Flipped: A Steve Harrington Enemies to Lovers

The Gate

The strange little girl is barely recognisable to the shell of a person you met just a year ago.

There's a long trickle of blood scurrying down the side of her lip like a river bending round her face. Her clothes are far too big for her - a black woollen blazer, with the sleeves rolled up. Her jeans are too long, one of the pant legs having been tucked into her soiled, cotton sock. Melted down her face, days old kohl, which has been haphazardly scrubbed into her eyelashes. But most notably, her hair. It's grown out, slicked back with gel.

She stands opposite the Wheeler boy, who gapes at her like a rabbit in the headlights.

"Eleven."

"Mike."

Then, after a short while, they collide. Mike's cry takes on the sound of a yelp, while El's eyes are brimming with tears, marred grey by her dark makeup.

"I never gave up on you." The dark-haired boy sobs and she buries her head into the crook of his neck. The innocence of the image before you is sweetness itself.

You cross your arms and smile softly at the young lovers; you barely got the chance to get to know the tiny yet powerful hero that saved Hawkins last November. Yet you cannot help but feel a sense of warmth blooming within you, to see such a lost soul find her way back home again.

Steve leans close to you, whispering, "Who is that?"

You glance to the side and are met with his curiosity.

"Oh shit, yeah," You chuckle. "I forgot you didn't know about this part."

"This part?"

"Her name is Eleven."

"Like the number?"

"I'll fill you in later."

Hopper stomps into the clearing, the loudness of his voice rupturing the reunion. You watch him writhe with agitation, the polar opposite to the hardened, stoic appearance he maintains as the chief of police. His brows pinch together, and bleeding through his eyes, is a dizzying mixture of pain and relief.

"The Hell is this? Where have you been?" His words are laced with irritation masking actual concern - a father chiding his daughter for giving him a scare.

"Where have you been?" She snaps back just as fast.

But, almost immediately, Eleven sinks into his massive arms, which he wraps so tightly around her it's as if he's frightened she'll slip away through his fingers like sand. The girl has always looked so small, the antithesis of the power she secretly wields. She seems so feeble in the arms of Hopper, who looks as if he never wishes to let go of her ever again. It's touching, and you place your fingertips to your heart in response to this delicate display of affection; Steve sees, and takes your free hand into his to give it a supportive squeeze.

Unfortunately, Mike interrupts.

"You've been hiding her," He accuses. "You've been hiding her this whole time!"

Hopper releases El from his vice-like grip, cutting his eyes at the boy whose face contorts with the bitterness of betrayal.

"Hey!" The chief bellows, cowing Mike to quieten. "Let's talk. Alone."

He paces away from the girl, gripping the struggling Mike by the arm and absconding themselves into the neighbouring room, shutting away prying eyes with a slam of the door.

Since nothing interesting can be heard from the room, each and every pair of eyes peels away from the locked door, back to Eleven. Already, Dustin and Lucas fly in, scooping her up in their arms and breathing one singular sigh.