𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇; 𝘴. 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯

three

y/n

The Harrington household was furnished beautifully. Steve's mother had always been keen on keeping her living-space appealing to the eye. Steve would tell me stories about him being dragged along on countless house decor shopping trips.

My eyes traveled from wall to wall, taking everything in as I patiently waited for Steve to come back from his room. He had left to get an old hoodie that Nancy, who was in the washroom, could change into.

I pulled the towel that was draped around my shoulders tighter against my body as I took notice of the fireplace in front of me. It was littered precisely with family photos. One of them especially caught my eye. It was a picture of Steve when he was younger. He was wearing blue swim shorts with sharks on them and a matching hat. In his hands were a shovel and pail. A smile crept onto my face and I found my feet carrying me toward the fireplace.

I reached for the photo but stopped. Instead of grabbing it, I gently brushed off the dust piling on top of it. I was broken out of my trance by a small cough. I whipped my head around to see a wet-haired Steve, now laughing at my antics.

''What are you looking at?'' He questioned, getting closer to me. Looking over my shoulder, he could see that it was a picture of him. ''Admiring me, huh?''

''No,'' I scoffed, quickly reaching for the closest picture without taking a glance at it, ''I was looking at this.''

Steve quirked an eyebrow and broke out into a laughing fit. Confusion rushed into my body and I turned the photo around to be faced with Steve's father. My face flushed with red in an instant. I put the photo back while Steve continued to laugh, ''My dad, Y/n? Didn't know you were into older guys!''

I let out a huff and crossed my arms, ''Shut up, I hate you.''

The laughter died down and Steve reached behind me and got ahold of the photo of him on the beach. ''There's no dust on this one,'' He then grabbed and held up my hand, ''Meanwhile, there's dust on your fingers. Hey, I'm not exactly the smartest guy, but look at the evidence!''

I stayed silent, frowning when he said he was not the smartest guy.

''Let's get you changed into some dry clothes, alright?''

Steve proceeded to make his way up the stairs and I followed close behind. Once we got inside his room, he opened a drawer and rummaged through it, eventually pulling out one of his basketball hoodies. He tossed it at me and I thanked him before heading into his washroom.

I looked in the mirror and drank in my appearance. My hair was damp and was sticking to my face so I brushed my fingers through it, painfully untangling it. Next, I turned the tap on and splashed my face with cold water, and wiped it with the sleeve of Steve's hoodie, knowing he would not care about a small mascara stain.

I stood vacantly for a few more moments before stepping out. Steve was on the ground, fluffing up the pillows from his bed. Next to him was a spare blanket and pillow. ''Almost done setting up the bed for you.''

I smiled at the gesture, ''I can take the floor.''

''No, a princess deserves to sleep comfortably.''

''I'm not a princess, Steve.''

Steve stood up abruptly and shot me a taken-back look as if he were offended by my words. He stepped toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder, his cold touch sending a shiver through my already cold body. ''You, Y/n Winston, the daughter of Christopher goddamn Winston, the most popular girl at Hawkins High, isn't a princess?

I shook my head and giggled, ''Go to sleep, idiot.''

We both took our spots, Steve on the floor, and me just above him, on the bed. We stayed silent for a while, the only sounds coming from the air conditioning system and our breathing. We stayed this way until I found it all unbearable, ''Hey, Steven?''