ˏˋ°•*⁀➷【 𝙖𝙪𝙧𝙖 ! 】
ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍʏ
ꜱᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ
─𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝
steve harrington
has one last
chance to win
over the girl of
his dreams...
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN, you're my mess. ⋆.ೃ࿔*
"AM I DOING IT RIGHT?"
Emmy couldn't help but giggle at Steve's anxious words, recognizing the pressure he was under. "Just take your time, Harrington. Try not to make it worse," She reassures him, her laughter lightening the moment.
At that current moment, Steve was determined to erase the mascara streaks that marred Emmy's cheeks, remnants of tears shed earlier in the evening. When she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a wave of panic washed over her; she looked terrible. The chaos of the night still echoed in her mind, and she craved a sense of normalcy after the disorienting experience of being drugged.
Initially, when Steve had offered to help her clean up, she had laughed in disbelief, unable to imagine him as her beauty savior. But seeing the earnestness in his eyes, she realized he was genuinely committed to helping her feel better. With a playful roll of her eyes, she relented, allowing him to take the lead in this unusual moment.
The teenager instructed him to grab some paper towels and dampen them with water. As Steve awkwardly navigated the task, trying to gauge just the right amount of moisture, his brow furrowed in concentration. Emmy felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. Here was someone who, despite the earlier disarray, was willing to step up and engage in this simple yet intimate act of helping her regain her composure. Their laughter filled the room, mingling with the lingering tension and transforming her initial embarrassment into something warm and comforting. In that moment, they shared a connection that made the night's turmoil feel a little less daunting.
She chose to keep her eyes on him, intently observing his movements. "Maybe just a bit more to the left," She suggests, humming as he gently dabbed at her cheeks. The atmosphere began to shift, transforming from anxiety to playful harmony. In that fleeting moment, surrounded by the echoes of the night's madness, they discovered a sense of lightness that hung in the air like a fragile bubble. It was a poignant reminder that even in the darkest times, the warmth of friendship could bring unexpected joy, illuminating their shared experience in a way that made everything feel a little more bearable.
Steve let out a deep breath after a minute and announced, "I think I'm all set." He nodded at Emmy, who raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his efforts, before turning to look in the mirror.
A giggle escaped her lips as she took in the sight; in her eyes, he had done a surprisingly decent job. "I mean... I've got to give you your props," She says, her voice light.
While her face wasn't completely free of mascara stains—something she hadn't realistically expected—it was at least somewhat presentable. However, her clothes were still a disheveled mess, stained and bloodied from earlier events, and dark circles under her eyes portrayed her lack of sleep. Honestly, she looked awful. "Do I look a mess?" She inquires, a hint of self-deprecation lacing her words.
