Every Breath You Take

6

"Wonder if he'll be mad at us for being two minutes late." I breathe, tapping my fingers on the door handle of Steve's car as we turn into Dustin's neighborhood, running off of maybe six hours of sleep.

After gathering an ungodly amount of meat, being sent into some out of body experience at the super market, and getting asked to be Steve's girlfriend yesterday, we still had to do a lot more before we got to go back to Steve's.

"We were tired. It's practically eight o'clock like he asked." Steve shrugs.

I smirk, reminiscing on the second night spent at his house the night previous, filled with laughs, Steve's arms around me, the movie "Risky Business" in the background in honor of our matching halloween costumes.

"We got to bed too late." I groan, rubbing my hands over my tired eyes.

"We were preoccupied." Steve smirks as he looks at me through the corner of his eye, and I feel those all-familiar butterflies take off in my stomach.

"I had a really nice night." I smile back, a pink blush painted across my cheeks as I adjust the hem of Steve's navy sweatshirt on my body.

"You look adorable in my sweater." He practically reads my mind, placing his right hand on the middle of my thigh.

I briefly look at his hand, before looking back to him and trying to regain my composure, "You think?"

"I know." Steve states matter-of-factly. He begins to move his thumb back and forth overtop the jeans covering my thigh, and I sigh a small breath of relief at the contact.

Steve makes me feel so safe amidst all this chaos, but I'm still anticipating what's to come today.

Dustin's small frame appears in our view, his dorky headset and walkie all geared up and his eyes burning into our soul as we pull into his driveway.

Steve parks the car, exiting the vehicle and walking around to my side.

"Oh god." I groan as Steve opens the passenger door to let me out, "look at him."

"Like a kid who was just told no to candy." Steve laughs, slinging an arm over my shoulders as we approach the trunk of his car.

"Look who it is!" Dustin muses as he walks towards us, talking at a volume too loud for my ears at the moment. His walkie beeps, signaling that his message was received by whichever boy was on the other end.

Steve yanks out a few buckets of meat, and I help him set them down on the pavement one by one.

"Where did you get all of this?" Dustin crinkles his eyebrows, and as I'm about to tell him a real answer, Steve comes up with his own idea.

"You don't want to know." He wiggles his eyebrow ominously.

Dustin rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the walkie, "Well, while you were busy having sister problems, dart grew again. He literally escaped, and I'm pretty sure he's a baby demagorgan."

"Aw." I coo, earning a weird look from Steve.

"What, when he puts the word baby in front of it I'm automatically going to thing its cute." I shrug.

Steve laughs, combining the several buckets of meat together, in order to carry them more efficiently, "when you do anything, I'm automatically going to find it cute."

Before I can respond, Dustin shoves a pickaxe in my face.

"What's this?" I hesitantly grab onto the handle.

"A pickaxe." He replies.

"Yes, but what for?"

"To fight dart." Dustin rolls his eyes.