acciogalleons
- Reads 2,106
- Votes 105
- Parts 5
Honey twirls her straw in a half-melted strawberry milkshake, pretending she doesn't notice Steve Harrington sliding into the booth across from her like he owns the place. He doesn't. She does-at least the way everyone's eyes flick to her when she laughs or tilts her head just right.
Steve drops his elbows onto the table, grinning like he didn't just knock over the ketchup on his way in.
"You ordered without me?"
"You were five minutes late," Honey says, not bothering to look up. "I got hungry."
Steve huffs a laugh, pushing his hair back like it personally wronged him. "Five minutes is basically on time."
"Not in my world."
When she finally lifts her eyes, Steve's in the middle of stealing one of her fries. She smacks his hand lightly-more of a tap than a hit-but he reacts like she's electrocuted him.
"Hey! I was gonna eat that!"
"You were gonna steal it," she corrects, lips curving just slightly.
Steve rubs the back of his neck, smiling like he can't help it. "Same difference."
The diner hums around them-dishing clatter, milkshake blenders, soft rock on the jukebox-but it's the small, stupid things between them that feel loudest. The way their knees brush under the table. The way he watches her without meaning to. The way she pretends not to see it.
Honey lifts a fry to her lips, slow.
"You're staring again, Harrington."
Steve startles, cheeks pinking. "Am not."
"Are too."
He tries to recover with a shrug. "Yeah, well... you're hard not to look at."
Honey freezes for half a second-half.
Then she scoffs, soft and dangerous.
"Flattery doesn't work on me."
"Good thing I wasn't trying to be flattering," he says, eyes dropping to his plate.