Her best subject had always been English. Things like grammar and parts of speech came much more easily than math or science. But for some reason, there was only one word in her vocabulary that adequately described him: Warm.
Because warmth was in everything about him.
It was in the coffee-soaked color of his eyes. In the way his hugs felt like putting on a big sweater straight out of the dryer. In the way he rubbed the feeling back into her frozen fingers when they got too cold.
When he smiled it was like coming home after being stuck out in a blizzard. He glowed when he laughed and it was as if she were basking in the rays of the sun. Even just the way he looked at her made her melt like chocolate left out in the summer.
He was maroons and mustards and burnt oranges. He was freshly baked brownies and beach sand and flannel sheets. He was wool socks and cinnamon and that one spring day in the middle of January.
But above all else, his love was what warmed her from the inside out, like drinking lukewarm hot chocolate. The kind that was deliciously sweet and comfortingly familiar, but never hot enough to worry about getting a burnt tongue.
...
She made it so easy for him to love her.
It was in the way the freckles on her nose and cheeks formed new constellations. It was in the way her brows creased in concentration and the ocean lived in her ever-rolling eyes. It was in the way she played video games or rode her skateboard or drove a car, like she was made to be going fast. It was in the way their hands fit together perfectly and how she always smelled like soap and honey and how she had a certain smile that was just for him.
It was in the way she would spell check the notes he passed her and the way she listened while he talked for hours about topics she did not entirely care about and the way she would get frustrated over board games. It was in the way they always had fun together, even if it was just dancing around his kitchen as they sang along to pop music, or laughing at stupid jokes they had made instead of doing homework.
It was in the way she looked at him like there was nobody else she would rather see. Like they shared some kind of exciting secret. Like they had won.
Because they had.
...
AUGUST 1985
As soon as Steve Harrington had gotten his own place, it quickly became a popular hang out spot for the members of the party.
After high school, he had signed up for classes at the local community college and began working for his dad, whose house he had moved out of as soon as possible.
Now, he was living on his own in a small townhouse apartment on Chestnut Street and would frequent visits from his favorite group of shitheads.
That day in late August, it was Lucas and Will and Dustin and Max who where lounging around on the floor of his living room, as Mike was on one of his occasional visits with El.
"Hey, Lucas," Dustin started during a lull in conversation. "Truth or dare?"
"Uh… dare, I guess," Lucas played along.
Dustin thought for a moment, light eyes flickering between his three friends. "I dare you to tickle Max."
Max's head snapped toward him, eyes wild in betrayal. "Why?"
"'Cause you look angry."
"That's just my face," she reasoned simply, already inching away from Lucas.
But he was faster. He reached out and caught her by the sides. Immediately, she was trying to squirm away, cursing him out and begging for him to stop in between gasps and giggles.
He complied after not too long and attempted to pull her in and kiss her cheek as a short apology, but she was already grabbing a pillow off of the couch behind her and hitting him over the arm with it.
"Ow!" he chuckled.
"You're an ass," she accused breathlessly.
If Lucas had known what he was about to say before he said it, he never would have. Not like this. Not in Steve Harrington's living room, and definitely not in front of their friends.
But he had not know. And so the truth slipped off of his tongue before he had registered what he was saying for the first time. "Aww, come on. You know I love you."
For just a second, complete and utter silence fell over the room, as everyone - including Lucas himself - sat in shock of his words. Dustin's jaw dropped and Will's face lit up in a smile. Max looked to Lucas with wide eyes as he averted his own.
"Don't be stupid," she had told him once before and was telling him again now, but Lucas could hear the playful smile in her voice as it tugged at the corners of her mouth.
His hand found hers, but he was still too embarrassed to glance in her direction. So instead he turned to Will. "Truth or dare?"
…
NOVEMBER 1985
Max would often turn to Lucas whenever the tensions in her household became too much for her to bear. She just needed someone who would listen, and Lucas was perfect for the job.
He was more than willing to sit back in silence and just let her talk about whatever was going on inside of her head. She would go on and on, letting go of whatever it was that was weighing her down. Sometimes that meant frustrated rants and balled fists and long strings of incoherent curses.
Other times it meant fragments of ideas that spilled from her mouth as soon as they entered her mind, accompanied by long pauses and trailing off frequently and starting one story before finishing the last.
Often it meant biting back the urge to cry.
"Jesus," she muttered, leaning back against his headboard and wiping the tears from her eyes before they had the chance to roll down her cheeks. "I don't know why it even matters that much. I guess… I dunno. I guess I just sometimes feel like no one really loves me, ya know? Like not even my own family, even though they're supposed to be unconditional and all that bullshit."
Lucas shook his head slightly even though Max was too preoccupied with picking at a loose string on the seam of her jeans to see it. "There are plenty of people who love you, Max."
She sniffled before giving a half hearted scoff that let Lucas know her question before she even asked it. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Like who?"
"Like me," he told her just as softly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Because it was. But for some reason she had not been expecting it.
She turned to him then, searching his face for something, but was met with only sincerity.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. So she leaned over and rested her body against his instead.
Lucas could not help but be reminded of how nicely they fit together, and he knew then that all of her troubles would one day work out just fine. He would make sure of it.
He wanted to make her safe in her own home. He wanted to take the weight of the world off of her shoulders. He wanted to make her feel as loved as she was, though the direct topic would not come up again in conversation for another four months.
…
MARCH 1986
She had not meant to fall in love with him. Or with anyone at all. Probably ever. Max had spent so long thinking she did not deserve someone like Lucas. Billy had made sure of it.
And maybe that's why she was so afraid to tell him. Because it was too good to be true. Because relationships that start in middle school never last. Because she had watched own mother try and piece together a broken heart.
But one day as she and Lucas were doing homework on the floor of his bedroom, she felt as if something in the air had shifted. It was the moment she realized that JJ had been right.
"There's someone for everyone," he had told her once. Back when she lived in California. Back before she knew Lucas. Before she knew someone as perfect for her as him could even exist in this world.
The feeling of it all hit her suddenly when she was in the middle of bullshitting her way through a history essay. The song on the radio changed, and as the intro rang through the room, her heart felt the weight of it's meaning before her brain could place it with a title.
The Smiths. How Soon Is Now?
She looked over to Lucas to see if he had noticed. Negative. Instead, his spine curved and his shoulders hunched over the textbook in his lap while his eyes narrowed in concentration. Sunshine came in through the slats in the blinds, spotlighting his frame in stripes of warm glow as his lips silently formed the words on the page before him.
A crease formed in his brow as he shook his head slightly, flipping back to re-read words he had already gone through. Trying to make sense of what it all could possibly mean. As he did so, he began tapping the eraser of his pencil rhythmically on the edge of the hardcover.
The moment of sudden understanding washed over his face like a small victory and he immediately shifted his torso to jot something down in the notebook beside him.
There was nothing special about the moment, except for the fact that there was everything special about Lucas. But for whatever reason, Max's mind had chosen exactly then to realize that this was it for her.
Maybe they were as young and naive as people say, but she loved him. Maybe relationships that start in middle school truly never last, but that was for them to decide. Maybe it was all too good to be true, but he was her someone.
"Hey, I love you," she announced for the first time.
He looked up from his page immediately, slowly straightening his back and shoulders while studying her face. As her words sank in, a slow smirk grew over his lips and his inky eyes gleamed. After seconds or minutes he finally spoke. "I know."
Max felt her face instantly frown in annoyance. "Don't be stupid," she told him as she reached out to kick him gently in the ribs.
His grin only widened along with his smugness for himself.
"Don't make me take it back, either," she not-so-threateningly mumbled, turning her attention back to the European Renaissance.
She heard Lucas' textbook collide with a soft thud on the floor just before she felt his index finger hook under her chin, tilting her face up toward his.
The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. Just briefly, but so soft and sweet she could sigh.
Upon pulling away, he tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear, resting his forehead against hers and and whispering, "You know I love you, Max."
Her insides radiated his reds and yellows and oranges. His sun and cinnamon and warmth.
And she could not help but smile at him as if they had won. Because, in a way that was all their own, they had.
…
DECEMBER 1999
"Woah!" Lucas exclaimed when he caught sight of what was on the store's shelves.
He was supposed to be helping Max shop for a gift for the Henderson's baby shower, but the quick errand shortly became more of a chore. "God, babies are so boring," Max had groaned after staring at an array of brightly colored foam blocks for ten minutes.
It was not too long after that they had found themselves in the boy's section of the toy store, and as Max took interest in a wall of Hot Wheels, Lucas had found himself stumbling across the Star Wars gear.
He reached for the lightsaber as soon as he noticed it. He had seen the collapsible three-foot long tubes of red and green and blue plastic before. Hell, he had even owned a few back in the day. But this one was different. This one was double bladed. Darth Maul style.
The part of Lucas that was still ten years old desperately needed to show it off to Mike and Dustin and Will.
"Hey, Max," he called. "Can I get this?"
She turned to see exactly what 'this' was, and cocked an eyebrow at the toy in his hands. She answered with giggle. "For you or the babies?"
Now that she mentioned it, getting the unborn twins lightsabers did not seem like too bad of an idea, and Lucas was positive Dustin would get a kick out of it. But the one with the double blades was for himself, and that answer was written all over his face.
"You're an adult," Max shrugged with one shoulder. "And I'm not your mom, so if you want it, then get it."
His face spread easily into a smile. "You know I'm in love with you, right?"
As if he had not told her a million times before.
She shook her head at him as she turned back to the tiny toy cars, a grin forming over her own face. "Don't be stupid, stalker."
A/N: I love writing for the late 90's because I was actually alive and can remember some of it. My best friend as a kid had one of those double ended lightsabers, and let me tell you that the way he flung that thing around was a serious hazard to anyone who stood too close.
Anyways, I hope this chapter was drenched in enough Lumax to make up for the lack thereof in the last. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you think!
I owe a huge thank you to phiellydinyia and iAmCC. I've been having quite the shitty week, but your reviews on the last chapter made me smile. You're both so lovely and I hope you never change!
DISCLAIMER: I am no way affiliated with Star Wars, Hot Wheels, or the Renaissance. As usual, have no rights to the song "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths.