the hayloft was burnt to the ground, taking the memories and horrors with it.
- in which Malia Garcia doesn't go down without a fight.
❥
𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒘𝒐
stranger things season one - four
steve harrington x fem...
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❛ I love you, Harrington! ❜
❦
The shed door in the Garcia's back garden flies open and rattles the wooden hut as Malia takes a step inside, her eyes flicking over the cluttered walls and worktops. Her father's equipment untouched since his death.
She entered in search for a weapon, but gets quickly distracted by the photos pinned into the beams. With a grumble, she skips over the whole family ones and pauses on a slightly ripped image of Malia and Thomas. She's threatening him with her fists in a jokey way while he laughs, his mouth wide open and a hand on his chest. They had to be around five, or possibly younger, judging by the square glasses stuck on Malia's face.
She bites her lip, smiling gently before ripping the photo from its place and shoving the thin paper into her jean's back pocket before turning around to survey the rest of the shed.
Her father used to have a gun, she knows that but Sasha Garcia was adamant on hiding it away from her children, so Malia had crossed that off her weapons list, instead searching for any sharp surface.
Finally, her eyes land on an axe, hung on a tiny hook just by a window. It's exactly like the ones you find dotted around large business buildings in case of emergency. Without hesitation, she takes a large step forward, ripping the heavy tool off it's perch and swinging it by her side, slightly surprised by the weight.
"I apologised." A voice speaks gently from the door way, "To Nancy."
Malia's eyes widen and she quickly places the axe on the work bench beside her before whirling round to face her best friend, "Well done, Steve. I'm sure she's wrapped around your finger again, congrats."
He rolls his eyes, leaning against the door frame, "No, like, properly apologised. . . sincerely." He holds his palm out, stopping her from speaking again when he notices her face screw up, "Look, Mal, I came to say sorry to you too."
She raises an eyebrow, "Why?"
"What? What do you mean why?" He stares at her, "Because I was a dick to you."
"You're always a dick to me. It's nothing new to me. Unfortunately, I've had to endure thirteen years of the shit," She shrugs, "Nancy, on the other hand, didn't expect to be getting involved with such an impulse angry boy."
"Malia, don't even act like you aren't a dick to me too," He snorts before slowly letting his face drop as another thought entered his mind, "I've been thinking, why are you and Nance so close now? You both detested one another literally a few days ago. You replacing me, Garcia?"
