STONATHAN - what I love about you. / COMPLETED!/

Are You Even Listening To Me?

"Steve? Are you at home?" Steve's dad's voice roared from downstairs.
Steve's throat was still sore and he didn't feel like making it worse by yelling.
He took a deep breath, heading downstairs to meet his father, getting ready for the inevitable confrontation that would ensure.
"Haven't you been at school, son?"
And that was it. This was Steve's dad in a nutshell; no: hello, son, how was your day? No. It was always just as matter of casting blame with him.
Steve considered lying, but he figured he might as well cut the bull and tell the truth.
"I was sick, dad, so I stayed home. Is that a crime?" Steve said, annoyance dripping from his voice.
"You were sick? Uhu... and how about your grades, son? Do your grades allow you to skip school?"
"I didn't skip school, dad, I was ill! And frankly, I still am, so if you would just leave me the hell alone, that would be great."
"No, you see, Steve, this isn't how his works. You don't get to tell me what to do." Steve's dad scoffed.
Steve was feeling too tired, too hurt to deal with his father's crap right now, so he just turned around on his heels, turning his back on his dad, ignoring him, as he headed upstairs to his own room again.
"Hey, we're not finished here, son!"
But all Steve did was smack the door closed, flinging his weary body on the bed, praying that his dad would drop his bullshit and leave him alone. As he lay there on the bed, he longed for Jonathan Byers more strongly than he had ever longed for him before. He even considered calling him, but decided against it. Why was it so damn difficult to be away from him? Why did it feel so wrong when he wasn't? Why did life feel so empty and meaningless and dull whenever they were apart?
"Jesus, boy, you've messed me up!" Steve mumbled to himself, as he finally drifted off to sleep, a gigantic smile on his face, as the image of Jonathan surged through his mind, making his feverish body feel both freezing cold and hot at the same time.