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pickingupmymercedes · 5 months ago

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She's here and he won't let her give up- Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

request : "God, you're bleeding, how did you do that" + "you're the strongest person i know.". For lewis and his kid when they're learning a new skill in a sport and it doesn't go well so they're frustrated. Fluff, please. Thank you - anon

pairing: dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It was too cute to stay as a blurb, so it's part of one of my favorites series now ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The chlorine of the wave pool filled the air, punctuated by Y/d/n's excited squeals.

Her tiny figure, clad in a bright purple wetsuit, bobbed on the churning water, anticipation etched all over her face.

Lewis, heart swelling with pride, watched from the sidelines. It had been months since Y/d/n had first begged him to take her surfing, a request fueled by memories of her father and his friends on their surfing days. Today, that dream was finally coming true.

The instructor, one of Lewis’s first ever surfing friend back in the day, began his pre-lesson talk. Y/d/n, perched on her board, listened diligently, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As the lesson unfolded, Lewis couldn't help but grin. Watching Y/d/n paddle like her life depended on it, trying to catch her first wave, was like watching a miniature of himself – full of determination.

But the initial enthusiasm soon gave way to frustration. The waves, though manufactured, proved surprisingly unforgiving.

Each attempt resulted in a tumble, Y/d/n disappearing momentarily under the water before resurfacing with a sputter. The falls frequent, but the smiles were unwavering. At least, until the very last try.

A particularly bad wipeout, where the board smacked into her chin, sent tears welling up in her eyes as she clumsily crawled back out.

Lewis waded into the water, concern etching lines on his forehead. "Hey there" he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "What happened?"

Y/d/n sniffled, wiping a stray tear, and pointed at her chin, a small patch of red blossoming through the water beads. "I think I'm hurt, Dad," she mumbled, her voice thick with hurt.

Lewis's initial amusement turned to alarm. "God, you're bleeding, how did you do that?" He examined her chin gently, his usual stoicism replaced with a tenderness reserved only for his kids.

"The board hit me," Y/d/n said tearfully. All the frustration of the failed attempts came flooding back, and she buried her face in her father's chest.

Lewis held her close, the cool water lapping at their waists. He could feel the tremor in her small body, it sting him just as much as it did to her. In that moment, Y/d/n wasn't the one showered with media attention and expectations. She was just a girl, hurt and discouraged.

A wave of guilt washed over him. Had he been too ambitious? Should he have started her somewhere calmer?

Lewis scooped Y/d/n up, helping her out of the water. As they made their way to a nearby bench, the familiar scent of saltwater mingled with the aroma of sunscreen, created a nostalgic cocktail that tugged at Lewis's heartstrings.

He set her down carefully, her tiny body still trembling slightly from the ordeal.

Y/d/n, biting back fresh tears, reached up gingerly and touched her mouth. "My tooth!" she wailed, a new wave of panic flooding her eyes. "It's loose!"

Lewis examined her mouth, spotting a slightly loose tooth. Relief washed over him, as he identified the loose tooth.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, pulling her into a hug. "It's okay. It’s just a baby tooth, that's all. Happens to all big kids."

With practiced ease, Lewis dug through his bag, producing a first aid kit and a bottle of water. He wet a cloth and dabbed at Y/d/n's chin, murmuring soothing words as he cleaned the small wound. Her eyes, still brimming with tears, watching him intently.

As he tended to her, his mind drifted back to a time when he had been in a similar situation, filled with with fear and uncertainty.

It was a late spring weekend, and Y/n had meetings out of town she needed to attend in person. It was also the first time Lewis would be alone with Y/d/n for an entire weekend.

He had been by himself with his daughter plenty of times, but not for that long, and he couldn't deny there was a safety net when Y/n was around – a reassurance that if anything went wrong, they had each other to try and fix it.

That morning, after waving goodbye to Y/n at the airport, Lewis felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. Y/d/n, just turned two years old, looked up at him with his wide, trusting eyes. He plastered on a confident smile, hiding the apprehension gnawing at his insides.

The first day went relatively smoothly. They spent the morning at the beach, Y/d/n toddling around by the sand, just like they'd always do. In the afternoon, they built a fort out of pillows and blankets, Y/d/n's giggles filling their Monaco apartment before she crashed on her afternoon nap.

But by bedtime, the cracks in her routine began to show. As Lewis attempted to wrangle Y/d/n into her pajamas, she squirmed and fussed, a tiny rebel in the making. The bathwater, once warm and inviting, had turned cold during the struggle. Frustration bubbling up inside him, taking a deep breath as he reminded himself to stay calm.

Lewis settled her into bed, reading her favorite story in a soft, soothing voice. Her eyelids drooped, and soon, she was fast asleep. He watched her for a moment, his heart swelling with a mix of love and relief as he thought things were starting to take a turn for better.

But the peace was short-lived. In the middle of the night, Y/d/n woke up crying. Her wails pierced the silence. He rushed to her side, scooping her up and rocking her gently.

She clung to him, her tiny fists gripping his shirt as he saw all the signs she had an ear infection, a recurring issue with the toddler that was growing up swimming by the Mediterranean ocean she was a native to.

Panic rose. What if he couldn't comfort her like Y/n used to? What if he somehow screwed up her medicine? What if he didn't know how to settle her? He felt helpless, the weight of his earlier fears crashing down on him.

But as he held her close, Y/n on the phone with them, their toddler’s cries gradually subsided, replaced by soft hiccups. She nuzzled into his chest, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep on his arms.

In that moment, as he sat in the dim light of her room, laid amidst her stuffed animals and princess comforter, he finally understood he didn't have to be perfect. He just had to be there, to love her and protect her the best he could.

Lewis finished cleaning Y/d/n's chin and gave her a reassuring smile. "All done," he said softly, his voice filled with the same tenderness he had used during those long-ago nights.

Y/d/n looked up at him, her tears replaced with a disappointed glint in her eye. "Thanks, Dad," she said, her voice small.

Lewis ruffled her hair, his heart swelling with pride. "You're a tough cookie, you know that?"

He saw the same flicker of self-doubt in Y/d/n's eyes that he'd felt himself years ago.

"Hey," Lewis said, his voice gentle but firm. "Look at me."

Y/d/n met his gaze, her lower lip trembling slightly. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he asked, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

Y/d/n sniffled and nodded.

"You know," Lewis said, his voice resolute. "It's not just about catching the wave. It's about getting back up, no matter how many times you fall. That’s part of life. What really matters is whether you let it keep you down or you learn from it and try again."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "You fell a million times today, but you never stopped trying. And that's the mark of a true champion, Y/d/n. You're brave, you're persistent, and you never give up. You’re the strongest person I know."

Y/d/n blinked, the tears receding slowly. A small smile played on her lips, though her lower lip still trembled a bit. "Can we try again tomorrow?"

Lewis couldn't help but laugh, the fear of earlier replaced by a surge of joy. This little girl, with her scraped chin and missing tooth, was a mini him in the making. And he wouldn't trade this moment, fear and all, for anything in the world.

"Of course, we can," he said, ruffling her hair. "But first," he added with a wink, "let's get you some ice cream and celebrate one less tooth."

Y/d/n grinned, wiping a smudge of tear and seawater from her cheek. "Deal," she said, fist bumping her dad's hand.

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 5 months ago

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pt. 1: Manic pixie dream girl

(s.h. x desi!fem!reader)

warning/tags: use of (y/n), she/her pronouns used, based in 2010s, mention of cheating, bad parents, arguments, alcohol, mention of homophobia, toilet jokes (literally. i apologize), everybody is atleast a lil bicurious (except robin ofc)

a/n: and it starts!! i know i rreally kept yall waiting on this one and i probs will continue to do so (oops) im just out here trying to teach yall about delayed gratification lol soz

this fic went in crack fic territory for a bit of this chapter (yes the toilet museum is an actual place) i swear i don't know why my fics end up having potty humour sometimes I'm sorry

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist

masterlist

…

[Challa]

The last time Steve Harrington went on a vacation was with his parents when he was thirteen.

When he turned fourteen, his dad told him to focus more on school and sports and stopped bringing him around.

And sure, maybe it was also because during that past vacation, Stanley Harrington was found with screwing around with his secretary by his wife. Steve didn't remember much of it; he was hiding in the other room when the shouting began. Thankfully the walls muffled most of it.

it was after that vacation, things changed, Steve finally started to see through the cracks in the image his family always put up– the picture-perfect family. The well manufactured family photos hanging throughout his empty house tried their best to hide everything ugly. He started to see how in the photographs, his dad refused to stand closer to his mom, how his mom didn’t smile.

The expression on his father’s face that closely resembles a scowl, as if he was forced to take a picture with a business partner and not his own wife and son. The expensive dress his mom wore along with her makeup done perfectly. The grey bags under both their eyes.

Finally, himself– hair shorter than it is now because his dad always told him a real man never lets it grow past his ears, all slicked down and brushed aside, his expensive suit that made him better dressed than any other thirteen year old in town and his teeth stretched in what his mom called his ‘million dollar smile’.

It was after that vacation, that his mom stopped trusting his dad, and Steve didn't blame her– he stopped trusting him too. from that point on, Steve's mom would always go with his dad for his business trips. He tried not to think about if his dad ever saw that girl again.

Things changed. His mom, who had always loved gardening, hired a guy to take care of the flowers instead. the flowers were never as bright as they were when she used to take care of them. And sure, she had always liked wine, but now, Steve couldn't recall when he didn't see her with a bottle next to her or with the twig of wine glass twisting between her fingers.

Things changed. They are tired now, both of them.

So yeah, he didn't have the fondest memories of vacations.

But when his two best friends, Robin Buckley, and Eddie Munson suggested a trip before the latter leaves for a band tour he had managed to land, Robin gets into her new college and he himself gets ready for his dad's work– Steve just couldn't say no.

Currently they were in a random shop of the airport. Steve's legs are stiff from the long flight, same with his neck. if it was socially acceptable to lie like a puddle between the aisles of a store in an airport, he would do it.

“Robs, how long is this going to take?” Steve asks.

she ignores them as she cards through travel brochures and books, her back to the two boys. Steve adjusts his hold on the heavy basket, the thing filled to the brim with random snacks and some alcohol because the in-flight meal really was not it, plastic of the handle digging into his palm.

“Just pick one and let's check out already.”

“No.”

Steve once again readjusts his hold on the basket, hoping that the robin's crankiness is because of the long flight and not because she is still mad at him, “why?”

“Because someone has to plan where we are going to go. And neither of you two are too keen on it–”

"Don't drag me into this Buckley-" Robin shoots eddie a stern glare before he could even finish his sentence. He clears his throat before excusing himself from the aisle. The wheels of the suitcase he carried squeak behind him as they roll over the clean tiles of the airport.

Steve sighs– yep, she was still mad at him, “Robs..”, he trails off, hoping she spares him a glance. when she doesn't and instead continues to flip through the glossy pages of the thin book, he speaks up, “Hey, Robin.”

He hears her sigh. “Here", She tosses the books in the basket he had been holding and makes a beeline towards the cashier without sparing him a single look, "let’s just go.”

…

[Ek akela is sheher mein]

The sky is in this inbetween of day and evening with grey clouds above them while they load their luggage into the cab.

Eddie sits upfront, his frizzy hair now in a bun. Steve sits in the back with Robin, hoping to strike up conversation with her but the pair of headphones over her ears don't let him do so. Steve sighs, he can tell that she isn't listening to music, but they make it pretty clear she doesn't want to have a conversation.

The windows are cranked open, they have dried up water streaks– it might have rained not too long ago. The asphalt is glistening, reflecting the yellow streetlamps and the red taillights. The cab driver drives like Eddie– a bit too fast for Steve’s liking. Tires splash murky rainwater into little mesmerizing sprays when bikers drive through the puddles, surely wetting some of the passersby with the dirty water. Steve doesn't think of the dirty laundry those people would have to do though, or the showers those people have to take. Instead, he focuses on the sound the water creates, ringing against the metal of the underside of the car, a satisfying sound.

The cab driver takes so many turns, Steve lost count after the third one. A song plays on the radio, an old song, he can tell by the static and that accompanies the singer, the crackle at the beginning of the song. He doesn't know what the man sings in the song, it is quiet with its percussion, delicate with the strings. Steve catches Eddie absentmindedly tapping his fingers on his knee.

Steve looks over the console, it reads 106.4 FM. They're stuck in traffic when the song fades off. two voices come on, who Steve assumes are the hosts. They talk amongst themselves, joke, laugh, yet they speak with a perfect cadence that makes him think they've done it for ages. By the time the traffic gets moving, another song starts playing, this one more chipper than the last one.

The driver weaves through the crowd, making sure to use his horn more than is necessary. when he turns into a lane, Its a tight fit, the car and the road, yet somehow, he manages to maneuver the vehicle around the lamp post and random wrongly parked bikes.

The entire time they are checking into the hotel, Robin stands separately, flipping through the magazines near the sofa of the waiting area. Steve and Eddie fill in details and she only speaks up when asked for an id card. The staff helps them take their luggage to their rooms. Robin wordlessly goes into her room.

It is when Steve is taking off his shoes, Eddie jests, "what a scene ain't it Harrington?" Looking up, Steve finds the older boy holding the curtains wide open, the window faces a brick wall, despite being promised a good view. Steve doesn't say anything, he breathes out what can only be described as a half-hearted chuckle.

“What do I say to her?" Steve asks, running his hands over his face.

“Don’t ask me,” Eddie shakes his head before hanging his jacket inside the closet, “it's you two who have the whole platonic soulmate shit going on, I'm just a third wheel over here”, he mumbles rather dryly, heading towards the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

...

Robin's room was right in front of theirs-- room 105. Steve knocks on the wood. The door swings open after a few seconds, and there is Robin in comfier clothes, makeup taken off and a deep furrow between her brows, “hey.”

“You plan on being mad at me for all of this vacation?”

“...No, but you make it really easy”, she rolls her eyes opening the door a bit more so he could come in.

“Yeah… I’m sorry”, he apologises with a small grin as he slips in.

“I know dingus”, she chuckles a little, closing the door.

he looks around the room, “Dude, this room is so much better”, this was definitely more spacious than the one he and Eddie were in, “Or maybe that’s ‘cause mine has Eddie in it.”

She holds up the bottle of vodka they had picked up at the store earlier, “don't mind if I do”, Steve makes grabby hands at the bottle, grinning when she passes it to him. He twists open the cap and pours it into the glasses she holds up that already had some water in them.

the corners of her lips curl up as well, “mine has somewhat of a balcony too”, she tells him, handing him his glass.

“dude, what?”, his eyes widen. and when he walks over, pulling the curtains aside he is met with the glimmering city skyline, “our window faces a brick wall”

she laughs before sliding the glass door open. stepping forward, the balcony is small– the railing a mere two steps past the threshold of the sliding glass door. Robin leans, her elbows resting on the cool metal railing and Steve wipes away some of the rain droplets with his palm before following suit.

Despite it being around 9 pm, looking at the skyline it seems the city of Delhi never sleeps. there's a faint buzz of upbeat music playing somewhere close– there must be a club nearby. or a wedding.

“We should go clubbing tomorrow”, Robin suggests, raising her glass up in the air towards him.

he hums while raising his own. glasses clink, “sure thing, partner” he says before he downs the entire thing, face scrunching at the burning taste on his tongue.

Robin sips some of her own, her gaze moving down to the road below. There is a litter of puppies chasing each other around the empty street, the warm yellow light of the lamp post filtering over them. an older dog sits by the street light, watching over them. it's quieter than what the rest of the town seems like, hushed, calmer than the rush they had met on their way here.

Steve frowns at his already empty glass and goes back in the room to retrieve the bottle, pouring himself some more on the way back to the balcony, “shouldn't we offer some to Eddie?--”

“we need to talk”, she interrupts him.

they both pause as he gulps a bit of his drink before saying, "well, we are aren't we?"

"no, like talk-talk"

“ok”, he nods once before his brows meet in confusion, “about..?”

"you said it yourself, I can't be mad at you the entire time we're here."

“Robs, it's okay–”

“I think it's pretty obvious I don't like you going for that job.”

“mhm, yeah, you've communicated that well enough.”

"exactly! and you still can't get it through your thick skull"

"what exactly?"

“you don't want that job steve! I know you. you don't like that kind of job and I don't want you to do this thing just because your dad is pushing you to do it”, her grip on her glass tightens, “it's-- it's stupid. thats a stupid thing to do.”

“it's not stupid Robin–”

“i want you to do a job that makes you happy, finance doesn't make you happy”

“believe it or not robs, working at scoops also didn't make me all that happy, working with my best friend did. and you'll be moving out to chicago”

"if I get in", steve takes offence to how quickly she shuts down that possibility.

"you will. I know you don't believe it Robs, but you'll get that college you wanted and then you'll move out. and Eddie is doing all these gigs, trust me", he turns to her, silently begging for her to look him in his eyes, "me going for this job is the best option, Robin." When her eyes stay trained on the street below, he sighs before looking back up at the sky-- no stars in sight. "and you're right, it's not a job I want. but I do need it. and if my asshole dad is still willing to help my sorry ass then I should seize it right?"

he glances back at her, he doesn't get a response from her, yet Steve looks at her with furrowed brows, begging for her to agree.

two of the puppies wrestle amongst themselves, it's all high pitched barks and rolling around, dirtying their fur in the process.

its quiet for a while, he sips his remaining drink. for a while its just that ambiance, the muffled city noise, dogs barking, the hum of air conditioners.

"dude, you're going to become a finance bro", Steve finally hears her say, "then I'll be best friends with a finance bro, ew", she scrunches her face the way he knows it's mostly playful, a laugh falling from her lips by the end of the sentence.

I want you to do a job that makes you happy.

I want you happy.

he laughs too, breathy. he readjusts his grip on his glass, leaning against the rails next to her. “I'm gonna save up, robs”, he promises looking her right in the eyes-- its hard to see the blue in them in this dark, “and if everything works out we can just get an apartment in Chicago then we can be roommates?”

she looks back at him, brows shooting up, “...you promise?”

“pinky.”

she gulps before taking another sip from the glass in her hand, “I don't wanna lose more people steve”, she says, her thumb wiping the condensation on the glass in her hand, and he can tell she's trying her darndest to not let her voice crack.

her parents hadn't taken kindly to her coming out. she hadn't even meant to come out. Vickie's ex boyfriend had outed both of them to their parents– it had been a mess.

whenever she'd tried to call her parents, as soon as they'd realise that it was her, the line would cut off. Once they recognised that she'd always call from either Steve's or Nancy's, they stopped picking up altogether.

it's been months.

“you won't ever lose me Robs”, he immediately says because there is no doubt in it, meaning it more than anything else.

She leans her head on his shoulder, letting in a deep breath, and somehow Steve just knows it means ‘I love you, dingus’

He wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder ‘love you too birdie’.

Silence takes over, but it isn't all that much quiet, the puppies bark, their feet splashing against the little puddle they are playing around now. The two who had been fighting are licking each other. The faint music is still present, cars still honking away in the heart of the city– people honk a lot here. It's all faint but there.

“So", he takes in a deep breath, "you plan where we're going yet?”

Robin takes her head off his shoulder before clearing her throat, “yeah, a bit–", she takes a sip of the forgotten drink in her hold, "there's just so much– there's too much honestly. maybe we get a guide but like those are expensive aren't they? I don't know, maybe they aren't–"

"Robs slow down"

"Okay, okay uh... I have a couple places down", she walks back into the room, picks up the book she had gotten earlier and hands it to him. Flipping through the glossy pages, Steve sees a few monuments and tourist attractions are marked by a pen, Steve is sure he can't pronounce most of these names.

“Oh, did you know they have a toilet museum here?” Robin speaks up after some time.

“wh–”

“before you say it, yes I'm being serious, they have a toilet museum, and were going there”

“seriously? they have historical buildings, monuments, tombs and shit and you wanna see a toilet museum?”

"we'll go to those places too but I also wanna see a toilet museum"

"why?"

"so I can find a place for you and Eddie to live."

“thanks", he deadpans.

They discuss and talk through their plans for the next day. its after midnight when Steve says his goodnight, the bottle of remaining vodka in his hand. for Eddie of course.

“Night Steve, kiss Eddie goodnight for me!”

“shut up.”

….

Despite having zero concrete plans, Steve, Robin and Eddie were definitely behind on their schedule. Sleeping in too late made them miss their free complementary breakfast that the hotel offered.

Steve was so hungry that he would eat Eddie if it was morally and ethically an okay thing to do.

They instead had to order the hotel food which took way too goddamn long to come. Thankfully, when they were done, the hotel manager offered them a guide and a cab to show them around.

The guide was fluent in english, talking about the history of the places he took them. Qutb minar, Jama Masjid, Swaminarayan Akshardham, Humayun's tomb, india gate, lotus temple, All historical places and important monuments. And as beautiful as they were, all the information sort of muddled together for Steve. although incredibly knowledgeable, the guide was going a bit too fast for him.

when the tour for the day was nearing an end, Robin bought up the toilet museum. If the man wasn't getting paid such a good amount, he wouldn’t have bothered to even hide his judgement like he did.

...

“That one looks like a confession booth”, Eddie points to the wooden seat that looked to be from the olden times, and much to his credit, the description was in fact apt.

“That one just looks like a bird-bath!” Robin points to the one in question and once again the description was accurate.

“This one is just a glorified flower pot.”

“Is it really glorified though?”

“Do you think… they'll let us sit on it? I wanna sit on the confession booth one”

“.. I dont know robin, why dont you ask them.”

“Please, do not touch them”, the guide interrupts them immediately.

“Dude, that one looks like a therapist's chair!” robin skips towards the toilet seat in question, having the time of her life. The other two follow behind. Steve looked around at the multitude of posters hung on the walls– who knew toilets would have such rich history. Along with informative posters, the walls were also covered in comic strips related to poop– toilet humor at its finest, truly.

Steve takes a big gulp from the water bottle Robin had made to hold. just when he is doing so, he feels someone bump into his shoulder, some of the water spilling onto his shirt from the action.

"oh shit, I'm so sorry!" you apologise with wide eyes.

a "sorry" falls from Steve's lips as well even though he didn't do anything.

Your wide eyes morph into a shy smile, “oh shit", you mumble, giggles erupting from your throat before you even know it, "You know ‘cause– uh.. Shit", you try to explain, gesturing around you.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I get it”

“Sorry, by the way”

“Its okay. I wasn't looking”, you smile a little shyly when he shakes his head, “I was just looking at… all this”, he pointing his thumb in the general direction of the wall. You hum through a small laugh "I mean who would even think of a toilet based museum?"

“maybe it's a dig at how the British took everything else so…."

"holy shit, that's an interesting way to look at it"

"yeah, pretty sure it's not true but that's how I choose to look at it"

“I– I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch your name–”

“Hey, Steve!” he stops midway when he hears his name from across the hall, voice belonging to Robin.

“Sorry, I have to go, I've been here for hours,” you start walking past him, glancing at your watch, “Fun meeting you, Steve.”

"Who was that girl?" is the first thing Robin asks when Steve finally walks over to them.

He shrugs, "the hell am I supposed to know?"

"So you talked to her for like half an hour and you don't know?"

"It wasn't that long, Munson."

"it felt that long, especially considering the second hand embarrassment I felt from way over there."

He rolls his eyes, unscrewing his abandoned water bottle and taking a swig from it while walking ahead.

“Hey dingus, quit being sulky.”

“I'm not being sulky”

“Yeah, you are. I mean, what were you expecting Harrington? a meet-cute?”

“no, dude. I was just trying to talk to someone normal”

“I know the urges are there harrington”, Robin starts, making Steve scrunch up his nose at her choice of words, “its been months since the break up– I get it. There's a time and place for everything. This was not it.”

“Oh my god”, Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Give poor Harrington a break Robin”, Eddie’s hand claps the boy's shoulder, speaking with a kind cadence– one too kind for Edward Munson, “maybe he hasn't moved on, didn't he say that she was the one?”

“The one? Doesn't our hopeless romantic say that about every girl? Even me, at one point– if I remember correctly?”

“God, you're never gonna let me live that down are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, stop”, Steve holds up his hands, “I wasn't doing anything. she just bumped into me and… small talk happened, that's it. end of story. and I'm not being sulky or anything. and yes I am very much over the break up, it happened months ago. So can you both stop bringing it up all the time?”

Robin and Eddie share a look, “..sure.”

…

Eddie and Robin had already collected back the room keys, and already left for their respective rooms. Crowning Steve with the responsibility of handling the finances with the tour guide. It is when Steve is paying the guide, the glass door opens. And when Steve glances over, he is met with your face. He can't help the smile that creeps onto his face.

You haven't noticed him yet, instead walking straight towards the counter. "Room 111”, he hears you say while he tries to hand the money to the guide as quickly as possible.

The guide nods, thanking him with a smile. The key clink when the manager puts it on the counter, Steve is there and the words come out of his mouth before he even knows it. “Toilet museum girl?”

Your head snaps towards him, features morphing into what can only be described as disgust. There is a flash of recognition before you say, “uh… what the fuck did you just call me?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just– we just keep running into each other, don't we?”

A smirk comes onto your face, you swipe up the keys from the counter before you start moving towards the elevators, “That we do. Are you stalking me?”

“uh, not intentionally, no", he clarifies, following behind you.

You give him a look, "uh huh."

"I know it looks bad but I swear it's happenstance"

The elevator button lights up beneath your finger when you press it, "Sure", you say in a tone that says you do not believe him at all.

"i swear I'm–"

"I already said ‘sure’", you deadpan, the doors ding open and the both of you step in. He sees the corners of your mouth curl up when you move to press the button for the floor you both were on, Steve couldn't help but smile too.

"yeah but the way you said it... said otherwise"

"what? what way?" your brows pull together, voice with the same sarcastic lilt.

"you're doing it again, toilet girl."

"Here's a deal steve, don't call me anything toilet museum related and I'll stop using that tone."

"deal. but... what should I call you then?", he asks, shoving his hands in his jean pockets– trying to take a confident pose, "I could call you by your name... but you won't tell me"

"have you heard of stranger danger Steve?", You cross your arms, turning towards him, "what if I was a serial killer who only murders in small suffocating elevators?"

The elevator dings again, the door opening on their own accord, "then it's a good thing we're here already!", he says, gesturing for you to step out, "and we aren't really strangers--"

"we are."

"Well, we can change that, can't we?", you stop at your room number. you don't answer, but Steve is sure he heard you hum under the rattle of your keys.

When the lock clicks open, he speaks up, “Hey, uh... what're you doing tonight?”

You turn around, “... uh, Sleep probably”, there’s that tone again.

“No, princess”, he mimics your sarcastic tone but the nickname comes out before he even knows, “before that.”

Your eyes narrow, maybe at the tone, maybe at the nickname, “Nothing, I'll probably rot in bed or something”

“You're alone?”

“Does it matter?” you counter immediately.

“Well we’re going to a club nearby, you can tag along? and if you're with someone you can bring them along too?"

"Why must I? You could be an international axe murderer"

“You think such a handsome, pretty face could ever murder?”

“And what if I say I don't do alcohol?”

“Then you can be our designated driver?”

“Yeah, no”, you sigh, the door knob twisting in your hand.

“Okay, well if you change your mind– it's the club right down the road.”

“Have fun with your friends”, is all you say before disappearing behind the door. And Steve is left behind, staring at the wood, the number 111 mocking him.

God, what the fuck was he thinking?

…

The next morning, they thankfully wake up on time despite being definitely and awfully hungover. So here Steve was, with his messy bed hair and sleep mussed eyes, standing in line for the toaster, with a plate in his hand.

Steve blinks slowly as the queue moves, the air smells like coffee, warm toast, and waffles. He can smell spices too, probably from the dishes which he had never had before or heard the name of. And as much as Steve loves trying out new dishes, a hangover is not a good time to experiment with his taste buds so he thinks he��ll have to chew on toast and wash it down with mediocre coffee this morning.

The line moves forward again, he feels something brush against his back but he chalks it up as an accident and ignores it. He turns when he feels a finger poking into his shoulder and it's you. “Hi”, you smile up at him, you're wearing jeans and a pink embroidered top. Your hair is untied, tucked behind your ears and a little damp.

His free hand immediately flies up to his hair, fingers running through the messy strands to make it look a little more presentable, “uh, hi”, palm smoothes over his wrinkly t-shirt.

“Is.. is that your friend?” you say pointing to Eddie who was standing over at the waffle machine, pouring some honey on his stack.

“Yeah, yeah that's Eddie”

“Oh, makes sense”, you say, met with confusion written on Steve's face, “He kept trying to strike up a conversation. Also his waffles are a little burnt– I wouldn't share if I were you.” Steve laughs at that, fingers still trying to tame his wild mess of hair, “So, I see you had fun at that club last night”

“That obvious?”

“Very.”

"Where are you planning on going today?", you ask.

"not sure, Robin is deciding right now probably"

“Robin..?”

“Oh, she’s over there”, he points to his best-friend who was sitting at an empty table, coffee already in hand, flipping through pages of a book.

"you three really didn't plan any of this huh?"

"no, not really."

…

"so you're telling me you're travelling by car and barely trying any street food. jail. jail time to all of you", you were sitting with Steve and his friends now.

"how the hell were we supposed to know? the guide didn't tell us"

"what was the poor guy supposed to do? you can't see so much in just a couple days"

"but there's just so much", you hear Robin speak up for the first time.

"yeah! and you have to accept that you can't see everything, no matter what you do, you're always going to miss something. so shorten this list of yours. and the things you do see, take your time with them. or you'll forget them."

“Ok bud, then where should we go?”

"well if you want to you can go to the red fort, then chandni chowk and then Hazrat Nizamuddin dargah? Its thursday so it’ll be absolutely packed"

"Okay. Will we find you there?"

"I hope not." you say non-chalantly while sipping your chai.

"maybe– maybe we can all go together?" Steve suggests with raised eyebrows. you make an unconvinced noise at the offer. "Still on the fence about the axe murderer thing?"

"Always."

…

Steve wasnt sure how, but he had managed to convince you to come along with them. He sat infront of you in the auto rikshaw, your hair had dried by the time you reached your first destination.

The tour around red fort ended rather quickly than he had anticipated, before you pulled them all to chandni chowk.

your hair was now tied up, some of the baby strands sticking to the back of your neck. you looked like you felt right at home, skipping from one shop to another. stopping for some delectable street food every now and then.

you were all enjoying a sweet syrupy jalebi when you called for Robin's name, “Do you like wearing earrings?” you ask.

the girl looks at you, a little hesitant when she answers, “Uh.. someti–”

“Here! This one would look great on you”, you say holding up a pair of glimmering silver and blue earrings. "do you like it?"

"I- um, I do", you grin at that.

steve wasn't where the time flew, but they were already headed to your next destination on your list with bags of little things he, Eddie and Robin bought.

...

[kun Faya kun]

It felt weird to be barefoot, you had given all the shoes to a man by a store. Where the four of you stood now, the street looked breathtaking. Small shops, some selling flowers and incense, some selling religious blankets that you had called chaddars, others selling attar, and so on and so forth. The bright greens, reds, blues and oranges of the chaddars illuminated by the warm lights of the shops looked akin to a canopy of swirling colours.

Currently, you were helping Robin put on a scarf you had gotten earlier from a shop in Chandni chowk over her head, just the way that you had. When you were done, you instructed the two boys to cover their heads as well. When you were met with confused looks from the two of them, you clicked your tongue before covering their head with their handkerchief and tying it behind their head.

The man at the store then handed you a few plates with flowers, incense and a few threads, “what are those for?” he asks, pointing at the threads.

“You make a wish with them”, his brows scrunch up together, “come on, I'll explain”, you say, grabbing him by his wrist.

…

“You see these walls? people come from all over, they tie a thread”, you say pointing to a man who was tying the red string into the lattice of the wall. the entire wall had such threads tied to them-- all little prayers and wishes made by someone out there. so many people want something. “and they make a mannat. you tie a thread and make a wish. it's like you're asking for a favour.”

“so I ask for whatever I want?”

“whatever you want", you echoed with a smile before pointing to where a lot of men were by the wall, “you boys do it over there, me and Robin are going there– it's reserved for women".

When Steve is looping the thread through the hole, he does so mindlessly, and only when he is about to tighten the knot does he stop to wonder… what exactly is he wishing for? what the hell does he want?

He looks over at Eddie, who already has his temple leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. Steve wonders what he asked for. he thinks he has a hunch.

Without even thinking, his eyes start searching for robin. he sees you help her tie it before the girl leans her head against the wall too. Steve knows full well what she wants.

And then he sees you, you hesitate while looping the thread. you hesitate when tie the first knot. you hesitate for the second. even from this far away, he could see the hesitation in your eyes before you close them.

He blinks and his gaze snaps back to his own thread, the knot still not tightened. His fingers move on their own when he ties the first one.

what does he want?

He twists the red thread, looping the long end through the loop.

what does he want?

And when he ties the last knot, it echoes in his brain, “what do I want?”

…

The group of men sing at the top of their lungs– their voices carrying experience, a roughness that only years of singing can bring. Eddie explains to Steve that the instrument the man was playing was called a harmonium and a dholak.

“how do you know that?”

“I know a lot, Harrington”, he chuckles when he says it.

Steve glances to where you and Robin are sitting among the other women. and despite being surrounded by such a huge crowd, he can tell Robin is calm which he is glad of. He sees you; you're looking at Robin with an expression he can't quite read, and when she glances your way, you quickly flash her a smile before reverting your eyes back to the singing men.

Its awkward, he can tell that much from afar. He thinks Robin is a little nervous around you, maybe finds you attractive with how little she makes eye contact with you, and how everytime you had said anything to her, it was answered in merely a couple words. He can't make sense of your behaviour though, or the way you look at her a little forlorn. he thinks maybe you're hurt by how unwilling Robin might seem to talk to you despite your constant attempts.

[Aaj jaane ki zid na karo]

You all had come back to the hotel an hour or two ago. As soon as you all had arrived, you had left for your room, something about a call you had to make. And now after taking a bit of a rest, they were getting ready to spend whats left of the night at the club they went to last night.

Steve had his fingers crossed, planning on inviting you with them, hoping to god that you agree because he had fun. a lot more than he would like to admit to you or even his friends.

They're all in Steve's and Eddie's room. Robin all ready, sitting on the edge of his bed. Eddie is tying his shoes, his hair already up, his favourite rings on his digits.

Steve himself was trying to get his hair right, despite how much he had styled his thick strands at the start of the day, they were a little flattened now after the day. after he put some pomade on and his hair was just the way he wanted it, he sprayed on his cologne. just when he was contemplating whether to take his ray-bans with him or not, there was a knock on the door.

Eddie who had been putting on his jacket, was the closest to the door. when he clicked open the door, he was met with your face.

"Hi", you say with a smile before noticing that they're all getting ready to go somewhere. "what're you guys getting dolled up for?"

"We were just going to the club nearby--"

"d'you wanna come with?" Steve offers immediately, walking closer.

"um.. I– I can't..", you mumble apologetically, fingers fidgeting, “I just came here because I wanted to say that I had a lot of fun. And uh, all that.”

"So did we”, Eddie says.

"I just wanted to meet you guys before… leaving"

Steve’s face falls a little, “What do you mean?”

“I'm heading out around 2 am. I have a flight at 4. I'm going south after this."

“Oh.”

Its silent. Nobody says anything, what could they say anyway, you were still technically a stranger– they didnt even know your name yet. You hid your hands behind yourself, perhaps picking at your cuticles. Your eyes flitting between all three of them, “I didn't just want to leave so…”, you lift your arms, Eddie who was the closest, hugged you first. Then you moved to Robin, not giving her a second to say anything, you wrap your arms around her shoulders. After maybe a second, she wraps her arms around you too, patting your back a little awkwardly. When you pull away, her face is a little red. You offer her a smile and she finally returns a rather timid one herself.

Your eyes meet Steve’s, you walk over, he moves closer as well. And when you are face to face, you smile up at him. There's a light in your eyes, subdued but there. And from up this close, he thinks you can see it all, all of him. All his doubts, his insecurities, anxieties. Yet you're smiling up at him.

You rock him a little when you hug him, taking him off his balance. He envelops you in his hold, squeezing tighter than he thought he would. "I really had fun”, his eyes close on their own accord when he feels your warm breath on his neck, when he feels your smile on his skin.

“My name is y/n by the way."

Steve pulls away just a little, eyes trained on yours, "can’t you come with us before leaving? It won't take too long."

"Steve...", you start, voice all soft and apologetic.

"No, its okay", he shakes his head before smiling.

You return a smile back before looping your arms around his neck once again, "I'm glad we met Steve."

"me too."

You pull back, looking him in the eyes, you whisper, "goodbye."

"anyway… Um–”, you clear your throat, Steve's hold loosening on you and you remove your arms from around him as well, stepping away. You stiffly walk towards the door, stopping at the threshold, the knob in your grasp, “you guys have fun! don't get robbed or scammed or whatever. Bye." you gave them one last sheepish smile before closing the door.

...

Prayers entwined into the thread of us all

mine was empty

I lied to the strangers I met, free as wind

she reminded me of her

Its not like we’ll meet again, I'll be loud and cheap

she doesn't look at me just like she did

I’ll hug them goodbye, I’ll be a mystery.

...

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