Shatter [Jonathan Byers] Stranger Things II

XXVII: Strained

strained

adjective

showing signs of tiredness or nervous tension.

Emilia rolled over and snuggled herself into Jonathan; the warmth of the bed could not compare to that of Jonathan's body next to her. She'd spent the Saturday night with him, as she usually did, and Sunday morning crept up faster than she had wanted. Though she did not sleep well, and felt unrested, in that moment where she snuggled closer to Jonathan she felt as though nothing in the world could go wrong. Of course, there was an early lunch with Lindsey O'Brien's daughter, Grace, that Emilia had to face.

She had instigated it, however, she was worried that it would not go well. Something dark and cold sat in her gut, and so she shut her blue eyes shut as tight as possible, drowning out the morning for a little while longer. Her mind drifted to other things, such as the night Steve came to Hopper's, helping her out when he car died. She hadn't told Jonathan, for some reason it felt wrong that she hadn't, but it also felt wrong anytime she went to tell him.

Nothing had happened, of course, and Emilia was just seeing Steve in a new light, the light that shined on friends.

Turning so that she was facing Jonathan now, she saw his eyes flutter open. Soft hazel eyes studied her, and a smile crept onto his face, looking oddly mischievous. He mumbled something that sounded like "good morning" and then kissed her, gently at first. Just a small peck, and then he kissed her again and it was deeper, more intense. She kissed back, raising her hand to his shoulder, feeling muscle and bone underneath her palm. Pushing him so that he was on his back, she clambered gracefully on top of him, lips still locked.

She peeled off the shirt of his that she was wearing, and Jonathan's hands slid along the soft skin of her back, up to her shoulder blades, and then around to her breasts. The heat of the moment swept away the rest of the morning, making Emilia's mind go absolutely blank for the time. They were silent, as silent as possible as they could be tangled within one another.

Afterwards Emilia laid on her side and stroked Jonathan's smooth cheek, then ran her fingers through his light brown hair. She didn't want to get up that Sunday morning, and in fact she wanted to lay in bed like this all day. If the world could stop turning for just one day, she would be in bliss. But alas, she eventually dragged herself out of bed, sliding her shirt and pants back on, then glanced over her shoulder at Jonathan who was still in bed. He was propped up on his elbow, studying her as she dressed.

"You're showering?" he asked.

She nodded, "I'd ask you to join me, but..."

He grinned, "But I can already hear mum and Will making breakfast."

She nodded, then stuck out her tongue, "Next time, then."

After she had showered and dressed, leaving her hair damp and cascading naturally over her shoulders, Emilia sauntered into the kitchen. Joyce greeted her, and Will glanced in her direction. She noticed that something was wrong in the way Will looked at her, and she wanted to reach out and hug his tiny frame, to tell him that things were going to be okay. But she didn't believe those words, she knew that things were getting worse inside of his head, just as they were hers. She cast him a knowing glance, it was all she could offer in that moment.

Emilia had only taken a bite of an apple when Jonathan entered the kitchen, showered as well. He glanced at the clock, "We're going to be late."