post malone / mileven texting au.

thirty-seven.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN;
LEAVING MY WHORE LIFESTYLE.

for their late lunch, mike decided to introduce el to the greasiest food hawkins, indiana has to offer — benny's diner.

and she packed away every last greasy bit of her burger and fries, shamelessly ordering a strawberry milkshake with an extra cherry for dessert. their server, a young boy who'd probably only just gone through puberty, came back with her milkshake, an extra little dish of cherries, and a bit of drool leaking from the corner of his nervous smile.

somehow mike had forgotten he was on a date with the hottest girl to ever step foot in indiana, but their server — isaiah, his name tag read — was reminding him with the way he stared at her lips and the faint marks that littered the smooth skin of her neck. the marks he'd left.

when isaiah begrudgingly left their table after assuring he'd be back with their bill momentarily, mike let out an exasperated huff.

el, sucking on her straw, raised a brow at the noise. "what?"

"what do you mean what?" he gestured in the direction their server had gone, "he's about to slip on his own drool. i'd be surprised if he's not watching you drink that through the kitchen window with his hand down his pants."

the words surprised mike, despite the fact that he was the one speaking them. he'd never been one to get jealous, even when his ex cheated on him with someone he considered a friend. sure, he felt betrayed and hurt, but it wasn't jealousy.

el smiled, genuinely elated by this reaction. "you're jealous?"

obviously. "no."

with her eyes all lit up, she nodded. "no, you are. oh, my god, you're so jealous... and over a kid! he's got to be, like, fourteen at most, mike."

"look, i'm not jealous. i just don't like how he looked at your chest like he was trying to figure out if you're wearing a bra or not," he replied, pushing around the straw in his coke.

she tilted her head. "do you think i'm wearing a bra?"

mike's jaw clenched and he couldn't resist from dropping his eyes below her chin for a few seconds. "i can't believe i'm saying this, but i hope you do. fucking isaiah will probably turn the air down if he thinks otherwise."

she giggled, reaching for her dish of cherries. "hm, yeah, i hope he doesn't do that. they get hard as diamonds, i swear."

"fuck," mike breathed out, quickly shaking his head to dismiss all thoughts of hardening body parts. "okay, no, different topic."

"i like that you get jealous," she told him just before tugging the cherry off the stems by her teeth. "it's cute."

"once again, i'm not jealous—"

"i like that you get that way about me. no one ever has. at least, no one i've wanted to, has." he stayed quiet this time. "guys have gotten possessive. like i'd hook up with them once, and then they'd see me at a party with another guy after that and get all pissed off like that had some claim over me or some shit."

mike felt inclined to assure her, "i don't think i have some claim over you, el."

she smiled. "but you do. you do have a claim over me, that's what i'm trying to say." his eyes widened, and she backtracked, scared she'd said the wrong thing — or the right thing, just was too soon. "i mean, um, if you want to have... that. i don't know," she tried to laugh it off, shaking her head. "actually, let's just pretend i didn't say that."