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sun-kissed sunrise | part VI of late night feelings | s. h. x f!reader

index | part v

summary: realising that you’re falling in love with steve harrington might be the worst thing that could happen to you… or maybe the best one.

steve harrington x fem!reader modern au | no use of y/n | no smut | no mentions of specific race, hair type or body type.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: none. actually there's so much fluff and domesticity in this one, but you know reader at this point of the story so of course there is some angst. no smut. however pls remember other content in my blog is +18.

masterlist | ko-fi

[dividers by @cafekitsune & @animatedglittergraphics-n-more]

Awake?

[typing…]

Yeah

For you, always

[message deleted]

Oh, I saw that.

😉

[typing…]

Everything okay, babe?

Yeah

[typing…]

I just wanted to talk about today, if that’s okay.

[typing…]

Can I call you?

Steve took a deep breath, looking at screen of his phone and the absence of the three dots under your name on the chat. You were waiting for his response, probably. He thought, no— he was almost sure you’d take it all back.

You had such a nice, lovely Sunday together, it had probably been the worse time to mention it. Once again, he found himself torn between not knowing if he had fucked up or not. You had never kept him from being himself, so the fair thing was that he let you do the same thing.

Except things were different now that he knew he was pathetically, irreversibly, falling in love with you.

He thought you had put that aside last night, but you were still hard to read. Even after melting so sincerely in his arms. Even after everything you had confessed to him that morning. You still slipped through his fingers.

He was about to type an answer when something sudden happened, his phone buzzed again.

Sorry, I just need to make another call first.

Give me a few minutes.

He stayed in his bed, thinking about everything that had happened this morning, wondering if he had read the signs wrong.

But it couldn’t be, because he was almost, almost sure that you were finally on the same page. That you were about to start building something together.

The morning after you realised you were falling in love with Steve Harrington was cold and cloudy. The subtle light that sneaked through the translucent curtains of your room made you pull your bedsheets over your head to hide from it. You growled, unconsciously, only realising because of the low laugh that brushed against your cheek when the annoyed sound left your mouth. You felt the bedsheet moving even higher, the tingling, scratching feeling of Steve’s stubble against your skin when he kissed your neck, and you snuggled closer against him.

‘Go back to sleep, baby.’ You said, almost as a complain, moving your body closer to him.

You still hadn’t opened your eyes, but you didn’t need to. Your fingers found the hairy skin of his chest easily, your legs wrapped around his, your forehead found its hiding place on his neck. Steve hadn’t opened his either, his fingertips found the soft skin of your back. He was still not over you calling him baby, the way your voice turned raspy in the morning. He squeezed you against him, an unexpected movement that made you almost jump in his arms, your morning laugh mixing with his, limbs stretching without stopping touching each other.

He could get used to this.

A scratch on the door made him open his eyes then.

That little world under the bedsheets was still illuminated by the morning light, your body melted against his, lashes kissing each other and a calm semblance in your face that made you look so much younger. Even in the unconscious, distant world of your half-sleep state, you could still feel the way his fingers brushed against the skin of your hip, the soft kiss on your hairline, the way he sighed every now and then when he started dozing off again.

Until Steve was once again woken up by a subtle, high-pitched cry behind the door. You felt him move under your body, not able to stop yourself from pulling him back into you.

‘Don’t.’ You whispered, still half-asleep. ‘I’m trying to get her to stop doing that.’

He laughed softly. ‘I can’t just leave her outside.’

‘Steve.’ You complained when he kissed your head and untangled from your grip.

‘Go back to sleep, baby.’ You heard him say, echoing your words, as he left the bed.

But you couldn’t. You finally opened your eyes under the bedsheets, taking a pleasant and long breath as you heard the door open, Olivia’s little paws against the wooden floor of your room, and Steve’s irresistible voice saying good morning, pretty girl.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the door close again. A few seconds later, Steve lifted the bedsheets, this time his sweet brown eyes, a bit puffy from all the sleeping, lifted at you when he came back to his place next to you with Olivia in his arm.

‘Look who’s here.’ He said to her, smiling at the way her little tail was shaking as she walked towards you under the bedsheets.

‘Good morning to you too, spoiled girl.’ You said in between soft laughs as she licked your ear.

Steve laid down comfortably as you cuddled Olivia against your body, whispering sweet nonsense to her as you did every morning, kissing her little head and squeezing her against you.

She moved to the side then, laying in between you two as you rested your face on your hand and looked up at him while scratching her belly.

‘Did you sleep well?’ You asked him, he could feel the way your bare cold feet looked for warmth in his as your toes softly stroked his ankle. Something about it melted him on the inside, it was the way you now seemed to look for his touch so easily and openly. How you didn’t even seem to notice as he looked up at you.

‘Course I did.’ He said with a soft smile.

You didn’t refuse his proximity when his hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in, Olivia moved as well, fitting in the little space between you. And she seemed to love it, the warmth in between both of your bodies, how Steve’s arm covered her belly while his hand still rested on your waist as you scratched her chest.

He couldn’t help but laugh as you both looked down at her. It was all very warmth, it was very precious too, and you were aware of it while the bedsheet covered your three and the birds mumbled nonsense beyond your window. But you couldn’t conceive the fact that there was a world out there when this one existed.

You thought about what you had said to him yesterday as he closed his eyes again, too relaxed not to, your bedsheets always had that soothing smell of lavender that reminded him of his childhood home. When you mentioned that you friends were your chosen family, your only family now that your grandma was living in the nursing home, you didn’t think this could also turn into something like that. Thinking about the way he could turn your backyard into a garden, of his steps over the creaking wooden steps of the staircase you used to run down on Christmas morning.

When he opened his eyes again you were already looking at him, the way you studied his face made him shy, smiling subtly at you before speaking.

‘What do you want for breakfast?’

Your hand found his over your hip, playing with his fingers as you shrugged.

‘Anything.’

His smiled grew bigger as he took your hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on it.

‘Anything?’ It was soft, so soft. Something about it made you think he only used that voice with you.

‘Yup.’ You nodded like a little girl. ‘I really want a coffee, though.’

He hummed to himself, kissing your hand again as you stretched for longer now, preparing yourself to leave the bed as Olivia rolled to sit up. She looked at you both then, waiting to see what you were doing next while one of her ears fell back and the other one stayed up. And there, under the bedsheets, you couldn’t help but laugh together.

It was the nicest Sunday you’d had in a while. You were still a bit affected by the call you had with your family the day before, he noticed, and you didn’t pretend not to know, absently drinking your coffee on the other side of the table as the clouds outside disappeared and the sun finally started to leave its hiding place, sneaking through your windows. He didn’t say much during breakfast, but you could tell he was observing you closely, and though he was still worried, he was relieved you didn’t hide from him anymore.

You didn’t know when it happened. Probably while you stood up to put the dishes in the sink, and he opened the back door so the fresh air would fill the house. The warm water from the tap running through your hands while you heard him pour more coffee in your cups. But suddenly there was music coming from the forgotten speakers in your living room, a compilation of soft, acoustic sounds that fit the day’s mood perfectly.

Outside, you and Steve sat down on the swinging chair in your garden. You drank more coffee, shared a bowl of strawberries, and eventually your head was resting on his lap as he stroked your forehead with tender touches, recalling Nancy’s wedding decisions from the day before and the lunch you shared with Robin.

Olivia rolled herself on the grass, followed butterflies and laid down on the sun. You were silent, observing her, when Steve spoke again.

‘How old is she?’

‘About five months?’ You rolled to your side to look at her playing on the grass, entwining the hand of his that lay on your hip. ‘She’s a November baby.’

‘Christmas present?’ He asked absently as he straightened his legs, making the chair swing briefly.

‘Something like that, yeah.’ His eyes lingered on the way you blinked softly at his strokes, that were turning slower the more you relaxed. But the smile that was forming on his lips fell quickly when you spoke again. ‘I got her last December, around Robin’s birthday.’

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at your words, that absence in your eyes he had learned meant you were lost in your thoughts took over your pupils as you sat up. The movement made your hair fall on your sides, engulfing him in your perfume as he frowned, still looking at you. His fingers were still tangled with yours, your beautiful knees he had kissed so many times in the middle of your sleepless nights crossed underneath them.

‘My mom got very sick last year.’ You said.

He thought you’d tell him this story with sad shy eyes, but when you looked back at him unexpectedly, there was nothing but sincere trust in them. You lifted your free hand to stroke the hairs on top of his ear, as if taking care of him was the source of your calm. He thought he’d never get used to your soft-hearted touch. And he hoped he never did.

‘She had been for a while. She always suffered from migraines, but these were different. I mean, after everything that happened with grandma we grew further apart, so Aston took care of it. I still feel a little guilty for it.’

Your hand fell from his hair to his neck then, stroking the freckles you had licked every time his body was underneath yours while the rain fell against his window. Now you felt you had the freedom to follow them with your fingers as you spoke.

‘Jamie really supported me through that.’ You admitted as you recalled how hard that winter was. ‘Specially when I found out it was worse than what I thought. They called me the morning of Robin’s birthday telling me she was in a delicate state. I… I didn’t even know Aston was in town.’

His hand found your wrist then. He looked at you with selfless concern in his pretty brown pupils, as your dry eyes looked back at him, wondering if it was dangerous, even a bit self-harming, the way your stories always seemed to turn him so blue, so sad. Here, in the middle of a sunny spring day.

‘So, I went to see her, you know, waiting for the worst.’ Your eyes fell on his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard, knowing the outcome but still fearing the story. You smiled bitterly at the memories. ‘Dad came too, from Indianapolis. I think he— I think he guessed we needed him. She was in a comma for two days. We ate lots of McDonald’s, but we didn’t talk much. It was weird. We spent Christmas morning together. We’d never done that.’

His hands cupped your face unexpectedly, you didn’t shrunk when his skin managed to burn yours as his thumbs brushed the apples of your cheeks, but you were learning now, that even if it overwhelmed you, it did so in the warmest of ways.

‘You should’ve told us.’ He said softly. ‘We could’ve been there for you.’

You smiled at him with tenderness. He looked back at you with hurt in his eyes, and all you could offer him was the calm that the storm had passed. You didn’t know back then; how sweet he was. This warmth, this disposition. It was a different life.

‘I told Robin.’ You said, trying to play nonchalantly but knowing that there was some truth in what he said. ‘She was dead worried, but I told her. It wasn’t easy, I think that made me realise how much I held back from just… feeling. It was probably necessary.’

He smiled softly at the way you leaned against his hand as your eyes fell on Olivia, sleeping under the sun.

‘So, after Christmas, Dad went back to his girlfriend, Aston stayed a bit longer to take care of mom, and I kind of removed myself from the situation.’ You looked back at him, shrugging briefly, ‘I don’t think I was needed. Or, well, I didn’t want to be needed. So, I came back home from the hospital and Jamie was packing for a business trip.’

‘What?’ He said under his breath. ‘He left you…?’

‘Steve.’ You shut your eyes as you sighed before looking back at him. ‘Jamie and I were different. He needed to go.’

‘Yeah, but he should’ve stayed. I can’t believe he—’

‘I wanted to be alone.’ You interrupted him, holding his hand against your cheek as you looked back at him, trying to put into words the complexities of your nostalgic, bitter self. ‘That’s what I do. I wanted to hang out with my friends during the day, and be home alone at night, and visit grandma, and miss my childhood in peace.’

You hoped that what you saw in his eyes wasn’t disappointment. Maybe he couldn’t understand, you thought as you saw the way his eyes avoided yours while he put a strand of hair behind your ear, but you didn’t open up to him to be understood, you opened up to be seen.

‘I didn’t want him here. But I still felt alone.’ You admitted. ‘I wanted something mine, you know? I only left Hawkins to go to college and moved right back after to be close to my grandma. The house is mine, technically, but it’ll always be my grandparents’ in some way. So, I said fuck it, I’ve always wanted a dog. And that’s how I got Olivia.’

He lowered his eyes, a smile of disbelief on his face as he shook his head slightly. A mix between a laugh and a scoff left his smile before his hands squeezed your face with fondness and you couldn’t help but shut your eyes hard as a sweet smile lighted up your face.

He showered your nose with kisses, following a trace down your jaw until his forehead came to rest on your shoulder and you swayed together in the chair as you stroked the hairs behind his neck with your fingers.

‘I wish I would’ve known.’ He admitted softly before kissing your shoulder.

‘Don’t worry.’ You said in the same tone, stroking his neck with your fingers with the same awareness you did last night, trying to memorise the texture of his skin, savouring its moles with your fingertips for when he inevitably left at the end of the day and you’d go back to your empty bed.

He sat up then, studying you as his fingers drew a line from your cheeks to your neck, brushing your shoulders, your elbows. All you could do was look at him looking at you, as if you were about to disappear, before he licked his lips to speak again.

‘Of course, I worry.’ He said, those brown eyes finding yours so easily then. ‘All that time I just looked at you from afar, when I could’ve just been your friend.’

You smiled at him, thinking about those sweet useless what ifs that now troubled your mind as much as they troubled his. What if you had met earlier. What if your grandma had let you go to the same school as Robin. What if Jamie had never asked for your number, and Nancy had chosen Jonathan as she always wanted to since the beginning. What if his parents had chosen this neighbourhood instead of the big, lonely house where he grew up in. Childhood best friends, wouldn’t that have been so sweet? Wouldn’t that have fixed everything, and saved you both all the grief and longing?

‘I would’ve probably just ignored you.’ You said shrugging. He observed you as you lifted your hand to play with the collar of his shirt before you started pulling him in. Your voice turning into a sweet, irresistible whisper the closer you got to him. ‘I don’t think I would’ve let you be my friend.’

His nose brushed yours, lips ready for yours when his confident palm started stroking the skin over your ribs.

‘I would’ve insisted.’ He argued, softly, playfully; as you smiled, while his own brushed your mouth and the distance became more and more intolerable every passing second. ‘Really. Until you would’ve gotten sick of me.’

You laughed softly, a sound he’d give everything to hear forever. He loved it, really. These moments of pure calm where you could just be yourself. He hoped to be a place where you could always be yourself. You hadn’t still given him the kiss he was searching for, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him with a sudden seriousness in your gaze.

‘You know, I always wanted you in my life.’ You admitted, lowering your bold stare down when the shyness and the fear took over you. ‘In any way. I wanted you.’

‘You’ve always had me.’ He said as his mouth pecked yours in brief, asphyxiating, repetitive pecks.

Pecks that slowly turned into mouth-to-mouth need, into skin-to-skin confessions. Steve took you back to your bed where time was not a concern, while the garden door stayed open and the day turned brighter and any other sound from the world outside was eclipsed by your needy breaths, and your nervous whimpers, and his sighs. Then you invited him to your shower, where you let him touch you with his open palms and shameless fingertips, still careful but more entitled to this. To you.

He discovered that those indescribable clean perfumed notes he had tried to evoke in his bed since the first night with you, came from an oat soap bar. You scrubbed his back with it, deliberately observing all those freckles he may not even know he had. When you both stepped out of the shower, it filled him with a strange warmth, almost homely, to think that now he’d smell like you.

‘Hey.’ He said as you threw your towel on a chair, and walked towards him wearing an oversized shirt. He was laying on your bed with his phone in his hand, still shirtless while tiny drops of water lingered on the tips of his hair. ‘Come here.’

You did as he said, feeling suddenly tired of all the laziness of the day. The sun outside was starting to set, the birds sang as calmly as this morning. His arm wrapped instinctively around your waist; it wasn’t until then than you realised, he was offering you his phone.

‘I’ve been thinking that we could spend a night in the city one day. Just you and me.’

It took you by surprise, the heat rushing to your cheeks when you had a look at the tab open on his phone. A luxurious but nice hotel not too far from Hawkins showing on the screen.

You had no idea how carefully he had chosen those words. How much he had been thinking about testing these waters for the last few hours, trying to find a place quiet and private enough so you wouldn’t have to worry about the futilities of being out in the town, where anyone could start asking questions. You were still looking at the screen when it suddenly turned black, the sound of the phone locking and your eyes following the way his hand threw the device on the bed.

‘Whenever you want to.’ He said putting a few strands of wet hair behind your ear. His eyes were calm and patient as you felt your cheeks grew even hotter. ‘And only if you want to.’

‘I-I want to.’ You said nodding, trying to push aside the embarrassment of sounding like a nervous teenager as he pinched your chin. ‘I’d like to.’

‘Yeah?’ He asked sweetly. ‘It could be whenever, you know. You can think about it for a few days if you’re not sure.’

You shook your head then, sitting better on the space next to him.

‘I want to.’ You said more confidently now, almost excited, feeling your heart beating hard against your chest. ‘I just need to sort out a babysitter for Olivia.’

‘Uh-uh.’ He said squeezing your pretty knee he adored so much. ‘This place’s pet friendly. You’re not leaving her here.’

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, moving closer to him. You wanted him to squeeze your knee again, you wanted him to undress you again and bring him back to the bathroom and shower together an insane number of times in the same night.

‘Steve.’

‘I don’t want her to stay here, baby.’ His hand sneaked under your shirt playing with the upper hem of your underwear as his head came to rest on your shoulder, and his mouth kissed your neck. ‘C’mon. I want a little trip with both of you.’

‘She’s never left Hawkins.’ You said closing your eyes, feeling that this silly argument didn’t make any sense. Of course it didn’t make any sense. You melted at the way he loved Olivia so much. You melted at the way he wanted to stay here, in your life, without misplacing not even one little thing in it.

‘Well, that’s even better.’ He whispered as he filled your neck with kisses, and you felt your breath stop at the next few words he said so sweetly. ‘Our baby’s first trip. ‘M sure she’ll love it.’

‘Okay.’ You whispered against his mouth when he finally sat up to cup your face with his hands and kiss you like you wanted. As if for now on, this just wasn’t just yours or his.

‘Okay?’

You could get used to it.

‘Yeah.’

A few hours later you were hyperventilating, panicking in your living room with a humming cup of tea between your hands. You had spent a perfect Sunday with Steve and things were going exactly the way they were supposed to. So why did you feel like you couldn’t receive this? Why did it feel like things were going to end terribly?

You thought about driving to the nursing home, visit your grandma again and get some of the affection and comfort you now were so aware you needed. Maybe this is why you had always been so closed up, because you needed so much more than what life had given you. You couldn’t even tell Robin or Nancy. Maybe that was a sign that you were not ready for this, any of this.

Steve Harrington was becoming a problem.

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. Maybe that wasn’t the right wording for it, wanting him this much was the real issue. Finding ways to allow yourself to feel what you had never felt before was the real issue. This heart of yours and its damaged mechanisms were the real issue.

After deciding that you were too anxious to drive you decided to put the tea aside and go for a walk with Olivia. You could feel the tears in the back of your throat, the stinging sensation of helplessness in your chest as you took your keys and Olivia’s leash, only the noise of her excited paws against the floor lighting up your mood a little bit.

Outside it wasn’t as cold as you thought it would be. It was late, but you really didn’t want to stay home and feel sorry for yourself in ways that could trigger your anxiety. So, you just focused on the feeling of the night breeze on your cheeks, in the way the dew was starting to adorn the grass, the silence of it all. You had forgotten your headphones, maybe that had actually been a good thing.

After twenty minutes you felt your breathing pattern turn slower. The anxiety in your chest had turned into a knot on your throat, but at least the panicking emotions that struck you before were gone.

You decided to text him. He’d understand you weren’t ready for this. This time you’d communicate, even more so, you’d give him the choice to end it all if he wanted to. You were putting too many obstacles in his way, you were becoming too unpredictable, it wasn’t fair. But he could stay too, if he wanted.

You wanted him to.

With every bit of your complicated self, you wanted him to.

You walked towards an empty bench, sitting down as you smiled sadly at his flirty texts, until you got the nerve to ask what you really wanted to ask.

Can I call you?

He didn’t reply, and you wondered what he was thinking, if he could suspect where things were going, if he felt that you were breaking his heart.

Until a different name appeared on your screen.

Sorry, I just need to make another call first.

[typing…]

Give me a few minutes.

You took a deep breath before taking the phone to your ear.

‘Jamie?’

‘Hey.’ You heard the familiar voice of your ex-boyfriend on the other side. He seemed cheerful, somehow relieved. A bit nervous maybe. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t message first, I just had a quick question.’

‘Yeah, uh…’ You had been a mess of emotions for the last few hours, so exhausted you didn’t even know how you felt about his call. ‘Don’t do it again, please. Always message me first.’

‘Right.’ He made a short pause as you shut your eyes again, looking down at Olivia from your place on the bench. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

You shook your head a couple of times, wondering why, of all the moments he could’ve called, he decided to call now. But his voice had also brought something with him, a sense of familiarity that you had pushed away the day you realised that you deserved more than what he had given you.

‘How are you?’, you asked then.

And you had been right to walk away from that starved love.

‘I’m— I’m good.’ You heard him laugh, and that somehow made you smile. ‘How are you, huh? How’s Livvy?’

‘She’s good.’ You said. ‘We’re both good.’

‘I didn’t mean to annoy you.’ He said then, some clacking in the distance made you frown your eyebrows. ‘Sorry, I’m cooking. I won’t take too much of your time.’

‘Cooking?’ You laughed out loud.

‘Yeah…’ He laughed awkwardly. ‘S just this thing I started learning recently.’

‘Mmm.’ You simply said, fighting the nosy need to ask if cooking had turned into his after-breakup hobby.

‘Anyways, I hope this doesn’t sound rude at all. I just wanted to ask if I left my tennis rackets at your place. I’ve got plans to go play this weekend and I can’t find them anywhere here.’

‘I can have a look.’ You said shrugging. ‘Though I’m sure I put everything inside the box I gave you.’

‘Except my Bee Gees vinyl.’

‘Don’t you fucking start now, James.’ You said with a laugh. ‘You took all my black nail polish so we’re even.’

‘Okay, that’s fair, but you don’t even paint your nails.’

‘Now I do, actually. Because my polish doesn’t get stolen.’

‘Well, that’s great news, then. I learned how to cook, you paint your nails. Talk about character development.’

‘Jesus.’ You complained, but deep down it felt good to be able to have a civil conversation that didn’t involve grudges with him. Things had been this simple once. ‘Yeah, there’s been a lot of that on my side lately.’

‘What have you been up to?’

‘Not much.’ You lied, thinking about the perfect day you had just a few hours ago. ‘Helping Nancy with the wedding, trying to train Olivia but everyone makes it so difficult, spoiling her all the time.’

You couldn’t help but smile sadly as you remembered Steve’s careful attentions to her, his willingness to love her, the way he so sweetly was starting to think of your dog as his.

‘I went to see grandma last week.’

‘How’s she?’

‘She’s… you know, getting worse, I guess. But she’s being taken care of. And I’m trying to commit to go visit her more often. But you know, I’m not great at… that.’

He laughed, following the friendly tone of the conversation before speaking.

‘Commitment?’

It shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did. It was Jamie, for fuck’s sake, what did it matter? But God, it did matter.

You swallowed hard, feeling the tears on the back of your nose.

‘Y-Yeah.’ You said, taking a sobby breath.

‘Oh, shit.’ He said as soon as you started crying. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention, are you— Fuck. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘Jamie.’ You said looking up at the streetlights that surrounded you through your tears, feeling so small out of sudden. ‘I’m going to say something, and it’s not going to be nice, and I’m sorry. And if you don’t want anything to do with this, you can hang up as soon as I say it, and we’ll pretend this never happened, okay?’

You could only hear his expectant breath from the other side of the line until he spoke.

‘Okay.’

‘I’m seeing someone. No, I’m— Actually, I’m dating someone.’ You admitted. ‘And think I might— God, I think I’m—’

‘In love.’

‘Y-Yeah.’

You felt more tears falling through your cheeks, trying to be quiet as the crickets sang and a few hopeful fireflies appeared in the distance, cleaning your cheeks in the cold night. He hadn’t hung up, not yet, and that was your only source of comfort as you tried to take slow breaths in attempt not to feel pathetic.

‘I’m sorry, this is wrong. I didn’t mean to throw all this shit on you like this.’

‘S alright.’

‘It’s not.’

‘Listen, you sound terrified, believe me, I’ll survive.’

The tension on the line dissipated a little bit when you laughed softly. Jamie took a few seconds to reply, seconds in which he heard you take deep breaths on the other side, certain that you were trying to regulate your emotions.

‘I know you; you know? Maybe not in the way you wanted me to, but I do. And as your ex, I think I have the right to tell you this: you need to let life happen to you.’

He stopped there, knowing you were probably in need of a patient shoulder to cry on. Knowing that in these instances, you needed a bit of time to digest everything he was about to say.

‘You know, I look back to us and it’s so obvious why we were together. I didn’t— God, okay don’t take this personal, but I didn’t see a future with you, and you weren’t worried about that. That’s why we thought it worked. But it really didn’t. You’re supposed to want things to happen to you when you’re with the right person.’

You voice was a soft whisper when you spoke again.

‘I always thought I was just weird.’

‘You’re not weird.’ He said softly, like a long-lost childhood friend you played to be adults with. ‘You just weren’t in love with me.’

You took a deep, long breath as he stayed on the other side of the line.

‘Shit.’

‘I know.’

‘Did you realise all of this in the last few weeks? Or did you… did you know? When we were still together?’

‘Kind of. I mean, I was a bit in denial at first when we broke up. Don’t get me wrong, but I really wanted to be heartbroken and then I kind of realised I wasn’t. Like at all.’

‘Wow.’

‘Except for Olivia. That did hurt.’ You laughed as you looked down at her, yawning and subtly shaking at the sudden chilling breeze that brushed your neck. ‘She’ll never forgive you for giving her daddy issues.’

‘She doesn’t have daddy issues, Jamie.’ You said standing up from the bench, lifting her in your arms so she wouldn’t have to walk the way back. ‘You were like— a nice neighbour she liked to play with. Like a distant uncle.’

‘You wound me.’ He laughed. ‘But you might be right. I don’t know. I’m thinking about getting a cat.’

‘Cats are cute.’ You said, walking back through the same path you took to get to the park.

‘Yeah, I mean now that Kyle’s moving out I don’t need to worry about his allergies anymore.’

‘Oh, he’s moving out?’ You asked distractedly, checking the path behind you every now and then. It was almost midnight, maybe Steve wasn’t even awake anymore.

‘He proposed to Frankie.’

‘No shit.’ You said as more cooking noises were heard on the other side of the line. ‘That’s great, I’m so happy for them.’

‘Yeah, everyone’s— Shit, sorry.’ He said to a beeping sound in the distance. ‘That was my alarm. Everyone’s getting married.’

‘Tell me about it. Nancy made me her bridesmaid and it’s been… quite busy recently. So prepare yourself If you’re about to be the best man.’

‘You. A bridesmaid.’

‘I know.’ You said rolling your eyes.

‘By the way, I—uh. They sent me an invitation, but I don’t know if— It doesn't feel right to go. Is it okay if I… don’t?’

‘I rather you didn’t.’ You said honestly as you saw your house from where you were, taking your keys out of your jacket. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t— it’d just be too awkward, Jamie.’

‘Yeah.’ He said after a short pause. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’

You took a deep breath as you climbed the steps to your door, unlocking it while feeling an uncomfortable heat running to your cheeks. Olivia ran to her bed as soon as you left her on the floor and your pressed your back against your door.

‘It was nice to talk.’ You admitted in the darkness of your living room. ‘I’ve been a bit of a mess lately.’

He chuckled softly.

‘Yeah.’ He swallowed hard, letting out a sigh that made you frown as you waited. ‘I hope you’re happy.’

‘Jamie.’

‘Honestly.’ You opened your mouth to say something else, but he didn’t let you. ‘You deserve good things. I just…’

You sighed as you felt your eyes fill with tears again.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’d just wish you’d see it too.’ He said then. ‘It was a bit hard; you know? To try to get you see it.’

All Jamie could hear was your breath from the other side of the line as you faced the hard truth.

‘I know I stopped trying. And we were— maybe things were already too cold between us. I don’t know. But I used to think about it a lot. About that little… that brief moment when I stopped trying and you didn’t notice.’

You tried hard to repress the sniffs, to stop the tears, to fight the helplessness. But maybe he was right, maybe you were about to repeat your patterns if it wasn’t for this call.

‘Then things changed when your mom got sick, of course. A-and I’d never use that against you. I know it wasn’t easy. But, you know, it was tough. To see that I wasn’t needed.’

You shut your eyes hard, feeling your eyelids tremble and your hands shaking as you held the sleeves of your jacket in your fist.

‘Yeah.’ You sobbed. ‘I see.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No,’ You swallowed hard. ‘No. Thank you, Jamie. I really needed this.’

You took a deep breath, turning the lights above the stairs on. You let out a silly laugh as you cleaned your tears and got rid of your shoes.

‘I’m feeling much better now.’ You said.

‘M glad. Just don’t forget what this call was for, please? I really need my rackets.’

‘Right.’ You felt the tiredness falling on your shoulders as you walked inside your room. ‘I’ll have a look tomorrow after work and I’ll text you if I find them.’

‘Cool.’

‘And thank you again.’

‘S nothing.’

‘It’s not nothing. Goodnight.’

You knew him well enough to be sure he was smiling from the other side.

‘Goodnight.’

After a long while, Steve released the breath he was holding in when his phone buzzed on his bedside table.

Sorry.

I had to pick that up. I’ll call you tomorrow when you’re awake.

Goodnight.

Incoming call.

You were just getting under your covers when your phone started buzzing.

Steve felt his heart beating hard against his chest when he heard the hint of a nasal, tired tone in your voice.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, baby.’ He said it so sweetly you could only shut your eyes hard under the bedsheets, your palm stroking the cold empty side next to you where he had been this morning. ‘What’s wrong?’

You laughed softly at his worry; an adorable series of giggles that made him relax instantly.

‘Nothing, I just— I panicked a little bit earlier.’

‘You panicked?’

He was lying in his bed, looking up at the ceiling as his heart beat fast, worrying about you, once again. He had gotten too used to the habit of correcting himself every time he opened his heart, every time he took a step, every time he tried not to fuck up.

‘About our date.’ You said softly. ‘I was just bein’ silly.’

You could hear the hesitation on the other side, and the embarrassment washed over you. You had never done this, open up about your fears in such a raw way.

‘I told you we can wait.’

‘I don’t want to wait.’ You said urgently, feeling the soft stroke of the bedsheets on your cheek as you moved to your side. This side of the bed still smelled like him. Bergamot.

You took a deep breath then, trying to imagine him here with you and not far on the other side of the town, laying on top of his teal bedsheets in his room.

‘You make me happy.’ You whispered softly. He would’ve miss it if he didn’t know you, if I didn’t hang onto every single glimpse of light you were willing to give him. A small, imperceptible thing. ‘Are you happy?’

‘Very.’ He whispered then. ‘You make me very happy, sweetheart.’

‘Good.’ You said in a soft chuckle. ‘Well, that’s all that matters to me now.’

It was only then he realised what you were doing. That this, this was you, the real you. You were drawing the windows on that house he’d seen on your notepad, so he could see what was inside.

‘So, it’s a date, then?’ He asked, and you laughed again, like a teenager. ‘Next weekend?’

‘Yeah.’ You smiled under the bedsheets. ‘Yeah, it’s a date.’

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