STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES
Imagines dedicated to Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
FORMERLY JONATHAN BYERS IMAGINES
STARTED IN 2018
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The small diner on the corner of the quiet street was the perfect meeting place for a couple of kids. Away from the eyes of watchful parents, secluded enough that you weren't surrounded by other teenagers you knew, and the place that did the best hot chocolates in town, when Steve suggested it as your meeting place for every Saturday night you spent together, you agreed wholeheartedly, not even thinking about the consequences. And all those years ago, it seemed like the perfect place to spend time together, to sit next to each other in a booth and sip a warm drink in the winter and share a bowl of fries.
But now, no longer two raggedy school kids, when you opened the door to the diner and walked in, you wished those once beloved memories were no longer yours. Stepping inside, you realised that what was normally a warm and welcoming place that ordinarily made you feel safe and comfortable, was actually cold, dark, shadowy and uninviting. Steve sat in the last booth near the back away from the main counter and the interested eyes of the late-night staff. For a man that was only 19, he looked exhausted beyond his years, hair falling over his eyes and holes in the sleeves of his old sweater. He wasn't the usual well-kept Steve that you were used to seeing, and that was okay, because you weren't the same person you were all those years ago, either.
The two of you had dated for three years, throughout high school, fought monsters together and survived your teenage years together. Somehow, you truly believed that the two of you would make it to the end, get that happy ending that you both deserved. But that never happened, and you knew it as soon as Steve called you up and asked up to meet him at the diner at eleven in the evening.
When he saw you, he sent you a tight-lipped smile and you headed over, sliding into the booth and sitting across from him. Neither of you exchanged greetings, you both just stared down at the worn tabletop, you focusing on your nails and him picking at the edges of his sweater sleeves. The waitress came over and poured two cups of coffee, giving you a smile and telling to order when you were ready, but both Steve and you knew that neither of you would be here long enough to order, let alone have a look at the menu.
Steve started speaking then, words hushed and head down, still not making eye contact with you. You weren't surprised by the words that came spilling out of his mouth, quiet and sombre in a way that made you feel cold and small inside, but you pushed those nasty feelings away and listened.
"I...I think we should break up." He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back, before placing his hands flat against the table. "This isn't working anymore; we're not working anymore. It's time to move on, it's not like we can stay like this forever." You wanted that to be a lie, you wanted to be with him for forever. You wanted him to be your one and only, the person you spent the rest of your life with, but you knew, deep down, that that dream had been dead for ages, died the night you didn't feel anything when you kissed him, when you didn't feel the warmth you always felt when he held you.
You sat there, staring at him in silence, and when he finally looked up, he frantically searched your face for any sign of disagreement, for a glimpse of sign telling him he was wrong, that he was making the worst decision he ever could. But he didn't, and he hung his head down in defeat.
"You don't look surprised." He muttered that statement out, voice breaking softly, as you moved to touch his hand gently, before remembering yourself and pulling away.
"I'm not. I'm honestly wondering why we didn't do this sooner. Why we kept acting like we could go on like this for longer." You knew your words were harsh and cold, and you expected him to react in pain for a moment, but Steve only let out a bitter laugh.
"I guess we just kept kidding our selves into thinking that everything was alright. That if we made it through this horror of a summer, everything would go back to normal."
"But it never did, did it?" When you spoke now, you sounded broken, choked up slightly as the question left your lips.
"No, it never did." The two of you sat in silence then after Steve answered back, and for a small moment, you wanted to break down. You wanted to cry and scream and wish that everything could go back to normal. But you knew that was never going to happen.
Steve reached out and took your hand in both of his then, surprising you and snapping you out of your despairing thoughts. His touch was gentle, skin soft and warm against yours, and you wished with all your might that you felt the familiar sensation you normally did when he touched your skin. Except you didn't, and then you had to push back a sob.
"You know, I love you, Y/N. As much as I ever have. That's never changed. I swear to you, Y/N. I just...don't-." He cut himself off, clearing his throat and squeezing your hand gently.
"You don't love me like you want to. Like you think you should." He nodded at you as you finished his statement, and you could see he was blinking back tears as the realisation hit him, square in the chest. "To be honest, I think our love for each other faded a while ago. I didn't want to believe it at first but, we just seemed to be so far apart by then, there was no real way of fixing it." He hummed in understanding, words failing him at that point.
"Do you think we could have made it work if we tried harder?" That question, that was the question that broke you and tore down the walls that you had built up, and before you could bottle them up, mask your emotions, the tears started to fall, dropping against the faded plastic table.
"No, Steve. As much as I wanted us to work, and as much as I love you and always will, I think if we tried harder, we would have broken each other completely. And I can't do that to you, Steve. I just can't. I love you, so much, more than you could possibly imagine. But I know...everything we had between us, it ended a long time ago. And there's nothing we can do to fix it, or change it." Wiping away the tears that streamed down your face, and pulling your hand from his, you stood up from the booth and walked to his side.
You bent down, and pressed a soft and sweet kiss to the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder gently, before he quietly told you he loved you and you turned away, walking towards the door and fighting against every urge to look back. When you finally exited the diner and were back in your car, the doors shut and your hands on the steering wheel, that's when you let your emotions overwhelm you and you sobbed quietly, alone, and devastated.
Steve Harrington, sat alone too, in that dark and cold diner in the booth that the two of you used to always share, and he held his head in his hands, clenching his eyes closed tight. He didn't cry, but his shoulders shook, and he blocked everything around him out. Hands balled into fists and body slumped into the table, Steve Harrington was left a broken man, heart hurting, sadness overwhelming and exhaustion consuming him. And there was nothing either of you could do to stop it.
That night in the diner became your last night spent together. Within it, was all the memories the two of you had made together, all the ups and downs, the fear and the anger and the grief, happiness and joy rolled into one stayed trapped in that diner. Because from then on, the two of you swore and other to yourselves, that you would move on, that there would be no looking back, and you wouldn't yearn for the days that you were with Steve Harrington. It would kill you inside if you did.
