𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 - the heart wants what it wants

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 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 positively alight with the news; his face had almost been torn in half thanks to the grin that had erupted upon his features. He'd hopped in place, wide eyes glistening as he spun in place, looking each and every way until his eyes landed upon the stores, and clock, that had led both Scarlet and Robin to cracking the code.

 They had all been buzzing with anticipation for the remainder of the day — though, for Dustin, it was likely a mixture of excitement, as well as the boat load of sugar from the ice cream he'd been guzzling.

 They had their answer; when blue meets yellow in the west — quarter to nine. They had been wringing their hands all day, impatiently waiting for the time to come when they could finally slam the shutters of Scoops Ahoy closed, and trail their way to the rooftop.

 It had begun to thunder with rain, and thankfully Scarlet had enough sense to have always kept a couple of rain jackets snug within the trunk of her car; a pale sage-green one for herself, the pink one that Eleven would wear when trailing behind Steve in the woods, the yellow one Maxine had stuffed away, and one of Robin's that Scarlet had pinched on the way home one night; she'd been entirely unwilling to walk down the path of her friends home underneath the cover of rain.

 So now... now Scarlet, Steve, Robin and Dustin were all draped in colourful raincoats like a little band of school children on a trip atop the roof of Starcourt Mall. The rain tore at them, soaking the peeking skin of their faces, a light chill from the water biting at their already pink noses.

 Steve had managed to squeeze himself into Max's raincoat, while Dustin had pinched Elevens... they both looked a sight, indeed. Max's rain jacket was snug around Steve's arms, and he couldn't quite pull the zip as high as it should have gone... but at least his back and head were dry.

 Though he was mortified at the fact that he'd forgotten to fill his car with gas the night prior, and had walked into work this very morning. He'd be soaked by the time he'd get home.

 Scarlet was snug between Steve and Robin, while Dustin manned Steve's other side, hands firmly clasping his binoculars. It was surprising that he could see anything through the sopping rain and the overcast sky.

 Scarlet reached a hand around Steve, aimlessly tapping at Dustin's back as she rose her voice above the patter of rain, "Look for Imperial Panda or Kaufman shoes!"

 Dustin bobbed his head, fingers darting to the small hood keeping him dry as he held it in place while a ripple of wind threatened to pull it free. He peered through his binoculars, eyes scanning the multitude of delivery boxes... until another delivery guy split through the dark haze with a trolly stacked high with dripping wet boxes; the very ones he'd been searching for.

 Dustin bumped Steve's shoulder, "There, those boxes," He pointed a finger, keeping low against the small wall that gave them cover, "They're with that whistling guy, ten o'clock."

 Steve teetered closer, dark eyes narrowing, "What do you think is in there?"

 Scarlet could only imagine a plethora of weapons; why else would they use a code to keep their little group under wraps? Why else would a gaggle of Russians stow themselves away within a mall, of all places?

 Dustin spoke her very thoughts, "Guns, bombs?"

 "Chemical weapons?" Robin added.

 "Whatever it is, they're armed to the teeth."

 Scarlet took the moment to peer over the wall, eyes narrowed against the rain while dewdrops clung to her lashes and spilt down her cheeks. There were clumps of sodden hair stuck to her face, water sliding down each strand until cold droplets crawled down her neck. A shiver wracked her spine.

 The guards standing to and fro before the cluster of deliveries were, as Dustin had said, completely armed. Guns were slung over their shoulders, pistols holstered against their legs and waists... each of them was devoid of any emotion, each staring onwards through the night amidst their patrol.

 Scarlet wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting... sure she'd considered the idea of Russians and weapons, it was a logical conclusion; but to see them standing there, ready and willing to fire a shot at any intruders... she finally realised just how much of a mess they were tangling themselves within. Her eyes slipped to Dustin — he was just a kid.

 He'd been forced to defend himself and his friends from monsters, to be the brain that fit the pieces of a difficult puzzle together... but he didn't have to get involved this time. She almost scoffed, Dustin would always get involved, even if she pushed him back herself.

 Steve dragged a hand down his sopping face, water gushed from his cheeks and toppled back to the ground as he sighed. He couldn't believe they were doing this, spying on people with guns, "Great. That's — That's just great."

 There was a looming door behind the cluster of men below, a guard standing at attention upon either side... and as the door was pried open, the quartet atop the roof all peered closer. Robin's voice was but a whisper on her tongue, eyes sliding to Dustin, "Hey," she said, pointing towards the door still cracked open, "What's in there?"

 "Just more boxes," Dustin replied, hardly taking the time to stare further, for each and every box was the very same as the last; boring, brown, soaked and stamped with the Imperial Panda logo that could be spotted amidst the mall.

Apparently, it wasn't a good enough answer for Steve, who reached out to try his luck at snatching the binoculars from Dustin's hands. The younger of the two did his utmost to keep his slippery fingers clasped around them, ducking and weaving away from each of Steve's strikes.

 Scarlet rolled her eyes; they really were as bad as a couple of brothers.

 "Let me check it out!" Steve pushed, reaching once more. He received a slap to the tips of his fingers from a rather put-out Dustin.

 "No, I'm still looking."

 Their attempts at swatting one another only send droplets of chilly water soaring through the air. They landed upon Scarlet's cheek, one making its home atop her eyelid. She blinked furiously, grimacing at the sensation of water rolling down her night-bitten skin.

 She was ready to toss them both over the roof, or perhaps smoosh their faces within one of the murky puddles rippling by her side. It was, at this point, only natural to assume that steve and Dustin would pick the worst moment to bicker; they always did... but when there were Russian men stood only meters away with guns strapped to their bodies? They were idiots.

 "Shut up!" She hissed, yet neither paid any mind at all... until a hearty thud sounded out. Dustin's binoculars had slipped from his hands, sailed through the air, and clattered against the rain-slick ground.

 They all recoiled and Scarlet had taken hold of both Steve and Robin's wrists, tugging them closer to the ground so that not even a hair on their head could be seen beneath the lights the Russian had already directed their way. Steve had managed to shake one of his rapidly depleting brain cells into gear and swiftly took a fistful of Dustin's rain jacket, tugging him to safety alongside the rest of them.

 Their backs were planted against the wall, each of their chests rising and falling as the rain continued to pound against their fronts, seeping through their jackets and clinging to their already damp skin.

 Scarlet could feel Robin's hand rattling within her own whilst Steve's only tightened with every passing second. Their hearts were racing, skin buzzing with electricity as they did their best to keep their lips sealed firmly shut... they could just about hear the echo of heavy footsteps amidst the rainfall.

 Scarlet felt that swell within her gut, the bubble that came to life wherever danger was close by. Her hands grew warm, the tips of her fingers growing pinker and pinker as she felt her powers blossom like a flower just beneath the surface; ready to strike if needed.

 There was a sudden squeeze on one of her hands, fingers becoming enveloped in warmth. Steve. She tipped her head his way, clumps of sodden hair slipping to his shoulder as her temple found solace right by his neck. She echoed his actions, her thumb smoothing his damp skin.

 He had felt it — the warmth that had bloomed upon her skin. He knew what it meant, and he had hoped that the situation wouldn't call for her to light up the sky with a heavy crimson. He hated the blood that fell from her nose, he hated the way she'd stumble and wince when she'd push herself too far... but he knew that she would be their only way out if they were caught.

 If they were... if the Russians found them and held the barrels of their rifles right at their noses; Scarlet would have no choice. That was what terrified Steve the most. Not her power, not the Russians... knowing that she'd have to kill them, and then swallow the guilt of it after.

 He knew how much she struggled already — even if he wasn't privy to the details of her past.

 Their hands stayed firmly clasped whilst the thundering of rain pattered on. Scarlet could feel Steve's heart hammering, jolting her head with every little movement; his breath came in in warm puffs, smoothing over her forehead all the while they waited to be found...

 A clap of thunder tore through the sky, a rumbling sound followed by a flash of light. Each dark and miserable cloud could be seen beneath the spotlight, each twinkling star that struggled to break through the haze... Then, when all fell silent once more, the four trembling, sodden teens heard the Russians speak again; a bellow of an order that only Scarlet could properly make out.

 Robin had tossed her translation guide within the trunk of Scarlet's car, and both Steve and Dustin knew not a lick of Russian. So when the shout rang like the crack of thunder they'd all flinched beneath, Scarlet swallowed.

 'Watch the door.'

 That's what had been commanded, but that only meant that while someone was to be stationed down below, their back against the wall with their rifle tucked neatly upon their shoulder... another would be trailing into the night, searching deftly for the cause of the sound. They wouldn't simply scour the ground, Scarlet knew they weren't stupid enough. They'd soon find their way to the rooftop and have the barrels of their guns directed at the group trembling beneath the cover of rain.

 She knew they had to move, and now was their only chance.

 With her hands still collapsed within Steve and Robin's, Scarlet pried her head from Steve's shoulder. She missed the warmth that had so swiftly been replaced with a wet chill, she missed the scent of sugar that always clung to that silly uniform after a day's work of slinging and spilling, ice cream.

 She scrambled to her feet, keeping as low as she possibly could, all the while tugging her friends along. She glance back, sensing their hesitation, but with a single nod, they soon began to follow. Steve untangled their fingers, pushing Dustin forth, a heavy eye planted upon the kid's back.

 The door they'd previously slipped through was just ahead, and the moment it'd been quietly shut behind them, Scarlet had caught the smallest glimpse of a glint amidst the darkness. The gleam of moonlight caressing the metal barrel of a gun.

 Scarlet pushed the hood from her head, watching with a grimace as a puddle of water steadily pool beneath them all. She was sopping, even despite the raincoat. Her legs were smothered in water, legs growing a light shade of pink and purple while her fingertips glowed like ripe tomatoes.

 But they were safe... and with a small flick at the handle of the door, her finger's just barely alight with a shimmering blanket of crimson that... there was a slim chance the Russians would find their way to them.

 "Well..." she sighed. Scarlet flicked her hands to the side, watching with a frown as water clambered through the air and into a pitiful puddle on the ground. She looked to Dustin, a dew drop trailing down her cheek, "I think we found your Russians."

 Each of them was absolutely soaked by the time they'd managed to scout Scarlet's car; she watched forlornly as Robin's squelching shoes stepped inside, scooching over to make room for Dustin — Robin hadn't the chance to argue when Scarlet had demanded she drive each and every single one of them home; Dustin was not walking. Robin was not cycling in the rain. And she'd never let Steve slunk back home absolutely soaked to the bone, ready and waiting to receive whatever insults his father had prepared.

 Still, Scarlet felt her nose curl at the sight of Dustin's sopping shirt spraying water over her seats... At least Steve had tried his best to wring out his shorts and silly little sailor shirt before sliding into the passenger seat.

 They looked like a cluster of drowned rats.

 The heat was turned up, each occupant of the car sighing out in complete and utter relief as the cold finally let them go, as the chill in the air scuttled away... they all spouted theories around Scarlet — what were the Russians doing? Would they find weapons or... something else? Why Hawkins of all damned places?

 Scarlet had no answers, and yet her brain was clustered with a multitude of theories that wouldn't be resolved... unless they sought the answers themselves. The guard back on the roof... his footsteps had been loud, stomping through puddles, clattering against the roof... It had shaken her a little.

 It was strange, to have such a small situation rock her unsteady heart... but it all came down to Robin. Robin knew nothing of what had happened within the dreary little town of Hawkins; hell Robin probably thought the weirdest thing to have happened... was the fact that Steve was friends with a girl, or perhaps that Eddie 'the freak' Munson really thought that nobody knew he dealt drugs — he carried them around in his lunchbox for goodness sake.

 It wasn't like Scarlet could just... spill everything; she wasn't the only person to have been affected by the Demo-dogs, the Lab; she needed their OK too. Scarlet brushed the thought away; if the time came where her hands were required to flood with crimson flares, she'd oblige and explain herself later — hoping to God that Robin wouldn't turn her nose up and run for the hills.

 Dustin's home still had the lights on, and from the way the curtains jostled, it was easy to assume that Dustin's mother had been peering out of the window, awaiting his return home. She knew the sight of both Scarlet and Steve's cars by now and was more than used to flailing down the driveway to thank them both profusely for getting her little Dusty back home safe.

 Dustin had been deep in thought when the car slowed to a halt, headlights tearing through the overcast twilight. Rolling clouds still taunted from above, pelts of rain assaulting the windshield... He popped his head up, smiled, and scrambled out of the door. His hand's clutched his hat as tight as they possibly could, and the rain jacket he was still cloaked in glimmered beneath the stream of light from the car he'd bolted out of.

 The next stop was Robin's home; a little house situated within a cosy cul-de-sac; the shingles on her roof were covered in moss, likely drinking up the rain, and there were streams of ivy crawling up the sides, tickling her window pane. But the fence had been coated with a fresh coat of paint, the grass had been trimmed, and Robin's mother had spent time and care in raising the little pot of flowers right by their front door, as well as the vine of tomatoes growing by the gate.

 Robin hunched over the front seats, squeezing her body between Scarlet and Steve, "Thanks!" She chimed, her hand hovering for a moment, awaiting the stupid handshake she'd made with Scarlet... all just to spite Steve.

 They shook their hands, bumped their fists and pointed their fingers, little grins alighting their lips... then Steve pushed her backwards, his hand planted on her face. Robin slumped, a narrowed gaze lingering on Steve as she finally shifted, prying the car door open, "Have fun, you two... Oh, Scarlet?"

 "Hm?"

 "If you crash and Steve somehow sustains multiple physical, mental or spiritual injuries... I won't blame you."

 "Robin?" Scarlet sighed while Steve floundered beside her, hands waving through the air at the utter absurdity of Robin's words.

 "Yeah?"

 "Go home."

 "Yeah."

 The drive from Robin's home had been almost entirely silent. For once, Scarlet was thankful for the rainfall. The pitter-patter of droplets crusading into her windshield, only to be brushed aside by the wipers. It was a soothing sound... but the thunder and lightning that cracked and tore through the sky like a knife to butter... it only reminded Scarlet of the sight she'd seen within Will's mind that time ago.

 It was odd, how much such a scene had stuck with her.

 The Mind Flayer had towered over her, over Hawkins... the thunder behind it was nothing more than a backdrop, a set of theatrics whilst the main show continued on. Now, whenever those bright cobwebs of light resounded through the sky, she could feel an ache in the pit of her stomach... right where the Mind Flayer had gotten her. It seized every now and then... whenever thunder and lightning were present, whenever she thought a shadow moved at the corner of her eye... whenever a light chime of a clock rang free. That's what she'd heard back in Scoops Ahoy. That's what she'd been hearing for... some time now.

 It chimed through her dreams. Light sequences of nothing but happiness paused by the sound of the chime... only for the scene to continue as though blood had poured over her like the rain falling atop her car.

 "Scar?"

 The voice was distant, like a gurgle beneath ocean waves. Scarlet blinked, eyes watering as she flicked a quick look towards Steve.

 Sometimes she really wanted to throw dirt in his face. Not in like... a mean way... But just seeing him sat there utterly soaked while stands of hair fell into his eyes... those eyes. The warm gaze he'd wear, the look of nothing but fondness. It made her — it made her sick to the stomach.

 Why?

 Because Scarlet Hopper, the lab rat, the hero... the broken little girl who couldn't escape her past or the sound of chiming bells... She wanted him. Every little part of him.

 Steve Harrington was her crutch, but not in the way Hopper or Eleven was. Not in the way Max or Will were. Not the way Robin was. Those five were near and dear to her heart, but Steve was something else. The boy who noticed, the one who took her hand when her chest thudded a little too fast. The one who lowered his tone into dulcet trails of velvet when the room was too small and too dark...

 His stupid smile made it feel like Scarlet housed wasps in her stomach.

 She liked him. She really liked him.

 But she wasn't enough... hell, even if she was... Scarlet couldn't stomach the thought of having a hand ghost her thigh. She couldn't bare to think of lips brushing against her own... She knew how controlling she could be, needing with utmost to have her own grasp around every situation. She was demanding, and she knew traits like those... they could drive people away. Scarlet shivered, and Steve noticed.

 He just didn't notice properly, for he slung a hand through the gap between their chairs and tugged forth the blanket she kept in her car, "Cold?"

 "A little bit." She lied.

 She wasn't cold at all, actually. The thought of lips and hands and hot breath at her neck... it had flooded her skin with warmth, it made her reach boiling point in the most vile way possible. She thought she'd burst into pieces, but she couldn't. She couldn't let someone hold the burden of piecing her back together again.

 Steve knew something was up. The blank stare ghosting over the road, the non-committal tone of her voice, the tapping against the steering wheel. Her mind was torturing her again, he just knew it.

 But Steve didn't pry, he distracted, "You uh — you're were great today; cracking that code."

 "Hey now, Robin helped."

 "Sure she did."

 Scarlet finally scoffed, her amusement plain as daybreak as she sent a look his way, "Don't act like you don't like her, Stevie —" Steve inhaled, "— I know beneath that... sailor suit, you actually think she's funny."

 Steve's fingers pried at his uniform, grimacing at the way the sopping fabric stuck to his skin. The way water still trailed from the seams as though he'd just popped a water balloon. His following words were false, for though Steve really did wish he could hate Robin Buckley and the jokes she made at his expense... He couldn't.

 "Yeah," He drawled, slumping against his seat, "Real funny."

 Scarlet's eyes merely rolled. Steve was a terrible liar, and it was quite obvious that while he scoffed and did his best to sneer at Robin, he still chuckled at her jokes, his lips would still curl even when she'd poke fun at him... as for Robin, Scarlet knew that while she had hated — utterly despised — King Steve... the new Steve that stuttered and fumbled over his words, the one that actually tried to right his wrongs and do better with every passing day... she didn't mind him as much as she thought she would.

 Steve basked in the bout of silence that had befallen them; it was never filled with awkwardness, never a lick of uncomfortable tension... the patter of the rain, the chill from his sodden clothes and the squelch of his shoes... none of it bothered him all that much when Scarlet sat there, lightly humming away as her fingertips drummed against her wheel. He'd watch her eyes flicker to the side, peering down dark roads before turning, the way she'd meet his eyes with a quick tick of her lips when she had to peer at the side mirror.

 Even though she'd caught him with eyes glued to her face, she hadn't yet said a word about it.

 Steve almost sighed in contentment. Despite the chill, it was comforting to sit beneath the pounding of rain hammering against the roof, to hear the light breeze whistling through the crack in the window, to watch as Scarlet mouthed the words to some song he couldn't guess. It was always like that when the two were alone in the silence; comforting.

 There was a moment that made his heart seize; when they finally broke through the cluster of trees shielding them from the moon and stars. Scarlet's eyes remained dutifully on the road, yet those dark eyes that seemed almost impossibly black beneath the twilight... there was a shimmer. They caught the moonlight like a bug in a net, grasping ahold so tightly that Steve was almost certain it was no mere reflection within her eyes, but truly the moon itself. He had to gaze out of the window just to be certain.

 He couldn't help the heavy puff of air that breezed past his lips in the form of some derisory huff. It had sought Scarlet's attention, bringing her stare to the side of his face, eyes flicking from his profile and back to the road with each second. He could see her brow climbing her forehead, the small curl of her lips at his pout.

 Dustin was right, Steve thought bitterly.

 He did have the perfect girl right in front of him, but he'd known that all along. Hell, Steve had known that from the moment she'd stepped into the Byers home just a pace behind Eleven, while a droplet of blood spilled from her nose. He could remember it clearly, her chopped raven hair jostling as the winter chill coiled around her, the stomp of her muddied converse, the divot between her brow when she'd assessed them all until she'd decided they'd bring no harm to her little sister.

 He had known it the moment she'd sent a little smile his way; his heart had almost burst. He'd taken a moment when it had happened, to try and understand why the hell he thought he would clatter to the floor whilst his heart lept from his chest. He'd looked at Nancy, the smile she gave Jonathan, and that same heart had shattered all over again...

 Now, whenever she saw the two of them, he couldn't feel a thing. The pitiful organ within his chest wouldn't lurch in agony, it wouldn't seize in jealousy... it remained content, almost... happy for the two of them. There was that same, and very familiar, pang of loneliness, but Steve had gotten so very used to it... that he hardly noticed anymore.

 He knew he was an idiot for chasing nameless girls when his heart had already decided to devote itself to the girl driving him home in the midst of the night... but if he couldn't prove to be good enough for them... then how could he ever be enough for Scarlet?

 Rejection was something he knew well, and over time he could slowly piece himself back together; he'd been doing it for years... But just the mere thought of watching Scarlet turn him down, likely with a small and pitiful smile, made him feel sick.

 He couldn't get rejected if he never asked. Could he?

 Scarlet's cheek was burning. Not out of embarrassment, and certainly not from the temperature — for the night had brought a chill that danced in tandem with her cold and sopping clothes — but from the gaze searing into her skin like a brand.

 She cocked her head, eyes swiftly sliding from the monotonous view of a dark road, and to Steve... who had been boring his eyes into her temple for the better part of five minutes. She noticed the crease in his brow, and the lines by his mouth as he frowned.

 "You okay, Stevie?"

 Her voice broke his stare, shattering his thoughts like a brick to a mirror. He bobbed his head in such a ludicrous manner; hair spilt over his eyes and clung to his darkening cheeks, "Yeah — yeah I'm — I'm fine. Why would you think —"

 "So I don't have something on my face?"

 "Uh... Nope."

 A chime fell from her lips, yet while Steve only wanted the chair to swallow him whole, Scarlet couldn't help the swell of her heart, "Just staring, then?"

 "No, no —" he rushed, sitting as upright as he possibly could. It was unnatural looking for him, for Steve had the posture of an old man. His back would curl, shoulders hitched... now he looked as stiff as a board.

 "Oh!" He exclaimed, cringing ever so heavily when Scarlet flinched at his sudden yell, "Look, we're here!"

 He wanted to toss himself into the quarry. He wanted to throw himself down Starcourts escalators. Anything to escape her narrowed gaze, anything to hide away the flush on his cheeks.

 Scarlet brought the car to a slow stop, prolonging their time together as much as she could have... they may have remained in a serene silence throughout the drive, but even still, Scarlet had taken the longer route; the back roads were swamped with trees and blossoming berry bushes... just for that extra bit of time. Now it seemed like Steve was all but ready to launch himself out of the car.

 "So we are," Scarlet drawled out, finally turning his way as the engine silenced, "Really though... are you okay? You're acting... I mean you're acting like you, but like... weirder."

 "Thanks?"

 "Stevie."

 Steve chuckled, eyes darting around the car as though he was looking for an escape route... yet his gaze seemed intent on avoiding the door handle. As though despite his embarrassment, his pink cheeks and his internal revelation at the fact that he truly was wrapped around her finger... he didn't want to leave.

 His hand swooped through his hair, catching the tangles and only making him look like even worse of a fool, "I'm fine, Scar. Seriously."

 "If this is about your father —"

 "— It's not."

 "You know you can stay, right? Hopper won't mind."

 His actions paused, eyes softening. Her voice had lowered until nothing but a whisper had slipped free; the sound curling around him like a warm blanket. She was always like this — offering up Eleven's bed, or the living room couch, just so that he didn't have to face his parents.

 But tonight, after feeling the buzz within his stomach grow until he was ready to explode... he couldn't bare the thought of staying under the same roof, hearing her giggle with Eleven in the loft above. He'd cave, and he'd spill his guts. He couldn't do that.

 "It's okay." he said, fingers hesitantly seeking her own, "But thank you, tell Eleven that I hope she had fun today."

 Like that, Scarlet was ready to lock the doors and drag him back to the cabin. She stared at their fingers, watching as his twitched and curled... like he was nervous, "I will."

 "See you tomorrow?"

 "Of course."

 Then he left. The door slammed shut behind him, and while Steve had practically sprinted up the path to his extravagant home, he still tossed a look over his shoulder. He grinned, and scarlet slumped into her seat, watching as he closed the front door behind him.

 "Shit." She muttered, forehead meeting her steering wheel, "Shit."

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01-02-2020

edited version: 17-08-2022

:･ﾟ★ bye they are adorable.

and listen babes, i KNOW it's frustrating that they both know they like each other but won't come out with it... but what we all need to remember is that these babies are traumatised. steve has a lasting fear that nobody can ever actually love him — which he blames on himself — because his parents don't care, nancy cheated, and now he'd suffered through multiple rejections. 

as for our actual baby, scarlet... we all know she has issues by the boat load. girlie has, quite literally, been tortured and still struggles with not only the mental repercussions of that, but also the physical; she can't stand looking at herself, so how can she let someone else do the same? she has issues with control, and we see it with hopper mostly, she likes to be in charge and calling the shots... because all control over her life has been taken from her but she knows that being that way can hurt people or drive them away... and she's obviously still suffering from her previous entanglements with other men. I'll note that they were all consensual, and she chose to do those things... but that doesn't necessarily mean that she enjoyed them, and it doesn't mean that she doesn't regret them.

so be nice to them, they're struggling.

also to answer a common question; Steve Harrington in this story is dyslexic. <3

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part (this is just to ensure people remain engaged and supportive, as well as to allow me to see what you all enjoyed most!), and please do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3