Chapitre 21: 21. Speech
It hadn't always bothered her. In fact, until only recently, it never failed to put a smile on her face and lift her spirits just a little bit more. For a while, it was something she craved, something she would relish in and would often find herself working just a little bit harder to get it to happen again.
Hopper was really who she first heard it from. One night, after recounting what she had learned from flipping through a few of his old books (during yet another dull day that she was trapped in the cabin), she paused to take a breath and realized with a start that he was just staring at her, his fork hanging limply from his hand, his jaw paused mid-chew as he remained still. Fearing she had done something wrong, she squirmed in her seat and glanced down to avoid his gaze. "Are you mad at me?" she mumbled after a beat as she felt the shame rise up to her cheeks for really no reason at all. "No, no kid, you didn't do anything," he said with a chuckle, breaking out of whatever trance he was in. "I just haven't heard you talk that much before. It was impressive. You're learning, that's good. Really good," he told her before flashing her a smile and returning to his food.
While it wasn't exactly a direct compliment, she still felt something stir inside of her at his words, making her sit up just a little bit straighter as her emotions soared. She was hard wired to seek approval and the genuine way he said it was enough to satisfy her completely.
When she was finally allowed out in the world, the adults that became a part of her life praised her often and she got such a joy out of knowing she had pleased an authority figure. "You've been studying your vocabulary, haven't you?" Joyce would ask her one afternoon when she would make small talk with her, "You speak so fluently now," Aunt Becky would comment when they went to go visit Mama every so often and, her favorite, "That's a pretty big word for you," became a regular phrase from Flo, who was still baffled as to why Hopper randomly showed up with a daughter.
It's only recently that those comments are accompanied by a twist in her gut and it utterly confused her for a while. Compliments are something she lives for (maybe not as much as Eggos and Mike's kisses, but still), so why they had begun losing their effect is beyond her. She first noticed it when Will had told her how nice it was to hear her talking more a couple weeks back. An icky feeling spread inside her and she was surprised that she had to fight to keep her face from falling. This new reaction came seemingly from out of nowhere and she decides to just let it be for a while, not knowing what else to do. That is, until she finally figures it out and it becomes all she could think about.
She tries to forget it bothers her most of the time, because when she thinks about it, it ends up leading her down a rabbit hole of conclusions that never, ever leave her feeling confident in herself. No one knows about it yet, because she's always been good about bottling up her emotions. So she keeps it inside, even though the more she suppresses it, the more pressure is added to her chest when someone brings it up and she could feel it shaking inside of her. Whether or not it was a rational thing to be hurt by, she had no idea, which is why she has yet to bring it up with anyone, convincing herself that it was stupid and she would be reprimanded for it. But as the days drag on, it will. Not. Go. Away.
Because of it, her everyday mood has started to dwindle and, as much as she tries to stop it, slowly but surely she's shrinking back into herself. It scares her, honestly, but she's at a loss for how to deal with it. It seems defining it only made it worse, gave her something to look out for and it's taking a toll on her. However, the prospect of having dinner at the Wheeler's is more than enough to cheer her up and, sitting at their table, her leg brushing up against Mike's as she feasts on the best casserole she's probably ever had, she feels herself returning back to normal, the knot that had been created in her stomach slowly disappearing.
That is until she answers Mrs. Wheeler's question the best she can and she lets out a little gasp. "Eleanor, your English has improved!" she exclaims before promptly turning her attention somewhere else.
Dang it. El feels her face start to droop and she lowers her head, turning her gaze to her hands, as that gross feeling bubbles up in her chest, claiming back it's residence.
A light touch on the back of her hand catches her attention and she glances up to meet Mike's concerned eyes. "I'm fine," she says automatically, cursing herself for not realizing that he would notice something was up. He raises his eyebrows and holds her gaze for a beat while she prays he can't see through the fake smile she plasters on. Finally, the corners of his mouth drop slightly and he intertwines his fingers with hers, keeping his hand in hers the rest of dinner, something she appreciates immensely.
She feels slightly better by the end of the meal and has shoved her emotions back into their place by the time everyone starts cleaning up. Diligently scrubbing off her plate, she hopes she's off the hook...only to have that wish come crumbling down when she feels a familiar hand on her shoulder. He tugs her away out of earshot from his family and lowers his voice. "What's going on with you?" he asks and she just shakes her head after a moment's pause, not knowing what else to do. She can feel him studying her intently, knowing how easily he'll be able to look past her facade. "We'll be back," he suddenly calls over her shoulder and doesn't wait for a response before gently guiding her to the basement. She's reluctant to follow, but she knew this was coming. She'd accepted that she'd have to tell him eventually the second he noticed at dinner.
Once they've made it to the safety of his basement, she can tell he suddenly doesn't know what to do, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily. "Um...do you want to talk about it?" he eventually asks quietly and she melts at the concern in his voice. Her arms are crossed in front of her, reflecting her insecurity and she sighs. Saying nothing, it only takes a few steps to close the distance between them and she lets her head fall against his shoulder when she's close enough. His arms come to wrap around her and pull her close immediately and she lets out the smallest of whimpers, determined not to cry.
"It's stupid, Mike," she mumbles against his shirt and he runs his thumb up and down her back. "I don't care, El. If something's bothering you, I want to help you." "But..." "Hey. Let me help you."Her exhale is shaky and she nods her head against his shoulder. "Okay," she whispers and pulls back so she can look him in the eye. As he leads her over to the couch and flops onto it, she follows and contemplates the best way to go about saying this. The million different ways she's been rehearsing it in her head suddenly don't sound quite right, so, in true El fashion, she just blurts it out bluntly, grabbing hold of his hand as a sort of anchor and he doesn't hesitate before clasping it.
"The only com-pliments I ever get are about how I talk. No one says anything about who I am. It's always about my speech."She lets her words hang in the air, dangling dangerously, but she's relieved she finally told someone. And that had been the best way she could've described it. She was so sick of her speech, something that had been impaired thanks to who she used to be, being the only thing that she received attention for. Didn't anyone care about who she was? About the person she had worked so hard to become?
Mike's thumb traces lazy circles on her hand and it's a while before he finally says anything. And it ends up being the thing she least expected. "But...I compliment you all the time." When she turns to look at him, she sees a hint of sadness in his deep brown eyes, and it clicks where his train of thought had headed. She rushes to reassure him, saying, "No, Mike it's not you. I like your compliments. It's...everyone else. It's like...it's like they don't see me," she tells him with a sigh, turning her gaze back down to the ground. For the millionth time, she's grateful that he can understand her with such simple words.
Something inside her knows her self worth comes from more than the way she can talk, but years of feeling worthless combined with the way she's been treated lately is tearing down what she thinks is true. And sure, with him all her doubts about herself disappear like that as he gives her all the love he has to offer, but when she goes out in the world, she can't help how quickly they come back to life.
Mike remains silent as he reaches around to put an arm around her shoulders and pull her against him. She's not sure what she expects him to do about this, if she expects anything, but just to be held by him is something she realizes she definitely needs right now.
"I'm sorry, I know it's stupid," she reiterates, suddenly feeling the need to rationalize her thoughts and brush them off as inferior. "I don't understand why I feel this way." "Just because you don't understand something doesn't make it stupid," he mumbles against her hair. Her lips curl up into a smile, because he's right. He's always right.
A few moments pass before he quietly tells her, "You know you're worth so much more than how you talk to me, right? I was yours back when you barely said anything," and her heart feels like it's about to burst. She raises her head to tenderly kiss his cheek, pouring all her gratitude into the simple action, before letting her face fall back into the crook of his neck contently. No longer does she cling to him for comfort, but she now remains tangled in his arms because being this close to him warms her from the inside out—always has, always will. Her problem temporarily resolved, she lets it go for the night, choosing to stay cuddled against him instead.
She's almost forgotten about their conversation by the time she next sees him, about a week later (far too long in their opinions). But, she's heard from him every night when he's gotten in the habit of calling her over the SuperComm again, this time not to let her know that he's still waiting for her, but to whisper that she's beautiful and he loves her for who she is. She knows it's in response to her doubts and insecurities, but it still means the world to her and she absolutely cannot wait to see him today. She's so wrapped up in her excitement as she stands in his entryway waiting for him to finish getting ready that she almost misses it when Mrs. Wheeler speaks to her. "How are you Eleanor?" she calls from the kitchen and El has to do a double take, ending up just staring at her probably longer than she should have.
"I'm fine, how are you?" she responds timidly as she walks into the kitchen, watching Mike's mom flit about, putting various things away. "I'm good, thanks for asking!" she replies and El nods, still perplexed as to why she's suddenly being addressed. "How's Hopper doing?" El shrugs. "Same as usual. Stressed, but doesn't want to admit it," she replies and when Karen gives a small chuckle, the corners of her lips involuntarily twitch up into a smile. "Of course he is. I'm glad you two are doing well," she says as she turns her attention to the dishwasher. "What are you and Mike up to today?" "Ice cream," El says simply, her smile growing at the thought of what Mike had planned out for their little date. "Ah, sounds lovely. I hope he treats you well," she responds and El quietly murmurs "He will," not quite loud enough for Mrs. Wheeler to hear. Sensing a lull in the conversation, her gaze flits over to the dirty dishes piled in the sink and without a second thought, she asks, "Do you want help with those?", gesturing to the teetering stack.
His mom pauses for a second, glancing over at the dishes then back to El, a pleasant smile making its way onto her face. "I can take care of it while you two go have fun together. But, thank you so much for offering, Eleanor. You are such a sweet girl, Mike's very lucky to have you," she tells her sincerely and like that, the weight on El's chest disappears. "And I'm lucky to have him," she responds clearly, before turning around when she hears footsteps on the stairs. "Mrs. Wheeler?" she calls, spinning back on her heel and the older woman glances up with a smile. "Thank you," El tells her quietly, knowing she's grinning like an idiot. Her confused expression isn't lost on her, but she replies, "You're welcome," all the same and with that, El heads out of the kitchen, feeling light on her feet as she glances up to find Mike coming down the stairs.
"Mike!" she cries and races up the steps to meet him halfway. "Did you hear what your mom said to me?" she asks in a very excited whisper and Mike just grins, moving so he's on her level. His hands rest on her shoulders so he can look her in the eye when he replies, "People love you for you, El. Please don't ever forget that," putting the cherry on top to her emotions and she's positively beaming as she pulls him in for a hug. He wraps his arms tightly around her and she feels her insecurities wash away, in their place, the reassurance that who she is inside is more than enough.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone