❛ 𝔦 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔦'𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢. ❜
→ * . & ━━ a girl by the name
of sar, who can walk through dreams, finds
herself drawn to her hometown and into a
bigger m...
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"ALL RIGHT. IT SHOULD FIT NOW." The crashing noises from the fridge had kept Sar awake for the past five minutes, no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut.
Sar heard Steve's sigh. "Is this really necessary, dude?"
"Yes it is, okay? This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery, we can't just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It's not a dog!" Dustin exclaimed, and Sar pressed her hands over her ears in an attempt to stop the noise.
The damp cloth was cool against her closed eyes, water droplets gathered on her forehead. She was propped up on the couch after receiving a massive headache again. She seemed to still be getting aftershocks from her powers.
The kids were in the next room, cleaning up the mess as ordered by Steve. Now he and Dustin were trying some stupid idea to put the demo-dog in the fridge.
She groaned as the noise of the fridge jostling around seeped through her clasped hands. "You're explaining this to Mrs Byers, all right?" Steve said to Dustin. Her feet were propped up on the other arm-rest but no matter which way she turned, she couldn't get comfortable. And every inch of noise sent pain straight into her skull.
This time, Sar pressed her fingers over her eyes, feeling the wet cloth bead water over her forehead. The cold cloth was at least supposed to dull her headaches.
She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Hey." Steve's voice was quiet and soothing. He knew the aftershocks of her powers she was feeling. "Everything okay?"
She nodded slowly, trying to prevent as many headaches as possible. She knew her lips were dry. "Okay," she repeated. "Just uncomfortable." After a moment of silence and Steve's hand still on her shoulder, she reached up and slipped the cloth from her eyes. The lamplight stung them and she winced, raising her hands to cover the brightness.
Steve sat down beside her hip, hand moving to press at her waist. His gaze was worried and comforting, but he winced as she turned her head back to face him. She was still littered in bruises from the drainage of her powers, particularly around the bridge of her nose, where the blood dripped from.
Sar sat silently for a moment, staring at the wall with her hands on her knees. "Why does this shit keep happening to us? Why can't it just all be normal now." Her nails danced across the scarred skin of her fingers and fell on the black ink tattoo on her wrist. They dug slightly into the pattern of numbers.
"I don't know," Steve said, gently pulling her hand away before she could damage herself. He lay it in his own hand, and Sar watched as she gently looped their fingers together. "But I'm glad I met you."
Her eyes moved up to meet his, sloped and filled with a hundred emotions. Her lips parted to speak but no words found her tongue.
They were close—so close she could see the constellations of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Her eyes ran across the slope of his cheekbones, across his jaw and chin, and soft, soft lips, and his hair that flopped over his copper eyes. His eyes were probably her favourite feature of his: all storms of bronze and copper and caramel, but ever-so gentle.
