YOU NEVER SAW ME | m.w.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

-

C H A P T E R  E L E V E N  :

" CURIOSITY VOYAGES PART TWO "

･ ｡ﾟ ⋆✩⋆  ･ ｡ﾟ

･ ｡ﾟ  ･ ｡ﾟ

| D E C E M B E R  24th , 1986 |

H a w k i n s , I n d i a n a

"NOPE. I CALL SHOTGUN."

Steve called out behind Billy as he opened the passenger door—only to be forced to stop in his actions.

"Screw you, Harrington."
He muttered with a dramatic sigh, only joking before walking to the back seat door, only to have to wait for Max and Eleven to file into the very back seat—the third row of the car.

"Put on your seatbelt, Max. You too, El."
Billy demanded, seeing that she settled down in her seat without doing so.

Only when Max and El listened to his demand, did Billy then sit in the back seat, along with Mike and Will next to him in the second row of the car.

The entire group had decided to split into two cars, and to just meet at the town library, so the other half of the group was in the other car.

Robin took the wheel next to Steve, and just like that, they were on their way.

The entire car was silent except for Robin and Steve discussing the secret Russian invasion of Hawkins, and how they couldn't believe they might be right about the meaning of the note.

But Mike had his mind on other things.

He stared out the car window, passing by the his neighborhood of houses that had light snow sprinkled along their lawns like his house had.

Snow.

Snow meant that Christmas was surely coming, and amidst all the chaos in the search for Hopper and Y/N, Christmas was but a distant thought.

Mike couldn't care less about Christmas at that moment—all he wanted, was Y/N.

Y/N loved the snow, he remembered that.

Ever since they were kids, Y/N and Mike always had the tradition of having a snowball fight—more like war, to be honest.

Y/N would always take it so seriously, always insisting on making a barricade before they began the war, and her tactic must've worked because she always managed to win over Mike.

She would always wear this parka jacket—one that must've been too large for her at her young age, and Mike could remember every detail of it.

He could almost feel the way the fabric of her gloved hand felt against his own hand as she would lead him to help her build a snowman or make snow angels.

He could almost smell the way her jacket used to smell of her perfume and the woody smell of the cabin she lived in.

He could so vividly see her smile every time he threw a snowball at her, and it hit.