mike wheeler.
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we're laying on her bed, legs intertwined as her head rests on my chest.
after the guys left, she lit the fire, easily, using her mind powers to start it. awe played a few board games, some card games, and snuggled on the couch to watch tv.
she's asleep, and still so, so beautiful. it's 11:35. hopper had a late shift, apparently. i yawn, and lay my head down on the soft feather pillow.
jane's room is clean. of course, she hardly has anything to put in it, but has a few photos up on the wall of her and other people. beside that, is a box. it's only a small box, but i squint my eyes at it to see the small writing on the side. it says, in a neat handwriting, 'michael wheeler.'
i look at jane, who is a heavy sleeper, and untangle my limbs from hers as i step out of the small bed, walking towards the box. as i open a lid, i bite my lip, gently. inside the box are a bunch of photos and the headband she wore at the snowball. i tilted my head, picking a photo up, slowly.
it was of us, at the snowball. we were so scared, and awkward. i remember when jonathan took it, right after we kissed. i smiled, putting the photo down as i took another one out, this time it was just me on my own. my back was facing the camera, the sun hidden behind me as the sunset reflected onto the sky.
i looked at a few more, including two polaroids that my mum took on halloween. i chuckled. jonathan would be proud, i thought, as i put the photo back in the box, closing the lid as i laid back down near jane, who slightly shifted over in the bed. i wrapped my arms around her, and she buried her face into my chest again.
i looked at the time, biting my lip. it would be risky to fall asleep here, but my mum would have a spasm if i came home at 12:17 in the morning, and jane's arms were already wrapped protectively around my body. i weighed out my options, as i closed my eyes, relaxing, as i attempted to drift off to sleep.
jane hopper.
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i woke up at eight three zero four, to the voice of my adoptive father, jim hopper. he gently knocked on my room door, sounding tired. he must've gotten home late last night. i heard his footsteps walk away as i shut my eyes again, feeling the sun glare at me through the window blinds.
oh, yeah. last night, i thought, casually. "last night." i repeated, loudly, my eyes shooting open. i looked behind me, where a certain shirtless boy laid, his arms around my waist in what looked like an uncomfortable position. i blushed, as i lowered my voice, whispering into his ear.
"mike, your shirt," i smiled. he opened his eyes, slowly. "el?," he said, and chuckled. i frowned, slightly. "what's funny?," i asked, gently. he rested his hand on my neck. it felt really sensitive. i looked up, into a small mirror that hung above my bed head. three small purple marks were there.
my eyes shot open, and i looked at mike, my face as serious as ever. "mike!," i whisper yelled, hitting him with a pillow, gently. he kinda smirked, sitting up. "oh, shit- el, i'll explain it to you later, i gotta sneak home and get nancy's make up. stay in your room."
i pursed my lips, looking at the door. "you have ten minutes, be quick," i said, and i grabbed the key off my bedside table, running to open the window. "don't hurt yourself," i said, softly, and watched him climb out as he kissed my cheek, gently. "i'll be back soon," he said, and i watched him run down the long driveway to grab his bike he hid behind some trees.
i sighed, leaning on the window ceil as i watched him ride away. i placed a hand on my neck, smiling, gently. what on earth happened to my neck.
"kid?," i heard hopper ask. i bit my lip, standing up as i walked towards the door. "i'm getting, uh, changed!," i shout. i hear his footsteps come closer. "okay, kid. breakfasts on the table, i start work at one today."
he walks away as i shout okay as a reply, and turn around, looking at the drive way, waiting for mike, impatiently. a few minutes later, i hear the wheels of his bike shift the gravel around. i look up. michael wheeler chucks his bike to the side, into the bushes, running towards my window as he climbs in, narrowly out of hopper's sight. he's panting, and catches his breath for a few seconds.
i smile, and he hands me a brush and some powder as i look into the mirror, covering the few marks up quickly. he bites his lip, and flashes a smile to me. i avoid his eyes, pursing my lips. he walks up behind me, leaning his head on my shoulder. i turn around, placing my arms on his shoulders, and he wraps his arms around my waist.
i giggle, and suddenly we hear hopper. he's walking towards my door. "hey, kid, you finished in there yet?," he asked, gently. i looked at mike, who shook his head, wanting more time. so, i open the door. "makeup," i say, hoping he'll understand. i hear him mumble something, but ignore it. "okay, kid. well, hurry up."
i shut the door again, and turn to mike, who is sitting on my bed. "so, el. michael wheeler, huh?," he smirks. i hide my face, groaning and blushing. "shut it, wheeler," i say. he pretends to zip his mouth shut. i sit next to him, laughing.
"memory box," i say, gently. he smiled. "for me?," he teases, poking my nose. i smile, but it slowly fades as we notice the car pulling up in the driveway.
it's just a plain beige car, but is all too familiar. so are the drivers inside it. as mike looks up, he's burning holes into the car, and slowly, he crawls onto the floor, ducking underneath the window ceil.
nancy wheeler and Jonathan byers step out of the car,
their hands intertwined, and no doubt, are looking for mike.
