Something Infinite : Steve Harrington x You Series

oo8 • say you'll stay *

SOMETHING INFINITE • PART EIGHT
S A Y  Y O U ' L L  S T A Y

But not everybody knows that, huh?

Hop's words echoed in Steve's head as he began to cry quietly there on the park bench. He'd tried so hard to swallow it, to keep it all locked away, but it was all crumbling now. What if Hop was right? And then you were there asking him to let you in. Despite everything he'd done and said, you were there offering forgiveness.

You gotta tell me what's going on. Tell me.

He knew if he cracked his chest open, reached in and took his heart out for you he wouldn't be able to put it back, but the longer you looked at him the more it didn't matter.

"I–I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying," Steve hastily wiped an arm over his face, breath hitching as he tried to catch it.

"It's okay," you didn't know what else to say. Even if it wasn't okay you wanted him to know you were there. You wished you could pull him into you, wrap around each other and plant yourselves deep in the sea of wildflowers and dandelions that swam across the field.

"Yeah," he huffed a laugh and drew in one big deep breath before looking up at you, trying a smile. Even then, eyes bleary and tears clinging to the long sweep of his lashes, he was still so pretty.

"I don't know what you're going through, but everyone's got shit," fell out and surprised you. You weren't one to just offer yourself up to others and yet here you were, spilling kept secrets to this boy. "My mom's never home and my dad was basically a sperm donor so. Bonafide Disney princess over here," you wiggled your eyebrows at him and when he laughed again through the last of his tears you felt like your heart was going to burst.

"I'm not any better, my dad only gives a shit if I'm not around to take the trash out. Does that make me Cinderella?"

You grinned at him, but when he looked up at you it softened. His eyes. Warm honey. Burnt caramel. Tentatively you lifted a hand, brushing your thumb across his cheek to swipe away lingering tears, and your grin came back gently teasing, "You'd make a good Cinderella."

"Mmm, gonna put that on my resume and see how many interviews I get."

"Clean a few more chimneys and it's in the bag," you smiled and he hummed at your joke. You were funny. But even then, even with you trying to make it lighter, he couldn't shake it. The pressing weight, the feeling of carrying it around with him day in and day out. The way you were looking at him.

"Listen, my dad, he's not–" Steve stumbled over his words, uncomfortable with how his chest ached at being opened.

"Steve, if you don't want to tell me, I get it–"

"No, no. It's okay. Just give me a second," he roughed his hands over his face and sucked in a breath before it all came tumbling out. "I just–he's such an asshole. I don't even think he'd want me if he didn't need someone to take over his stupid firm. 'The Harrington legacy'. I don't want it, I don't want any of it and–and I'm just one big disappointment," his voice was muffled against his palms and without hesitation you reached up to take hold of each, pulling them away gently.

He didn't resist and even though he wanted to run, wanted to hide away, he tried. For you. Met your gaze, tangled his fingers with yours as they fell between you. "No you're not," you said and he knew you meant it.

"Thanks," Steve murmured, voice low and thick as he dropped his gaze down to his lap where your fingers twisted together. You watched him withdraw as he heard your words. Words you meant, but he didn't believe them himself and something in you opened up.