Capítulo 48: 48. Snow (Mileven)
For my dearest AliKattt, who's turned into one of my favorite people from this part of my life (writing). I can't thank you enough for all the reviews and rants, you're seriously one of a kind and I love talking to you. I get excited every time I get the notification of your comments because I know that no matter how short or long it is, it'll always make me feel happy about my writing. I hope I did you some justice with this fic-present. Happy Birthday and happy reading, toots! (It is still July 6 here, but you said that in NZ it was your bday already, so I checked the time zones *+17 hrs holy cow* and decided to post this on your actual birthday).
Shout out to the person who comments what song inspired this. (Seriously, it's hinted since the first line. If you don't get this, y'all are weird).
PROMPT: AliKattt's birthday present: Mileven fluff, some months after season 2.
When he was younger, he had witnessed his mother crying in the darkness of the kitchen. It had been an accident of course, and she had tried to play it off by telling him that she was just thinking of something else while she wiped her tears.
He could tell she was lying; at the age of 8, Mike was very smart. He knew his parents were going through a rough patch. He didn't know what originated it, or if it had always been there but he was too oblivious to notice it.
He only remembered the way his mother had trembled as she held him, telling him not to worry, she would be okay.
That, the fake smiles and the fake love he realized his parents showed, along with the way girls walked away from him with a disgusted expression on their faces, made him resign to the fact that he wouldn't experience love.
Maybe it didn't exist. Maybe it was pure crap and it was just another way for the capitalists to sell their merchandise, with fake sentimental promotion. He promised he wouldn't fall in love. The pain, the tears, the heart break. All for phony smiles and a ring? It wasn't worth it.
But this... he knew he must have done something for the fates or God to like him a great hell of a deal if they sent this to him.
He never believed in love until he met her.
The first time they were together, even if it was only for a week, he knew El was special. The void she left in him after she disappeared was proof of it. And the way life was breathed back into his lungs the minute she stepped inside the Byers' house showed him that what he felt ran way deeper than he had initially thought.
It was one of those rare days in which Hopper let them be alone for more than an hour; he had dropped El off at his house, promising to be back after sunset. Karen had some errands to do, and thankfully, she had taken Holly with her.
They were alone.
And if this was one of those corny movies about discovering and exploring the differences between boys and girls, they'd be peering into each other's clothes by now.
But no, they weren't in a corny movie. Mike certainly felt a bit corny, his thoughts too intense and sickeningly sweet, but they were only in his mind.
Her hand traced patterns on his face, fingertips cold to the touch, and he tried to control his facial movements as her pointer finger ran down the length of his nose.
"You're cold." He whispered, his lips twitching when she lightly pressed her nail in the crease of his mouth. Unable to help himself, he raised his hand and grabbed hers. He kissed her cold fingertips, butterfly touches as he opened his eyes again.
And this is why he thought she was the exception of his promise.
The light of the basement highlighted the golden tones in her curls; the chestnut strands falling against her face as she sat next to him, looking down at where he was observing her. Her eyes glinted with every move of her hazel irises, the big Bambi orbs accompanied by curled lashes that brushed against her under-eyes and tickled his face when they kissed. Her small shoulders blocked the light from the little window on the door, and the white light from there shadowed her silhouette.
Her lips were rosy, like her cheeks, and her nose twitched when he reached out to touch them. His thumb pressed against the tiny freckle by her mouth, following the crease of her skin as she smiled.
Just the sight of her was enough to make his heart flutter.
"I want to see it." She whispered, tracing his eyebrows.
"What?"
She looked over her shoulder, her curls spilling from her shoulder over her back, a cascade of browns and golden rays. "The snow."
He sat up slowly, her attention back on him, and he smiled at her when she shuffled to be closer.
"But you've seen it before. Remember? At the cabin?"
"But I couldn't go out and I wasn't with you."
He smiled again, leaning in to kiss her cheek just because he wanted to. He felt her skin warm up under his lips, and when he pulled back, her cheeks were rosier.
Their eyes met again, and she giggled softly, the fluttering in her stomach matching his. The indescribable feeling that he felt was shared by her too, and even though he always thought he wasn't meant to have it, he couldn't help but feel like it was love.
"Come on." He grinned, taking her hand in his to pull her up.
They wandered upstairs to his room, finding comfy sweaters and gloves to shield the cold from their bodies.
He pulled one of his hoodies over her head, chuckling gently when she got stuck. He kissed her nose lovingly once her face reappeared, and he was rewarded with one on his cheek when he helped her put the gloves on.
He opened the front door of the house, the cold air hitting his face immediately, but he endured it just because of the excited exhale she let out behind him. Pulling her by the hand, they shuffled out of the house, their footsteps sinking into the thick cape of snow.
"It's cold!" She exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder as she took in the whiteness around them.
"It's ice," he explained with a chuckle, pulling her closer. "Of course it's cold."
"Can I touch it?"
"Without gloves?" He frowned, watching as she shook one hand free.
"Oh, it's colder like this." She breathed, flexing her fingers in the cool air.
He smiled, watching her crouch down and dip her hand into the snow. She made a fist, the snow slipping from her digits like wet clumps of sand.
The cold reddened her face; her cheeks were splotchy, her lips nearly crimson as she kept licking them from the cold, and the tip of her nose was turning pink.
His lips were begging to be pressed against her face, so he gave into his desires and waddled closer.
She yelped in surprise as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose against her cheek. "Now you're cold." She laughed quietly, her bare hand slipping into the back of his hair. He closed his eyes, basking in her scent and the cool weather as she massaged his scalp.
Somewhere along the lines of a random book, a paragraph stuck to his mind. It seemed fitting.
"Did you know," he breathed against her skin, his warm breath puffing out into a cloud as it mingled with the ice particles in the air. "That you're very special to me?"
"Yes," she whispered, her lashes fluttering against his cheek. The soft brush tickled, but he ignored the sensation in favor of keeping his mouth against her skin. "You're very special to me too, Mike."
"There's people who make your laugh be a little louder, your smile a little brighter and your life a little better. You are one of them." He recited quietly, closing his eyes against the fast beat of his own heart. He felt her fingers go still in his hair, her nails scratching lightly as she lowered a hand to his neck.
She leaned back slightly, keeping the hand on his neck there while the other slipped to his cheek. He jumped slightly when her cold palm pressed against his face, and that made him blink his eyes open.
He knew he was a goner already, but the intense look in her eyes sealed the deal.
"Do you mean it?" El whispered, caressing his jaw.
"Every bit of it." He mumbled back, the weather not the only one responsible for the redness of his face.
Her eyes sparkled, the pure emotion in them starting to shine with wetness before she leaned in. He met her halfway there, grabbing the sides of her face to hold her in place. Their lips were cold, his chapped and hers a bit dry, but neither cared.
He would never get tired of kissing her; of the feel of her mouth against his. When he was younger, he never understood people's addiction to kissing. What was the point of pressing your mouth to another? It kind of grossed him out, if he was being honest. The germs and saliva they shared was disgusting. But he understood the infatuation once he got to do the gross kissing himself.
And he understood there was nothing gross about this either; her soft, pretty mouth, lightly sucking his own lip between hers, sharing the intimate gesture between them... how could this be anything but sweet?
Is this what love felt like?
He didn't know, but he was determined to find out, as long as it was with her.
"El?"
"Yes?" She wondered against his lips.
He leaned back a little, smiling when he found her eyes still closed, lost in the feeling. He couldn't blame her. The aftermath was always warm and fuzzy; he wanted to drown in her.
"I once made a promise to myself... about never falling in love."
Her eyes opened in an instant, a hesitant edge to them. Her forehead started creasing with worry, but he put a stop to it with a kiss.
His cold nose was pressed to her hairline, and he inhaled, loving the way she smelled of summer in the middle of winter.
That was what she represented for him. Warmth. The sun. The stars. The depth of the ocean. The breeze of the sea.
"But I think that's one promise I'm willing to break for you."
He felt more than he saw her smile. Her lips stretched against his chin, the lifted corners making creases appear next to her eyes, and he smiled with her, chuckling lightly at the feeling in his chest.
She looked up, nose frosty and cheeks red, eyes bright and dark while bits of snow clung to her curls. And he swore he would never see someone as beautiful as her. "I'll fall with you."
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