18+
"stop saying that! stop saying you love me or- or that you missed me more than anything. don't tell me i'm your favorite girl. just, fuck," she shook her head. "don't say shit you don't mean, mike. don't lie to me."
the money, the fame, the se...
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much like every other time mike had shown up at her door over the course of the past three and a half years, he gave her no prior warning.
one minute el was milling about the tiny kitchen of her studio apartment when there was a knock at the door to her fire escape, the next she was staring at his unmistakable face peeking over a bouquet of purple tulips.
"mike? you're here? oh, my god!" she snapped out of whatever state of shock she was in to step forward and wrap her arms around his neck.
he moved the tulips just in time to save them from a squished fate and returned the hug, smiling into her hair. "i'm here, gorgeous."
she giggled, pulling away just enough to look at him. "what are you doing here? i thought you were on a press tour for killing saints."
"i am, i have to fly to london tomorrow night. we wrapped up the tour for the states in chicago so i just decided to come home for the night," he explained, unable to resist brushing her hair out of her face.
el smiled, still having a hard time believing that he was in front of her and it wasn't a holiday or something. she hadn't seen him since he visited in early may for holly's tenth birthday. she didn't even realize how much five months without seeing him in person had affected her until now.
"did you go see your parents and holly already?" translation: do i get to keep you to myself tonight?
"yeah, i stopped in hawkins first. they know i'm with you." translation: yes.
she nodded, hoping her excitement wasn't too obvious. she unwrapped her arms from him and glanced down at the flowers. "are those for me?"
he huffed out a laugh. "fuck no. they're for the cat you claimed you were getting last time we talked."
ah, yes. the late night phone call they shared on his birthday the previous month (when el was curled up in bed and he was drunk or high — or both), el claimed she going to get a companion and it would be fluffy.
el frowned, and stepped back to let mike in from the october chill. she was getting goosebumps herself from only being dressed in underwear and crewneck that barely covered her ass.
"matti said no pets in the apartment," she practically growled.
he chuckled as he shut the door behind him and looked around. "apartment? you mean the shoebox?" this was only his third time seeing el's little apartment located right above the cafe she managed when she wasn't drowning in her university studies.
she snatched her tulips and proceeded to swat him with them. "don't be a prick!"
"i'm joking! i like your place. it's cozy," he mended, taking off his jacket.
she scowled. "isn't cozy just rich people's nice way of saying small as fuck?"
