Royal Pain || Stranger Things

eleven || fabergé

The house clock struck midnight as the library door was jimmied open, creaking loud in entry. Tatum, dressed down in a tank and sleep shorts with soft sleep in her eyes, flicked on the overhead light and cracked the door shut behind her.

She barely knew where to start.

Tatum took a seat in her father's overpriced rolling chair, taking in a deep breath before going over each drawer and unlocking them all. She left the nail files on the desk, opening the same drawer she had found the cocaine inside.

There wasn't much more than legal documents outlining their move to the US, including Elena's documentation as well as her and her father's dual citizenship forms.

In the second there were old manuscripts he couldn't bear to get rid of and if he did the same as he used to in England, would set them around his typewriter to remind him of his successes when he had writer's block. They looked untouched since being placed in the drawer.

In the bottom right, a smaller and more portable typewriter that he would take to cafes if in dire straits.

"Come on, Dad," she muttered, switching to the other set of drawers.

An unethical amount of unused notepads and pens.

A collection of mixtapes made to match each of his published novels, each filled with the ambiance songs used for pivotal moments.

A few, most prized awards given to him throughout the years.

And absolutely nothing unusual.

Tatum grudgingly relocked each of the desk drawers, running a flustered hand through her hair. "Where are you keeping your manuscript?"

"Does he make you wait until they're published?"

Tatum's head shot up, doing her best to casually set the nail files on the desk.

Standing in the doorway of the library, Billy wiped the sleep from his eyes the best he could, wearing nothing but his boxers and a loose silver chain around his neck.

"No," she replied as she stood from behind the desk. "It's a game. When my dad's working on a book and he leaves for a trip or meeting, he hides it around the house for me to find. I've been looking for it since they left earlier today. He's been doing it since I was a kid and it kind of stayed a tradition."

Billy smiled lightly. "That's sweet. Do you want me to help?"

"It's okay." Tatum looped her arms around his neck, kissing his collarbone. "I've got to do it by myself or it breaks tradition. Go back to bed."

"I think I might get in the pool, actually," he replied, hands tracing slowly up her back. "If you want to take a break from your hunt."

Tatum's brows quirked. "Did you bring a swimsuit?"

"Did I say anything about a swimsuit?"

Grinning as he let go of her waist, she unfortunately denied the offer. "I should keep looking for a little while longer."

"If you change your mind, you know where I'll be," Billy said with a wink, disappearing down the hall.

It wasn't long before a residual splash sounded, breaking her train of thought as she attempted to return to the poorly organized investigation.

The elephant in the room seemed to speak to her.

Tatum's attention turned to the bare, rolling corkboard situated to the left of the room, a board well-loved overtime, having brought him through half of his published works to connect plot points and characters.