When Lilith finds a crap-load of crumpled up papers thrown across Steve's bedroom floor she can't help but snoop. Steve isn't the kind of person to just leave garbage all over his room, so she's stuck wondering why he would dump these everywhere and just forget about them.
The first one she opens is a single sentence scratched out so many times that she can't read a single word of it. The next one is a full paragraph, also scratched out beyond comprehension. She decides the third will be the last one she tries to read before she tosses them all in the trash because she doesn't want to be too nosy.
It's a full page with only a few sections crossed out in red ink.
She squints, trying to see the writing better through the scratches and-
Oh.
It's an essay.
A college application essay.
Steve's application essay.
Lilith sighs and balls it back up. She already knew Steve had been planning on going to college, because of course he would. He gets mostly B's in school and he's a great athlete, so he sure as shit has a bright future ahead of him with all that plus his father's influence.
But none of that mean she likes the idea of him leaving.
And where is Lilith's future headed? Probably nowhere. Maybe everywhere, but not in a good way. Most likely running away and lying and staying the Hell away from people.
She gathers the dozen or so crumpled balls of paper and tosses them in the trash can, pretending she never saw them in the first place. But she doesn't forget about them. No, she just pushes the topic to the back of her mind until she feels like it's a good time to ask about it.
Which is later that day, or rather night, when there's nowhere either of them can run to because everything in town is closed until nine AM.
"So... college?"
Steve looks at her like he's trying to gauge her expression before he answers.
She gets a shrug in response.
"Where do you wanna go?"
"Dunno. Not sure I'm even guna apply."
He's being dismissive, she thinks. "Do you wanna go at all?"
"Do you?"
Okay, he's just being a dick now. "We aren't talking about me, Harrington."
His eyes go wide and he stares at her like she just slapped him.
Yeah, how's Last Name Basis feel, asshat?
"Why does it matter?" He asks, voice strained like he's trying not to yell.
"Why aren't you applying?"
He shrugs again, "Didn't feel right..."
"Is it... me?"
"What?"
"Is it 'cause you don't wanna leave me here?"
"Wha- No, that's not it! I just- I can't-"
She waits patiently, watching him closely. Almost too closely. She can see that it's making him squirm a bit.
"What are you guna do after graduation, then?"
"Oh my God, where is this coming from?!" He finally snaps.
"Because I'm guna bolt when I graduate!"
They lock eyes and her gut twists. He looks hurt but also concerned and maybe a little ticked off.
Mostly hurt, though.
"It was my plan from the get-go." She says quietly, looking down at her lap. "But then this happened and I decided to move it up a year."
"What do you mean?"
"I was guna leave the year I graduated, but I sped it up and told myself that when you graduate and go to college, that's when I'll go."
"Why?!"
She shrugs, "There's no reason to stay if you aren't here."
"Jesus Christ, I'm not going anywhere!"
"Why not, though?!"
"Because I can't even write the fucking essay properly!"
She pauses with her mouth open, any reply she might have had before gone now. She's just a little confused now, wondering why, exactly, Steve can't write his application essays. He's not as stupid as people think, his grades aren't the worst. In fact, they're actually above hers in most of the classes they both have.
"Why not?" She asks calmly.
"What?" He asks, cheeks now a nice shade of pink. He looks scared all of a sudden, like a deer caught in headlights. Or like he just realized he made some kind of horrible mistake.
"Why do you have trouble writing essays? Like, I know I can't get the words to come out the way I want them to. They don't sound as pretty on paper as they do in my head. But what about you?"
He bites his bottom lip and chews it for a second, crossing his arms as he turns to stare at the wall on his left.
"Steve..." She sighs.
When he gets like this it can take upwards of two hours to un-embarrass him enough to talk shit out, just like her.
Thank God they have fairly different definitions of embarrassing, or they would never be able to get anywhere in uncomfortable conversation with each other.
"I-" He starts but then stops to inhale sharply and let it out slowly through his nose, probably gathering up some courage to say what he wants. "I... have a hard time with the words. Kinda like you, but more along the lines of... the letters jumping around on me."
She squints, head tilting to the side slightly. "Huh?"
"When I'm reading or writing, the words get all jumbled. Like someone put them in a container and shook 'em up, then dumped 'em back out on the paper." He sighs. "Plus I can't get my thoughts to stay in the right order so everything gets all messy and hard to follow..."
"Oh, I get it now."
His shoulders slump slightly with that. Lilith watches him chew on his lip some more. He still won't meet her eyes, but at least he's facing her.
"What if..." She reaches out to grab one of his hands in both of hers. "What if, since you can think the words better than you can write them, you tell me what you wanna say and I write it down?"
"That sounds like a great plan, Lil, really. But I'm kinda over the idea of college now."
"Won't your parents be pissed?"
"Probably." He replies with a little shrug. "They'll just have to suck it up.
"What're you guna do, then?"
"You think it'd be weird for me to work for Hop?" He asks, giving her a shy smile. "Seeing as he's your dad now and all."
"Maaaaybe."
She gives him a smirk as she pulls him towards her by the hand she's been holding, causing him to stumble forwards until he's standing with his knees against hers. She lets go of him so she can use both hands to tug the front of his shirt until he leans forward, and that's when she catches him for a deep kiss.
When she lets him straighten up again he's blushing red instead of pink and it makes her giggle.
"I'm mostly stuck on the mental image of you in the uniform."
"Good or bad image?"
"Sooo good." She tells him with a dopey grin.
He mirrors the look.
"Oh, and Baby? When you get the job promise me you'll steal a pair of cuffs."
He laughs, then. Full and real. It makes her grin knowing that she did that, that she can do that so easily whenever she needs to, or just when she feels like it.
"But what are you guna do?"
She shrugs.
"Lil..."
"I'll figure it out eventually. All I know is for sure is that you're stuck with me, so if you've gotta leave Hawkins for cop training or whatever, I'm going with you."
"Is that supposed to be a threat?"
"Why?"
"'Cause a threat shouldn't sound like such a frickin' awesome idea."
He doesn't see it the first day it's there, but he notices it eventually.
Lilith has one of her wrists all bandaged up and taped together. It doesn't look like a serious injury with how not careful she is with it, but he's still concerned. So he asks what happened. She just smiles at him, wide and toothy and so so excited.
"I know what I'm guna do."
"Like... like as a career?"
She nods once, still smiling wide. "Yep."
She starts unwrapping the bandage carefully. That's when he realizes that it's her tattooed wrist that's been covered for the last few days. It'd taken the place of that old leather cuff she loves so much so he hadn't really registered that the gauze had been there, because Lilith always covers that wrist with something. When the white fabric falls away finally he expects to see blood or stitches along with that stupid fucking 007 that's usually there...
Instead he sees a butterfly.
It's made of heavy black lines that wrap around yellow/orange/red gradient wings and a long black oval for a body. The 007 and faint scars from years of struggling against restraints are nowhere to be seen. Steve assumes that's what the new tattoo was bought for.
It's simple.
And really pretty.
"I'm guna be a tattoo artist."
"That-" He takes another couple seconds to let that sink in as he pulls her wrist forward so he can have a better look at her new ink, then looks up and grins. "That's a wicked idea, Lil."
"Thanks."
"Do I get half price?"
"Only if you promise to steal cuffs from work like we talked about."
"Oh that's definitely happening, don't you worry."
It's left alone for the rest of the day. Wrapped up and covered by her sleeve to avoid attention from teachers. But at around midnight when neither of them are asleep and they're laying there just staring at the ceiling together without a word, while Lilith draws meaningless pictures on his chest with her fingertip and Steve runs his fingers through a loose section of her braided hair, Steve finally asks a question that's been on his mind for a few hours now.
"Why orange?"
"Hmm?"
"The butterfly. It's orange. I mean, I know there's a little red and yellow too, but why orange?"
"My hair, I guess?" She shrugs. "At first it was guna be a monarch. Those are mostly orange. But then I thought a really simple design would be better."
"Oh."
"And the red's in there 'cause you said it suits me."
"God, you're such a sap." He tells her with a snort, but she can tell it's just to cover up how highly embarrassed he is by the revelation.
Lilith focuses, tuning into Steve's radio station for a quick peek. His internal monologue is just a stream of happy thoughts about his one time compliment from months ago having something to do with such a permanent mark on her skin. Even if it's only in the tips of the wings, barely visible unless you get close enough.
"I'm glad you're happy, dork."
"Ugh! Get out of my head!"
She sticks her tongue out at him.
Sorry I've been gone so long.
Had some shit to do and other fic ideas to start working on.
Also, it's my birthday today, so I've been doing absolutely nothing productive as a sort of celebration.
("I'm 20, woooo! Imma sit on my fat ass and do nothing all day!")
Like, I just finished watching all available episodes of Z Nation (a favourite of mine). And fUCK, I am sooooo deep into the Detroit: Become Human fandom now that it's kinda consumed my life. Not to mention motherfucking Hannibal...
Jesus, the Hannigram stuff on tumblr... I swear I'd sell my soul for that shit to be cannon in the season $ we'll probably never get.
So, long story short, I've been overloaded with AU and drabble ideas.
Plus writers block for this fandom in particular.
I think I'll be taking an indefinite hiatus after I post this.
Sorry again. Bye for now.