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astragreenwoode · 1 year ago

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The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Three

Previous: Chapter Two • Next: Chapter Four • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit(18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-specified Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Hypersexuality, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hearing Voices

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Three: People Are Strange

Word Count: 11,042

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Hypersexual Thoughts, Anxiety, Sexual Themes and Implied Smut, Explicit Language, Humiliation

Chapter Summary: Maeven recalls the last time she was so nervous to be at a new school, and how her father helped her through it. During the school tour, she meets two of her new classmates and catches glimpses of other friends she may make along the way. But whether or not she adjusts well to Hawkins High all depends on her. . .and Billy, of course.

September 1974

The last time I was so nervous about being at a new school, I was about to turn eight years old. Before San Diego, we lived in a small-ish rural community in southern Oregon. After getting married, Mom and Dad decided they needed a break from California, and moved to a place where their children could enjoy life without the world spoiling them.

Our home was five miles outside of town on a dirt and gravel road, in a field surrounded by a ring of trees. The trees made a dome around the edge of our property, covering the front yard and the front of our house in a veil of shade that faced east. The sun shined on the other half of our property, warming up the grass like a heated blanket. The stone path from our back porch led into the wildwood, turning into a small bridge that stood over the creek.

I spent my early days exploring the seemingly infinite woods and warming myself on the grass as I stared up at the tall trees and blue skies; Max was so little then, and Thunder was still alive. He was our family’s big malamute mix they adopted before we were born.

We lived on the edge of one of the Pacific Northwest’s many lush and green forests. Since no one officially owned it and our closest neighbor was two miles away, I liked to imagine it was mine. It was where I discovered my lifelong passion for everything wild when I found friendship with a soft-natured raccoon. I’d later come to make friends with possums, a fox family, and a quiet doe with her fawn. It was comfortable there; cozy in the colder months, and cooler during the warmer months. While it wasn’t perfect, we were happy there. But as Max and I grew, it seemed to become smaller and more crowded.

Eventually, Mom and Dad grew homesick for California and decided to move us back to San Diego permanently. Until then, we had only ever taken long road trips there and back again every Spring and Summer break. Moving transferred our parents’ homesickness onto Max and me. She was as upset by the move as I was, but was more excited; she thought of it as a new adventure.

The day Dad waited with us at the bus stop for our first day at a new school, I was petrified. Max was jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk as I gripped the straps of my backpack and stared down at my feet. That morning, I clung to my mom as I begged her to let me stay home, but she forced me to dry my tears or else she’d be late for her first day back at her old hospital.

Dad surprised us that morning. As I was about to get on the bus with Max’s hand in mine and the bus driver trying to hurry us along, Dad tugged us toward him.

“You know what? I’ll drive you girls today. It’s a special day.”

I was hoping he would just take us straight back home; well, to our new house. I didn’t consider it home, yet. What he ended up doing that day was much better than I expected, teaching me an important lesson I still rely on today.

He drove us to our new school in his jet-black Impala; he bought it the year I was born. Max was in her car seat in the back kicking her feet to the sound of She Loves You by the Beatles on the stereo. It was her favorite. Mine was Blackbird. I loved riding in that car

As we drove up to the building of the elementary school, I curled myself into a ball and sunk deeper into my seat.

“C’mon, Mae-Mae, we gotta go. You don’t wanna be late for your first day,” my Dad sighed, putting his hand on my knee and giving it a gentle shake. I tightened my arms around my knees.

“I’m not going,” I mumbled through my curled limbs.

“It’s not a choice, Spitfire.”

“I’M NOT GOING!” I exploded, uncurling myself and staring daggers at my Dad with tears in my eyes. He was taken aback a little by my sudden outburst but still kept his cool. But when I heard Max start to sniffle at the sudden loudness, I climbed up on the seat and held her little hand. I knew if she started to cry, I wouldn’t be able to get my tears to stop falling.

“No, no, Maxy, don’t cry! I’m sorry!” I whimpered, trying to keep myself composed as I closed my eyes to hold in my tears. After I took a few deep breaths, I heard Max’s cries cease as she started back up with giggles. I opened my eyes to see Dad waving Max’s stuffed rabbit, Flopsy in her face. She had just dropped it. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.

After returning Flopsy to her, Dad turned back to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“I know this is hard for you, Maeven. I really do. I didn’t want to, either, but we had to,” he tried to explain, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“No, we didn’t,” I whined, tilting my head up to the roof of the Impala.

“We did. It might not feel like it, but we did,” he responded. I turned my back and brought my knees up to my chest as my feet rested on the leather seats. It was something I knew he would prefer I not do. But he didn’t say anything.

We sat in silence for what seemed like hours when in reality, it was probably only five minutes or so. The world moved on outside the car, the parking lot alive with parents and kids of all kinds walking in and out of the building. It helped that Dad just let us sit there and let me soak up the environment instead of just pushing me straight in.

“Do you remember when I first read you Watership Down?” he asked suddenly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. I didn’t understand why he asked that at first, but it was nice to have a distraction from the growing anxiety in my stomach brought on by my fear of change.

“Yeah? What about it?”

Watership Down was one of my favorite books. Mom and Dad took turns reading it to me when I was smaller; a chapter a night. Before that book, I never saw rabbits as exciting creatures. I loved them as much as all the animals I had come to love and study in books, zoos, and in the forest behind our old house. They were never as interesting as the others until Richard Adams turned them into something different.

“Do you remember what you first felt when the rabbits left their warren?” he followed up. I read and re-read that book so many times that I knew it by heart now. I had to think for a minute.

“I was excited. I knew they’d go on to have some fun adventures,” I said. Dad nodded his head at my enthusiasm.

“Yeah. And they did, didn’t they? But why did they leave?”

I had to think about it for a moment again.

“Because they were in danger?”

“Exactly. They left because they had to,” he explained, and I finally started to understand what he was trying to say.

“Are we in danger?” I asked, my shoulders tensing as I frantically looked around the parking lot.

“No, no, Spitfire,” he reassuringly laughed, stroking the back of my head. “It wasn’t dangerous back at our old house. You’re safe. I promise.”

“Then why? Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course, you didn’t, Maeven. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s just that. . .things just happen, sometimes. Unexpected things you didn’t prepare for, and the best and only way you can make things better is to change.”

I stayed quiet a little bit longer, my shoulders now relaxing. Dad gave me as much time as I needed to reply.

“But that’s sad,” I whined.

“It can be sad. And that’s okay. Do you remember when you were so upset that you couldn’t wear your favorite coat anymore when you played in the snow?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but what did we do that day? I took you to get a new one, and you ended up liking that even better.”

I nodded my head. I did love that coat. It was a deep vibrant shade of purple with snowflakes along the trim. And of course, I missed my old one. I had a good reason to; it was rainbow striped. But Mom gave me striped rainbow leggings for Christmas I could wear instead. Everything worked out in the end, even if I didn’t feel like it would.

“The point is, Maeven,” Dad continued. “nothing can always stay the same. And when the rabbits had to fight the general, weren’t you scared?”

I was scared for them. I was afraid of what would happen to their warren; their new home they fought so hard to find and make their own. I wanted everything to be alright.

“Mmm-hmm. . .”

“Hazel, Fiver, Bigwig, and Holly were scared, too. But what happened?”

Even though they were scared of what Efrafa would do to them if they lost, they did it, anyway. They were brave.

“They did it anyway?”

After so many hardships, the rabbits of Watership Down were fine. “Be cunning and full of tricks, and your people will never be destroyed,” the book's words echoed in my head.

“Exactly. And when they did, they ended up happier, safer, and stronger than they were in Sandelford, weren’t they?”

“Mmm-hmm! They adaptated!” I mispronounced.

“It’s adapted, Maeven,” Dad laughed, fluffing up my hair.

“Oh, okay. Adapted,” I corrected myself.

Going to a new school didn’t seem so frightening, anymore. If rabbits were smart and stubborn enough to dig themselves out of every bad situation, I would be fine.

“You are an animal, Maeven. You’re smart and strong, and wherever you go, I know you’ll adapt. You’re gonna do great in there. I just know it.”

. . .

Billy turned the radio on at full blast for the remainder of the ride, filling the awkward silence with the thrashing of Motley Crue. Maeven kept bouncing her leg and tried not to let the volume bother her. Snapping the rubber band against her wrist helped keep her calm, even if it hurt a little.

Maeven caught a quick glimpse of the campus the other day when Billy picked up her and Max from the arcade. The school was a lot less intimidating when looking at it up close. It was underwhelming compared to what Maeven and Billy were used to, but she saw that as a good thing. It meant there weren’t as many people, so maybe she wouldn’t be as nervous when caught in the crowds. Unfortunately, it also meant she would be noticed in a small school where everyone knew everyone, and word probably spread faster in the rumor mill than back in California.

“They’re gonna find out, somehow,” the voice taunted. “And when they do, you’ll be dead. You never even had a chance, Not here, not anywhere. Just run away.”

“No! Shut up! Just shut the hell up!” Maeven yelled, not hesitating to slap herself in the face. But as soon as Billy caught her wrist to stop her from harming herself again, she remembered that she wasn’t alone, and suddenly realized they were parked in the parking lot now.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just. . .”

“The voices?”

“Yeah. . .”

“It’s okay. Just ignore them and they’ll go away.”

“Easier said than done,” Maeven said to herself.

The look in Billy’s eyes broke her heart. It had been a while since she snapped like that.

The campus was most definitely smaller than Newport’s. It was more similar to the size of the Junior High she and Max attended back in California. The Junior and Senior Highs were in separate buildings, spread out amongst the campus with a few disconnected buildings where they probably had extracurriculars and clubs. Maybe the auditorium was there, too. It would be easier to navigate once they were done with the tour. And Maeven liked that she could keep an eye on Max.

Max and Susan got out of Neil’s station wagon before he drove off, as he had to finish last-minute transfer paperwork before he started his new gig at the bank. As Maeven and Billy stepped out of his Camaro, he stood close to her with his hand on the small of her back. It was something that usually kept her calm, but he did so in a way so that no one in their family would notice.

“You’re gonna be fine, okay? Just keep your head down, and don’t give anyone a reason to stare at you.”

Again; easier said than done.

Maeven just nodded, lingering on the comforting feeling even after he pulled his hand away from her back. She tightened the straps of her backpack onto her shoulders, thinking how she probably looked like a total geek right now bringing her backpack to school when she hadn’t even started classes, yet.

Walking to the front office of the high school was oddly refreshing to her. She had always liked being in school. She loved learning and the feeling the environment gave her. Maeven just wasn’t always a fan of the people who inhabited them; especially when they were teenagers.

As they walked up to the front desk, Susan took the initiative and leaned on the front counter as she waited for the secretary to notice her.

“Hi, there! Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Susan Hargrove. My kids are starting here tomorrow and-”

“Not your kid, Susan,” Billy interrupted, making sure to sound as stern as possible. It caught Susan off-guard as she flinched and turned to him, giving a timid smile. It was a little scary to Maeven and Max how much he sounded like his father at that moment.

“Of course. My daughters and stepson are starting here tomorrow and we were told we’d be given a tour of campus,” she elaborated to the secretary.

“Oh, yes! Give me just a minute,” she said, turning to her phone.

Maeven clasped her hands in front of her as she swung her hips slightly to make her long skirt twirl. Max crossed her arms and tapped her fingers.

“Sir. Mrs. Hargrove and her kids are here to see you.”

Maeven could tell by the look on Billy’s face that he wanted to correct his relation to the Mayfields again. She knew why; he was still bitter about his mother, and she didn’t blame him. As much as he hated her for leaving him the way she did, she was still his mom. He would always miss and love her. He was determined not to let Susan take her place.

The sisters tapped their feet in annoyance. How well did these phones work? How talkative was this principal that he made his secretary stay on the line for so long?

“Mmmhmm. Alright. You can head on in, Down the hall, last door on the right,” she finally replied, hanging up the phone. Max let out a sigh that said ‘finally!’ Maeven wasn’t as vocal, but she felt the same.

“Thank you.”

Susan took the lead as they followed the secretary’s directions, knocking on the door before entering. Maeven took a look at the plaque by the door; Principal John Higgins. She knew a kid with that last name once. He looked like a principal, as if he was born to be one. She was curious to see what kind he was; an uncaring hardass with a god complex or a decent person who actually saw his students as people.

“You must be Susan. Principal Higgins. We spoke on the phone last week?” He reached out to shake her hand.

“Billy.”

“Yes, hi. Nice to meet you.” she smiled widely as she accepted it.

“And this must be Margaret, William, and Maxine?” he guessed.

“Maeven.”

“Max.”

They all corrected in unison.

“Of course. My apologies. Please, have a seat.” He was a bit overwhelmed but pretended not to be as he gestured to the chairs and couch by his desk. Susan and Billy sat in the office chairs while the sisters sat on the black and yellow checkered couch. Maeven pawed at the backpack in her lap, bouncing her leg and scratching her hands.

“I’m sure you won’t find this school any different than your last one,” Higgins said, pulling out three separate manilla folders. “But, it might not be what you’re quite used to all the way down in sunny California.”

“It’s definitely a lot smaller,” Susan laughed, putting on her smile as Billy rolled his eyes. He leaned back in the chair, his legs spread wide as if he owned the place. His sudden attempt at displaying his brawn made Higgins clear his throat.

“So, Billy. From your transcript, I can see you’re the average student and have some trouble with authority. But it seems that in California, you were quite the star athlete.”

“Yes, sir,” he smiled.”Quarterback, Designated Hitter, and Power Forward.”

Maeven had experienced attraction to all kinds of people, no matter their clique. She had gone on dates with jocks before, even if she found most of them to be jerks. But Billy stood out. It bugged her that she could never the exact reason why.

“Perfect, son. Sports are an important part of the culture here, so I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” Higgins said, closing the file before opening another, turning his head to the younger of the Mayfield sisters.

“And, Max. I can see you’re also an average student. But you do seem to be exceptional when it comes to math. We have clubs and tutoring programs where I’m sure you’ll be welcome. Been in trouble a few times, but nothing too extreme. I know starting a new school at your age can be scary and frustrating. Am I going to have any trouble with you?”

Max blew her hair out of her face, her arms still crossed. She had never been one for clubs, but who knows? Maybe that would change at Hawkins

“As long as no one else here dumps their crap on me, I’ll be good.”

“Max!” her mother scolded her. Billy and Maeven chuckled as she gave her little sister a playful slap on the arm.

“No worries, Mrs. Hargrove. I’ve heard worse. I’ll take that as a ‘no.’” Higgins laughed.

Maeven’s file came last, which made her heartbeat quicken a little. She knew he wouldn’t be as lighthearted and upbeat as he was with Billy and Max.

“I understand there are some matters you and Margaret wish to inform me about privately,” he said. All eyes in the room were now turned to Maeven as she squeezed her backpack. She hated when that happened; it fueled the fire of paranoia in her.

“Yes, sir,” Susan answered for her daughter once she recognized she wouldn’t speak for herself.

“Billy, Max, why don’t you two go wait outside?” Higgins turned to them. “This shouldn’t take long. Doris should have your class schedules ready for you.”

Max gave her big sister a calming squeeze on her hand. Billy shot her an encouraging nod of his head and a wink of his baby blue eyes that made her stomach flutter and thighs squeeze together instinctively. As they left the room, Maeven switched herself over to the chair Billy previously occupied.

“Now, Mar-Sorry, Maeven. I understand that you’re a repeating junior. From what your mother tells me, you had sort of a tough time last year.”

Susan turned to her daughter when she didn’t answer Principal Higgins. Maeven kept bouncing her leg as she scratched the back of her hand with her nails until the skin was red. She hated when she did that; mainly because it came off as rude to those unaware of her. . .condition. It also broke her heart to see her little girl hurt herself, especially when it would bleed and scab. Susan reached her hands out to her daughter, one steadying her leg while the other rested atop her hands to stop her scratching.

“Sorry. She’s a little shy,” she apologized, bringing Maeven out of her self-induced trance.

“Yes, sir. I am. I mean. . .I did,” Maeven softly said.

“That’s certainly not a problem,” he stated, looking over her file. “I called Newport High last week and spoke with a few of your teachers. They all said you were a pleasure to have in class and your test scores are. . .intimidating. But they said that around the second semester, you sort of. . .lost your way?”

It was nice to hear that the staff back at her old school still thought about her that way. Although, Maeven wouldn’t blame them if they happened to feel anything negative toward her. Her decline in the social and academic hierarchy and eventual expulsion weren’t exactly a pretty sight to witness.

“Yeah. . .that sounds fair,” she replied.

“I can understand that,” Higgins said, seemingly empathizing with her. It was oddly refreshing. “We have a few other kids here who’ve had to repeat grades due to their struggles in life. I see you have a history of fighting and skipping classes, and that you’ve dealt with emotional problems in the past.”

Before Maeven could say anything, her mother interjected.

“She has, yes, but she is doing much better, sir. We’re hoping a change of scenery will help with that.”

Susan and Higgins didn’t need to pry further, as Maeven knew what they were talking about. She hated when her mother did that, refusing to talk about her daughter’s past of pain as if it was more devastating for her.

“Slap her, Maeven. You know you want to,” the voice instructed, but Maeven just shook it off, literally; her head and body twitched almost as if she was seizing before stilling itself. She gave her mom a reassuring nod before turning her attention back to Higgins.

“I’m not looking to cause any trouble here, sir. I plan to stay focused on my grades this time around. I promise,” she smiled, trying her best to imitate the one her mother used.

“That’s good to hear. You seem to have been an over-achiever back at Newport, so we have more than a couple of clubs that’ll keep you out of trouble. We have a science fair in the spring, and from what your teachers told me, you’ll win first prize. Of course, I still expect you to meet with the school Counselor, Miss Kelly, once a week.”

“Yeah. I’m good with that,” Maeven nodded.

“That’s what I like to hear. Lastly, you’ll be needing accommodations due to your. . .condition?”

Once again, Maeven could tell exactly what he was referring to. It wasn’t that much of a surprise that a middle-aged white principal didn’t want to speak so openly to one of his students about how painfully crippling her periods had become these last nine months. And, of course, her brain condition wasn’t exactly easy for those outside a doctor’s office to comprehend.

“Yes, I do. Is that okay?”

“I’m not able to provide them all, but I can help you with most of them,” he stated, handing Maeven a laminated Hawkins High hall pass with her name at the top and his signature at the bottom.

“Here’s a hall pass for your classes when you’re. I put down a note so that all your teachers will allow you to take tests under the supervision of the school librarian. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you an all-access hall pass; too much opportunity for it to be abused. I’m sure you’re a good kid, but I just can’t afford to take the risk.”

Again, she wasn’t surprised at this. Maeven figured she wouldn’t get an all-access pass for when her brain decided to shut down or go full panic mode out of the blue. Her father’s motto was always ‘ It never hurts to ask.’ Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for people to understand someday, but not today. She had no choice but to power through.

“It’s alright. Completely understandable,” she lied.

Principal Higgins closed her file before getting up from his desk to put it in a random drawer. When he led Susan and Maeven out to the front office, Max and Billy were chatting with three other students.

“Oh, good! I see you’ve already met,” he announced himself. The kids all stood up from the benches and chairs, turning themselves towards him. Maeven shrugged her backpack over her shoulder as she stood between Max and Billy. She gave her little sister a pat on the back that she instinctually returned.

“I thought it’d be helpful for you guys to meet a couple of your classmates before tomorrow. They’ll be giving you a tour,” Higgins spoke.

Maeven bit her lip. When she pictured the day as she woke up that morning, she didn’t anticipate meeting other kids face to face immediately. She figured there might be students around campus, but didn’t plan on meeting any new kids her age until tomorrow. She didn’t prepare for this, and Maeven dreaded being unprepared.

The mismatched siblings stood in a row of three facing their future classmates in the same formation.

“Billy, Maeven, this is Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. And Max, this is Jennifer Hayes. Guys, this is Billy Hargrove and Maeven and Max Mayfield.”

Maeven took them in one by one, sizing them up.

Jennifer looked and seemed friendly enough. She seemed like the classic social butterfly; a good girl who surrounded herself with as many people as possible. However, those kinds of people, more often than not, were more shallow than they liked to admit. Maeven had experienced that first-hand in Middle School. Besides, she seemed too girly to be a friend of her baby sister.

“Hi,” she waved at Max.

“She seems boring. Basic. Max definitely won’t get along with her,” the voice whispered. Maeven looked down before rolling her eyes, not wanting to draw attention to herself before her eyes met Nancy’s.

Nancy had a similar vibe to Jennifer with a few key differences. Unlike the middle schooler, she seemed more like the type of girl who had a small inner circle of close friends. She dressed like a scholar, like the model student of an exclusive all-girls boarding school. Nancy was also classically pretty; big doe eyes with dark hair that framed her head like a crown. She reminded Maeven of her friend, Madeleine.

“. . .hi,” she squeaked out, eyes wide. She looked like she saw a ghost.

“She knows how crazy you are. Look at her, she’s terrified.”

“How could she know?” she vocalized in her head, trying her best not to let her paranoia get the better of her. There was no way this absolute stranger could know of her instability.

“People have their ways. You never know.”

Finally, Maeven’s eyes landed on Steve.

“Hey,” he muttered, pushing his soft, chestnut hair back innocently. Meanwhile, Maeven fought to keep her body cool.

“Oh, my fuck, he’s cute,” the voice expressed. For once, it said something she could agree with.

Steve Harrington was almost so pretty that it hurt. He had the same cocky and suave charm that attracted her to Billy in the first place. He was also about the same height as Billy, and Maeven could tell just by the way he carried himself that he was a jock. Unlike the other jocks she met, his charisma seemed to stem from a place of kindness.

"He's checking you out,” the voice teased in her ear, sending a shiver down Maeven’s spine and filling her with that familiar sense of warm longing.“You should take him and Billy to the janitor's closet so they can fuck you.”

"What!? No! What is wrong with you!?"

"He'll like you more if you let him use you."

"Be fucking quiet!" she internally yelled, silencing it. Maeven hid her hands in the sleeves of her sweater as she held them together, one gripping the cuff while the other scratched the top of it. She held in her anxiety, giving the others a soft, shy smile.

“Why don’t you guys take your tours and we’ll meet back here in a half hour?” Higgins asked. Everyone nodded as the students walked out of the office and into the hall. One way led outside to the Middle School, while the other led down to the rest of the High School halls.

“See you in a bit, squirt,” Billy laughed at Max, reaching up to give her a condescending pat on the head. Max slapped his hand away as she pointed at her sister.

“Hey, only she gets to call me that,” she warned, as threateningly as a small middle schooler could be.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, turning his nose up before following Maeven and the others.

. . .

Everything was less intimidating once Maeven got a closer look as they walked around. The campus seemed well taken care of despite its age. Newport had a more mid-century modern style, all neat and smooth with underwhelming geometric themes. It felt more like a fancy museum than a school. Hawkins High was different. It was charming. Maeven could feel the history built into every cracked brick or tile and dented locker. The halls were lined with character.

The group of teens walked stiffly down the hallways of the high school, relaxing their posture when the principal and Mrs. Hargrove were no longer in their sight or within hearing range. This Steve Harrington guy was the one who finally broke the silence.

“So, Higgins said that you guys are from California?” he asked, turning to Maeven and Billy.

“Mmm-hmm,” Billy mumbled. It was clear to Maeven that he was still feeling out Steve’s vibe. He seemed nice enough, possibly another athlete like Billy; they shared body types, both having defined muscles and the classic upside-down Dorito figures. Steve was maybe just an inch shorter than Billy, though.

“Is it nice down there?” he followed up.

“Definitely better than here,” he scoffed, eyes off of Steve like he didn’t even exist to him. Billy wasn’t willing to be too friendly with him. It wasn’t often that he connected with someone right away, and Harrington was no different than the others. The only person he had that naturally and quickly ignited the chemistry between them was Maeven

“Super. . .” Steve uncomfortably droned out.

Maeven’s eyes focused on Nancy, who still looked at her as if she was face-to-face with someone she shouldn’t be. She wondered what it was about her that gave her such a fright. Was it the way she dressed? The way she carried herself? Maybe it was the way she fidgeted with her hands. How she twirled the loose threads of her sweater around her fingers? Maybe she just generally gave off an unsettling vibe. She couldn’t tell, anymore.

“You’re scaring her, you know? You’re being so quiet and you keep looking at her. She probably thinks you’re a secret serial killer,”

“But I’m not a-”

“Not yet, you’re not. But you could still become one. You have all the qualifications; insane, suicidal, anger issues, unhealthy obsessions with blood, and sex. Not to mention you already have one vict-. . .”

Maeven tore her eyes away from Nancy, instead choosing to focus on the dents in the lockers and the green and orange stripes on the wall. Her sudden change in perspective cut off her inner monster. She couldn’t tell if she looked elsewhere out of respect for Nancy’s comfort, or if it was so she wouldn’t see the tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. She would not break down in front of these new people, she decided.

Nancy clapped her hands together with enthusiasm as the group stopped at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“So!” she broke the awkward silence, gently taking hold of Steve’s wrist before dragging him along with her. “Uhmm, obviously this is the cafeteria,” she said, using her other hand to gesture around her like the lady on Wheel of Fortune.

The cafeteria was probably just a little smaller than the one at Newport. Obviously, there were a lot less students here. It also had a lot more windows and natural lighting with a door that swung lead out to more lunch tables. There was also a stage against the wall at the far end of it, which Maeven assumed was where the theatre department was. Newport had its auditorium for plays, recitals, and school debates, but Maeven liked how humble Hawkins High was turning out to be so far.

What appeared to be the school’s group of Band Kids gathered on the stage and the surrounding lunch tables. Some were tuning and practicing their instruments, while others were simply chatting and taking a break. The gold and white tassels on the green uniforms caught Maevens eye, especially when they were worn by the cute dark-blonde, almost red-haired girl with dusted freckles and dark blue eyes. She let out a laugh that seemed contagious. Maeven was suddenly reminded of a girl she played seven minutes in Heaven with at a party during her freshman year. She turned away once she realized she was staring back, pointing her head down as her face tinted pink.

“Those are our band kids over there, gearing up for homecoming,” Nancy continued, gesturing around her as Billy and Maeven followed her and Steve. “If you guys want a good seat, I would plan on getting here as early as possible. Also because the earlier you get here, the better chance you have of your food being edible.”

“Noted,” Billy nodded.

School lunches and their edibility varied from school to school, district to district. Maeven was planning on bringing her lunch, anyways. Maybe she’d try it one day once she was more comfortable.

“That’s also the stage where they put on plays and musicals,” Steve pointed out as they walked back into the hallway. “It hasn’t been announced yet what the winter play will be, but we actually have normal theatre kids here if you can believe it. They were really annoying when we were in middle school, but. . .I guess they grew out of that?”

Steve Harrington didn’t seem like a theatre kid, but he had the energy of one.

Maeven eyed the way Nancy and Steve held hands and stayed close to each other as the group walked down the hallway. They did look pretty cute together, she couldn’t deny that. But they seemed too much like a cliche. Then again, who was Maeven to judge them? She was probably the farthest thing from a cliche one could ever be. Still, there seemed to be more than meets the eye in their relationship; Maeven couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but she knew it was there.

Steve opened the right of the double wooden doors that lead into the school gym. Again, it was smaller than the one Maeven was used to back in California. But it had its charm. There were a group of guys on the far side shooting hoops and practicing dribbling with each other. On the other side was a group of cheerleaders stretching their muscles and practicing their routine.

Maeven didn’t mind seeing the basketball team and their muscles sweating with activity, and she absolutely didn’t mind seeing the cheer squad in their short twirling skirts as they practiced. She was particularly intrigued by the cheerleader with strawberry blonde hair in a high ponytail and a smile that could light up a room of depressed people. She looked like a Barbie doll come to life. The way she seemed to put her whole spirit into the routine made it more like watching a ballet show; it was mesmerizing. Maeven found herself fantasizing that if she met her while in inpatient treatment, she probably would’ve recovered faster.

“This is the gym,” Steve said. “We hold all our gym classes, practices, pep rallies, and basketball games here. We have football and baseball, too, but they’re not as popular.”

“So basketball is your official religion around here. Got it,” Maeven spoke up with a soft giggle at the end. Steve and Nancy turned to smile at her. When she wondered why, she realized this was the first time she uttered a word since the tour began.

Steve seemed to be the most taken aback at the sound of Maeven’s voice, laughing at her joke. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Do, uhm. . .do either of you play?” he asked, gesturing to Maeven and Billy.

“Uh-uh,” Maeven shook her head.

“Yeah. I’ve played before,” Billy mentioned, shrugging his shoulders. Like a lot of boys his age, he channeled all his energy and unchecked rage and aggression into playing High School sports. Despite wearing the stereotypical jock persona, he was also a metalhead. He and Maeven spent their first few weeks together doing nothing but getting high in his Camaro and thrashing along to the radio in an attempt to vent their shared frustration.

Maeven eyed the logo with the school mascot on the wall; Go Hawkins Tigers! It was a bit faded, maybe needing a fresh coat of paint. She wondered if maybe they’d let her paint a mural for the school as she did at Newport. She would ask them later. . .maybe.

“It’s kind of a missed opportunity that they’re the Hawkins High Tigers and not the Hawkins High Hawks,” the voice in her head laughed. Maeven chuckled at the joke she told herself. It was rare that she and her inner voice agreed with each other. When they did work together, it was usually to both their benefit.

“It’s kinda-

“You any good at it?” Steve said, accidentally cutting Maeven off.

“Compared to those little pussies, yeah,” Billy scoffed as he pointed toward the basketball team. It was clear that a few of them were new at this, missing hoops, tripping on their own feet, and losing the rhythm of their dribbles.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” Steve apologized, turning back to Maeven.

“Say something, Maeven. They’re all looking at you.” the voice whispered, spiking Maeven’s heart rate and making her palms clam up.

“No, it’s fine,” she stated, shaking her head to brush off the nervousness. “I was. . .I don’t even remember what I was gonna say,” she laughed, trying to trick herself into thinking so.

“Yeah, she’s a little forgetful, aren’t ya Mae-Mae?” Billy laughed, tussling her hair before sneakily moving his hand down to cup the small of her back again where no one would notice.

“Yeah. . .sorry. . .”

Both Steve and Nancy looked at each other before turning back to Maeven, confused at her apology.

“What? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Nancy laughed, reassuringly touching Maeven’s arm,

“You apologized when you didn’t need to again, you stupid bitch.”

. . .

Before Billy could even think about challenging the basketball kids in the gym, Steve and Nancy moved the tour forward. Maeven had her sketchpad and a gel pen in her hand, mapping out the school as the group continued walking. Gel pens were her preferred writing tool, as she loved the sensation in her hands when she conducted the ink. She made sure to include all the turns in the hallways and possible shortcuts, including all the exits in case she ever found herself in a situation when and where she needed to haul ass out of there. Maeven always needed a plan to protect herself in case things went wrong again, in case she got bad again.

Steve and Billy walked side by side as Maeven and Nancy were a few feet behind them. The boys walked in an awkward conversation as Billy kept pushing Steve’s buttons; it was one of his favorite pastimes. Although Maeven was too focused on the school and her developing map to hear exactly what they talked about, she could only guess that Billy took charge of the discussion like he always did.

“I um. . .I thought your name was Margaret?”

Nancy’s sudden question caused Maeven’s hand to jerk slightly and mess up a line on her map. She clenched her jaw in anoyance; she would fix that and give herself a proper punishment later. Instead, she soaked her tears of frustration into her eyes and turned to Nancy.

“It is. Maeven’s my middle name,” she clarified.

“It’s. . .nice. Unique. Scottish?” Nancy asked, much to Maeven’s surprise. She was half right.

“Irish, actually. On my dad’s side. My mom’s the Scottish one,” she replied.

The two girls turned their heads forward, watching as Billy pushed Steve just a little too hard as he let out a laugh. Steve stumbled on his feet a little before regaining balance and continued walking as if nothing just happened. To him, it was just another jock with an obnoxious personality; it was nothing new to him.

“Your brother seems. . .nice?” Nancy said, unsure how Maeven would take her honest opinion.

“When he wants to be. And he’s my stepbrother,” she said before they turned left at the next forked hallway, making another note on her map.

“Oh, okay. That makes more sense,” Nancy realized aloud as if a puzzle in her head was finally completed.

“Why?”

“No offense, but. . .” Nancy trailed off, eyeing Billy up and down before doing the same with Maeven. “you look nothing alike and you don’t act like brother and sister,” she pointed out, gesturing at their clear differences.

“None taken, Nancy. Actually, it’s a compliment,” Maeven laughed, bookmarking her place in her sketchbook with her thumb as she closed it.

Nancy had been eyeing Maeven for the entire duration of the tour for two reasons. One; she wasn’t what she was expecting when Principal Higgins asked her to show a new honor student around. Maeven didn’t carry herself with pride and confidence the way others would. She certainly took no effort in trying to dress up for the role. However, she definitely seemed to be quiet and introverted, but also nice personality that reminded her of Barb.

That brought her to reason number two; this new girl reminded her so much of her departed friend so much it almost hurt. And it wasn’t just the vibrant shade of ginger hair that made her sentimental and nostalgic. It was in the way she could focus her attention on whatever she seemed to be working on. Nancy still didn’t know much about Maeven, but she almost had her believing in reincarnation. She had to remind herself that Barb was gone, and that reincarnation didn’t work like that even if it was real.

She made a vow to herself not to compare the two of them, anymore, even if the resemblance was uncanny.

“So. . .Higgins said you were on the honor roll back at your old school,” Nancy said, changing the subject.

“Yeah. For a lot of things, but. . .mostly science,” Maeven answered. Nancy noticed the stickers on her sketchbook that consisted of various flowers and animals, as well as a few skulls of various species. Barb wanted to be an Astronomer after she graduated. They would’ve gotten along.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get through to Steve better than me,” Nancy suggested.

“He has trouble with science?”

“A little bit of everything. He’s more of a ‘sports and parties’ guy.”

Taking in what Nancy told her and the way Steve acted with both her and Billy, Maeven nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I can see that. Especially with that hair.”

In California, the more popular of the students at Maeven’s school treated their hair like a crown of pure gold atop their heads. It’s part of what attracted her to Billy in the first place. She found it hot when people took care of themselves and took pride in their appearances.

Maeven was a little jealous that Nancy got to run her hands through Steve’s cloud-soft hair and she couldn’t. But she had Billy. She had Billy. She needed to keep reminding herself of that; she had Billy and she didn’t need anyone else.

“Yep. King Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington,” Nancy chuckled with air–quotes. Maeven almost choked on her saliva.

“What the fuck?” she laughed

“That’s what everyone calls him,” Nany explained. It certainly wasn’t the cleverest nickname Maeven had heard throughout High School, but it was definitely fitting to Steve. And it was interesting to find out that he was apparently voted the ‘King of Hawkins High’. Did that make Nancy the Queen?

“Are you serious? That’s hilarious. It suits him,” Maeven observed.

“What’re you planning on doing after graduation?” Nancy wondered aloud. Maeven’s head perked up as she answered almost immediately.

“Environmental Science. I wanna work for the National Parks Service in Wildlife Conservation,” she explained.

This was the first time Nancy noticed the way Maeven’s eyes lit up with wonder. She seemed almost like a completely different person when talking about something she loved. The fact that she was so self-assured in her future choice of career was something Nancy envied. She had good grades, sure. But starting her Junior Year of High School still having no clue what she wanted out of her life was incredibly weighing on her shoulders.

“Woah, that's. . .” Nancy trailed off, struggling to find her words.

“Weird?” Maeven finished for her, silently preparing to go back into her shell. But Nancy stopped her before she could; she liked this new girl.

“I was gonna say ‘different.’ A lot of the other girls here say ‘supermodel’ or ‘actress,’” she explained.

Those were common dream jobs she heard back at Newport. She had also heard ‘makeup artist,’ ‘director,’ and ‘musician.’ Her girlfriends back in California had different dreams. Emily wanted to be a teacher, Madison wanted to run her family’s marijuana farm. Cassandra wanted to create special effects for horror movies.

Maeven was surprised that Nancy didn’t add ‘Princess’ to that list.

“Are a lot of the other girls here boring basic bitches?” Maeven joked.

“No. . .well. . .maybe they are, but not all of them,” Nancy replied. “My friend Barb, she wants. . .wanted to be an astronomer.”

Maeven’s head perked up at the mere idea of another science geek at this school. Her dad had an old telescope and used to take her and Max on trips where they could see the night sky clearer.

“Really? That’s pretty badass, actually. You’ll have to introduce her to me tomorrow,” she suggested, to which Nancy seemed to almost freeze on sight.

“Oh, actually, she’s. . .not around anymore,” she told Maeven, biting back the familiar burning sensation of oncoming tears.

“That’s a shame. It would’ve been nice to know another brainiac,” Maeven said.

“Well, you still have me, here,” Nancy laughed, grateful that she didn’t cry. Maeven’s heart rate spiked almost immediately at her reply, anxiety filling up her lungs almost like she was drowning.

“Great job, you little bitch. You just insulted her. She’s not gonna want to be your friend now,” the voice taunted.

“Oh, no, no, no. That’s absolutely not what I meant at all, Nancy. I’m sorry,” she stuttered out, her face heating up and her breath growing heavy.

Nancy’s brow furrowed in uncertainty. Why was Maeven getting so upset? She didn’t do anything wrong. She placed her hand on the new girl’s back, confused and worried when she flinched at her touch.

“Woah, woah. It’s fine, Maeven. You’re good,” she reassured, feeling her heartbeat slowing from her back beneath her palm.

“Sorry,” Maeven panted out, catching her breath as her gripped her sketchbook like a vice.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you if you stop apologizing,” Nancy laughed out.

“Alright, so-. . .thank you,” Maeven corrected herself, finally finding her bearings. Nothing was ruined. Everything was fine. She did nothing wrong. Nancy said so herself.

“Anyway, what’re you doing after you graduate?” she asked, changing the subject.

“I. . .honestly, I’m not sure,” Nancy admitted. It was the first time she said it aloud.

“That’s alright. You’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. It didn’t feel like Nancy had time, even if she was two years away from graduation. All she was certain of was that she didn’t want to walk the same path as her parents.

. . .

Steve held the door open to the library, letting the others walk through. Libraries were easily Maeven’s favorite place in any school. She could spend hours exploring the collection of knowledge each one held.

“And this is the library. It’s usually the busiest when we have Study Hall. Other than that, it’s pretty quiet,” Nancy said.

“It’s nice,” Maeven pointed out, tapping her fingernails against the hardwood table. She found that most libraries were neutral territory; always a little colder than the rest of the rooms in schools and smelled pretty nice despite the fact that some of the books held there were old and dusty. She could picture herself spending a lot of time here, even in the afternoons after school let out. That is if Billy wasn’t too impatient to get driving her and Max home out of the way.

“Yeah, I bet I’m probably gonna find you in here a lot,” Billy joked, playfully nudging Maeven’s arm. He turned to Steve and Nancy. “She’s a bit of a nerd,” he said, pointing at her like it was a big secret.

“I like school. What can I say?”

“No one likes school, Maeven,” Billy laughed at her as they left the library. Nancy noticed the way Maeven seemed to shrink into herself whenever he talked about her, and found herself wondering why.

Nearing the end of the tour as they continued down the halls, Maeven turned back to the map in her sketchbook, marking down the library. The group suddenly stopped at the sound of a shrill, clearly annoyed voice coming from the nearby classroom. Maeven flinched, almost dropping her sketchbook.

“I expect to see you back here next Sunday, Munson! I got you for the next four weeks and I’d rather not see you after that!”

The door to the classroom practically slammed open, making Maeven jump again. Out walked the other end of that seemingly dreadful conversation; a tall boy with a leather jacket and a denim vest with many hand-sewn patches.

“Oh, come on! I know you’d miss me sooner or later, McGrady!” he laughed, tripping over his own feet before regaining his balance and leaning against the set of lockers across from the classroom.

He was a metalhead; that much was obvious, donning a Black Sabbath shirt with ripped jeans and silver rings decorating his fingers. Maeven could see him and Billy getting along. They clearly had the same taste in music, but this Munson guy didn’t seem like the type to hang around jocks due to the way he eyed Steve up and down with purse distaste.

Even if she only observed him for ten seconds, Maeven could tell that he was a troublemaker. He acted awfully confident and cocky for someone who still had a month of weekend detentions to get through.

She also couldn’t deny that this guy was an absolute specimen of a human being; his wide brown eyes and the dimples in his smooth cheeks complimented his strong jawline. The bottom locks of his dark brown hair were a little uneven and choppy, stopping just above his soldiers similar to the way hers was. Again, Maeven liked pretty boys; the boys who almost had feminine features and weren’t afraid to show them off.

And of course, he had to have tattoos. She only caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a cluster of bats on his right arm, but it was enough to send a warm chill throughout her body as she squeezed her thighs together. Maeven found her mind lustfully wandering through the possibility of ghosting her fingers over the ink on his skin that no one else saw.

“Munson,” Steve acknowledged him, passively.

“Harrington,” he replied with a wide, teasing smile before turning his eyes to Billy, nodding, “Guy I’ve never seen before.” he nodded.

As he collected his backpack from the ground and turned to pass the group, he turned to Nancy and Maeven; the first giving him a half-smile laced with annoyed tolerance, while the second just stared. It wasn’t in a rude way, though. Maeven observed Munson with widely curious eyes, reminding him of an owl. As he walked past them, he playfully held out his arm and gave a short bow, the same way a gentleman would allow a woman to pass sixty years or so ago.

“Ladies,” he excused himself before walking the other way. His frivolous demeanor and spirited attitude made Maeven blush, prompting her to bring up her sketchbook up just below her eyes. She huffed out a small laugh as she watched him walk out the double doors, a strange spring in his step.

“Who the fuck was that guy?” Billy asked, looking at Nancy and Steve.

“Nobody important,” Steve rolled his eyes.

. . .

By the time Steve and Nancy finished giving Billy and Maeven the tour, they were n the completely opposite side of the building from where the main office was.

“Aaaand I guess that’s pretty much it,” Steve concluded, clapping his hands together. “But I suggest you stay away from the woods by the bleachers over there. It’s where our resident freak over there likes to deal.”

They stopped at the end of a long hallway next to a set of bathrooms and double doors leading out to the football field. Steve warily gestured to the dark woods nestling behind the rusty, silver bleachers.

Maeven wanted to ask for more clarification, but Billy beat her to it.

“You mean drugs?” he laughed

“Yeah. It’s that crazy guy we saw who just got out of detention. I’d steer clear of him. He got held back,” Nancy answered.

Maeven decided to file that piece of information under ‘private’ for a later date. Even if she didn’t plan on being open about it, it was a little more reassuring that she wouldn’t be the only repeat in school this year. And now she knew who to flag down with a private note in a locker when she needed to replenish her stash.

“Noted. I’mma go take a leak,” Billy announced. Nancy handed her purse to Steve, who willingly accepted it.

“I have to go, too. I’ll be right back,” she smiled, leaning up to give him a small peck on the cheek.

“‘Kay.” Steve muttered, giving her a small rub on her back before waving her off. That left him and the new girl in silence by the doors.

She was leaning on her shoulder on the glass window of the door, focussing her attention down in her sketchbook as she raised one leg behind her to give it a break from walking for so long. The glass of the window chilled her cheek as she rested against it, making her arm stim as she shook the feeling off. Her abrupt and random movement caused Steve’s eyebrows to knit. To him, it seemed like her arm was possessed for a split second. Then again, he had definitely seen stranger things happen.

“Aren’t you gonna go rub one out in the bathroom?” the voice suddenly asked Maeven, who gripped her pen in frustration.

“Not with Nancy in there,” she silently replied. “What if she tries to talk to me? I’ll do it when I get home.”

“You’ve touched yourself before with other girls in the stalls next to you. You should’ve done it in the shower this morning. If you don’t go now, you’re gonna regret it later,” it taunted.

“I said ‘no.’”

“Suit yourself.”

“So, your brother seems. . .”

“Step-brother,” Maeven corrected Steve, not breaking her gaze on her sketchbook. She finished her map and drew a little marijuana leaf near the woods as a reference for herself. She would color it when she got home, as well as the rest of the school with her many art materials.

“Your stepbrother seems like. . .kind of an ass?” Steve phrased it like a question, testing the waters before he could dive straight in. Maeven found herself laughing. Steve definitely wasn’t sugar-coating it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tattle on you. He is kind of a prick, sometimes,” she laughed, closing her sketchbook before tucking it into her backpack. She turned to lean her back against the doors as she teetered on her heels, crossing one foot in front of the other as she held her hands together

Steve looked down at her feet, taking notice of the number of scuff marks and the painted white stars on the toes of Maeven’s doc martens. She wore colorfully mismatched socks with random stripes and designs. He caught a small glimpse of the fishnet tights underneath them, pondering at her unique combination.

“Soooo, uh. . .why do they call you Maeven?” He casually asked, not really knowing what else he could say.

“I’m named after my aunt Maggie, but it gets confusing. Maeven’s my middle name,” she replied, twirling the loose threads of her sweater around her fingers.

“Oh, okay. Got it,” Steve nodded, followed by another awkward silence.

Maeven wasn’t exactly the type of person Steve would chose to hang out with in his spare time. He couldn’t even really pinpoint what she was all about. This girl was obviously an intelligent over-achiever, but seemed so withdrawn and quiet up close and personal. Most smart kids he met were major attention seekers. For someone who dressed in such a hardcore manner, she wasn’t loud and angry and actually seemed very nice. She was also apparently an artsy nerd indicated by the stickers on her sketchbook and Billy’s earlier comment. Steve wondered if she would get along with Mike and his friends. But he didn’t understand why Billy seemed so fond of her. She seemed more of the type to hang out with freaks like Munson.

“So, you and Nancy? You guys seem happy,” Maeven observed, bringing Steve’s train of thought off-track. It took him a moment to process and answer her.

“Yeah,” he perked up, suddenly grateful that the silence was over. “We’ve been going out for a little over a year now,” Steve reminisced.

“Nice,” Maeven gave him a closed-mouth smile with an added nod. It was reassuring that she noticed him and Nancy without knowing anything prior; it meant the sparks were still there. . .weren’t they?

“What’s it like in California?” he wondered aloud. Maeven’s eyes left his for a moment and she gathered her thoughts.

“A lot bigger. . .and sunnier. Also not as chilly in the fall as it is here.” she told Steve. She found it odd that she never really realized how overwhelmingly warm it was in California until she was moved across the country. It felt nice, though; like a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah. I bet you have a lot more to do there than here,” Steve guessed. He could only really imagine. He had barely tread outside Indiana his whole life, let alone Hawkins. Sure, he was interested in the world outside his home town, but was perfectly content staying right where he was.

“Well, we may have malls and skyscrapers, yeah. But it's packed with people,” Maeven explained, unwrapping the thread from her finger to let the blood flow back in.

“It’s a big state. Hawkins must be a big downgrade,” Steve humbled himself and his home town. He was well aware Hawkins wasn’t really anyone’s first choice.

“Not necessarily,” Maeven counter-argued.

“You like it here?”

“It’s growing on me; a change in temperature, lots of woods surrounding us, not as crowded. What more could I ask for?”

Maeven found the town of Hawkins, Indiana weirdly endearing; a nice change from the overwhelming suffocation of city life, even if she did happen to sense a strange vibe from it. Still, Steve pressed on. He found it hard to believe that she found Hawkins more exciting than California, of all places.

“What part of the state are you from?”

“San Diego. Well, also a little bit from San Francisco,” Maeven told him.

“Really? How does that work?”

“When you’re parents are divorced,” she casually said. Her reply hit a nerve in Steve.

His parent’s weren’t divorced, so he couldn’t exactly relate. But as far as he was concerned, they should be split up. His mom obviously didn’t trust his father to go anywhere without being under her supervision, lest he ends up seducing other women. That wasn’t what a marriage was supposed to be. Steve promised himself that his and Nancy’s would be different; better.

“So. . .I’m guessing your mom married Billy’s dad?” he guessed. When he saw her mother and sister earlier, he could definitely see the resemblance.

“Yeah. They’ve been together for about ten months now,” Maeven said, to which Steve was taken aback.

“Woah, okay.”

“What?”

“Just seems a little fast. That’s all,” he pointed out. He was raised to believe that you had to court someone for at least a year before even considering marriage.

“It is, yeah. Trust me. I didn’t even find out they were engaged until after they got married,” Maeven rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” Steve tried to suppress his laugh, which Maeven joined in on.

He was surprised she didn’t seem more pissed about it. He certainly would be if he was forced into that situation.

“No offense, but, uhm. . .how did you miss that?”

“Don’t mention that you were in the looney bin for three months. He’s not gonna want to be your friend anymore if he thinks you’re crazy. He already saw you twitch your arm,” the voice warned her.

“I was. . .busy. I kinda buried myself in school and parties,” she told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie; just leaving out three months of the timeline. But Steve didn’t need to know that.

Keeping herself occupied with all her homework, afterschool clubs, drug-fueled parties, and many interests kept her mind off of her parents. There were times when she managed to convince herself her parents weren’t even a part of her life. Of course, she knew that they were still there, but their presence and roles to Maeven were tuned out. She didn’t recognize the people they had become and had to learn to somehow live without seeing them together anymore.

It was a change that she never prepared for, and still found it hard to grasp at times.

“I gotta say, you are. . .totally not what I expected you to be,” Steve realized.

“Really? What were you expecting?” Maeven asked him.

“Most of the smart kids or honor students here are pretty loud and proud. You’re just. . .” he droned, struggling to find the right word.

“Humble?” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure. I was gonna say ‘shy,’ but that works, too,” he clarified. “And now I find out you like parties, and my whole vision of you has changed again.”

Steve wasn’t as noticeably perceptive as Nancy was, that was for sure. But he seemed to make up for it in natural charisma. He also appeared more emotionally intelligent than his girlfriend, even if it seemed like he was still adjusting to his new learning curve.

“You ever heard that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Steven?” she joked with him.

“I have, indeed,” he playfully answered.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t really understand it until about a year ago,” he confessed, internally cringing at his behavior last year. He still couldn’t believe it had been that long already.

“That’s surprising,” Maeven told him.

“What is?”

“Not to be a hypocrite, but I didn’t peg you as a mean guy,” she added, much to Steve’s relief. He often found himself worrying he was still the same ‘douche-bag,’ as Mike had once called him, that he was a not-too-long ago. Steve didn’t like the person he became when he was around Tommy and Carol.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he admitted.

“Yeah, you don’t have the whole. . .asshole jock energy the same way Billy does. Sounds like you used to, though?”

Was this girl psychic? It was really starting to freak him out, But he kept talking, anyway.

“Not exactly proud of it, but yeah.”

“I think you should be. . .about changing for the better, that is,” Maeven explained. Steve had never thought about it that way, before. He ended up more engaged in this conversation with the new girl than he thought he would be.

“What classes do you have, by the way?” It just dawned on him, and it triggered Mae to move quickly when taking off her backpack as if she was in a hurry.

“Let me check, hold on,” she said, swiftly dropping to crouch on the ground and dig around inside for the schedule the lady at the front office handed to her.

“Where did that sudden burst of energy come from?” Steve thought to himself. He considered asking why she carried so much stuff in her bag but decided against it.

“Uhmm. . .History and Literature 4 for First period. Then Biology 4, Art, Health. After lunch, it’s Algebra 4, Gym, and then Study Hall. But, I guess that last one is what everyone has,” she read aloud, leaning over to Steve’s side so he could have a look at the paper, too.

“Oh, good, we have Lit and gym together,” he pointed out. “And I think you have Health and Math with Nancy.”

“Nice to know I won't be totally flying blind,” she sighed with relief.

“You’re taking a lot of advanced classes. Higgins wasn’t kidding when he said you were smart,” he complimented. Maeven was about to thank him, but the voice in her head stopped her, ruining it like he hadn’t said anything nice about her at all.“Don’t tell him you should be a senior. Don’t tell him you had to repeat a year. Don’t be stupid, Maeven.”

. . .

A/N: Thanks so much for tuning in and all the love I've gotten back on this! It may not be a lot in terms of other fanfics, but I'm happy even if just one person enjoys my writing. This took longer to write than I thought, as I had to split up what I had originally planned for this one and put it into the next one. As always, I love hearing what you guys think about this and maybe what you might want to see or think will happen.

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mythicamagic · 8 years ago

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Diabolik Fairy Tales - Chapter 1

AU - The Diabolik Lovers re-imagined as fairy tale characters. Each chapter will feature a different diaboy, as their dark natures become entwined with the original macabre fairy tales of the past. Includes smut with a nameless heroine (slight reader insert)

Rated M Trailer is here

Chapter 1 - Yuma Mukami Chapter 2 - Shuu Sakamaki

Chapter 3 - Kanato Sakamaki Chapter 4 - Ayato Sakamaki

Chapter 5 - Ruki Mukami Chapter 6 - Laito Sakamaki

Chapter 7 - Azusa Mukami Chapter 8 - Reiji Sakamaki

Chapter 9 - Kou Mukami Chapter 10 - Subaru Sakamaki (end)

Warning! This series of fairy tale one shots will have various subjects or content that might make you uncomfortable. Off the top of my head there’s cannibalism, manipulation, abuse, and other such things. This is because I wanted to link the original fairy tales and all their messed up content that Disney and others alike try to censure, and combine it with Diabolik Lovers. You know…that series infamous for all kinds of messed up themes ^^ Now this isn’t to say that all those will be featured in EVERY chapter, just a few, and I will specify the warning before the chapter. So if it makes you feel uncomfortable just skip certain chapters yo.

I’d also like to remind you that these characters don’t have to share my moral beliefs, or philosophies. My main goal in making this was to combine horror and romance, so I hope I succeeded. This series is written in third person without Yui as the MC. There are no OC’s and you can self-insert if you like but it isn’t really a reader x diaboy scenario, nor am I shipping them with say ‘Cinderella’, in fact the heroine remains nameless for the most part. But you can imagine what you like ^^

Oh and there be no vampires here. AU for a reason ya feel?

Warnings: Lemon and Implied Cannibalism

What Big Teeth You Have ~

Pushing against a heavy door, a young woman braced herself. Its large frame swung wide on its hinges with a groan, almost lost in the rush of wind and biting cold. Quickly stepping out, she heaved the door back into place, trying to stop any heat from escaping. She sighed, breath becoming visible in the air, before adjusting the basket slung over her forearm. Clutching the clasp of her cloak tightly, the material strained under her hand as she shivered. Not wasting time, she trudged forward in the snow, the blood red of her cloak in stark contrast to the white surroundings.

Luckily the winds became still, and it had long stopped snowing, making it easier to walk without having to brace against the elements. The woman craned her neck up to the full sky, and wondered how long she had until the next snow fell. Grimly going about her task, she strode through the small village. If it were a little warmer she would probably have dallied, but she had a two hour journey ahead, so the sooner she left the better.

Passing the local blacksmith, her lashes lowered in pleasure as heat softly caressed her cheeks. Her steps faltered as it lured her in, the very air beckoning her closer.

“Hey, Little Red! Off to Grandma’s again I take it?” Shouted the aged blacksmith, sweat clinging to his brow. She briefly envied him, but smiled even as resentment threatened to loosen her tongue.

“I thought I asked you to lay off the ‘Little Red’ stuff.” She chided lightly. “But yes, that’s where I’m headed.”

“Careful on your way!” He yelled over the furnace, waving at her absentmindedly.

Taking that as a hint to leave, she sighed and stepped away, instantly mourning the heat and wishing she’d never felt it.

Now the bitter sting of winter attacked her with a much fouler force, and the woman tightened her cloak around her shoulders once more. She passed by several closed shops and locked eyes briefly with one of the only merchants still in business.

The weight of her basket felt heavier as she skimmed over their meagre selection of food. Her lips thinned, and she quickly looked away, turning her head forward.

As she turned towards a path that would lead her out of the village however, she stopped dead.

There was a loud thwack, followed by ripping and a dull thud.

Her heart shuddered in her chest as her eyes greedily devoured him.

The routine went on, methodical in its simplistic savagery. There wasn’t anything special about watching someone chop wood, but Yuma had a different presence about him when he was absorbed in work.

His large hands gripped the handle of an axe and swung it high. He then brought it down quickly, splitting the log down the middle in one fell swoop.

His muscles coiled and flexed under his shirt, and her eyes followed a path up from his exposed collarbone – wasn’t he cold? – to his drawn features.

Her brows pulled together, before his eyes slanted up, seemingly by chance, and pinned her in place. Her treacherous heart leaped, and for a breathless moment, time seemed to stop.

The moment was broken by the widening of his smile, before his face split into a full grin. “Oi, Sow! Quit staring!”

Her face flushed, becoming redder than her cloak as the merchant behind her craned his neck in their direction.

“Yuma!” Her cloak blustered around her as she raced forward, hushing him. “The whole village will hear you!”

He chuckled. “Heh, knew it was a sure-fire way to get you over here. Don’t see why you gotta be so defensive about it. You should just sit there and ogle me all day, we both know it’s what you wanna do.”

Shame briefly coloured her face, and her boots suddenly became very interesting.

“If all you’re going to do is tease, then I’ll be on my way. And stop calling me ‘Sow’, it’s worse than Little Red.”

Yuma looked affronted as he swung the axe up, resting it lightly against his shoulder. “Sow is Sow. Ain’t about to call you anything else. Anyways you’re heading out at a bad time, you can see plain as day that the sky is full.”

He towered over her in height, so it was easy to take his warning to heart. Yumas lip curled as he eyed the cloudy sky, but she sighed and shook her head in response. “I have to go.”

“And the wolves?” He asked, gaze flitting over her slight form.

She smiled, moving the cloth over the basket aside to show a glint of a knife. “What about them?”

Yuma shook his head, something in his eyes warning her not to get too cocky. “Heh, I see this Sow has fangs.”

She rolled her eyes. “Grandma’s probably starving up there by now. I’ve missed my last couple of visits because of the bad weather, it has to be now.”

“Tch.” Yuma clicked his tongue, saying without words his stance on the situation. Things had become heated between everyone because of the recent famine, but the subject of her Grandmother had always turned Yuma sour. “And what is the lucky layabout getting from you today?” He sneered at the basket.

“The last of the bread. Some winter berries…oh, and leftovers we had that-“

Her stomach growled, and her mouth clicked shut. Yuma looked at her sharply, and she quelled under the sheer intensity in his eyes.

“Oi. When was the last time you ate?” His voice dropped, and anger briefly flashed, fierce and dark on his face.

He was hungry too, just as everyone was, so tempers were high. But she couldn’t understand Yuma’s mood swings in particular. It was as if he took her hunger personally, like it offended him when she couldn’t eat.

“I’m fine Yuma-“She tried to coax the usual, teasing Yuma out, but his face hardened.

“You know Sow… If I didn’t know any better-“He drew very close, his height making her shoulders drop. She stayed rooted in place even as he bent closer, teeth briefly flashing. “I’d say you wore that cloak to hide your skinniness. Bet that’s why you’re always so cold huh? Winters got a real taste for those with no meat on their bones. You can feel it biting you even now, can’t ya?”

She held her ground against the woodcutter’s keen gaze, and only felt herself relax when a bit of warmth gentled his eyes. She knew he only got angry out of consideration and sense of ‘fairness’.

“Alright. If that’s how it is, then I’ll play nice for once and offer you some of my share.” He smirked, eyes hooded as they stayed locked with hers.

“W-what? I couldn’t ask you to do that. You must be running low as it is-“

“Stop fussing. I have game that I shot just the other day.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a jar, holding it up for her inspection.

Red, raw meat glared back at her. She raised wide eyes to his. “Yuma, how did you get this? You know there’s been nothing sighted or caught around here in weeks.”

It was true, the gravity of their situation had hit when villagers had to look to the surrounding woods to provide for them. But berries and herbs only filled the stomach so much. Yet in their haste to hunt they’d picked off all the game frighteningly quick. There were no more deer, rabbits, squirrels, and even fish had become hard to catch. The only thing that remained elusive but in abundance, was wolves.

“Tch, don’t question my hunting. I’m a pretty decent shot with a rifle.” He grinned, sharp teeth glinting. His smiles were always infectious and she couldn’t help but return it. Warmth flooded her and she opened her mouth with affection on the tip of her tongue.

“Yuma-”

“Red! Get a move on to Grandma’s! Off with you, now!” Cried a shrill voice, and she didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Yes mother!” She called, glancing behind her and waving awkwardly. She hid the jar from view, knowing that Yuma would probably get in trouble for not sharing the game amongst the villagers. She pushed it back into his large hands.

“Sorry, I’ll get this later when she’s not looking. Thank you though, I really-“she tripped over her words, and became frustrated, trying to continue. “- I um – thanks.” She finished lamely, smiling.

“My pleasure, Sow.” He grinned sharply, voice dropping in the familiar way that usually prompted her to fantasize about too many inappropriate things. She shook herself and nodded, turning without another word and walking away.

“Oi, Sow! Forgot to say-“she glanced back at him and a serious look hardened his eyes. “Don’t take the shortcut. The pass is closed with snow. It’s a pain in the ass, but don’t go getting any ideas about going through it. Just take the usual path.”

She hesitated, thinking of the weather, but nodded. Turning away, the feeling of eyes boring into her back quickened her step, until she was swallowed by the cover of the woods.

Cold numbed her fingers as she tucked her hands tighter into fur coated gloves. Her red cloak spilled out behind her as snow crunched under her feet. Branches from the tall trees seemed to enclose over her head, and everything was still and quiet. Yet the woman trudged on grimly.

Yuma distracted her thoughts, and she bit her lip absentmindedly. He’d come into her life unexpectedly, showing up out of the blue a year ago. Back then, the village had been prosperous despite being so remote that travellers scarcely reached them. So it was with befuddlement but kindness that her father, the village head, welcomed him. Yuma never spoke of his past, except to say that he’d spent some time in the city and had to leave for personal reasons. Several villagers still said cutting remarks about him.

Unlike them, she’d become fast friends with him, unperturbed despite not knowing his past. Her smile fell a little however, at the thought of the jar.

The weather had turned cold so unexpectedly fast that year that it had taken the village by surprise. As a result, their food supplies had suffered, but this would have been fine had they any animals to hunt. Yet the game was picked off so quickly it was frightening, until they’d ran out entirely.

Even trade with other villages had become difficult, because of recent snow storms blocking trade routes. One of the villagers had gone missing in a storm not too long ago, now presumed dead. The village was now turning to their livestock for food, and whatever leftovers they had left.

Where Yuma had come by an animal, she didn’t know.

A distant sound caught her attention, and the woman’s head snapped up. A long, drawn out howl echoed in the woods. Her heart picked up, but she shook herself. She’d never been attacked by a wolf in all her visits to Grandmothers, and even with Father’s warnings she felt confident in dealing with them.

Her father didn’t like her visiting Grandmother without an escort, but there was no one else to help. Even if Yuma had volunteered, he probably would’ve been stopped by her mother. A warning look was always glinting behind people’s eyes whenever she was alone with him, though she tried to dismiss their stares and baseless rumours.

But she knew what those gazes meant. Don’t get too close, be wary.

Yuma brought a different kind of danger with him than wolves did. The kind that prompted sweating, writhing bodies bathed in moonlight to tease her thoughts. Those thoughts had become hopes, until they leaked like smoke into her very bones and became desires.

Now they were a part of her. The desire for him was as intrinsic as breathing, and she knew it with a certainty that frightened and excited her. But the only way to have him and experience his calloused touch, would be to become his bride. Her boots slid on an icy patch, and she stopped dead, balancing herself rigidly.

She didn’t care much for marriage, and sensed Yuma didn’t either. Yet if she didn’t marry him, she’d be risking her reputation, her life, all for one night. And if she gave in she’d be called worse things than ‘Sow.’

However, as she reached the crossroads and decided to follow Yuma’s advice, taking the longer path, she couldn’t help but be lulled by a darker feeling.

And that feeling made her realise something terrifying.

That if he wanted her, she’d be prepared to sacrifice everything, just to satisfy the cravings he elicited in her.

Shaking her head, she squashed that thought down, even as her thighs pressed together and an achingly sweet desire tightened her core.

The distant howls from within the woods rang out almost ceaselessly, but the woman continued undaunted.

Yet when another howl rose up, louder than the others, her steps faltered. Turning, she glanced around. That one had definitely been closer than the others.

Quickening her pace, her hand slid under the cover on the basket, touching the knife. Wolves were usually shy creatures despite their reputation, but hunger drove many animals to desperation. If they were half as hungry as her village was, then maybe…

Her breath shuddered as her heart hammered in her ribcage. Just a little further.

Grandmother’s house lay at the crest of the great hill, in a clearing free of the surrounding woods. The old woman had lived there all her life, and even after her husband passed, she’d refused to move into the village. It had fallen to ‘Little Red’ to take her meals, so she’d taken this path countless times.

Another howl, long and drawn out, echoed right into her very bones. The woman had never felt such terror when making a visit before.

She trudged quickly up the hill. A twig snapped behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. Instead she walked faster, pumping her legs until she was running.

The sound of bushes shaking, perhaps fur brushing against leaves, caught her ear. Something thudded against the snow behind her, and then she really was sprinting. Grandmother’s house came into view, just as the very real sound of something running gave chase behind her. Thud, thud, thud, thud pounded feet, no, paws on snow.

She breathed torn, ragged breaths as she ran. Her face was numb with the cold as her hood flew back.

Reaching desperately for the door handle, she quickly grasped it and tore the door open. Slamming it shut behind her, she threw her weight against it and braced for the impact of snapping jaws and hungry snarls.

But it never came. The sound that had shadowed her footsteps was gone. It was silent in the cottage, save for the crackle of the fireplace.

Sighing in relief, the woman tried to calm her racing heart. Once her breathing had slowed, she looked around. “Grandmother? I’m here! Sorry I haven’t checked in for a little while, the path was closed with snow.” She shook her boots and loosened the cloak around her shoulders.

“Grandmother?”

There was no response. Frowning, she made her way from the living room to the aged bedroom, finding it empty. She must be here, the fire is still lit.

Puzzled, she set down her basket. A seed of doubt bloomed in her heart, tightening with every minute that crept by without her Grandmothers shrill voice. Reaching under the basket’s cover, she brought out her knife and hid it under her cloak.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” She asked quietly, trying to comfort herself with the sound of her own voice rather than listen to deafening silence. Wandering back to the living room, her eyes caught sight of the fireplace.

The crate where logs were kept for the fire was empty. Grandmother had probably gone outside to the shed to get some more.

Walking to the back entrance and grabbing the handle, she pushed, exposing herself to the bitter cold once more.

“Grandmother?” She called to the nearby shed, seeing the door open. Following the two sets of footprints in the snow, her heart thudded in her chest, pumping sickeningly fast.

Wind whistled in the air as something wet landed on her nose. Snow was beginning to fall.

Her legs grew heavy as she reached the entrance of the shed.

And then her stomach lurched violently at the sight.

Red streaks in the snow caught her attention first, until her eyes landed on a broken form laying in the shed. Logs had fallen around her, obviously giving under her weight as she’d landed on them. The white of her hair danced in the snowy breeze, and a strangled noise chocked the girl’s throat as she stared at her grandmother.

“No, no please.” She muttered, bending down and reaching out, only to think better of it. The broken form of Grandmother was deadly still. The girl’s hands hovered uselessly in the air above her, staring at the ugly red patches of blood.

Frightened, quick breaths filled the woman’s lungs. As much as it disturbed her to think it, the blood looked freshly spilled. Judging by the amount of blood coating her body and the blood spatters over the shed’s walls, she’d been viciously attacked.

The girl was about to wonder what monster had done this, when there came a low, hungry rush of sound, hissing between teeth.

She froze. Raising her head slowly, she locked eyes with the wolf in the doorway.

It snapped its jaws, mouth peeling back to reveal sharp yellowed teeth. Spittle coated them, spilling out to pool on the ground.

It’s hackles rose as she shifted, wrapping her fingers around the knife more firmly. She trembled under the wolf’s gaze as two amber eyes stared at her fixatedly. A snarl rose from the pit of its throat as legs bent, and great jaws opened wider.

A cry escaped her as it suddenly lunged, and she quickly brought up the knife. Her eyes squeezed shut on instinct, expecting teeth to lock around her throat.

Something slammed into the ground. A loud whimper filled her ears.

Opening her eyes, she started and scrambled away from the twitching body of the wolf. An axe was buried in it’s skull.

The woman’s gaze travelled up from the handle to Yuma’s grim face. His eyes were blazing as they locked with hers.

“Shit. I take my eyes off you for two fucking seconds-” he grunted. “You okay?”

An emotion that threatened to undo her bubbled to the surface, before exploding. Tears pricked her eyes as she rose to her feet, jumping into Yuma’s waiting arms.

“Y-yuma. Oh God, my-my Grandmother she-“Air chocked her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t hold back the rush of relief that he was here, here with her. The fear, sadness and confusion left her heavy and shaking in his arms.

He muttered something into her hair, tightening his arms around her. His warmth drew her closer, like a moth to flame, and she clung to him, wanting never to let go as his fingers stroked her hair.

Sometime later, the woman sat before the fire, her skirts arranged around her so that she could comfortably sit and stare into the flames numbly. The shutters rattled against the winds outside. She could feel the chill in the air even as she basked in the heat of the fire. Yuma was somewhere behind her in the kitchen, rambling under his breath as he kept himself busy. Since taking her inside, he hadn’t sat down once. Instead he’d made her a drink, secured the shutters on the windows and barricaded the doors against the snow. He’d said that a storm had followed him from the south when he’d decided to come to the cottage after her.

Since the weather was so bad, they’d decided to wait it out before heading back to the village and explaining what had happened.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Grandmother was still in the shed. It made the girl shudder to think of her cold, lifeless body being forgotten out in the snow. A part of her felt as if she could hear the old woman’s bones rattling in the wind outside.

“Oi, budge up will ya?”

Broken out of her thoughts, she quickly scooted over to make room for Yuma. He bent down and folded his legs beneath him with a satisfied sigh.

“Well, everything’s taken care of. We should be fine in here for a good while.”

She nodded, mind drifting back to the shed once more.

“Shit, quit with that. If you need a distraction, just focus on me.” A warm hand was suddenly on her chin, turning her face to his. When her pupils focused on him, he smirked. One of his canines peeked out between his teeth, as it did sometimes when he was truly satisfied. She was unable to stop from smiling weakly.

“Better. Don’t go wandering off somewhere I can’t follow, alright Sow?” He busied himself with bringing out a jam jar, and the woman could only puzzle over what he’d meant.

“You brought the meat with you?” She asked once catching sight of the red substance within the glass, though something about this jar seemed familiar.

Yuma rolled his eyes and bumped shoulders with her. “Tch, course. It’s gotta get eaten.”

She winced and rubbed her shoulder even as she smiled. “Yeah, guess so. It’s just hard to think of anything else except for…”

She trailed off, her mind returning to that dark place. Yuma unscrewed the lid of the jam jar and without preamble, ate a slice of red meat.

The woman started in alarm. “You eat meat… raw?” She was almost certain there had been blood in that jar.

His expression was flat, as if he found nothing wrong with it. “Yeah. I mean, not all the time. It’s safe if you handle it with care, which is pretty easy in these freezing conditions.”

She adjusted her cloak worriedly, but froze the moment a low gurgling sound escaped her stomach. Yuma’s eyes were locked on hers in a second.

“Ha? I see… ya still haven’t eaten.”

She shook her head, quickly rising. “There’s still some food in Grandmothers basket, I’ll just-“

A hand latched around her wrist, pulling her down. She squeaked in alarm, landing awkwardly. Her knees bumped against his, and she grabbed hold of his shoulders to keep from bumping noses with him.

His face was suddenly close, too close. She practically drowned in the heavy depths of his brown eyes. A sliver of green around the edge of his iris’s caught her attention, and she became mesmerised by it. A part of her didn’t want to move, and he knew this, judging from the wicked grin on his face.

Blushing hotly, she opened her mouth to complain, before he shifted, wrapping his arm around her and pulling so that she was now completely nested onto his lap.

“That’s better, ain’t it Sow?” His voice was pitched low and husky, hot breath fanning against her ear and cheek. Her limbs locked, heart thudding painfully fast in her chest.

“Tch…look at that. You’re trembling. Shoulda said if you were cold.” His hands were rough as they rubbed up and down her back and arms, as if unused to handling something gently. But when he decided to settle her even closer in his arms, she half wished he’d continued.

His eyes were sinfully dark as she tilted her chin just so, barely a hair’s breadth away from his. This was all he needed to finally crash his lips onto hers.

A squeak of surprise was muffled under his mouth as he pressed his lips against hers painfully. His tongue flicked out to run over her bottom lip, and she yielded under his touch, parting her lips.

He groaned as his tongue plundered her mouth, and she was left almost unable to respond, helpless to do anything but cling and press against him.

When her hips shifted against his unconsciously, he inhaled through his nose sharply. His large hands settled on her back and hip under the heavy fall of her cloak, licking flames of desire over her body.

“Are you trembling from the cold, or something else now?” He murmured, pressing a hungry kiss to her cheek, then her jaw.

Though she was indeed shaking, the woman knew it wasn’t from fear. Her fingers clutched at his clothing like steel hooks. Nothing could pry them away.

“I’m not scared.”

“Bold words, coming from a girl who’s never learned how to shiver.”

Her cloak suddenly felt so heavy it weighed down on her shoulders like a burden. She became hyper aware of her innocence, like a barrier between them.

The woman awkwardly untangled herself from him and stood, backing away. She was sweating, blood boiling too fast under her skin.

The urge to shed her clothes overwhelmed her in the hot room, which only grew warmer as Yuma also stood, gaze fixed on her.

She raised her chin, catching sight of the jam jar that he’d left before the fire. The reflection of flames danced upon the glass and only served to highlight the dowdy design of its polka dot lid. Why was Yuma using Grandmother’s jam jar? He hadn’t had it earlier.

The wind wailed against the shutters of the room, rattling them loudly like Grandmother’s shrill scream.

The realization came all at once. She heard the locks straining against the barricaded door. The jar, in the right light, made the bloodied meat glint. And within, one white hair lay trapped inside.

Yuma smiled as her eyes became fearful and wide. “Heh, what big eyes you have, Sow. You finally noticed it huh?”

She didn't move.

The bones in the shed trembled.

“Gonna run away?” His voice almost dared her to.

Fear locked her limbs, and she felt the horror inside her heart start to leak into her expression. But the thought of a limp body, lying in the snow, gripped her tight and steeled her nerves.

When her hands rose it wasn’t to grab the knife on the nearby table, but to reach under her cloak for the lace of her dress. Undoing the fastenings with a steadier hand than she thought herself capable, she slid her arms free of the sleeves and shimmed it down her hips until the cloth pooled at her feet.

Throughout, Yuma watched her with wide eyes. They roved over her face at first, before lowering to the gap in her cloak that showed only a sliver of flesh.

After sliding her winter stockings down her legs, she stood tall and bare underneath the heavy fall of her cloak.

It had the desired effect, as in a blink, Yuma bore down on her, leaning in close with his teeth glinting. Yet just as his hand reached for her, she grabbed the knife, leaning up quick so that it was poised against his neck.

Yuma’s breath stilled, whilst hers was short, fast.

“Tell me why you did it.”

Yuma’s eyes blazed. His lips turned up, voice becoming a husky whisper. “Does a predator need a reason to eat prey?”

The knife pressed against his neck a little harder, drawing blood. But her hands were weak. Tears stung her eyes.

Yuma clicked his tongue, and the woman chocked on her cry as the knife was swiftly knocked from her hand.

Yuma then grabbed her close, grip painfully tight. “She was holdin’ out on you, Sow. When I came here to build up the hearth a week ago, I saw the pantry.”

He dragged her to an old cupboard that she recognised. To her knowledge, it was completely empty. Yuma kicked the door open, and her eyes flew wide.

His lips were suddenly beside her ear, hot breath fanning into her hair. “It’s filled with food. Food she didn’t share with the village. And all the while she kept accepting your baskets, while you went hungry.”

The woman’s heart thudded, heavy in her chest. Her family had slaved for food for months, yet the pantry was filled to the brim. Grandmother had eaten at her leisure.

Yuma tugged her numb body back. Her head hit the floor a moment later, body spread out in front of the fire like a feast. Yuma leaned over her, lips brushing her ear. “Ya call that fair?”

She shuddered and tried to rise, her skull aching from the impact. His body weighed her down. Fingers grabbed her hair and yanked, until she looked him in the eye. The smell of bread filled her nostrils, before it was against her lips, which she recognised from her basket. Yuma pressed it forcefully against her mouth. “Eat.”

Hot tears blurred her vison as she opened and began to chew. Her mouth was dry and the bread clung to her tongue, but Yuma was unrelenting even as she chocked and swallowed.

She wet her lips once she was done and Yuma stared at her, fixated on such a simple action. Air on her skin made her eyes drop to her chest, where the cloak had parted, revealing her breast. Yuma’s gaze followed hers, and a different kind of hunger licked hot flames up her thighs.

Their lips met between one moment and the next. She didn’t know how, or why. Suddenly all the fear, pain and noise was suspended in the air, so far away it couldn’t touch her. All that was left in her body was the embers of desire. Grandmother was lost to her, barely a concept anymore. Yet the woman couldn’t find it in her to feel remorse for her own heartlessness. An eye for an eye.

His large hand cupped her breast, squeezing until she moaned against his mouth.

Yuma’s lips were harsh and utterly relentless, assaulting her own with a force so great it left her reeling, helpless to do anything.

Moans spilled from her mouth into his, as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her sensitive nipple. Hips met and sensually slid against each other. Teeth knocked. When he bit at her lip, pain only served to heighten the pleasure. Her appetite consumed her, and when his tongue sank between her teeth she didn’t think about the meat in the jar beside them.

She began to claw at his clothing, skin on fire as she shifted beneath him. Yuma gave in to her wordless request and broke away to take off his coat and shirt. He didn’t pause as his fingers undid his belt and the woman watched as he freed his hard length. Her breathing hitched, heart hammering in her chest as his body sank down over her.

His lips found hers again, pressing with a hunger that mirrored her own. Both his touch and kisses felt bruising in their strength. Long fingers slid into her cloak, until they brushed against her wet sex. The clasp of her cloak strained against her collarbone as she writhed, bucking her hips against his hand as he teased her.

When his other hand left her breast to fiddle with the clasp of her cloak, she quickly grabbed his arm. “Y-yuma, don’t-“

“I don’t wanna hear any complaints, Sow.” He growled. Clicking it open, he parted the cloak with one hand, eyes roving over her body as red cloth gave way to bare skin.

She looked away, wanting to shield her skinny hips and hide her ribs. Yuma just stared down at her grimly.

“You’re just like I used to be…” he murmured. “No, maybe more like Boss. He was self-sacrificing too. Tch, it was sickening.” Dulled, faraway eyes contemplated her form dispassionately.

The woman blinked and reached for him, wanting to know more, but his fingers resumed their motions as he slid another inside her.

“Now I see why you’re not scared that I’d eat you.” He remarked casually, even as she panted and moaned underneath him.

“I-Im not a piece of mea-“ She was cut off as something that had built within her burst, and her back arched, panting wildly.

Yuma just grinned. “Greedy, stupid little Sow. You wouldn’t care so long as it felt good, right?”

He removed his fingers, lapping at the juices coating them. The woman tried to calm her breathing but tensed as he bent his head, grabbing her leg and pushing it aside as he thrust his tongue inside slick folds.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp, hands reaching for his soft hair as he lapped at her, sucking her juices like exquisite fruit.

When she felt teeth nip at her inner thighs, her heart stuttered with fear. She looked down and saw his face, shadowed with a dark expression. His eyes were unreadable. She knew at once the danger she was in as his tongue travelled up her navel. As if, at any moment, the mood might take him, and she’d be devoured on the spot.

When he raised his head and braced himself over her, he leaned in close, smirking. “Heh, unfortunately Sow, I’m not sure you’ll survive this. Your bones might snap like little twigs.”

His hand moved over the plains of her slight form. She glimpsed something in his eyes, before she felt the head of his hard length rub against her entrance.

“I’m not that fragile.” She spoke clearly, knowing fear did her no good. She raised her knees to accommodate him, never breaking eye contact as he slowly drove himself in. Yuma hissed in pleasure as she gasped, feeling of her walls tightening around him. Pain squeezed her eyes shut.

The feeling was indescribable. Yuma was inside her, sheathed in her heat, bodies pressed so close she could smell his earthy scent. It was just as she’d wanted. She leaned up to kiss his neck just once, and his gaze was puzzled before he was suddenly moving.

She bit down on her lower lip hard when he pulled out and slammed himself in, building a rhythm as he pounded against her.

He inhaled sharply as she pushed back under him, her small form dwarfed by his tall frame. She clung to his shoulders as the sounds of their bodies moving filling up the room. Sweat glistened off his chest and brow. The light from the fire bathed his skin in a warm colour, and she was enraptured by how he moved as they rutted together like animals.

She dazedly watched as he slid out of her, how the muscles in his abdomen flexed before he thrust back in, burying himself to the hilt. “Hah…” She heard Yuma hiss through his teeth, fingers digging into her thigh and hip.

One of his hands slid down her body, finding her clit and playing with it as he slammed into her, her juices rubbing off against his thighs. She felt as if she was burning alive, but the fire was blazing under her skin. She curled a hand into the red cloak underneath her, clinging to it and panting as she felt her second orgasm building. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, tasting blood as she groaned his name.

Yuma’s lips suddenly pressed against hers as her body shook and enclosed around him. White hot pleasure crashed down to her core. Yuma sped up and continued pounding into her, his thrusts becoming desperate and uncontrolled as he bit and licked at her skin.

His throat emitted a deep noise, breathing erratic as she felt him slam into her one last time, before unloading his seed in her.

A dazed sort of terror echoed in the back of her mind, sounding like the villages voices, but she knew herbs and other such things to quell her fears of motherhood.

Yuma panted, drawing away slowly. Her heart stuttered when he caught her eye.

“I promised myself I’d never starve again.” His husky voice was almost lost to her as he bent to kiss and lick at the sweat on her collarbone. “The feeling of having your insides cave in on themselves just to give your body something to eat… nearly died in the slums from that sensation.”

Teeth nipped, scraping lightly against heated flesh. “But you made me break that promise.” She swallowed under the look he gave her. “I began starvin’ again, the moment I saw you. Nothing would quench the thirst except a taste.”

Pure satisfaction darkened his eyes, and she knew this had been his aim all along. “Tch, but I still aint sated Sow. Not by a long shot.”

He didn’t expect the woman to smile up at him, teeth sharper than he remembered. “Neither am I.”

The fears and names she heard so clearly in her mind were echoed the coming days after. No one suspected Yuma of anything after Grandmother’s body was discovered, but the village soon turned on her once she admitted she’ d spent the night with him alone.

After the funeral, her reputation, like her burned red cloak, lay scattered in ashes. Her mother and father cast doubtful eyes upon her, and fell silent whenever she entered the room. It was as if they couldn’t even recognize their own daughter.

She knew it wouldn’t have made a difference if she denied the rumors. An unmarried girl had no voice.

So it was that Little Red, who was neither little nor dressed in red, steadied her pack on her shoulder. She passed by the blacksmith, who turned away as she walked, head held high.

She didn’t stop until she reached the path leading out of the village, and found her Woodcutter waiting for her.

“Hungry?” He passed her a jam jar and she smiled, barely giving it a glance as she looked at him.

“Famished.”

And so the two wolves left the starving village for the woods that lay beyond.

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