𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - truthfully

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 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 having a crisis.

 Now, to anybody else, it would have seemed very dramatic to label his situation as a critical one. Robin had said as much on the phone all the while keeping her eyes on Scarlet who flitted around Family Video readjusting crooked movies and shelves...

 But Steve was descending into madness. It had been just over a month since the Battle of Starcourt, a month since everything had been resolved, and a month since everything had crumbled.

 The one good thing to come out of the tragedy was their relationship... and Steve, three days ago, had finally realised that he'd never taken his girlfriend out on a date. They'd just fallen into the role of girlfriend and boyfriend so seamlessly that it felt as though nothing had changed at all. They were still best friends, he still blushed like a little kid, and she still teased him relentlessly... the biggest difference was that steve Harrington could now steal kisses from the prettiest girl he'd ever known.

 So to realise that he hadn't taken her on a date had almost sent him six feet under. Robin had, of course, scoffed at his dismay and claimed that Scarlet didn't need all the dramatics, she just wanted him.

 But while Steve would have happily agreed and called it a day... he wanted to do this. He wanted to take her on a date... so when Robin had shrugged and said 'Dingus, she'd appreciate a movie night more than some fancy schmancy restaurant.' Steve had heeded her words.

 She was right. Scarlet Hopper had become quite the movie buff thanks to the friends and family discount Robin would give her. Scarlet spent her days watching fantastical films with knights and wizards with Will, she'd watch the grimiest horror movies imaginable with Max and Erica...

 But Steve wanted a piece of him in that little idea too. A movie night had made the cut, but it needed to be better than the usual nights they'd drape themselves in sweaters and sweatpants, mould themselves together on the couch, and blink through a sleepy daze as a movie came to a close.

 So... that's how Steve Harrington's living room had become draped with twinkling fairy lights — courtesy of one Robin Buckey who'd spent an entire afternoon plucking and peeling them from her bedroom walls.

 Candles were alight, flickering through the darkness he'd plunged the room within, and a box of steaming pizza was atop the coffee table... and, of course, there were two chocolate milkshakes with sprinkles and cherries on top. Just the way Scarlet adored them.

 But now, with nothing to busy his hands and nothing to do except stare at the watch snug on his wrist, Steve began to panic. He'd never done something this simple before. It had always been dinner with a candle in the centre because that's what those other girls had wanted. Actually, what they had wanted... was King Steve, not Steve Harrington.

 That's why his stomach was alight with fluttering butterflies and his skin abuzz with nerves; nobody had ever wanted Steve Harrington before. He almost didn't know what to do or say anymore; he'd never been on a date as himself before.

 He just had to keep reminding himself that Scarlet had fallen for him. She hadn't even known King Steve... thank God.

 He sucked in a breath, hands already growing clammy. Then the door opened.

 "Hey! Sorry I'm late! Robin was being kinda weird — not that that's anything new for her but — Oh..."

 Scarlet hadn't really been paying attention as she slammed her car door shut, and hopped up the Harrigton's path. Her arms were laden with new movies to share with Will, Max and Eleven, not to mention the boatload of snacks that Robin had tossed her way.

 She'd been acting strange, Robin that is. From sly little grins to scurrying to keep Scarlet busy. The former ice cream slinger had even forgone her break... which was absurdly out of character for Robin Buckley.

 Now, as Scarlet finally blinked and tore her eyes away from her strawberry-printed socks now freed from her shoes... she understood why. There Steve was standing, looking as pretty to her as ever. There was something sheepish, and even shy, about the little and awkward smile on his face. His cheeks were steadily growing pinker as the seconds ticked by.

 He looked cosy. From the pale blue sweater keeping his arms and torso warm — it was actually one of her favourites, along with the bright yellow one she'd brought for him — to the patterned socks that disappeared past his cuffed jeans. He was twiddling with his own fingers, clearly itching to run them through his already messy hair.

 The most striking part of him, in Scarlet's opinion, was the fact that he had his glasses on.

 Steve Harrington resented the things. If he had to deal with the blur in his eye rather than deal with his glasses sliding down the slop of his nose, he would... and don't even get him started on contacts.

 Scarlet, however, thought he looked incredibly attractive with his spectacles sat on his pretty face.

 She had noticed their surroundings, of course she had, but Scarlet would always find her eyes falling straight to Steve. It was like muscle memory.

 There were fairy lights interwoven around the room, each one twinkling... They were Robins, Scarlet knew this because of the singular green bulb she'd had to replace on one of the strings. Steve had asked robin for help, and the thought sent her heart fluttering.

 The candles on the table flickered, illuminating the pizza and... chocolate milkshakes. Steve had even gotten one for himself, instead of picking his usual cup of sweetened strawberry.

 Scarlet could feel her cheeks beginning to hurt, and her dimples were crawling ever deeper, "You did this?"

 He shrugged, "The lights are —"

 "— Robins," Scarlet nodded, gently placing her bag against the door, "You asked her for help?"

 Steve breathed through trembling lips, yet he found his panic had begun to simmer away. The look in her eyes was the very same one he'd search for whenever he mutter those three little words. They showed that she loved him... and now they were glittering, candlelight bringing them a shade higher.

 "Well..." Steve began, almost tripping over his feet as he approached, meeting her halfway, "I realised that I've never taken you on a date, and I just... I just wanted to do something nice for you."

 She whispered his name in that voice, and Steve could have fallen to his knees, "Steve, you know you don't have to impress me, don't you? I'm happy with you. Just you. That's all I need."

 He struggled to speak, feeling as though he'd swallowed his babbling tongue. Those words... he'd waited his entire life to hear them. Just you. That's all I need.

 He tried to brush it off, but to Scarlet, Steve was easy to see through. Scarlet reached out, warm fingertips trailing over his hand, scooping his digits into her own. He might have done everything for her, the lights, the candles and food... but Scarlet knew it was for him too... not the date, but the affirmations of care. The promise of being needed and loved.

 "Hey," She muttered, and with a touch as light and as soft as a delicate little feather, Scarlet brushed her lips against his own, "I mean it." She whispered into his lips, "Just you."

 He sighed. A breath so heavy that Scarlet pulled away, eyes narrowed in utter concern. He knew that Scarlet could read him like a book, that she knew he was... well, insecure about almost everything. But she'd never heard it from his lips.

 "Every date I've been on... it's always to kinda set the mood, you know — not like that." Steve could have pitched himself from his bedroom window. Why did anybody ever let him speak? But Scarlet only nodded him on, carefully guiding him to the couch beside them, "It made it easier to pretend to be what they wanted, you know? They wanted King Steve, and so I took them where King Steve would go, I did what was expected of him. That's all I knew how to do."

 "Look at me." Scarlet understood him; She knew exactly how King Steve had come to be; his parents had raised a boy that lacked love... yet craved it. So he moulded himself into his father, a man adored by everybody around him.

 He became a shadow, following in his father's footsteps as he wooed and charmed girls. As he took them to fancy dinners and then took them home after... But Scarlet hadn't known that boy, if she had, she'd have likely slapped his cheek, and told him to stop being an ass... and they'd probably still end up right where they are now.

 When Steve met her eyes, his own drooping like a sad little puppy, she cast her thumb over his cheek with the barest of movements, "This is perfect. Movies and food... and you and me. I don't care where we are; we could visit that stupid rock —" Steve pouted at her, "— or some fancy restaurant, and I'd be grateful. I'd be happy. As long as you're right there with me, okay?"

 His head bobbed, slowly tipping forwards until it landed upon her shoulder. He could have stayed there forever, breathing in the vanilla staining her skin, relishing in the fingers that slowly wove their way into his hair...

 Scarlet truly believed if she smothered one more piece of pepperoni pizza into her mouth, she'd explode.

 Chocolate milkshakes had been sufficiently drained — Steve had pouted around his straw, acting as though he was swallowing the fires of hell themselves... But secretly, he really did enjoy the syrupy-sweet shake that Scarlet couldn't go a day without.

 Now, the two young teenagers were a mess of limbs atop Steve Harrington's living room couch. He'd splayed himself over it, arms and legs draped like a blanket until Scarlet had slivered her way atop. Her head was against his chest, paying far more attention to his stuttering heart than the dull drone of a movie in the background... and unbeknownst to her, Steve wasn't really paying attention either.

 There was something Scarlet wanted to do... or, rather, say.

 To most, Steve stepping forth and finally announcing the fact that he would always play pretend and puppeteer the strings attached to his own body would have seemed rather dull and quite obvious. But Scarlet knew how much it meant for him to finally admit it aloud, to let someone know how much he'd been struggling with his own self-esteem... She wanted to do that. Scarlet wanted to confess.

 She needed somebody to know everything, somebody who was able to understand and not scorn her for the things she'd had to do.

 It was terrifying.

 But if Steve had done one thing in the time she'd known him... he'd made her feel safe. He'd made her feelings safe. So if anyone was to know the whole sad little story, Scarlet couldn't think of anyone better to confide in, than Steve.

 Kali was the only other one, her sister that she'd left behind. Scarlet missed her, even if their differences had been so very stark... because now, after everything, Scarlet and Kali were more alike than ever.

 But that wasn't a hole she wanted to get sucked into, not now.

 "Stevie?" She murmured, words slurred as though she'd knocked back a few drinks... but it was just the filled belly and sugar in her veins.

 He'd hardly heard her, words mumbled into his shirt. Steve hummed, "Yeah?"

 "Can I tell you something?"

 "Always, you know that."

 Scarlet peeled herself from him, immediately feeling a shiver trailing the length of her spine as Steve's hands fell limp against the couch, "This is different."

 As ever, Steve Harrington was ready to listen. He followed her, sitting up even despite the ache in his back... he scooched backwards, Scarlet still seated atop his legs. There was nothing but curiousity chewing away at him; Scarlet Hopper wasn't know for sharing her feelings — much like himself.

 With his eyes settled firmly upon her own, his fingers gently prying her fiddling ones apart, Scarlet swallowed the hesitance beginning to flood her body, "I want to tell you about my life after I escaped."

 "You don't have to —"

 "— I want to." Scarlet's eyebrows closed together. Where did she begin? How could she begin? With the words on the edge of her tongue, she couldn't help but think what if?

 What if he was mortified?

 What if he was disgusted?

 What if he left?

 "Okay," His voice broke her free of that ringing in her ears, and silenced the shadows on the walls whispering her greatest fears, "I'm listening."

 "When I escaped... not long after, I found a home. A family took me in —" Scarlet rather aptly left Kali out of her story. For while Scarlet's trust within Steve knew no bounds, it wasn't her place. Her sister deserved that privacy, she deserved to tell the story herself, " ​— They looked after me for quite a while... until they found out what I could do.

 You know how afraid I am of people —" Scarlet almost choked, a flash of her father right before her eyes, "Of people leaving me. They did. They sent me on my way with what they could, but they still left me. I couldn't have been older than... than fourteen, maybe, when I realsied that I had the means to make myself money... to find a place to stay for the night."

 This was the hardest part. To recall the mouths on her skin, the fingers trailing her thighs and pinching at places they shoukdn't have. She'd made the choice to make things... easier... in a sense. She could have lived alone on a cold street, begging and pleading for money to feed herself and Kali... but it would have taken too long.

 Kali had already started to steal, to harm for what little lined peoples pockets. Scarlet didn't want that for her, and so she had made the choice.

 Steve hadn't quite caught on, and it was the one time Scarlet didn't want to explain something to him. She could already feel her throat constricting. Her clothes felt tighter. Her skin was scorching. She couldn't breathe.

 Scarlet scrambled from Steve's lap. The thought of those people, their touches... she didn't want that to taint what she felt when Steve's hands gripped her waist, what she felt when his fingertips graced her cheeks.

 Steve would have followed, chasing the worry if Scarlet hadn't held up a hand... it was like she wa sbegging him to stay right where she was.

 "It was all..." She tried again, "Consensual."

 That was when it hit him.

 "I chose to do that. To —" She laughed, but there ws no mirth to be found. Just utter misery, "To sell myself. It's why I can't — Why we haven't —"

 He didn't touch her, but Steve did rise from the couch. His eyes had a haze cast over them, one in which caused his glasses to fog. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut... Steve didn't care that she'd done what she did; it wasn't his place to care. What did care about... was how much she was trying to reason with him, when there was absolutely no need to.

 "Scarlet." He never said her name. It was always Scar, always. "You don't need to explain that. You never need to explain that. The second you say no, all thoughts of that are gone. In an instant. I care about you, I love you. We don't ever have to — I'd be perfectly happy just getting to stare at your pretty face every day. That's more than enough for me. It always will be."

 She loved him for that. She loved him for everything, really... but the problem was that she wanted to.

 In those nights where she'd begin things she knew she couldn't finish, Scarlet wished she could overcome the nausea in her gut, the feeling of false touches on her skin but it all became too much, and she'd mutter out the same word. Stop.

 She wasn't naive enough to think she'd just get over things, that wasn't how things worked... but she was trying, and not even for Steve. When she'd reach for his hand and place it at the very top of her thigh... that was Scarlet testing herself, trying to see if she had moved past a certain hurdle.

 But Scarlet wasn't patient... what she was... was, well... that was pretty obvious when she'd pull Steve close and steal the breath from his lungs, or sliding her naughty little fingers up his chest.

 It was frustrating, battling with two very contrasting feelings within oneself.

 Steve waited for her as she battled with those thoughts. He watched as she paced, as her eyes scanned the room... and when they landed on him once more, he'd made sure here was a soft smile awaiting her. She deflated instantly.

 Scarlet sucked in a breath that pulled her chest forth... then exhaled like a deflating balloon, "I'm trying — and before you tell me that you're already getting ready to swear yourself to celibacy —" Steve snorted, "I'm not trying for you. I mean... maybe a little, but I want to take back the control I lost, for me. I don't want to be afraid of you, or anyone, just because of something in my past."

 Scarlet didn't back away as Steve inched closer, she didn't feel the racing of her heart any longer. His hand reached for her, and with a steady hold, she drew his fingers to her cheek, relishing in the way they felt as though they were right where they were supposed to be.

 "You, Scarlet Hopper, are the strongest person I know..."

 Scarlet's lips ticked upwards, a crooked smile sparking to life, "Even if I didn't have the woo-woo magic?"

 "Even without the woo-woo's."

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DATE: 13/12/2022

:·ﾟ★ this is a far longer oneshot than the previous two... but fuck i love it. I'm so proud of them both. please give some feedback for this one, i really am interested in what you think of my portrayal of this crucial moment.

the next oneshot (coming soon) is um... it's something I've never written before, and something i know y'all will go feral for. so please be sure to stick around for it <3

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