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IT WAS WEIRD how something even as small as Steve Harrington's upstairs bathroom could fill Valentina with a violent rush of nostalgia. This was the bathroom she almost passed out in the first time she tried edibles. This was the bathroom she got her first period in, and she made Steve run across the street to ask Alicia for help. Now that Valentina thought about it, this bathroom didn't contain the fondest of memories. Nevertheless, it made her smile to think that she was standing in it once again after everything that happened.
As the girl waited for the water to heat up, she took it upon herself to snoop around Steve's bathroom. It wasn't connected to his bedroom, so technically it wasn't his, but his parents had their own lavish bathroom in the master bedroom and there was another one located downstairs, so Steve essentially claimed this one as his.
His hygiene products and tools were scattered around the sink, uniquely distributed in a way that Valentina could tell was his own personal doing. She eyed the toothbrush laying face down on the porcelain counter rather than placed neatly in the blue ceramic holder that his mom definitely bought, and imagined him lazily tossing it there with toothpaste dripping down his chin. She wasn't sure whether to gag at the thought of the bristles collecting germs then transferring to his mouth, or to grin at the thought of white foam teasing down his jaw.
She shuddered.
Looking away from the sink, partially because of the guilty thoughts consuming her brain and partially because of the mirror above it that revealed her blushed skin, Valentina knelt down to explore the cabinet beneath the sink. Inside was a bunch of stacked items; the usual, like q-tips, boxes of unopened soap bars, and the towels that Steve had told her were down there. She reached in to grab one, but accidentally knocked over a metal can. She went to pick it up and place it down again, not thinking anything of it, but paused when she saw a blonde woman's face plastered on the front of it.
"Holy shit," Valentina beamed, the widest of grins pulling at her lips.
Valentina pulled the can of Farrah Fawcett Spray out from the cabinet and placed it on the counter, plotting up the different ways she could tease Steve about this. That's how he gets his hair so... so Steve, she thought.
She looked into the mirror again, noticing that the edges were fogged up with steam from the shower. The water must be hot by now. Valentina stripped herself of her clothes—Steve's clothes, which she almost forgot she was wearing by how comfortable they were.
The smell of Steve's cologne and natural scent had been overcome by Valentina's sweat and the day's grime, but she still felt like she was wearing him with the clothes on. Her skin formed goosebumps as the cold air replaced where the clothes were, and she quickly threw them on the floor to jump in the shower.
Steve's shower was strangely clean, the opposite of his sink. She hoped that didn't meant he neglected his bodily hygiene.
The water went down the drain perfectly, a stark contrast to Valentina's shower. Hers was always clogged with her long hair, and same with her mother's. She assumed it was just a girl-thing. His soap dish was spotless, while hers always had a stingy layer of scum caked onto it. Maybe I'm just dirty, she started to think. Or lazy.
