I've Already Told You Everything // Stranger Things

Glow

She was meek and disturbingly reserved. Mike knew she had a wild side, but only Mike knew this side of her. Her body quivered internally while her legs folded over each other. Her arms crossed over her mid section, in an attempt to stabilize herself. He could tell she was nervous by her body language. The dingy yellow room reeked with musty—and only partially filthy—comforters that they stuffed into the closet. It was the only hotel room Mike could afford for 5 days. He didn't want to ask his mother for money, because she had taken care of the funeral. Not to mention after Karen and Ted divorced, they went into a spiraling downfall financially. Mike was scared to see his father while in New York. He didn't want to run into him or his new wife. He missed Holly though; he wanted to see her. He spoke to her at the funeral, but other than that they only talk about twice a year.

Eleven noticed that Mike was on edge. He paced around the hotel room, trying to quicken his process of getting ready. She started to worry when heavy purple bags formed under his eyes. Freckles that once popcorned across his complexion, are now fading away like a memory. His hair stuck up in all directions; he didn't care what it looked like anymore. Sometimes he would put a hat on if her really cared.

"Are you ready?" He huffed. She stood up and brushed her shirt down.

"I've been ready for the past hour." She didn't mean to sound condescending. Mike gives her a look. He snatches the keys of the bureau and trudges out the door. He didn't even wait for Eleven to catch up with him, he just slammed the door. She didn't like it when he acted like this. She felt like she had done something to make him act like this.

He hates me. Why am I such a burden?

Even though she hadn't done anything wrong, she couldn't help but feel this way. Knowing that Mike was probably already in the car waiting for her, she left the hotel room with an ache in her stomach. In the elevator she contemplated on whether she would talk to him in the car or not. Either way, she'd be forced to talk to him. This was supposed to be a "romantic date" like Mike had put it. They were in New York for god sake; they were going to take advantage of that.

Her heels struck against the sidewalk with light force. She was in no rush to get in the car. Mike sat out front with one hand draped over the steering wheel, and with the other hand he bit his thumb. He watched her as she opened the door and buckled herself quickly. She was too afraid to look at him, but he stared at her for a moment. She glanced her eyes to his, and his expression stayed the same. Her bottom lip quivered.

"Please don't break up with me." He jumped back and his eyes went wide. He shook his head and placed a hand on her cheek.

"Eleven I wouldn't dream of it. What in the world would make you think that I wanted to break up with you?" Her tone was now controlled—she wasn't going to cry.

"You were just really mad, weren't you?" Regret filled his heart.

"Yes but not at you! I'm sorry. I've just been stressed out lately. Bear with me here! You're all I got." He smiled at her and she beamed back. He planted a small kiss on the side of her mouth and began to drive. Elevens main concern was lifted off of her chest, and she could suddenly breathe again. Mike has to teach her not to overreact so much.

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Eleven stumbled into the hotel room with Mike close behind her. He knees wobbled and her head felt like it could lift right off of her shoulders at any moment. On the other hand, Mike was stable. He guided Eleven to a chair to sit her down so she could collect herself. She slumped over in the chair, ready to pass out right then and there. But she didn't though. She just hung her head and giggled to herself. She had seen how happy Mike felt when he was drunk, so she wanted to feel the same way. Mike stood at the sink, pouring cold water into a glass. He placed it on the table next to her and she looked up. Her pupils were dilated to a small size. She took a small sip of the water then slammed it back on the table—some of the water sloshed out. She stood up slowly and hobbled over to Mike who now leaned against the counter. Her body was only inches from his, and this made him nervous. She put her hands on his shoulders and ran them all the way down his chest. He could feel his face heating up and a small sweat droplet form on his forehead. She gripped the sides of his jacket and pulled him close to her. Her open mouth kissed his wildly. She tasted like the bottle of Chardonnay she finished by herself. As their kiss became more sloppy, Eleven dragged Mike over to their bed. She pushed him down and was quick to straddle him. He would have liked this if she wasn't drunk. She leaned down and began to kiss along his jawline. Her lips stung his skin; like a chemical reaction that wouldn't end well. He felt strange about doing anything with her while she was like this. It felt wrong.

"Hey uh Eleven?" He had to interrupt her in order to get her attention. She stopped and looked at him admirably.

"Maybe we should save this for when you're...not drunk." She protruded her bottom lip with frown, then she smirked.

"Are you scared, Mikey?" He leaned up on his elbows and gulped.

"No, I just don't want to do anything you'll regret later." She rolled her eyes, then bowed off of Mike, flopping onto the empty space next to him. She cuddled up next to him in a fetal position. He prayed that she was falling asleep, and he was right.

"You're A good guy Mike." She said before dozing off. A smile plastered over Mikes face, but he knew Eleven would have a killer headache in the morning.