A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song If It Makes You Happy by Sheryl Crow, which I have been listening to on repeat for the last 3 hours. This one is set at the end of Season 5, but there aren't a ton of major spoilers for the finale. I hope you all enjoy it.
Steve had been pretty sure he was having halucination when he'd turned around and spotted you at the other end of the aisle in the grocery store. I mean, he was almost certain that the last time you two had spoken on the phone, just a couple of weeks ago, you had still been out in California, and at the time, you'd not had any plans in place to visit home.
But, after a couple of double takes, and a full 30 seconds of pressing his eyes tightly closed in front of the pretty extensive chip selection, he'd realised that he wasn't dreaming at all. You were standing right there, reading the back of a pack of Ruffles like you thought that reading the ingredients would magically make the 'bad' ingredients disappear from the list.
He'd approached you slowly, his brow furrowed as he cleared his throat to get your attention, watching as your head shot up, your eyes widening as they landed on him.
"Steve-"
"What're you doing back in town?" he interjected, immediately reaching to drag you into a hug that was way overdue. "Thought you weren't back until Thanksgiving," he pressed, squeezing you a little tighter before releasing you completely.
"I'm just, uh-" you paused, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "I dropped out of school," you confessed, looking so damn stressed about having to tell someone that he almost felt bad for asking.
"Shit-"
"It's not a big deal," you pressed on, shoving the pack of chips that you were still clinging to awkwardly into your cart. "I just don't think college was really for me," you added softly.
He nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. "So, are you going to be in town for long, or-"
"I'm moved back in with Mom. Applied for a couple of jobs in town. Not going anywhere for a while."
"Great," Steve started, before catching himself. "I mean, not great that you dropped out, but great that you're here, and we can hang out and-"
"I'd like that," you interjected, offering him a small smile.
Hell, a couple of months back, Steve had been heartbroken when he'd told you to stop thinking about him and be selfish for once. He'd practically forced you to leave town to go to college. And ever since, during your monthly phone calls, you'd sounded so happy. You'd kept telling him about how great your new college friends were, how much fun you were having at Stanford. And now, suddenly, without warning, you were home because it wasn't really for you. So sure, he was happy you were home, but he was a little confused.
"Are you still at your parents' place?" you hummed, watching him nod quickly. "I could swing by this evening? I'll bring dinner, and we could watch a movie?"
"Perfect," he breathed softly, nodding again. "Yeah."
*Time Skip*
You'd never felt this nervous before, standing on Steve's front porch with a pizza and a couple of VHS tapes, waiting as you heard his steps approaching the front door. Shit, you'd known Steve since you were kids. Your dads had worked together. Your families had holidayed together. You knew Steve better than you knew anyone else in the world, and yet, you were still so nervous that your stomach was tying itself up in knots.
When he opened the door, you plastered a false smile onto your lips, holding up the pizza as if you were delivering a prize rather than a pretty crappy dinner.
"Finally," he chuckled, grabbing it from your hands. "I'm starving," he added, gesturing for you to come in and then shutting the door behind you. "Beer?"
"Please," you hummed, following him into a kitchen you knew backwards and sitting yourself at the counter, watching as he grabbed two bottles and opened them both, holding one in your direction.
"So," he started, flipping the lid of the pizza box open on the counter between you. "Are you going to actually tell me why you dropped out?"
You froze, your hand half outstretched towards the pizza, your gaze flicking up to find him watching you carefully, waiting for you to try and lie to him.
"I wasn't going to pass-"
"Bullshit," he breathed out. "You're the smartest person I know," he pressed on. "You were valedictorian without having a second spare to study because you were too busy fighting monsters with me," he told you. "So, what was the real reason?"
You hesitated for a moment, swallowing down the lump forming in your throat before letting out a soft sigh. "I hated California. I hated my classmates. I hated the school," you breathed out quickly.
His brow furrowed slightly. "But, you said-"
"I lied, Steve," you bit out. "I didn't want you to think that I was out there on my own, miserable, because I knew you would try and convince me to stay, okay? So I lied to you, and I told you that it was great, and I was happy, and I had these amazing friends, and I didn't. I was on my own, and I was scared, and I didn't know how to make it better, so I quit."
"Sweetheart," he hummed softly, his expression softening. "You should've told me," he breathed, and God, the way he was watching you made your stomach turn over. Steve had always been protective of you; he'd always gone out of his way to make your life easier. And now, here he was, looking like a kicked puppy because you'd been lying to him for months. "If you weren't happy, I would've told you to come home, Sweetheart. I would've told you that I missed you and I was miserable too, and that all I really wanted was for you to come home, but you sounded so happy."
"I'm sorry for lying to you," you murmured, watching as Steve stood fully upright, rushing around the counter to tug you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you, his chin resting on the top of your head.
"I'm sorry for forcing you to go," he uttered. "I shouldn't have pushed you."
You sniffled, your hands gripping the front of his t-shirt tightly, keeping him close. "Were you really miserable too?"
"Sweetheart, I missed you so much, and a measly 20-minute phone call once a month wasn't really cutting it." He hesitated for a moment, considering his next sentence carefully. "Kept thinking about how if I hadn't pushed you and you hadn't gone to California, I probably would've asked you to be my girlfriend."
You jolted back slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"Sorry, I-"
"Steve," you interrupted, stopping him before he could truly apologise. "I would've said yes."
"Yeah?"
You nodded slightly. "Kinda thought you would ask when we were in high school, but then you never did, and I-" you trailed off, shrugging. "I thought maybe you didn't like me like that."
Steve leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss, his hand lifting to cup your cheek, the warmth of his palm sinking through your skin. As he pulled away, his eyes landed on yours, his forehead pressed to yours. "I like you so much," he breathed, his words fanning over your lips. "Please never leave town again."
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