? But if Dustin was insistent on having captured it, then they were in deep shit.

The bat's only usage was holding a putrid material of a yellow color, slimy, drops of its ooze leaking onto the concrete. Elijah gags. It reminds him of the same reaction he had when the damp gate he crawled through nearly trapped him in the Upside Down. He had no idea what the fuck that was but he needed it miles away from him like right now.

"Oh, shit," Dustin swore.

Then Steve used the bat to point at the wall before them.

Dustin's voice rose into a panic as he repeats, "Oh, shit!"

The path led to the brick wall which should've been sturdy enough to keep any animal trapped inside. But not a Demogorgon. The bricks have crumbled from being ripped out of their concrete slate. A hole was messily made, deep enough that bits of soil had spilled, and Elijah can see pieces of roots sticking out when he sunk to his knees for a closer look.

"It can't," he whispers because he desperately wants to believe it. "It can't... It can't be back." Elijah is begging the world to understand that the glass was full. He's had enough. He can't do this again.

But the world doesn't seem to care what Elijah Wolfhart wants. Hawkins is going to swallow him whole if that's what it took for him to grasp the knowledge that this wasn't over.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Elijah Wolfhart is messed up after everything. Yeah, that's the excuse he uses because he must be out of his mind. He surely was. Because he can't find any other explanation as to why he's landed himself at the empty Harrington household with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, smoke seconds away from filling his lungs, keeping him from curling into a ball on the floor with tears streaming down his cheeks. His knees were already wobbling as he toes his sneakers off before crossing the carpet. It was a dangerous sign. Elijah had a hunch it was because all of the lights were off. He half-expected something horrible to pop out and attack him.

That's why he couldn't be alone. Elijah would often rather be isolated than with Steve Harrington of all people, but Jonathan and Nancy were still missing, his father was likely at work, and he wasn't getting along with Nevaeh at the moment. And Elijah thought being alone meant being in the Upside Down where the Demogorgon was waiting.

God, he couldn't believe this shit was happening all over again.

The stick dangles from Elijah's lower lip as he mumbles, "Can... Can you turn the - the uh, lights on? Please?"

Steve doesn't question it and Elijah's grateful for that. He fiddles with a couple of switches and the bulbs above them fill the rooms with lights. Elijah releases a quiet sigh of relief.

"You know it'll be okay, right?" Steve reminds him softly. Elijah cringes at the sound of his voice. "We'll figure it out. We will."

"Don't... Don't feed me that bullshit, Harrington." Elijah retrieves the lighter in his pocket and flicks the switch. He nearly feeds the cigarette to the flame when Steve makes a noise behind him and stops suddenly. "What?"

"Mom will chew me out if she smells cigarettes when she comes back. I told her I quit." Steve's eyes are apologetic and hold something else, something longing, as they eye the cigarette between Elijah's lips. "Are you okay if we go outside?"

Elijah nods. It doesn't seem like a problem. Steve's back porch has a light anyways plus the moonlight bounces off the pool's crystal water. It's enough light for him even if it doesn't spill over the rim. He doesn't see any issues until they reach the glass door that Steve seemed hesitant to tug open. His gaze had locked onto the pool outside.

The pause brought Elijah to eye him carefully. He's known since they were young that there's one other person to walk this Earth who hates being alone as much as he does. His parents didn't seem to care since their work was much more important than raising their child. They would spend days leaving Steve in the care of a nanny or babysitter, days that Elijah and he would take advantage of. It almost could've felt like one of those times - you know, if they weren't swamped with terror, eighteen, and there wasn't a rift between them caused by a betrayal.

But Steve isn't alone. At least, not at the moment. Elijah's fingers twitch with the urge to grab his hand and squeeze it, but he fights it off, instead asking, "What's wrong?"

"Just..." Steve Harrington, The Steve Harrington, King Steve, pokes at the rug with his socked foot. He's afraid, nervous. "The pool. It's been hard seeing it since..."

Since Barb died in it, Elijah finishes for him in his head.

It's difficult for Elijah to remember he isn't alone in this. Nancy still sleeps with the lights on. Jonathan hated the bat so much that he gave it to Steve. Nevaeh turned to something stronger because she couldn't control her abilities. Will still pays visits to Doctor Owens along with her. And Steve? A girl died at his house because she attended his pool party. He had to save his ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend from a monster twice his size. And he's alone with these thoughts almost every single day.

Elijah thinks about the ax and bat in the trunk of Steve's car. He wonders if having them would help them feel safer.

Long story short, they do. Steve is at ease once they're retrieved once more and rested against the pool chairs they lounged in. Elijah feels his muscles loosen as he lays back, admires the water of the pool so bright it was practically glowing, and inhales the poison of a cigarette. He knows it's bad for him, but so is overflowing your cup, fighting monsters, and hanging around people like Steve Harrington, so.

Elijah knows Steve's eyes are locked on him as he puckers his lips and blows a smoke ring. He watches the ghastly color float in its shape before fading into the air. He lazily lolls his head onto his shoulder, barely catching Steve's gaze as he quickly turns away, flushed. "I don't have to smoke if it bothers you. Just tell me," Elijah insists. He curls his fingers around the stick and prepares to flick it away.

"No, it's okay. I know it's keeping you calm," Steve replies. He sighs wistfully and stretches his legs. "Just makes me miss them."

Smoke blows from Elijah's nose as his lips spread into a thin smile. He can't remember the last time that Steve made him smile. "You were always more of a dick when you were smoking, anyways," he jabs. His brown eyes subtly scan the other. "Preppy asshole, wearing ironed pastel polos with your collars popped but calling me the fa - "

"Okay!" Steve cut him off and threw his hands up. "Okay, I deserved that. But pick your poison, Eli, who's the bigger dick - me or Billy Hargrove?"

Elijah's breath got caught in his chest and he nearly chokes on the smoke he inhaled. "Ha! Isn't a fucking competition. Billy Hargrove, no question." If that asshole was on fire, he'd casually sip water beside him. His thumb tweaks the edge so the ashes flutter to the concrete below them. The words even surprised him. Maybe before Billy rolled into town, Elijah would've said Steve. Maybe if Steve wasn't giving it his all, trying every day for atonement, he would've picked him.

Words start to fall before Elijah could control them. He can't help it when he could drown in the thoughts that spill and flood his brain. "You know what's fucked?" Steve hums, urging Elijah to continue. He bitterly scoffs. "Billy can grow a - a mullet, right? Let his hair curl past his shoulders and it's no big deal. Women think it's hot. But, but I had to cut my hair, right? Because mine was inappropriate." Elijah's nose pinches like something sour had found its way to his tastebuds. "I wasn't supposed to braid it. I couldn't even keep it. But Billy fucking Hargrove can work a mullet, right?"

Steve frowns deeply. Elijah wonders if he remembers, too, just how long his hair was. It was well taken care of, deep raven strands either hung close to his chest or pulled into two separate braids. Tobia Wolfhart helped his son understand their history, why men like them weren't alike to other people, and taught his son that having such hair would promote the strength he carried. Yet when they couldn't take the stares and taunting anymore, Tobia still brought his son to clip it away.

"Fuck that," Steve spat as if he was in a state of disbelief at how Elijah was treated, blind to it. "You've never cared what anyone thought of you."

And he's right. To an extent. There's a lot Steve won't possibly understand about Elijah because he has yet to be in his shoes. He's white, for starters. Steve has never been called a slur or degraded for his race and the culture that came with it. He can't understand something he's never been through. Besides that, he's the one who forced Elijah to be comfortable with himself. He didn't have a choice once he was yanked out of the closet. If he showed any shame about being gay, it would all be over.

So Elijah never did. He cried and cried about it, the pain of betrayal drowning him, but never let a classmate see him shed a single tear. He gloated, didn't hold back, flashed his middle finger when need be, and didn't give a fuck what anyone had to say. Because if you show them you'll fight back, they'll become cowards. Elijah embraced the parts of himself he couldn't change. He eventually grew to love them even when were like the pointed ends of stars, burrowing under his skin.

Sometimes, Elijah realizes, it's not about what happened to you. It's about how you handle it.

Elijah stiffens before he could control it. He wishes the thought never occurred to him. It was like swallowing shards of glass. He could hate Steve forever. He really could and no one could blame him for that. Steve handled what happened between them in his own twisted way because he was scared, he didn't understand. Elijah feels as if he's gulping down the blood left behind and it leaves a lump in his throat.

God, he wanted to forgive Steve.

Suddenly, Elijah hisses at the burn that singed his pointer finger. He didn't notice his forgotten cigarette continued to burn until the glowing ash reached his skin. He quickly drops it and gives his hand a wave to kiss away the sting with cool air.

"Are you okay?" Steve questions, sat up. His eyebrows furrow with concern.

"I'm fine." Elijah rubs his skin with the pad of his thumb. He takes a deep breath of fresh air instead of smoke and asks, "Can I use your phone? I have to call Nevaeh, make sure she's okay. I'll be long ready for bed after."

Steve nods. His permission brought Elijah to push himself onto his feet, the lounge chair left behind. He grinds the sole of his shoe into the lit cigarette until it's dust before heading back inside, grateful the lights were left on. He found the phone easily enough and brought the speaker to squeeze between his shoulder and ear, fiddling with the buttons to dial his house phone. Elijah anxiously waits as the tone rung through the speaker, once, twice, too many times before a voice finally comes through.

"Hello?"

Elijah releases his breath. "Jesus, 'vaeh. Everyone's MIA. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Nevaeh says, confused. Her voice slowly starts to harden. "Where are you? You were getting dinner then - "

Elijah slaps his palm over his forehead. He hasn't thought about the meat since he was sitting in the back of Steve's car. It was probably long spoiled by now (just like Nevaeh's attitude, which he's long over, but whatever). "I'm okay. Did you find something to eat? Dad, too?" Elijah asks quietly. He doesn't tell her the truth. He can't. Nevaeh would lose it after just getting her life in control. They can deal with it quietly. Before she knows it, it'll be over.

He hears his sister scoff in annoyance before she answers. "Peanut butter and jelly."

"You're allergic to nuts, you little - "

"Take a joke. We cracked open a can of Spaghetti O's." Nevaeh pauses. The silence is so deafening that Elijah could hear her breathe in through her nostrils and swallow. It's a tick, she's uneasy about something the same way he was. As if she was hiding something too. Elijah frowns and anxiously twirls the cord connected to the phone between his pointer and middle finger but before he can speak, Nevaeh does. "I have to go. Doctor Owens called before you did about something important. I was about to head for Hawkins Lab."

A pause, and then, "If you come home tonight, deciding to care about someone other than yourself, there's a bowl in the fridge for you."

Then the line goes dead. The sound from the speaker pierces his eardrum. Elijah is left on the other end, wordlessly processing what cold words Nevaeh had spewed at him. They rung afterwards long in his head. He found himself frozen in his spot, cheek still pressing the phone into his shoulder, and paralyzed fingers still twisted around the springy cord. Tears slowly pool in his eyes once it all hit him, overwhelming to the brink of his breaking point.

That wasn't fair.

Yet, Elijah couldn't speak those words. It wouldn't matter if he did. Nevaeh wouldn't have heard him. They were too alike in these ways. Surging out cruel words that they didn't mean, anger driving them to do so, and sometimes an apology wouldn't make it okay, but for the Wolfhart siblings... Sometimes it was easier to ignore what was overspilling even when it was rage and hurtful spats.

Nevaeh thought he was selfish. That hurt. She thought so because Elijah was afraid when it came to leaving her alone. He refused to report Lewis's assault. He didn't come home after a cold fight and refused to even meet her eyes since they both refused to apologize. And for everything else, everything Elijah had sacrificed, she had her eyes closed to witness. He would take a bullet and bleed out for her. He would do anything for Nevaeh. Anything.

People like the Wofhart's didn't know when enough was enough. It was dangerous when two hotheads couldn't comprehend so.

He hears footsteps behind him and nearly jumps out of his skin. Steve's voice carries as Elijah quickly gathers himself and finally slams the phone onto the receiver, blinking furiously. Steve's completely oblivious to the conversation happening moments before, speaking without a single care in the world, "I'm beat. Dude, it's almost midnight. We're gonna have to get Dustin once the sun comes up, take care of that - " He cuts himself off, pausing. "Are you - are you alright, man?" Steve asks, hesitant. The last time Elijah had gotten off the phone with Nevaeh with Steve a few feet away, he nearly got his ass kicked for daring to push the question.

Elijah lifts his head. Steve was stripped of his denim coat and his hands were empty. Were their weapons still outside?

Safety didn't feel so out of reach when Steve Harrington was looking at him like that. Elijah doesn't say so, instead, he nods and makes a weak attempt of a smile. He pushes all thoughts of Nevaeh, of monsters, out of his mind. "Yeah. I'm just tired."

"Well, your throne awaits, Eli."

Maybe Steve assumed doing so was okay. There was nothing wrong with it. And maybe it was wrong that Elijah did too. But he can't help it when nightmares are close enough to touch, plaguing his what could be just normal dreams almost every night, and the last time he felt safe was when Steve was an inch away. If Nevaeh was going to be at the Lab, and Tobia was going to be at work, while Nancy and Jonathan were missing, Elijah wouldn't have been able to say no this time if he tried. He can't be alone. The silence would've been enough to drive him mad.

They're close enough in Steve Harrington's bed that a gap was also long enough. There's no point in trying to save themselves from falling into it and preserving any dignity, no. That was long over. Elijah had stopped trying to fight it and tried to embrace it even when it was scary, like the feeling of hugging thorns. Sometimes the pain was long worth the love and he wondered when it would stop hurting.

It's tragic and incredible all at the same time when they fall into place, into each other. Elijah huffs with relief. Instead of facing each other, he had fallen onto his side, slightly bouncing off the thick mattress. Steve embraces him from his back without a word. He can't see the way that the other burrows into the pillow to hide his smile when his arms squeeze his ribs, their legs tucked into one another.

Words don't come as fast as sleep does. They've already spoken a thousand for the last few hours. And when Elijah's head hits the pillow, he can't stop replaying them. It's better than fighting monsters, at least.

He missed his best friends.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It's sadly lucky how things were working out for them. The spoiled meat wasn't rotten enough to stink, but bad enough to no longer be edible. It ended up being a great use for luring what they were hunting out. Elijah wonders if he would've been blissfully ignorant to everything raging on if he didn't go grocery shopping that day, didn't get in Steve Harrington's car, didn't run into Dustin Henderson, and didn't find out oh right, those evil things lurking in the dark that have a taste for flesh are back.

At least it's only one of them. One they could handle.

They swing by to grab Dustin who sits in the backseat with a pout. Elijah wasn't giving up his front seat for nobody, but they have to continue on foot anyway. Yellow gloves roll to their elbows as they stuff the unthawed meat from Steve's trunk into three buckets. A gasoline tank sloshed as Steve let it fall to his feet.

The truth was, Elijah didn't think setting it on fire again would do the trick. Steve and him both say what happened last time. Eleven sacrificed herself for her friends to kill it. But maybe it would be different this time, if they could catch it while it was still small. Besides, it was the only plan they had.

"Dustin!" A sudden voice calls from Dustin's walkie-talkie that he hooked up to a loose pair of headphones. "This is Lucas! Do you copy? Dustin?"

Dustin spun, hands on his hips, tutting, "Well, well, well. Look who it is."

"Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off," Lucas explained.

"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again. He escaped and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgon."

"Wait, what?!"

"I'll explain later. Meet Steve, Elijah, and I at the old junkyard."

Lucas exclaims as if Dustin had lost his mind, "Steve?!"

"And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket," Dustin instructs, enjoying the question.

"Steve Harrington? Elijah Wolfhart?"

The use of his first and last name makes Elijah roll his eyes. He grabs the last thing they need from the trunk, his ax, as Steve tucks his bat into his bag. Elijah slams the door shut. "Alright, let's go," Steve decides.

"Just be there, stat. Over and out," Dustin announces before switching his walkie off.

The trio grab a bucket each. Elijah allows it to way at his side as he storms into the woods behind Dustin, mind overfilling with every way this could go wrong as he jabs a finger into the kid's shoulder and demands, "And you, shortstack, have a lot of explaining to do."

━━━━━━━━

author's note:

hi guys!! long time no see!! i cannot remember the last time i wrote elijah and i missed him so very much. this chapter starts off kinda slow but definitely kicks off and the next chapter is gonna be EXQUISITE!! but this chapter still hit me in the heart.

i feel as if the talk about elijah's hair is very important. he's a native american character, who's culture believes long hair (with men, specially) is shown with strength. elijah had long hair for awhile, but given the 80's time - and even today - native men are shamed for having long hair and often cut it so the taunting stops. elijah calls out the fact that billy is white and everyone around him thinks he's hot with his long hair. bullshit. dont forget.

elijah being the grumpy dad back at it again. hates kids bur also wont smoke in front of dustin bc he worries he'll inhale it too :'(

all these cuddling scenes are also making my stelijah (is that their ship name? idk) heart soft. also please dont be mean to nevaeh. i've had conversations with my younger siblings that i inspire her off of. they always say hurtful things they dont mean, and i've been told they saw me as selfish for a long time because it looked like i was putting myself first (as i should be). all will be well soon.

thank you so very much for reading!! i'm already excited to write the next chapter!! ❤️

- koda

.•° ✿ °•.
WORD COUNT:
5.1k.
°•. ✿ .•°