#and i feel like i keep confusing y’all 😂😅

[aquaquadrant]

Oooo not having the concept of years makes so much sense! It works really well for immortal characters too, but also gives us a few more questions (ooo goodie! Worldbuilding is like a puzzle to me I love the interlocking, logickjng puzzle bits like this!) if they have no years, how do they handle and categorize recorded/known history? I mean the kind of stuff that any existing… I don’t wanna call it a civilization but you get what I mean, would keep track of, stuff like city founding, wars, shifting powers, large historical events and the like? (And this goes for the greater universe outside of hels too, parhaps more so, as they would probably be more likely to keep track of universe-wide important events)

So, an adding proposal: while players don’t really have a concept of years on a smaller, personal level, they do have the concept of Ages, as in a time period, an Age or Era of history. These can be anywhere from decades to many centuries long, and their beginnings and ends are much more nebulous, mostly defined retrospectively by larger events (if you were doing updates, I’d suggest these as a few good examples, but eh) instead of referring to events with dates and such, it would be more like “[X event] happened about three quarters of the way through the [Y name] age” it’s all very approximate and nebulous, but at least it gives some context to important events and how they relate to each other! (My brain is the kind that really likes that stuff) what age the world is currently in is a topic of hot debate between anyone who actually cares, hels might still be in the last/most recent age, or If you ask someone in New Hellington, they might say it’s the beginning of the Aliskrian Age!

oh hmmmm i guess i should clarify, the way i view it is that players do have a concept of years, but they just don’t use or think about it much after a certain point? their communicators keep track of how many days they’ve lived and that can translate to years. so like, bravo had to specifically make a point of keeping track of how long he was in hels, otherwise he wouldn’t have known.

cuz like, the universe has infinite worlds and countless players. trying to keep tract of a collective ‘history’ would be near impossible- the only things that really get a timestamp on them are documents and videos shared to the multinet so i suppose that could be a way to keep track of certain events (like the invention of certain types of farms).

hels, on the other hand, is a totally isolated world, so while they’d all have a shared history, they don’t have a multinet. so record-keeping isn’t much of a priority for them. all their news is by word of mouth or one-on-one whispers anyways, cuz no one chats, so most of the population only knows what they’ve personally experienced or heard about, and are clueless about the rich, overall history of hels (and the rest of the universe ofc).

categorizing as ‘ages’ is a neat idea! tho i think that kind of implies a much larger time scale than i’m working with, like on the scale of hundreds-thousands to millions of years? but maybe i only think that bc it’s the only context i’ve heard the term used in irl 😂

[sunnibits]

Trust me on this when I say that my 18th birthday did not make me feel like an adult lol, sure you may legally be an adult but nothing will change about you overnight.

Growth is slow and even as I’m nearing 20 I still do not feel like an adult! And I think many people feel like that! So take your time and have fun at whatever age you are :)

Oh don’t worry, there’s a reason I specify “legally”, I’m well aware that turning 18 isn’t gonna change much 😅 I have every intention to treat it mostly like just another age and take my time with things :)

I feel like some people I know get really freaked out about turning 18 but I’ve always been like, idk man, you’re still the same person, you don’t really have to change anything about your behavior and activities if you don’t want to??? I’m just looking forward to being more independent lmao

I do appreciate the reminder though!! It’s kinda funny being a minor surrounded by a lot of adults online, but if I’m being honest, I think seeing a bunch of 20-something year olds agonize over how they still don’t have their life together has been a very helpful perspective 😂 Like, okay, y’all are all confused as fuck too, I’m gonna be fine 😅 just gonna keep doing what I do and take it easy 😌

[mmunson86]

Lol nooooo Steve why did you stop Robin she was just about to spill the tea to us on what Eddie has been telling y’all about us , oh lets not be too hard on ourselves i am sure that the gang will like us💗

Way to TRY to save the day but we know its not Donnie who has been filling you guys in about us its Eddie but nice save😉

Yeaah we are something like that.. we were babysitting him at that halloween party & we made sure he was home safe so yeah we are his babysitter😅

Nancy is a beautiful girl and i know that we are shy & have some issues but hey we are just as beautiful & Eddie would be lucky to have us with him lets give ourselves some credit & just like that Dusty Bun gives us the biggest hit that Eddie might see us as much more than just his employee / neighbor , Eddie most defiantly have a crush on us🤭

Ohh man it breaks my heart on how hard we are being on ourselves , i am sure its due to insecurities & i am positive Eddie made that face because he doesn’t want us to know that information , maybe Eddie is insecure too , maybe he might think we would never look his way , like he isn’t worth loving…little does he know that he does deserves to feel & be loved💗

It is sweet that the gang came & surprised Eddie makes me sad that he only has Wayne as blood family but this group of friends is now part of that family its all Eddie needs💗

Balahaha Shesh Robin how does one swallow and egg WHOLE? Seriously that had to hurt😂

ISTG i love Steve because i was ready to cry not even going to lie i felt like it was getting way to hard to even stay positive but Steve asking us not to give up on Eddie…it must mean something..clearly Steve sees something we don’t

OUR problem? Eddie what is YOUR problem shesh holy hell you are so confusing one moment yout hot the next your cold like WTH you are making a bitch head spin with how fast your mood changes ! Staaahp it i just want to freaking kiss him we are both being so silly & ill always worry about you Eddie! He really just apologized? My heart is melting ugh i cant i cant! I know he has his issues , i want to make them disappear, i want to give this man the moon & stars🥹💗

OMG we were so close gosh we should have kissed him! The details babe! You freaking had me in the moment with the way you described every little tinny moment before we walked back into the bar i was LIVING in that moment 🥹

Steve Harrington drunk asleep under a bed?!? I cant, how did he even get down there😂

Babe we dont care about you being a dealer in the past! Eeek this chapter was so freaking good! I literally cant wait for more this keeps getting better & better💗🤭

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Ten - A Chemistry Lesson

W/C: 8.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

You Are In Love - T.S.

A/N: so i decided to split the chapter up, I started moving into another scene and it only felt right to give it it's own chapter as it opens up the night. i hope you guys love this chapter as much as i love this chapter <3

Masterlist

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“Dustin Henderson!”  The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–”  Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

Frozen.  You’re frozen in time, an influx of information and new faces rendering you a speechless idiot.  Each one stares expectantly, awaiting some kind of a response, more than likely drawing their own conclusions about your silence and lack of communication.  They were going to be so disappointed in your shyness should they even have the patience to wait around.

Before you can humiliate yourself, Steve saves the day as an offended Robin glares at him, rubbing her stomach rather dramatically.  “Donnie.”  He states, only creating further confusion.  Several people stood before you and Donnie was not one of them, you were now struggling to keep up with the current interaction at the mention of her.  Overstimulated.  You were definitely overstimulated.  You can’t even imagine the dumb face you were sporting, the silence too loud as you struggled clinging onto words.  Any words in the English language at all at this point.

“Donnie has told us all about you.”  Steve elaborates finally.  “All good things, I promise!”  He chuckles, seemingly attempting to ease your anxieties that had made themselves evident in your wide eyes and worried forehead creases.

“Oh.”   

“Yeah, yeah!  And she’s told us all about how you’re Eddie’s new babysitter.”  Robin chimes in again, earning a pointed look from Steve.

Eddie’s reaction is lost on you, his existence temporarily vanishing as you take in the current conversation.  The idea of being perceived was one thing, it was entirely another to be perceived by four strangers who had apparently already been made aware of your existence.

“What she means is that we’ve heard you’ve been a good friend.”  Nancy softly smiles.

Friend.

You didn’t quite know why but the word felt insulting.  Not on any account of Nancy’s, there was no malice detected in her tone though you were still intimidated by her and figured with her being the prettiest girl in the room, she must at least be on Eddie’s radar.  The word ‘friend’ was starting to feel vulgar the more it played over in your head.

“Yeah, ‘friend’.”  Dustin uses air quotes, a wild grin on his youthful face.

At this, Steve delivers a harsh smack to the boy’s abdomen, more aggressive than he had done to Robin seconds ago.  

“Henderson.”  Eddie reprimands.

His voice lures you in despite your inner protests, your gaze traveling over each unique face until it settles on his.  That familiar distress showcases itself in the form of a frown; there was no telling what reaction you had expected of him but something about it makes your heart drop, your stomach feeling as if it was free falling in the worst way possible.  Were you really that repulsive?

It was obvious Dustin had only been joking but the disgust on Eddie’s face only forced your tear ducts to strain, your eyes becoming glassy in seconds.  It was a long shot, thinking that there could be any semblance of interest on Eddie’s part and you suppose you should be to blame for your hurt feelings.  He owed you nothing and here you were mourning over something that never was, all because he had let you see a piece of the inner workings of his mind.  It didn’t warrant a one way ticket into his heart.

“What!?”  Dustin shrugs, unbothered.

Robin steps forward, an apologetic smile gracing her features as she addresses you.  “I promise we’re not all gigantic dinguses.”

A flood of complaints spills from Dustin and Steve, Nancy only rolling her eyes at the interaction before taking the initiative in pursuing the conversation with you as the others bicker, Eddie only spectating the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Dustin doesn’t always know when to keep quiet.”  She giggles, subtly pulling you to the side, her hand gentle as it rests on your forearm.  It almost repulses you, although your logic kicks in and pieces together that this woman has never done anything to elicit such a response from you.  “But he always means well.”

The heat was dying down, the unsolicited jealousy now tame within the confines of your body, not totally gone but no longer raging just beneath the surface.  If it were up to you you’d ball up the lingering feeling and burn it, if it were only so easy.

“Are they brothers?”  You ask, recalling that night you drove him home.  He only spoke of his uncle, Wayne.  He did also mention Dustin but never insinuated that they were related.  Based on the way they were interacting, you’d assume they were brothers in some sense of the word.

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

Nancy’s gaze follows yours, locking in on the two boys catching up.  “Dustin and Eddie?”  Her puzzled expression already grants you your answer, though she continues.  “No, no they’re not related.  You’d think they are, with all the fantasy stuff they talk about and what not.”

“Fantasy stuff?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.”  Her perfectly plucked brows raise.  “My brother used to have me play with them, thank god Eddie stepped into the picture.”  She mutters.

“Eddie did mention Dungeons and Dragons.”  You nod. 

“And Dustin’s little drawing.”

“And the drawing?”

Your grin along with Nancy as you simultaneously speak, a few giggles filling the air between you.  

“So your brother is…Dustin?”

Amidst the calm conversation, Steve and Robin are cheering a few feet away, both of their arms now slung around Eddie.  It wasn’t clear what they were celebrating and it even seemed that they were just trying to embarrass him in that true friend fashion.  It was sweet, how much they cared about him, the lengths they went just to surprise him.

Nancy gracefully shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing with the movement and freckled nose scrunching playfully.  “No, no.  Dustin is one of my brother’s best friends.  Mike is my brother, he’s back at home in–”  Before she can reveal where ‘home’ was, her bright blue eyes widen.  “Back in Indiana.”  She corrects herself.

“I think Eddie’s mentioned Mike a few times.”  You recall the conversation, how he took Mike and Dustin under his wing in highschool.  “He couldn’t come?”

“He’s studying for midterms.”  She shakes her head.  “He really wanted to come but…you know between his girlfriend in California and college it’s just all…a lot.”  Her eyes are kind, probably the kindest you’d ever come across.

“I’d love to meet him one day.”  You smile, only hoping that you were reciprocating the same compassion she was radiating.  “And Max, and Lucas, and Wayne…”

Nancy’s eyes seem to brighten, ears perking up at the names.  “He told you about everyone?”  She asks softly, her baby pink lips upturning slightly.  

You nod.  Another eruption of laughter and shouting forces your attention toward the rest of the group, a proud grin displayed on Dustin’s face only hinting that he had just made a joke that even had Eddie hunched over in laughter, Steve’s arm still draped over his shoulder with his head thrown back.

“That is not funny.”  Robin pouts, arms crossed.

“I think it’s pretty funny.”  Steve smirks.

Nancy politely excuses herself from your one-on-one conversation, joining Robin’s side.  “What’s not funny?”

“When Robin swallowed an egg whole–”

“It’s not funny!”  Robin continues to protest.  “I almost died!”  

This only makes the boys cackle more, pulling an eye roll from Nancy.  

“C’mon Nance.”  Dustin grins.

“Yeah, c’mon Nance.”  Eddie chimes in.

Nance.

Why did it rub you the wrong way when he said it?  You assessed Nancy’s body language and nothing conveyed to you that she had any interest in him, however your mind continued it’s unruly torture.  Even so, Eddie had made it clear what he thought of you, that you were ‘too busy dry humping’ Jett and that even though that couldn’t be further from the truth, he would still lose respect for you.

Heat burrowed deep in your belly once again, the kind that wasn’t yet uncontrollable but should anyone add fuel to the fire would result in your own self destruction.  All because Eddie had to go and cause a scene.  All because he had a temper that never rested even when it appeared dormant.  

“I-um, I’m gonna go get the drinks–what did–what did everyone want?”  You manage to pitifully scramble the sentence together and eventually get your point across.

“Stevie!”  Donnie interrupts, crushing the poor guy in a tight hug.  It makes you question her disgust for physical touch.  

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, a twitch of his eye only projecting a smidge of discomfort but other than that he contently hugs her back.  They begin catching up, everyone completely ignoring your request for their drink orders.  It’s not their fault you were so invisible, it was just your nature, you were always meant to be put on the backburner until further notice but for some reason it causes an extra deep pang in your chest this time.  Especially since Eddie had completely disregarded you as he jumped into the conversation.

With the tiniest huff, you quietly step away to make yourself useful behind the bar.  A pair of blue eyes follows you, considerate blue eyes that you attempt to ignore.  If you looked carefully enough, you’d see that pair of ocean blue eyes making connections between yourself and a certain brown eyed man.  You were in no mood to act as a detective though.

–

It was irresponsible.

Your track record so far was evidence enough.

But as you stared down the bottle of tequila sat in front of you, howls of laughter and echoes of inside jokes entering your ears even from the other side of the bar, it seemed like more and more of a good idea.  Or like the only idea.  

You could have one shot, just to relax the nerves, make you more approachable.  No one would notice.  You could come off as the friendly stranger in the background instead of the miserable mouse in the corner.  It was for your benefit.  Your thoughts would become less intense, your bitterness would melt away.  Eddie would temporarily become the dream boat he had previously been in your eyes rather than a mouthy douchebag, your hazy mind would erase his wrong doings if only for a few hours.  

You hope.

Or maybe you’d open your eyes and see what Eddie was seeing, had you really shown any interest in Jett at all?  Maybe a shot would be enough to introduce you to the narrative.  Maybe you should let loose and throw yourself at Jett for the fuck of it.  Bad decisions were starting to sound more appealing the harder you stared at the bottle of liquid courage.  Until your careful thought process was interrupted.

“We doin’ shots?”  

The deep but soothing voice catches you off guard, calm brown eyes and concerned brows gaining all of your attention.  They weren’t the brown eyes you secretly hoped for, even if they were the most infuriating sight you could possibly be faced with at the moment.  No, they were a lighter hue, the overhead light casting golden flecks within the irises that regarded you with genuine interest, his lips pressed together tightly as he awaits your answer.  In his hand he holds what looks to be a scotch on the rocks though it could also be whiskey, you were no expert quite yet.

“Uh…no.  I dunno.  Maybe?”  You squint your eyes painfully.  “Forget I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”  Steve takes a seat at one of the vacant stools directly across from you.  “But…”  He clicks his tongue.  “If you are going to, count me in.”  He smiles charmingly, finishing off his drink.

“I…”  You’re about to take the sensible route, you’re so close to making the right decision.  Then again, bad decisions were far more tempting.  Especially with the help of an unaware acquaintance.  “Okay.”  You sigh, offering him a friendly grin.

Without further consideration, you pop the bottle cap off, pulling out two sparkling shot glasses and setting them on the counter confidently.  At least you didn’t have to drink alone.  

“Munson giving you a hard time?”  Steve suddenly inquires.  Your eyes nearly pop out of your head which you assume is why he elaborates.  “I know he’s kind of intense.  The first year he moved out here he was…he was so fuckin’ unhappy y’know?  And I know what you’re thinkin’: Why is this guy, Steve, who I just met, going on about Munson?”  He begins to ramble.

Slowly, you start to pour the foul smelling alcohol into one of the glasses as you listen intently.  A few drops trickle down the side but it goes ignored as you watch Steve’s every move.  He toys with the glass he’d just finished off, spinning it over and over again in circles atop the bar, a ring of condensation following.

“Don’t–fuck how do I say this?”  He pushes a weft of voluminous hair back.  “Don’t give up on him.”  Steve practically pleads.

You stop pouring the tequila, pausing to chew on your lip and look at him in confusion, which encourages him to continue.

“Look, Donnie was talking about how–how you’ve been really good for him.  And I don’t know–I just–I could sense that…you were mad at each other–you and Eddie, I mean.”

He takes your silence as a means to further explain and god, he could feel a migraine coming on just by the way he was stirring things up but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  Not when Donnie had been so adamant about Eddie being in such good spirits since you showed up only to come face to face with an almost seething Eddie, and Donnie wordlessly conveying to him that something was wrong.

“The point is, I know that he’s an asshole, okay?  Whatever he did, I’m sure he deserves a slap to the face.  Just–don’t give up on him.”

Steve’s words sink in.  You aren’t sure what has been said but it’s apparent that the tension between you and Eddie tonight was obvious among his friends.  You ponder his request–to not give up on Eddie as you fill the second shot glass and slide it across the counter.  If anything, Eddie had given up on you by accusing you of messing around with Jett.  It was insulting and humiliating.  Dehumanizing.  

“I think he’s the one who gave up on me.”  You admit, tossing the shot back with teary eyes.

The sting spreads down your throat, the potent smell filling your nostrils as you slam the glass down.  Your eyes are glassy though you only hope Steve can gather that it's just from the alcohol and not the idea of Eddie essentially throwing whatever you had in the garbage combined with the burn of tequila.

As if caught off guard, Steve quickly throws his shot back, apparently an expert as he doesn’t flinch, only widens his eyes as he slams the glass down as you had.  He exhales heavily, nodding, thinking to himself.  You await more wise words, more advice that he had no business giving although you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“What are you doing?”

The world feels distant and not because of the alcohol.  Your blood runs hot, most definitely because of the alcohol.  The question is asked with such outrage that it almost has you shaking.  Getting caught was more embarrassing than any outcome you could’ve imagined though you didn’t even try to hide the evidence, didn’t even go as far as to take shots in the back.  Did you subconsciously want Eddie to catch you?

“Nothing.”  You mutter, quickly capping the bottle and setting it on its designated shelf.

“I just saw you.”  Eddie grits, hands splayed out on top of the bar, his arms spread out as he attempts to keep quiet so as not to interrupt the customers scattered throughout the bar. 

Eddie’s glare burns a hole into you and maybe it’s because of Steve’s sudden advice, the fact that he felt the need to stick up for Eddie even when he didn’t know the whole situation, but you refuse to give in.  He holds a fire in his eyes that you hastily reject as you begin cleaning out the shot glasses.  It was your goal to come off as unbothered but you fear you’re coming off more as guilty.  Like a dog that had been caught chewing up the family couch.

“It was my fault.”  Steve chimes in nonchalantly.

Eddie glances over, brows knit together in irritation.  “Your fault?”

“Yeah, we were getting acquainted.  I insisted, it was–”

“Steve had nothing to do with it.”  You fess up.

Eddie’s face reveals a whole other level of rage, his eyes nearly glazing over with black.  You fucked up.  That much you could admit to yourself.  Steve appears to be panicked, his gaze glued to the bar top, his hands gripping the edge, nails threatening to dig into the wood.

“Meet me in the back.”  Eddie demands, pushing himself off of the bar.  

Terrified doesn’t even begin to explain the list of feelings coursing through you.  You’d never seen him as angry as he was tonight.  You were drinking on the job, something that in a small town usually isn’t a big deal but with all of the tension hanging in the air, you could only assume it would add to his irritation.  It would only give him more ammo against you.

Steve offers you an apologetic stare, clearly also taken back by Eddie’s irate mood.  And then, he half nods as if to wish you good luck before standing and making his way back to the rest of the group.  As you timidly step out from the bar and round the corner, you catch Nancy’s sapphire eyes before they disappear, your legs carrying you into the narrow hallway where the office was located.  Except Eddie wasn’t in there and you could only conclude that he was outside.  ‘Meet me in the back’ meant ‘meet me outside’.  Which could only mean he was about to unleash hell on you if he needed to completely remove you from the building in order to reprimand you.

You don’t let yourself prepare, you need to face him without any thoughts clouding your judgment, only further shoving you into the hole you dug yourself.  With a push to the metal door, you’re met with an aching cold, the kind that stings the surface of any exposed skin.  Immediately your cheeks burn, a few snowflakes landing delicately among your eyelashes.  You should have grabbed your jacket.

Leaning against the hay bales stacked like a Tetris game, is Eddie.  A cigarette hangs from his lips while he struggles to keep the flame on his lighter alive, the wind fighting his every attempt.  He grunts in annoyance, his head tilting toward the sky as if to personally ask it ‘why?’.  Already, his cheeks and nose are tinted pink, borderline red.  You contemplate asking if you could talk inside but you quickly bite your tongue, you didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“What’s your problem?”  He asks simply.  As if he were asking for the weather forecast.  It’s insulting, quite frankly.

“My problem?”

Suddenly the fear that had consumed you seconds ago dissipates, no longer plaguing you and being replaced with a wrath you’re convinced no one else on the planet could pull from you.  Even worse, he refuses to look at you, keeping his stare on the cloudy evening sky.  

“Are you trying to get fired?  ‘Cause I should fire you right–”

“Oh yeah, go ahead.  Fire me.”  

He’s quiet, attempting to light his cigarette once again.  This time he succeeds, the stick catching the flame as he inhales and tucks his lighter into his back pocket.  You begin to question if he even cares about the cold until you see the goosebumps pricking across his arms.

“I should.”  He mumbles, taking another drag.

“Great!  I’m glad we’re on the same page.”  You reply, sarcasm dripping from each syllable as you rub up and down your exposed arms.  It didn’t help that you decided to wear a skirt and tights tonight either.  

Without time to process, he takes a large step toward you, his breath hot as it fans across your face.  A sense of softness flashes in his eyes before they return to the fiery nature they previously exhibited.  His cigarette idles in his hand at his side, his jaw clenched and visibly tensing before he scowls.

“Same page?”  He bites.  “The same page.”  His free hand rubs along his jaw in thought.  “Okay, if we’re on the same page then explain to me why you’re doing shots with Harrington?  If we’re on the same page then we must be reading completely different languages because you started this.”

You scoff, his statement on replay in your ears.  Each time it plays again you find yourself even more enraged.  “I did?”  You’re smiling but there’s not an ounce of happiness in your features or your tone.  

Eddie backs away, the heat from his breath is missed, no matter how mad you are and no matter how strongly it smelled of smoke.  He paces, turning around before coming full circle and facing you again, another deep drag from his cigarette indicating that he’s stressed.  Then he nods, bangs falling into his eyes as he does.

“You did.  You just–you start ignoring me, start acting like I’m not even a person?”  He points the cigarette at you and you’re starting to believe that in the midst of his rage, he’s completely forgotten about the cold whereas it was the only thing you could focus on.  Regardless, you fight through it, even if your teeth chatter.

“And, and–hold on.”  He shakes his head, curls following his movement as he rushes inside.

Great.

He left you out in the cold, literally.

You weren’t going to wait, his disrespect wasn’t going to keep prodding at you, not if you had anything to say about it.  He didn’t get to storm off and leave you outside in the freezing cold, even if you did do something you weren’t proud of.  He was probably going to wait and see how long you would hold out, how long you would sit in the cold before inevitably running in and looking for him, how stupid you would look–

The door squeaks open again, smacking against the wall as Eddie comes racing out, leather jacket in hand.  Well, if he was allowed to grab his jacket then so were you.  His cigarette hangs from his bottom lip as he begins muttering around it.

“You started treating me like I didn’t exist, I don’t know how normal people react to that but–”  He adjusts the jacket, flattening out the material before draping it over your shoulders, encouraging you to put your arms in the sleeves.  “I assume any normal person would be fuckin’ pissed so I guess I’m not–I’m just not understanding.”  He says a bit harshly.

You don’t react, frozen as he waits for you to put your arm in the sleeve.  While he’s still visibly aggravated, his eyes also communicate something else to you.  The deeper you look into them, the more his pupils dilate, a nervous gulp noticeable as he awaits your reply.

“C’mon, you’re freezing.”  He whispers, a large contrast to his previous tone.  It’s warmer, it’s familiar, it’s like home.

“What about you?”  You mumble, staring dumbly into his big brown eyes, his lashes heavy against his cheeks, unlike how they were seconds ago when he was wild-eyed and riled up.  He was still riled up, that was for sure but now…now it was diluted with something else.

“Don’t worry about me, Bambi.”  The term of endearment slips from his tongue effortlessly.  Like it was meant to fall from his lips directly into your ears.  Like it was meant for you and only for you, always.

With parted lips, you can see your breath escape into the night.  You know he can hear your labored breathing and you should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his gaze softens, the sturdy exterior he had built up again crumbling just as it had that one night.

“I do worry.”  

It falls from your lips quicker than you can contain it.  You shouldn’t be offering him such compassion, not when he was so okay with insulting you hours earlier.  But pools of melted chocolate never left you any other choice but to get lost in them.  He moves in closer, ever so slightly, only enough that you feel the familiar warmth of his breath on your cheek, so that you can still make out his whole face.

“Don’t.”  He says breathily.

“Why?”

He only shrugs, his focus trailing down your face, reaching every inch.  It makes you want to shy away but you can’t, not when he looks so sincere.

“‘M sorry.”  He whispers, reaching up to brush a rogue strand of hair from your face.

Your instinct is to ask ‘for what?’, but you know better.  You don’t need to play dumb, both of you are aware of his nasty words and your tendency to take things to a level they should have never gotten to.  You’re both to blame.  But you don’t need to pretend to not know what he’s apologizing for.  There’s no pretending with him.  So you can only hope that he’ll see through to the deeper meaning of your initial question. 

“For what?”

For what?  Would he say that he’s only sorry he hired you in the first place?  Or that he’s sorry he ever met you.  Would he understand your words and be in tune enough to decipher them?

“Everything.”  He whispers.

It’s quiet, almost eerily but not.  No, it’s too peaceful to be eerie.  The first snowflakes of the season are still falling and you’re standing outside the bar with Eddie Munson, a man who was so stubborn he seemed almost impossible.  Almost, but not.  Never for you.

“Everything.”  You repeat.  And he knows he owes you more.

“Everything.”  He swallows the lump in his throat that was preventing him from saying the necessary words.  It goes down smoother than he expects.  “Every second I was ever an asshole to you.  Especially my stupid ass comment about Jett.  I-I was mad and I took it out on you.  I tend to do that pretty often don’t I?”  He laughs humorlessly.  “I don’t think less of you if you’re actually…y’know.”  He gestures vaguely.

“What?”  You ask, genuine confusion taking over your features.

For a moment, his eyes shift back and forth, as if to beg you not to make him say it.

“With Jett.”  He mumbles, gaze now avoiding you.

“With Jett.”  You repeat in disbelief.  “I have done nothing to suggest we are at all together.”  You scoff.  

“I know.”  Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s bracing for more choice words from you.  They don’t come.  “I know.  I just, he got in my head and–”

“Got in your head?” 

“It was nothing, he got in my head and got all, I dunno protective?  If that’s even the word.  He just seemed jealous, okay?”  Eddie explains.  “I know that’s not an excuse for what I said.  I’m really sorry for saying you dry hump–”

“Don’t ever use the word dry hump and Jett in a sentence where you’re referring to me again.”  You laugh.  This time humor floods through you.  His whole demeanor relaxes, shoulders less tense.  “It’s happened one too many times.”  You cringe jokingly.

“Okay, that’s fair.”  He smiles, that boyish grin returning to his face.  The one you hadn’t seen in days, the one you missed every time, the second he directed it toward you the first time.  His dimples deep, eyes shy, he still lingers close to your face, neither of you protesting the invasion of each other’s space.  “Now put your arms in the sleeves.”  He demands, tugging on the collar of his jacket still laying over your shoulders.  “Please.”  His face only inches closer to yours as he convinces you to shove your arms into his jacket.

“We’re about to go inside, I won’t need it.”  You argue, crossing your arms in front of you, a hip jutting out with sass.

“Oh okay, we’re back to this then?”  He smirks, finger grazing the button at the lapel of his jacket, almost scorching the skin of your neck.

That familiar spark ignites in his eyes, the fire that showcased so much unexplored emotion, so many uncharted territories within the man before you.  You wanted to explore them all, you wanted to hold his hand and trek across each foreign feeling.  You wanted to bathe in the sparks and light yourself on fire to speed up the process.  You didn’t just want to burn for him, you wanted to burn with him.  Your soul was drawn to him, you wanted to melt into him, melt into his touch, even if it was just his fingertip.  You’d take what you could get.  And you were really convinced that he wanted the same things solely based on the way he was looking at you with heavy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m not done addressing my grievances with you.”  You joke.

At this, he lights up even more, his entire face exhibiting pure fondness.  His lips are so perfectly pink, a little chapped, but the sweetest pink you’d ever seen.  They were pillowy and plush and as he licked them you blinked, falling out of your trance.  Then, his hands travel down the zipper of his jacket, only touching the worn material and not at all forcing his touch upon you though he longs to feel your warmth.  

Instead, he pulls you forward by gripping each side of the jacket, leaving you no choice but to come flush with his chest.  You welcome the heat, the sudden warmth that engulfs you like a cozy blanket calms your chattering teeth.  

“Yeah?”  He whispers, nose nearly bumping against yours.  You wish it would.

“Yeah.”

Your lashes just barely flutter against his cheek, only teasing him of what he actually desires, and you don’t even know it.  He’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and your internal reaction is to scream at him to just do it.  But is that even what he’s hinting at doing?  Maybe there was something on your face.  You weren’t going to assume his intentions and make yourself out to be a fool.

He hums in response, his hands still tightly clutching the jacket, the damn jacket that you were now wishing he never put on you just so you could feel his skin, the heat of his hands against your arms.  The ache was becoming too apparent in your chest, you needed him and there was no way to express it.  You couldn’t.

He smells of tobacco and a hint of pine.  Even a tiny bit of spice from some kind of cologne you’d grown used to smelling on him.  There’s a waft of beer falling from his breath as well, not too obvious, but obvious enough that you can gather that he had at least had a beer before work or during his break.

“Do me a favor?”  He asks.  And in that moment, you would do anything.

“Mm?” 

A quick finger pokes your nose playfully.  “No more tequila.”  

You can only laugh along with him, almost burying your head in his chest but refraining as you enter your body again.  This was not a daydream and he was not someone to call yours.  Fooling yourself was only going to get you hurt.

“I’m serious, it fucking stinks.”  He scrunches up his face in mock disgust, plugging his nose, you giggling along with his antics.

With that, he pulls away, leaving you feeling frigid, already missing his presence even if he was still right in front of you.  Opening the door, he gestures for you to go ahead of him.  The atmosphere had been flipped upside down, all hostility left outside in the cold to be swept away in a snowstorm.  

–

“And then Eddie fucking jumps off his roof!”  

The bar fills with laughter, unfiltered, stomach grabbing laughter of five friends and yourself.  The regular customers had long gone and paid their tabs, leaving the bar empty and the possibilities endless as everyone shared treasured stories over beers and drinks.  Steve appears to be pleased with himself as the laughter carries on for over a minute.  The image of Eddie drunk and jumping off of his roof as a means to prove he can ‘fly’ only to face plant into the ground and be driven to the ER was somehow the best entertainment you’d been faced with in a while.  

It was mentioned that he didn’t get injured too badly and only required a few stitches above his eyebrow where you could now seek out a scar and remember this night.  The night Eddie’s friends accepted you into their circle.  Even if only for the night.

“Well what about when you got a lampshade stuck on your head.”  Eddie points at Steve with his beer bottle.

Steve only offers a disapproving expression as the giggles erupt once again.  Robin sits to your right while Nancy sits to your left.  The pair had immediately taken a liking to you and moved chairs just so you could sit between them.  It felt nice, you felt welcome.  You had no worries and nowhere to be.  And for once that made you feel alive rather than anxious.

“Okay, but can we talk about you babysitting Eddie on Halloween?”  Nancy attempts to hold in her laughter.  She had said it quietly but not quietly enough as Eddie deadpans her.  

Robin lets out a shriek of laughter, clearly intoxicated.  You can only grin at everyone’s reaction.  Steve and Dustin had gotten into some kind of a ridiculous argument and throughout the night, you noticed it was a regular occurance.  They paid no mind to embarrassing Eddie further but Nancy had no issue with it even if she wasn’t outright talking to the whole group in the first place and only you and Robin.

“What, Munson?  You got plastered and she had to save the day.”  Nancy giggles.  She had obviously been a little wine drunk, a tiny bit tipsy.

“Yes, it’s very funny.”  He says monotone.  “Can we find a new joke now?”  He asks, rolling his eyes although you know he’s only playing around, his lips threatening to pull themselves into a smile.

“It’s okay to get white girl wasted every once in a while.”  You banter.

“Oh, it is?”  Eddie raises a brow.  “It’s okay to puke all over me after getting white girl wasted?  Off of my tequila?”

The table erupts in a series of ‘oh’s’.  You could take offense.  But it was so much more fun to mess with him.

“I’m not the one who got puked on at least.”  You shrug, unbothered.

The table gets loud again, siding in your favor based on their volume.

“Yeah?”  He asks.  As if you two were suddenly the only people in the bar.  As if his friends had disappeared.  As if you were back outside behind the bar just a few hours ago.

“Yeah.”  You answer, a certain softness in your tone that only he could understand.

Nancy’s gaze flits in between you, mischief crossing her features for a brief second, you swear you see it.  But nothing comes of it as she turns her attention to the argument that Dustin and Steve had started up again.  Robin chimes in every now and then, hiccuping dramatically.  You and Eddie, though a little buzzed, can’t stop staring at each other from across the table.  His gaze is heavy and yearning but for what you’re not sure.

His bottom lip continues to get tugged in between his teeth, abusing the already chapped skin as he unknowingly communicates his nervousness.  The only thing you’re sure of is that he won’t tear his eyes away from you.  Not for Steve’s request to aid in the argument, not for Dustin’s screeching voice demanding he take his side, and not for Jett who was making it known that he was leaving for the night.  Eddie only mutters in response, something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’.  Steve and Dustin are too caught up to even pay any mind to Eddie’s ignorance to their debate.  Robin is in her own world, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair as she becomes fascinated with the wood grain in the table while Nancy pretends to be preoccupied with swirling the wine in her glass and acts as if she’s listening to Dustin’s reasoning, nodding every now and then.  But you notice the way her diamond eyes take in the scene before her.  And now you’re sure that she has no interest in Eddie nor has she ever shown it.  

But she does have an interest in whatever was happening between you and Eddie.  She was studying the chemistry.

–

It was 4:00 AM, the sun would be emerging just on the Horizon within hours.  An exhausted Steve lays his head on the table over his folded arms.  Drool threatens to fall from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve, his mouth hanging open as he sleeps almost like a newborn.  Every other breath a deep snore rumbles through him.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place he’s fallen asleep.”  Dustin snaps a polaroid, the flash doing little to make Steve stir in his slumber, his eyelids only twitching as he navigates his dreams.  “One time we found him under his bed.”

You chuckle at the sight, Steve had been completely hammered off of several beers and a few shots of vodka that Robin had convinced him to take with her.  The second he wakes up, he’s in for a rude awakening, you’re sure.  

“Do you take a picture every time?”  You ask as Dustin hands off the developing picture to you, only to continue getting just the shot he wanted as he crouched down to get a better view of Steve’s face.

“Of course.”  He laughs, stating it like there was no other option.

“Steve’s reputation with drinking isn’t necessarily…the best?”  Nancy speaks, setting a fresh glass of water on the table in front of him.

You’d learned throughout the night that Steve and Nancy dated in highschool and although it was a nasty breakup, they remained friends and it never was weird after that.  They respected each other as they did their other friends and it showed.  

“I mean…I don’t think it’s that bad.  He’s just sleeping.  I’ve dozed off while drunk a few times.”  You defend.

“Yeah but have you dozed off in places people couldn’t even find you until we tore the house apart?”  Dustin counters with raised eyebrows.  “He also used to reign under the title ‘King Steve’ if that tells you anything.”

Showing your hands in surrender, you begin collecting the remaining glasses from the table.  Several dozen shot glasses that had provided a good night but would surely bring on a rough morning for those that had participated.  You’d taken two shots throughout the night and had half of Robin’s Dirty Shirley that she couldn’t seem to stomach.  And she wouldn’t quit until it was gone so you humbly volunteered seeing as she was already almost obliterated, stumbling around anytime she got up and slurring every word.

Robin was now talking Eddie’s ear off as she sat at the bar, narrating every piece of her life that he’d missed since she visited and last updated him.  You could vaguely make out her explanation for still not getting her driver’s license, stating that Steve was more than okay with being her chauffeur for the foreseeable future.  Then she insisted that should she get her license, she’d be an even worse driver than Eddie used to be so it’d be in everyone’s best interest to keep her off the roads.  

Eddie hums along to the conversation, letting Robin steer the topic as he leisurely polishes the glasses he hadn’t gotten to earlier, his friends occupying his full attention a majority of the night.  An impressive pile of glasses and cups are building up on your tray, Nancy assisting in collecting what she could as she follows you toward the bar.  

“Nance!  Tell him!”  Robin whines.  “Tell him how I’m a danger to the roads of suburbia!”

“You are most definitely a danger.”  Nancy smiles softly, moving Robin’s bangs out of her eyes with her free hand before delivering the glasses she’d collected onto the counter.

“See!”

“No need to convince me, Buckely.”  Eddie throws his rag over his shoulder.  “Although I’d probably have the time of my life with you behind the wheel.”  He grins, scooping up the tray you were having trouble setting down.  “But I’d also prefer to live a little longer so you avoid that DMV for as long as you can.”

Nancy nods in agreement, taking a seat on the stool next to Robin.  As you rush around the counter to assist in washing the remaining glasses, large brown eyes follow you, as if they missed you.  Like they’d never been happier to see you.  You still shy away from them, only because you’re not sure how long you can last until you melt, until your knees collapse beneath you and you’re a puddle on the floor.

“So what’s our game plan this time for getting Steve to the car?”  Nancy asks.

“Leave ‘em here.”  Robin slouches in her seat.

“Rob–”

“I second that.”  Eddie chuckles.  

“You guys are awful!”  Nancy proclaims.

You can only giggle to yourself, bubbles coating your hands as warm water leaks down to your elbows as you scrub each glass.  A sudden hip jabs into your side, creating enough room for Eddie’s lean frame to partake in the chore.  

“What’s so funny, Bambi?”  He questions, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You shake your head, still tuning into Robin’s scheme to leave Steve behind.  She had obviously been joking, the two constantly bickering with one another throughout the night like siblings only proving so.  But she seemed to enjoy pressing Nancy’s buttons as she persisted in her idea of abandoning the poor guy.

“Nothing.”  You mutter.

Your backs are facing the two girls, neither of them able to sneak a glance at Eddie’s wandering eyes that you could very clearly spot just out of your peripheral vision.  His hands continued to concentrate on the task at hand though not very well as he scrubbed the same tiny shot glass for at least two minutes too long.

“Y’know, you’re not being very helpful.”

With a click of his tongue, he finally sets the overly-clean glass atop the drying rack, reaching over you in the process.  It only made you aware of his comforting smell that you had basked in out in the cold earlier.  You’d never imagine wishing to do dishes for the rest of eternity but here you were, hoping that an eyelash would fall onto your cheek just so you could wish on it to stay in this very moment.

“‘M not?”  He smirks.

“Nope, you’re just making more work for me.”

“Oh, you tell him!”  Dustin suddenly peaks over both of your shoulders, quiet as a mouse until he had made his presence known.  It startles you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Henderson, don’t sneak up on people like that.”  Eddie holds a hand over his chest.

“Look alive.”  He shrugs, snooping around at the shelves that would otherwise be obscured from his view on the other side of the bar.

“Nothin’ for you back here, you’re not even twenty one.”  Eddie turns around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms.  

“Wha-oh don’t be like that!  I only have like two more years and that’s rich coming from you of all people, Eddie.”  Dustin points a finger, sticking it harshly into Eddie’s chest.  

“Do as I say, not as I do.”  Eddie mumbles, returning to his task, snatching up the last two glasses that remained before you could, swatting your hands away.

“What’s he talking about?”  You dare to ask.

Dustin brings an arm over your shoulder, the other over Eddie’s, a huge grin plastered on his face as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the question.  Eddie only offers him a side eye, nothing malicious but a light warning.

“Eddie here used to have a big reputation.”  He explains, patting him on the back.  Eddie only rolls his eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t have any real issue with Dustin revealing pieces of his past.

“Oh?”  You wipe your hands on a nearby rag, turning toward Dustin, intrigued.

“Yeah, he used to be the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Your face doesn’t shift, only making it more difficult to gauge your reaction.  Eddie starts to fear that this was going to be your wakeup call.  Your revelation as to who he really was.  He knows Dustin meant know harm in it and to be fair, the kid had probably snuck a few beers away from Steve.  There was no ill intent, only playful banter although Eddie hadn’t anticipated how you might have felt about his previous endeavors until after Dustin spoke those words.

“Dustin!”  Robin calls for his attention, chewing on a cocktail straw.  

Without a second thought, the boy turns his attention toward the two girls sitting at the bar, making his way around to take a seat next to Robin only to assist her in some kind of party trick she had been trying to work out with a napkin.

“How’s it go?”  She mutters around the straw.

Eddie stares at the bubbles in the sink like they’re the only thing in the room, his eyes following each one drifting toward the drain and idling at the bottom of the basin as the remaining water drains.  Sparkly little bubbles created reflections in his eyes that could resemble stars.  And he waits.

He waits for your reaction, waits for you to detach yourself from him because god, he didn’t know what was happening between you two since stepping back inside the bar all those hours ago but he didn’t want it to end just because his past put you off.  It was inevitable that the single good thing happening to him would come to an end.  That this night would end.

He doesn’t expect you to shove your hip into his just as he had done to you earlier, twirling a rag in between your fingers, offering him a smirk.  

“Big reputation, huh?”  You playfully raise your eyebrows up and down.

Relief washes over him.  It doesn’t have to end.  This night isn’t over, maybe he can have whatever this is for a few more minutes, an hour if he’s lucky.  He’d delay going home if it meant you’d keep toying with him, teasing him over silly little things that his friends had told you about.  He didn’t mind, not when your face would light up at every tiny ‘secret’ you were let in on.  Eddie knew very well that his friends had been enlightening you with small details about his life back in Hawkins, about every time they’d visited Knife’s Edge, all the big moments and embarrassing drunk shenanigans.  He didn’t mind.  Because it meant that they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“Shut up.”  He gently nudges your shoulder with his.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea

[the-sisters-madrigal]

Conexión Con el Arco Iris

Summary: When Mirabel doesn't come to breakfast and the rest of the family is busy in town, Isabela stays behind to check on her. To her surprise, she finds her baby sister sick, and since Mirabel does not want her to leave her to go get some of their mother's healing food, Isabela takes it upon herself to stay there with her, using the opportunity as an excuse to cuddle her sister back to health.

Word Count: 3310

A/N: In case y’all didn’t know about it or already listened to it, you seriously have to check out Diane Guerrero’s cover of “Rainbow Connection.” It’s utter perfection 🥺💕 

Also, a side note, if y’all have heard her sing anything besides “Rainbow Connection” and the songs from Encanto, please do send me the link to it 😅 Listening to her sing and envisioning it as Isabela keeps me going when it comes to fanfics 😂

I hope y’all enjoy! 😊💕

  “Mirabel? Are you awake? You didn’t come to breakfast, and we were all worried,” Isabela called, knocking on the nursery door. There was dead silence on the other side, and Isabela furrowed her brow, feeling an even deeper worry setting in her chest.

  Mirabel had not shown up for breakfast, and since it had been such a busy week, everyone had just assumed that she was likely tired or something and resolved to let her sleep in. However, Isabela and Julieta had been worried about Mirabel immediately, and since Julieta could not stay for long after breakfast, Isabela had decided to go and check on Mirabel to see if she was alright.

  “Mirabel? I’m coming in,” Isabela spoke up, heading inside the room almost immediately. While most people would have waited a short moment, Isabela was not one to dawdle and she preferred to just rip the bandage off fast when it came to Mirabel. It was the way that she had always been with her.

  Despite this, she ensured she was quiet as she came in, shutting the door behind her carefully.

  To her surprise, Mirabel was still lying in bed, cuddled underneath way too many blankets. Isabela furrowed her brow, tilting her head a little. She had never really witnessed her little sister sleeping in so late, and she had never really seen anyone cuddled under that many blankets. Their nights were always so warm and there was no need for more than just one or two blankets.

  Unless, of course, Mirabel happened to be sick.

  With that thought in mind, Isabela came closer, grasping the top of the blankets and pulling back on them some, trying to get a better view of her baby sister underneath them. Immediately, Mirabel took in a sharp breath, drawing in on herself. Isabela furrowed her brow, leaning nearer as she softly touched Mirabel’s head with the back of her hand.

  Mirabel’s head felt hot, but she was not sure if that was because Isabela’s hands generally ran on the side of being somewhat cool.

  Isabela took in a small breath, leaning forward as she delivered a soft kiss to Mirabel’s temple, feeling her temperature.

  “Gosh, I’m kinda feeling like Sleeping Beauty or something now, Isa,” Mirabel joked, and her voice was very concerningly groggy. Immediately, Isabela pulled back a little, groaning as she looked down at her baby sister. Mirabel had a slight smile on her face, but other than that, she did not seem quite like her usual self.

  Overall, Mirabel’s voice concerned her and the sheer heat rolling off of her was also a telltale sign that something was not perfectly right with her. Despite her attempts at jokes, she

  “Are you okay?” Isabela asked, looking at her patiently, and Mirabel furrowed her brow in confusion, trying to draw back underneath her blankets just a little. Isabela instantly noticed and she resisted her immediate urge to pull the covers back further and expose her currently overheating baby sister to cooler air.

  “Relatively speaking… Why?” Mirabel finally questioned as she slowly and blindly reached out for her glasses, and Isabela raised an eyebrow.

  “You missed breakfast,” Isabela pointed out, and Mirabel nodded slowly in recognition, still trying to find her glasses.

  Isabela just reached out, taking the glasses from the nightstand as she slid them onto Mirabel’s face. Mirabel blinked a few times before smiling somewhat weakly.

  “Ah… Kind of explains the empty feeling in my stomach,” Mirabel chuckled wryly, and Isabela narrowed her eyes.

  “Most likely,” Isabela drily replied before offering Mirabel a concerned onceover.

  “So. Is there something wrong?” Isabela questioned again, not giving Mirabel any time to deflect.

  Mirabel seemed to be slowly worming herself down further into the covers. And truthfully, Isabela was extremely close to just heading to town and fetching some of their mother’s food to cram it down Mirabel’s throat regardless of what she would or would not admit to.

  While their mother almost always left food in the kitchen for them, she had been so overwhelmed with work that week that she had not really had time to make anything extra to leave behind at Casita.

  “Well… My throat’s killing me and I’m kind of freezing,” Mirabel admitted, her voice still sounding croakier than it should.

  Isabela furrowed her brow, placing her hands on her hips as she felt some aggravation flare up within her. Her youngest sister was suffering, and she did not even bother telling her immediately.

  “And you didn’t think to tell me that when I asked the first time?” Isabela asked, utterly unimpressed, and Mirabel shrugged a little with some sheepishness in her expression.

  “To be fair, I’m kind of sick and a little slow on the uptake,” Mirabel answered, and Isabela sighed deeply.

  She leaned forward, pulling the covers back. Mirabel gritted her teeth, immediately writhing uncomfortably, and Isabela softly cupped Mirabel’s face in her hands, feeling terrible for having to make her suffer like this but also knowing that the younger girl needed to stay on the cooler side to actually break the fever.

  Mirabel stilled a little of the motion almost instantly, frozen as she stared at Isabela. Isabela just looked down at her carefully, her heart aching as she looked at her.

  “I’m going to town to get some food for you,” Isabela told her, starting to straighten as her hand slipped away from Mirabel’s face.

   However, to her utmost shock, Mirabel’s hand abruptly shot out as she grasped Isabela’s wrist quickly.

  “Wait,” Mirabel quickly spoke up, and Isabela stopped, looking at her carefully. Mirabel just stared at her for a moment, and they maintained eye contact for a few moments. Mirabel hesitantly released her, laughing sheepishly as she withdrew her hand back as she made another attempt to hide under the covers for warmth.

  “Never mind,” Mirabel dismissed, and Isabela offered her a onceover.

  “What?” Isabela asked, reaching forward and snatching the covers away again as she kept Mirabel from getting warmer and worsening her fever. Mirabel immediately cringed, drawing in on herself a little more.

  “No, no, it’s no big deal. I’ll be fine here,” Mirabel assured her, and Isabela furrowed her brow, suddenly realizing precisely what was going on with Mirabel.

  While Isabela had no idea how to really handle anyone who was sick—and especially Mirabel— outside of just bringing them some of their mother’s food immediately, she suddenly realized that Mirabel obviously did not want her to go. Despite the fact that Isabela knew logically that she should just go straight to town and bring something to heal Mirabel instantly, she could not help but find herself hesitating.

  As much as it killed her and went against her better judgement to let Mirabel sit here and exist like this, if it made Mirabel happy for her to stay and if she wanted her to stay more than she wanted a quick fix, who was she to turn her down?

  And apparently her baby sister did not want to admit to this desire for her to stay, so Isabela was going to have to make the decision for her. It hurt Isabela to know that Mirabel did not have the confidence to just demand things from her as younger sisters were supposed to, but she was going to do her best to start trying to give reasons for Mirabel to have that boldness as Isabela should have a long time ago.

  Isabela quirked a brow.

  “Are you trying to make me stay?” Isabela gave her the opportunity to own up to it, just studying her carefully as she made a conscientious effort to ensure her expression was actually welcoming in the midst of the teasing veneer that she had casted over it.

  “No! No, not at all!” Mirabel argued, and she coughed painfully. Isabela furrowed her brow, concern in her face as she eyed her baby sister. Once Mirabel had finally managed to get ahold of her coughing fit, she sobered a little, precisely how terrible that she was feeling starting to shine through clearly.

  “Well… I mean… Unless you wanna stay or something. Like… It’d make a lot more sense to just go and get Mamá’s food, but… I dunno, I just—”

  “Mirabel, you should’ve just asked me,” Isabela interrupted, starting to move on the bed. She paused momentarily, attempting to ensure it was alright before proceeding too far on this track.

  Mirabel quickly made a move to get out of her way, and Isabela smiled softly as she scooted the rest of the way on the bed, lifting her dress to comfortably slide on the mattress with Mirabel. She moved herself so that her back was leaning against the wall, and Mirabel swiftly started trying to drag the blankets so that she could cover up and move a little nearer to Isabela. Isabela immediately raised a hand, stopping her.

  “However, if we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to get out from under those blankets. Just because we have a cure-all just down the road doesn’t mean that I’m about to let you keep a fever,” Isabela informed her firmly, stating her terms of service. Mirabel almost pouted, gauging the entire situation for a moment.

  However, endearingly, she seemed to decide that being close to Isabela and her not leaving was more valuable than being stubborn about the blankets and Isabela heading off to town immediately. She scooted out from under the blankets, instantly gritting her teeth and shivering all over, and Isabela opened her arms to bring her close and offer her at least a little warmth.

  Mirabel wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity, and she moved in close, sinking into the oldest sibling as she let Isabela just wrap her arms around her and engulf her as well as she could. Isabela smiled gently before frowning a little at the realization of how hot that Mirabel’s forehead felt. She made a mental note to sneak away and at least fetch a washcloth for Mirabel even if she could not quite manage to get away long enough to leave for some of their mother’s food.

  Isabela let out a gentle breath, her cheekbone grazing the side of Mirabel’s head as she moved in closer.

  “Here, just rest,” Isabela whispered to her gently, and Mirabel sunk down heavily into her, her glasses riding up her face somewhat. Isabela huffed just a tiny bit, reaching her hand up and gingerly plucking them from Mirabel’s face as she placed them on the bed a little ways away.

  Mirabel sighed tiredly, coughing a little, and Isabela smiled gently, unable to help feeling a soft warmth in her chest in response to the younger girl’s affection.

  Even if Mirabel was sick, Isabela could not deny that she did appreciate the excuse to hold her close.

  She just wished she could usually do these things unprompted without potentially making Mirabel uncomfortable.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      Mirabel woke up at last, but she did not bother opening her eyes, feeling Isabela’s ministrations as she remained softly giving her attentions. Mirabel must have sunken down in Isabela’s embrace and somehow ended up lying there with her head in her lap. However, with how Isabela was stroking her face and cheeks, she could not find it in herself to mind too much.

  After all, it was affection that Mirabel had not experienced from Isabela often during her waking hours, so the last thing that she wanted to do was stop her older sister from fulfilling her need for touch that she so desperately thrived off of when it was from Isabela.

  The truth was that Mirabel was exceedingly touch-starved when it came to Isabela. Therefore, as a result, she was always more than excited when Isabela actually gave her that touch.

  However, just as she was finally about to give up the charade, Isabela surprised her with the sound of her voice speaking up in a very quiet song.

  “Why… are there so many… songs about rainbows?” Isabela suddenly started. Mirabel resisted the urge to furrow her brow from the shock as she took in the soft sound of her big sister’s voice. She almost opened her eyes as well, but she quickly exercised restraint, not wanting to stop Isabela. She simply did not utter a word as she remained dead silent, ensuring that she did not disrupt this almost magical moment.

  “And what’s on the other side?” Isabela sang gently, her voice softly lilting along in the most careful of songs.

  Mirabel remained nestled close to her, her mind utterly blown as she realized that her big sister must have thought that she was asleep.

  The truth was that Mirabel had never heard Isabela’s voice like this. It was so gentle and so painstakingly soft. It comforted her deeply, and she honestly thought that she could just lay here forever and listen to it.

  “Rainbows are visions… But only illusions… And rainbows have nothing to hide,” Isabela trailed off for a moment, her voice so utterly soothing that Mirabel felt as if she might actually fall asleep for real this time. However, her enrapturement with Isabela’s voice was far too strong for her to miss the heavenly sound.

  “So we’ve been told, and we choose to believe it… Some… I know they’re wrong wait and see,” Isabela’s song continued on despite the small blunder that she had in the midst of attempting to remember the words, and Mirabel could not help but think that even that small imperfection was sheer perfection in itself. Isabela somehow managed to pull it off and make it sound like it was actually a part of the song.

  Something about the entire experience felt surreal. Isabela’s soft song, regardless of what it was even about, was everything to her because it was something that she felt like was only for her to hear.

  She knew that Dolores could likely hear it as well, but some selfish part of her wanted to hoard the entire experience for herself. This was her big sister and her song, and the fact that Isabela was being so soft and gentle with her was honestly just something that she wanted to stow away forever.

  She knew that she had to share Isabela with Luisa, but sometimes, at least since they had overcome their differences, Mirabel truly treasured the moments that it could just be her and Isabela.

  It was not that she loved Isabela more than Luisa, but it was just that all those years, Luisa was someone easily accessible to her and someone that was actually on her side. Now that she had the opportunity to get to know her oldest sister and someone that she looked up to so, so much alongside Luisa, she wanted to catch up on everything she had missed.

  And lying here with her head in Isabela’s lap with her singing above her was a personal heaven in Mirabel’s genuine and honest opinion.

  She just hated that she had to be sick to experience it.

  “Someday we’ll find it… the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers, and me,” Isabela trilled, her hand ever so carefully reaching and brushing through Mirabel’s hair. Her hands were painstakingly soft in their touch, and she ran her fingers through the thick mess of hair, her nails scratching ever so slightly.

  It took everything in Mirabel not to hum in pure happiness. However, the one thing that she could not help was the little shiver that went through her at the sensation.

  Isabela paused momentarily, and Mirabel remained frozen as well for a short minute.

  Mirabel very hesitantly opened her eyes, knowing that she had been caught. Isabela tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her gaze as she shifted her eyes to the side and picked up a washcloth nearby that Mirabel assumed she must have gotten while she was asleep, dabbing Mirabel’s forehead as if she had not just been singing like an angel.

  “Feeling any better?” Isabela questioned, her voice remarkably steady considering the fact that she would hardly meet Mirabel’s eyes for longer than a millisecond. She was quite obviously pretending that nothing had happened and that Mirabel had actually been asleep during her song.

  Mirabel swallowed, noting the presence of her sore throat as she slowly took account of the remainder of her symptoms. However, she did not really feel too cold anymore.

  “Throat still hurts… I think the fever’s broken, though,” Mirabel admitted, and Isabela nodded with a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

  “Yeah, I noticed you broke a sweat,” Isabela replied easily, and Mirabel was quiet for a moment, letting Isabela focus almost entirely on her task at hand.

  However, Mirabel finally managed to catch Isabela’s gaze, and the older girl paused for just a moment, their eyes locking. Mirabel smiled gently.

  “You sing pretty,” she complimented, and Isabela was frozen for a second before she finally huffed somewhat dismissively. Isabela moved the cloth to the side, placing it on the bed where it had been laying a few moments ago as she shrugged.

  “You’ve heard me sing before,” Isabela pointed out astutely, and Mirabel let out a soft, somewhat forceful exhale that was almost a chuckle. However, it set off a few coughs, and Isabela was quick to touch her shoulder gently, her thumb stroking Mirabel’s skin just barely. Mirabel could not help her grin.

  “Maybe so, but I just… I don’t know. This time was just really pretty,” Mirabel complimented, somewhat losing focus as the fogginess of her head was slowly seeping back in more heavily.

  “Are you saying I don’t sing pretty usually?” Isabela deadpanned, and despite the fact that Mirabel knew she was just messing with her, she quickly tried to remedy her statement. Her sickness was affecting her thought process a little.

  “No! I was just saying that was really pretty. Not that all the other times weren’t. I just—”

  “Mariposa, it’s okay. I’m messing with you,” Isabela assured her with a soft chuckle, and Mirabel let out a sigh of relief.

  Isabela was terrible for messing with her while she was down, but alas, that was the way that she rolled. It was also simply the nature of their relationship. They loved to mess with each other. And it was okay as long as they did not step on any toes or strike any nerves amongst them.

  “Picking on me while I’m down, huh?” Mirabel could not help but gripe lightly, voicing her thoughts aloud.

  “Why not? It’s when it’s easiest,” Isabela breezily replied, and Mirabel rolled her eyes a little, looking up at Isabela from where her head was relaxed in her lap.

  “Thank you for staying,” Mirabel expressed finally, and Isabela just furrowed her brow, lightly patting Mirabel’s cheek as she gazed down at her with some reprimand.

  “Don’t thank me. I’m your big sister. It’s what I’m supposed to do,” Isabela assured her, a gentle smile on her face, and Mirabel grinned a little, enjoying the feeling of Isabela just giving her all the soft touches and affection that she had been craving from her for so long.

  She did not enjoy being sick, but if it meant getting this sort of attention from Isabela, she would gladly do her time. She just wished that it was not all going to come to an end when she got better.

  But nevertheless, she closed her eyes once again and just chose to forget about the future, basking in the heavenliness of the now.

  “You going to let me go to town and get you some of Mamá’s food now?” Isabela questioned, but the tone of her voice gave away the fact that she knew the precise answer to her inquiry already. Mirabel shook her head with a soft laugh.

  “Nope.”