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softquietsteadylove · 1 month

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Lost love is sweeter when it’s finally found.

Thena meets Gil, a few months after his death, again.

Will their souls match again?

Thenamesh AU 👀

Thena's hands had never shook when facing down an enemy. She was the Warrior Eternal. She didn't have any reason to shake in the face of a fight. But if her weapons were forged of steel, she could imagine they would be rattling terribly right now.

"Thena?"

She tried to keep her breathing under control, to keep her blade level at the approaching target. She set her lips in a thin line, "close enough."

His face flinched, like she'd hurt him. "Thena, it's me."

It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't him. How many times had she imagined this? How many times had her brain whispered sweet things to her like this? The entire reason she had chosen to leave the planet was because that house - that little, solitary house back in Australia - was full of whispers.

Full of visions of Gilgamesh, alive and well, standing at the sink and inviting her to taste his latest creation. He would smile at her, the apples of his cheeks turning up the corners of his eyes. The sun would him just so and emphasize the softness his handsome face possessed.

The Gilgamesh before her put his hand to his chest. "It's me."

Thena tried to keep her eyes solidly open and in front of her. But the way he pleaded with her made her heart twist. She would not cry before the enemy. The voice of the man she loved would not bring her to her knees.

"Thena," he took another step closer. She re-gripped her weapon and he held his palms out to her. "Thena, look at me. It's Gilgamesh."

"No," she said aloud to herself, perhaps in some futile hope that her words would ground herself. That thing in the cave had said the same to her. She would not allow her mind to lure her into surrender.

His face changed as he thought. Gilgamesh never was good at hiding how he felt, or what he was thinking. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He had--he had worn his heart on his sleeve.

Because this was not him.

"Sweetheart," he changed tactic, and she tried not to make it obvious that her whole back snapped straighter. How dare he use that name for her? "It's Gil."

Gil: her Gilgamesh, love of her never ending life and partner in a world all their own. Not even their team and family knew the extent to which they had been connected. Two souls, completely alone, together, at the ends of the earth. The man she swore to love on any planet.

She knew what Mahd Wy'ry felt like. Knew its sharp, stinging pecking at her temples. Her vision would blur as her eyes flickered white. And there was none of that in this moment. This wasn't Mahd Wy'ry showing her a vision of her love. This wasn't even that thing in the cave using Gilgamesh's words.

"It's Gil," he repeated, walking closer again. He held out his palm to her, even his fingertips leaning out to her longingly. "Give me your hand."

Thena kept her stance, but the sword vanished from her grasp, dissolving into the air like sparks from a fire. Her fingers shook, reaching for him and dreading the second they would make contact.

"Easy," he spoke so directly to her, no fear, no hesitation. He spoke like he knew her. "I'm right here."

He would say that to her when she was struggling. When her head was screaming at her and the line between what was in front of her what was in the past faded. He would reach out his hand and say he was right there.

Their fingers slid together. It felt familiar. She didn't let him pull her in, but he didn't drag her. He let her decide. Her fingers fluttered against his. His hands were so much warmer and stronger. Her fingers looked diminutive embraced by his.

"It's me," he whispered as their fingers folded closed together, locking their hands pressed palm to palm.

She lifted her eyes from their bound hands to him. He looked like her Gilgamesh. He felt like her Gilgamesh. Her heart was pounding on the inside of her chest, insisting that she fold herself into his arms and collapse completely into his embrace.

If this was, in fact, her Gilgamesh.

The Warrior Eternal tilted her head. The hand felt like the right hand. His heart sounded like Gil's did. But she'd been shown things before. She could trust him no more than she could trust her own Wy'ry mind.

His face fell as she pulled her hand back to herself. His eyes still looked the same, in that warm brown that made her want to drag the sky down so he could pluck stars for his blueberry pie.

"Come," she ordered, standing aside so he could move ahead of her. She would not be turning her back to this thing yet. "The others should see you."

They would confirm if this was, in any way, her Gilgamesh.

"Okay," he smiled, doing as she asked without a second thought. He knew she was the Warrior Eternal. Walking ahead of her could have deadly consequences. But he strode in front as if they were walking home from the market back in Australia. He glanced over his shoulder, "so-"

"Eyes forward!" She pulled her Cosmic Energy to her hand again, just to poke the back of his armour pauldron. She could easily 'slip' and jab into the joints of his armour. And he knew it.

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled. This was no laughing matter, but he was completely relaxed.

"Stop laughing."

"That just makes me wanna laugh more."

The two of them in the kitchen, her telling him to stop laughing and him clutching his belly in an attempt to do so. Two forks in a skillet of pie on the stove and light streaming in through the hole in the wall they called a window.

"Keep moving," she directed needlessly. She would act the jailer until she was certain he was any Gilgamesh, of any kind.

His hand extended back to her. He wanted to hold hers. They would walk back from the market in Australia, hand in hand, walking for hours back out to their solitude under a sun that could kill a human. She would point out lizards scuttling about and he would observe the plant life.

"You can say you dragged me back," he even suggested, still requesting her hand with his. "You're keeping me detained."

Thena glared at him until his eyes were forward again (as instructed). He knew her--knew the challenge he was presenting. If she wanted to hold his hand, then she would! She needed no excuse for it.

He grunted as she twisted his arm more into position, behind his back and at such an angle that even they would find it uncomfortable. His gait changed but he kept walking as she pushed at his wrist against his back. "Okay, yeah, this works too."

The Warrior Eternal smiled faintly to herself. She was still a Fighter, after all. She kept her grip around his wrist firm as she walked him back to the others. He certainly felt solid though. And with just the tip of her finger to slide into the valley of his palm, she affirmed that he was warm, too.

#Thenamesh AU #you want the angst I'll give it to you!#listen #the longing with these two #the two souls wanting to find each other again #never were there lovers more star crossed than these two #I will not be taking questions at this time #but Thena finds him again #and she remembers what fighting Kro was like #she's a little better at the end of the movie #but she obviously isn't cured or anything #so she finds Gil #and she knows better than to trust any vision of him #because she wants it too bad #She wants it to be real so badly she can't afford to believe any fo them #but she walks him back to the others with his arm twisted #and they're all like #oh my god Gil ?!!?!??#and that's when Thena realises this might be real

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xspeter · 2 months

Text

TIME AFTER TIME

chapter two ❣︎ cause i’ve got a blank space, baby (and i’ll write your name)

so, hey, let’s be friends

i’m dyin’ to see how this one ends

❧ warnings: none!

❧ wc: 4.9k

❧ Note: yayyy chapter two is here! don’t have much to say about this one… just that i’m happy she’s here! this one covers chapter two and half of three of the og book as well! and let me know if anyone wants a tag list! i’d also really really love to see your guys feedback on the chapters !

❧ masterlist

♥︎

The rain was a light drizzle by the time you reached Steve’s house. You pulled your hood over your head and prayed Steve wouldn’t be an asshole for once in his life and would open the door on time.

You didn’t know how, but everytime you knocked on his door he always made sure to leave you hanging for longer than necessary. How he knew it was you, you weren’t sure.

You knock hastily, and then instantly shove your hands back in your pockets. It was nearing the end of february, but there was still an obvious chill in the air.

You're expecting to have to knock again, and groan and go to do so, but the door opens swiftly and a smiling Mrs. Harrington is standing in front of you.

You didn’t know Steve’s parents too well, but every time you saw them (which was rare) they seemed to be good people.

“Oh, Hi, Mrs. Harrington!”

Her smile grows, “Y/N! I haven’t seen you in years! You’ve grown so much..” She glances at your reddening cheeks, a direct result of the cold. “Oh, come on, come inside!”

You let her pull you in, a shiver running up your spine as she slams the front door shut. “Steve’s in the living room. I’m assuming he’s what you’re here for right?”

You nod, your eyes darting across the house to soak in as much of it as possible.

You'd only been inside once before, when you’d gotten a bad scrape on your knee and Steve’s nanny had to bandage you up. Back then, you’d been too concerned with the pain to even glance around. But now, you can’t help but notice the odd.. coldness to it. There aren’t many family pictures, honestly you didn’t know if there were any at all.

“You’ve got a lovely home.” You murmured.

Mrs. Harrington smiles gratefully, her hands coming up to clench at her heart. “Oh you’re too kind.” She leans in closer to you, “honestly, i’ve told Steve a hundred times he needs to get with a nice girl like you. He just never listens.” She huffs.

You nearly snort but hold back. Steve’s mom wanted him to get with a girl like you? That’s gold. You’d be teasing him about this for the rest of his life.

“Hey, mom, who was at the door-” You spin on your heel to look at him, and you watch as his forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What’re you doing here?”

The tone he says it with makes you roll your eyes. You cross your arms over your chest, “I have a proposition for you.”

He scoffs, “A proposition?”

“Yep.”

Mrs. Harrington glances between the two of you before softly excusing herself. You watch her go, and then shift your attention right back to Steve.

“Let’s talk in the living room.”

Kate & Leopold was playing on one of those retro tv channels that only old people watched, and you couldn’t help but grin as Meg Ryan’s character attempted to evade the charm of a very British and very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh, I love this movie!”

“Of course you do.” He gave you a grin that made your stomach churn, a grin that made it seem like he knew things about you that even you didn’t. “What's your.. proposition, or whatever?”

Your cheeks flushed as you realized just what you wanted to ask him. Why would Steve help you? Who’s to say he won’t instantly go running to Jonathon and exposing you? You took a breath, sat on the couch, and said, “Okay. I need your help.”

He started smiling immediately, but you quickly shut it down by shoving a hand in his face, “I know you wouldn’t do something like that out of the goodness of your heart. So I have an offer for you.”

He pretended to grab his heart, shirt scrunching as he did, “Wow, like i’m some mercenary or something. That hurts.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He smirked, “No, it really doesn’t.”

“Look,” You forced yourself to not pretend like this had all been a prank and run with your tail between your legs, “Before I tell you what I need help with, I want to go over the terms of the deal.”

He crossed his arms - when had his chest gotten so wide? - and tilted his head, “Go on.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “First and foremost, you have to swear to secrecy. If you tell a single soul about this it is void and you do not get payment. Second, if you agree, you actually have to fulfill your part. You can’t just do little and then blow me off.”

You paused, and he looked at you through narrowed eyes, “Well? What’s the payment?”

“The payment will be full twenty-four/seven access to the parking spot for the duration of our deal.”

“Whoa.” He walked over and plopped into the chair in front of you. “You will give me the parking spot?”

You didn’t want to. At all. But you knew how badly he wanted it, and if he was anything like you, he’d do anything to get it. “That’s correct.”

His smile went big, “I’m in. I’m doing it. I’m your guy.”

“You don’t even know what the deal is.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“What if… I want you to run completely butt naked through the halls during lunch?”

“Done.”

You grabbed the throw blanket at the end of the couch and threw it over your body, “What if I ask you to cartwheel naked through the halls during lunch while singing Madonna?”

“Easy. I love like a virgin.”

“Actually?” That made you smile, even though you weren’t used to smiling at Steve of all people. “But can you even do a cartwheel?”

“Uh, duh.”

“Prove it.”

He groaned, “You’re so high maintenance.” He stood, shoved the coffee table out of the way, and did the worst cartwheel you'd ever seen in your life. His legs were all bent and his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth, but still, he landed it like a gymnast. He gave you a confident smile before plopping right back down, “Now tell me.”

You coughed out a laugh you were trying to hold in and searched his face. You were looking for honesty, or really anything. But you were sidetracked by how dark his eyes were. They weren’t dark like Jonathon’s, they were almost lighter. More honey-like than anything. You thought of the time in seventh grade when he’d given you six dollars to stop crying.

Your dad and his new wife, Monica, had just gotten married a couple weeks before, and they’d decided to remodel the main level of the house. To prepare, Monica had cleaned out the closets and drawers and donated all of the old stuff. Including your moms VHS tapes.

When you had an emotional breakdown over it and your dad explained it to Monica, she’d felt so bad. She kept apologizing the whole time you sobbed. But all you could focus on was what Monica had said to your dad. “I just didn’t think anybody watched those cheesy movies.”

You were resourceful as a kid - still were in all honesty (exhibit A, your current situation at Steve’s house) - and all it took was a phone book and a phone call for you to find out where they’d ended up. You’d snuck out under the premise of seeing Robin, and ridden your bike all the way to the thrift store.

You had every penny of your babysitting money saved up, but when you got there it still wasn’t enough. “We’re selling this as a collection kid, you can’t buy them individually.”

You stared at the price tag, and still, you were six dollars short. The jerk at the store was unyielding and you’d cried all the way home. It felt like you were losing your mom all over again.

When you were almost home, you saw Steve outside bouncing a basketball in his driveway.

“Hey,” he tossed the ball into the grass as soon as he saw you, “What’s wrong?”

You remember not wanting to tell him because you knew he’d think it was ridiculous, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made you break down all over again. Through sobs you explained your situation to him, and instead of laughing like you’d expected him too, he listened. And once your sobs had been replaced with tiny hiccups, he reached forward and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, Y/N.” He looked sad when he said it, like he wanted to cry too. Then he said, “Wait here.”

He turned and ran into his house, and you stood there - exhausted from crying and shocked by his niceness - and waited for him to come back.

When he did, he’d happily handed you a ten dollar bill. You remember looking up at him and thinking he had the kindest brown eyes, but your thoughts must’ve shown because he immediately scowled and said, “This is just to shut you up ‘cause I can’t stand listening to you bawl for another minute. And I want my change.”

Your mind jerked back to Steve’s living room. Jonathon. The spot. Needing his help.

“I swear on everything holy that I will hire a hitman if you blab about this.”

He sighed, “I very much believe you.”

You had to look at something other than his face, and your eyes shifted to his lap. Which you immediately regretted once you saw the gray sweats he was wearing. So instead, they just made purchase on the spot above his head.

“So, you know Jonathon’s back in town. And I was kinda hoping you’d.. touch base with him. We were close before he moved away, and I want that back again.”

“And I can help you with that how?”

You kept your eyes glued to the wall, “Well, I don’t have any classes with him, so there’s no way for me to talk to him naturally. But you and Jon are already friends. You hang out. You invited him to that party.” You gestured with your hands, “You’ve got the connection I want.”

He pursed his lips and shifted in his seat, “So you’ve still got the hots for Byers, and you want me to take you to the party so you can get him to like you. Am I picking up what you’re putting down?”

You considered lying for a moment, before you conceded and said, “Yeah, basically.”

His jaw clenched, “I heard he’s interested in Nancy.”

God, did everyone now about that? Personal vendetta aside, Nancy Wheeler was totally wrong for a guy like Jonathon. In fact, nudging him to fall in love with you would be doing him a favor by saving him from that.

“Don’t you worry about that.”

An eyebrow went up, “How scandalous of you.”

“Shut up.”

He smiled, “You can’t think going to a party is gonna make him notice you. There’s already gonna be a ton of people there - and i’m willing to bet Nancy shows too.”

An obvious shiver went down your spine at the mention of her being there and you shifted in your seat. “I only need a few minutes.”

“Pretty confident aren’t you?”

“I am.” You had a script ready. “I have a plan.”

He scoffed, “Your plan sucks.”

You tucked your legs underneath yourself, “And how would you know that?”

“Because i’ve known you practically your whole life. Your plan involves some “coincidental” meeting,” He put air quotes above the worse coincidental, “an entire books worth of silly ideas, and someone riding off into the sunset.”

He was nearly right on the money. “You’re way off base.”

He rolled his eyes at you, clearly not believing a word you said.

You sighed, “So…?”

Steve looked way too pleased with himself, “So…?”

“Oh my god, you’re torturing me on purpose. Are you going to help me or not?”

He sucked his teeth and pretended to think, “You know, I’m just not sure if The Spot is worth it.”

You scoffed, “Worth what? Allowing me to be in your presence for a few hours? You’ll barely notice I'm there!”

“What if i’m trying to hit it off with someone?” He retorted, “You being there might throw me off my game.”

You resisted an eye roll, “Trust me, King Steve won’t be thrown off his game by little ol’ me.” You batted your eyelashes innocently, and a scowled formed on his face at the mention of his nickname. “Don’t talk about my game, you perv.”

You groaned, “Are you going to say yes or what? Cause if not i’d like to be going.”

He smirked and kicked his feet up onto the table, “I do love watching you make the walk of shame from around the block, so I guess I'll drag you along.”

🝮

“Y/N.”

You glanced up from your math homework to see Robin climbing through your window, with Barb and her freshman buddy, Max. Robin had discovered years ago if you climbed the roof of the playhouse in your backyard you’d just be able to reach the roof and slide your bedroom window open.

“Hey guys,” You cracked your back and turned around in your desk chair, surprised to see them. “What’s up?”

“Me and Barb just got done with a planning meeting for the senior prank, and we ran into Max on our way out. Her curfews not for..” She glanced down at her watch, “another twenty minutes. So we’re just killing time.”

You hummed, turning back to continue your homework as the three of them plopped onto your bed, “It was basically, like, thirty people jammed into a Burger King saying things they thought were funny. Which they usually weren’t.” Barb snorted and Robin giggled with her.

Max shrugged, “I liked that one kids idea you guys were telling me about. The one that said screw it and just do something terrible.”

Robin groaned and covered her face with her hands, “He said it was ironically funny because it was so not funny and that it'll never be forgotten.”

Barb nodded, “He’s kinda right.”

Robin sighed, “You should’ve been there, Y/N.” She said. You prepared yourself for what came next, a lecture about how you were only seniors once. She was good at those.

But when you finally look up at her, she’s already moved on and started a totally different conversation. You can’t help but feel a tad bit grateful.

Robin walked over to your closet and sifted through it, “Where’s the red plaid dress?”

“It’s buffalo plaid, and it’s on the other side.” You pointed and said, “With the causal shirts.”

“I knew the layout, but I would’ve pictured it with the other dresses.”

“Too causal.”

“Of course.” She snorted and draped the dress over her arm, “So what’d you do tonight? Just homework?”

You blinked like a deer in headlights. But Barb and Max weren’t even paying attention, so you cleared your throat and muttered a quick, “Pretty much.”

Robin hummed and came over to you and began playing with your hair, “Why is only like.. the bottom half curled? Is this a new fashion statement or something?”

You’re reminded of your journey to Steve’s house and how the bottoms of your hair had been nearly drenched by the rain. “No, I just got caught in the rain after school.” A half-lie.

She smiled, “Maybe it should rain everyday.”

“Yeah.” You pictured Steve’s cartwheel and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “Right.”

🝮

It was nearing seven thirty with still no sign of Steve. You tapped your fingers against the finding table anxiously, legs crossed over each other.

“Why don’t you just walk over to his house?” Monica suggests, craning her neck to see you from her spot in the kitchen. She’s washing the dishes while your dad stands besides her to dry them.

Your dad hums in agreement, “It’s just Steve. I doubt he’d care.”

“In all honesty,” Monica smirked, bumping your dads hip with her own, “Your tapping is driving your dad absolutely crazy and he thinks your date might’ve forgotten you.”

“It’s not a date.”

Your dad ignored your comment, “Actually, I just think Steve Harrington is capable of anything.”

Your dad and Monica began doing their bantering thing back and forth, and you had to fight back an eye roll.

They’d met in a stuck elevator, totally cliche, exactly one year after your mother had died. They’d been in there for two hours. One of your favorite tropes was forced proximity, but you liked to exclude them from that.

It was strange that they had the perfect meet-cute and seemed made for each other, because her and your mother could not be any less similar.

Your mom was sweet, a modern version of Doris Day. She was all baking and fresh cut daisies from her garden. She was the sweetest woman you’d ever known.

Monica was different. She was, I’m-too-good-for-rom-coms, and let’s-go-out-for-dinner and just nothing like the woman you cried for every night.

You glanced outside, no sign of Steve. He was nearing twenty minutes late and hadn’t even bothered to call.

Honestly he was probably already at the party dancing it out with Jonathon as he and Nancy Wheeler gazed longingly at each other from across the room. She probably waltzed over to him all sexy-like and grabbed his arm to drag him upstairs. The thought made you feel sick.

Your dad asked, “You’ll be home at midnight?”

“Yep.”

“Not a second later, got it?” He looked more serious then you usually ever saw him and said, “Nothing good happens after midnight.”

“I know, I know.” You sighed, “I’ll call if-“

“No, you won’t.” He gave a shake of his head and pointed at you, “You will just not be late. Understand?”

Monica groaned half-heartedly and squeezed his bicep, her hand leaving a slight wet mark, “Relax, she gets it!” You both shared a look of understanding, and she easily shifts his attention to something you don’t pay any mind to.

Your dad was always tense when it came to curfew, and you’d always known it’d been because of what happened to your mom. And the only time you’d ever dared to push back he’d just said: If your mom hadn’t been out at midnight, that drunk driver wouldn’t have hit her.

And, well, he was right. So you never said anything about it again.

You practically jump up at the sight of headlights pulling into your driveway, and you’re quick to attempt to give a hasty goodbye and scurry away, but your dad stops you with a look. “I want him to come inside first. He doesn’t get to take my daughter on a date without talking to me.”

You wanted to scream. “It’s not a date!”

Your dad ignored your comment, “Bring him inside.”

So, very hesitantly, you walked outside to a waiting Steve. He was quietly bopping his head to whatever song was playing on the radio, and he instantly stopped once he spotted you. He reached forward and simultaneously turned the radio down while also rolling down the window.

“Hey,” He said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You smiled back, elbows resting on the window cill. He looked confused, “Aren’t you getting in the car?”

You bit your lip, unable to make eye contact. Would he find it weird your dad wanted to talk to him? What if he thought this was some elaborate scheme to date him? Because in all honesty, that was the farthest thing from the truth.

“Um,” You took a breath, “My dad wants you to come inside.”

An eyebrow went up, and his lips parted for a second. Shock flashed across his face, but he was quick to replace it with indifference. “Uh, yeah.” He slapped his knees, “That’s fine.”

You watched with a grateful smile as he stepped out of his car, it shifting a little with the loss of his weight. You both approached the door, you honestly thought you might be more nervous then he is.

“Sorry if this is weird,” you breathed out, placing a hand on the knob. “I tried to explain it wasn’t a date and he just would not listen-”

Steve tsked, hands shoved into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it, your dad loves me anyway.”

You side-eyed him, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “I’m not too sure about that one..”

His eyes went wide, “What are you talking about?”

You just shrugged and opened the door, watching with an amused smile as Steve nervously made eye contact with your father.

“Hello, Mr. L/N.” He said. He sounded way too serious, and it almost made you chuckle. Key word being almost.

Your dad narrowed his eyes at him, “Steve.”

Steve swallowed, adam's apple bobbing as he did. You made eye contact with a smirking Monica, both of you trying (but nearly failing) at holding back your eye rolls.

Your dad gestured to the dining room table, “Have a seat, son.”

Steve glanced at you, palms becoming sweaty. He wouldn’t say your dad was intimidating, no, he was more so just scary. And if there was anything Steve was sure of, it was that your dad would go to the ends of the earth before he let anything happen to you.

He remembers this one time back in the fourth grade, just a couple months before your mom died, and Carol Perkins had been picking on you.

Steve noticed it, but he just thought they were teasing, not full on bullying. No, he didn’t know that until he saw your dad storm into the elementary school lobby with a crying you in his arms. He’d yelled at the principal so loud people could hear it from across the hall. Talk about protective.

He sat at the table hesitantly across from your dad, leg bouncing as he stared anywhere but your dads face.

“What’re your…” Your dad glanced at you, “plans with my daughter?”

You scoffed, “You’re acting like we’re gonna go do drugs or something.”

Your dad glared at you, effectively shutting you up, but not without a few irritated grumbles from you. He nodded at Steve, silently telling him to answer.

Steve took a breath and straightened his shoulders, “I’m taking her to the party, which will be alcohol free by the way, and we’ll be back by midnight.” He swallowed and then threw in a sir.

Your dad leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “And who will be at this party?”

“Kids from school. It’s mostly just people in our grade. Uh, Jonathon will be there as well, Sir.”

They stared at each other for what you were sure was months, and you were starting to get antsy. Every second spent here was a second Nancy could be using to get closer to Jonathon.

“Um, this was really great and all,” you took a cautious step closer to Steve, slowly pulling him up from the seat, “But we really need to get going!” You practically dragged Steve across the dining room to the front door, hastily saying your goodbyes.

You opened the door, you were nearly outside, but of course, your dad stopped you. “Steve!” He yelled.

Steve paused, and craned his head to look at him. “Sir?”

There was a pause, and then, “If anything happens to her tonight, me and you will be having a long talk.” Could tonight get any more embarrassing for you?

Steve didn’t say anything, instead he just nodded solemnly.

“Okay, whatever, bye!” You huffed.

You slammed the door shut, finally able to take a breath. “God, he’s annoying.” You groaned.

Steve was silent, arms crossed as he stared at the ground. “No, he’s not.” He mumbled so quietly you could barely hear it.

“Uh, yeah, he is. Like it’s just a party, he’s so dramatic.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just sniffed and walked to his car, not even sparing you a glance. You furrowed your brows. Why was he suddenly acting like this?

“What’s your problem?” You asked as you followed him.

“Just get in the car.”

You did as he said, silently sitting and shutting the door. You knew he’d be pissed if you slammed it, and seeing as he was suddenly in no joking mood, you didn’t.

The car ride was silent apart from the quiet stereo, and it made you uncomfortable. You and Steve didn’t like each other, sure, but you were never silent with each other. You always had some snotty thing to say to start some petty argument.

“Are you.. are you okay?” You asked hesitantly.

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, knuckles nearly white as he gripped the wheel, “I’m peachy.”

He didn’t sound peachy.

“Look, if it was something I said, or-”

“You didn’t say anything, okay? Let’s just get to the party so you and Jonathon can.. I don’t know, make out or whatever.”

You scoffed, “There will be no making out. Not yet, anyway.” You mumbled the last part, silently smirking to yourself.

Steve scrunched his nose, “Ew, gross, please keep that to yourself.”

You just snorted, spending the rest of the car ride annoying Steve to the best of your ability. Whatever had bothered him before seemed to be forgotten about, and you were happy about it.

“Okay, we’re here.”

You looked around at the drunken teenagers outside, all of them making anything but good decisions. There was a keg stand with a bunch of boys from the football team high fiving each other, one of them you recognized as Billy Hargrove. What a total douche.

Next to them were multiple couples showing way too much PDA, and by PDA you mean practically grinding on each other.

You gave Steve a look, but he just smirked and pushed you out of his car.

You barely made it to two steps out before there was a wolf whistle sounding from beside you, and it didn’t take a genius to know who it was.

“Well, don’t you look nice.” Billy said, voice as smooth as honey. (If the honey had been grounded in a meat grinder and then dipped in glass.)

You glanced down at your dress. You’d gone with a red one to accentuate your features, hoping Jonathon would be impressed.

“Uh, thanks?”

Billy grinned, hand on his hip as he waltzed over to you. “That dress s’real nice, but…” he leaned closer into your ear, breath minty with a strong odor of alcohol, “it’d look better on the floor, don’t you think?”

You gasped, jaw hanging open at his crude comment. “You’re such a pervert!” You glanced to Steve, “Besides i’m… seeing someone.” You winced, and you hoped it sounded more convincing then you thought.

Billy laughed, actually laughed, and looked over at Steve.

He’d already gone up the porch and was talking to his friend, so he didn’t see the situation with Billy. But once he heard Billy’s sultry laugh, he turned and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw you.

He bid his friend goodbye and came over to you. “Is he bothering you?” He asked, chest puffed out as he tried to intimidate Billy.

Billy smirked, “Sorry, man. I wasn’t aware you two were.. a thing.”

Steve looked stunned for a moment, but quickly played it off. “Well, we are. So i’d really appreciate it if you’d back up.”

Billy put two hands up and did as he was told, “No need to get hostile,” He licked his bottom lip, “Jus’ let me know if you ever feel like sharin’.”

You scoffed and Steve just rolled his eyes, effectively pulling you away and to somewhere more secluded. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded, but couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “He’s gonna tell everyone we’re dating, Steve.”

Steve just shrugged, “So? We deny it.”

It was then that a thought came to you. Jonathon didn’t know anything about you anymore. Even if it hurt to admit, it was true. Which meant he wouldn’t know how good of a girlfriend you could be.

So, wouldn’t it be a good idea to show him? If you could show him that you were better then Nancy, then he’d obviously be drawn to you and want to date you. The only problem? Steve.

“What if…” You swallowed, “what if we didn’t?”

“I’m not following.”

“What if we let everyone think we’re dating? Then Jonathon would see how great of a girlfriend I could be. And Nancy, who I know you still have a thing for, will see that you’re a great boyfriend.”

Steve’s eyes widened a bit at the mention of Nancy. He didn’t know you knew about his crush on the girl. “I don’t like Nancy.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, maybe I do.”

You swallowed, “If you do this for me, I'll let you have The Spot all the way up until prom.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. This offer was too good to be true. Get The Spot, get Nancy, all just by pretending to date you?

How hard could it be?

“I’ll do it.”

♥︎

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