#I hope that Max is imaging herself playing on the beaches of California with her brother and friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steveusesfaberge · 5 years

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Sunsets Back Home (pt. i)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy longs to see a California sunset again, he misses the way the sun kisses the rim of the ocean; how the wind carries salt...how the sand feels. He doesn’t think it can ever be the same now that he’s stuck in the middle of Indiana... But...it seems in his dark days, he’s forgotten that despite where you are...the sun always sets the same. A few hours talking with little miss Y/N and he can’t help but give in to a ridiculous arrangement...too bad she can’t make it happen....or can she?

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): None really...a bit of angst (it’s Billy, c’mon now..)...lots of fluff...and...a hopeful promise to be fulfilled!

Word Count: 7k

a/n: I thought of this on a whim!~ I decided that Hargrove needed a lil’ more love because that boy is....so much more than what people cookie-cut him to be <3 (sorry it’s a bit long, got carrrieddddd awayyyy...<3)

Also...that wink in that gif...hadddd meee weakkkkkkkkk -- WEAK; I say!

Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! I have many stories coming out soon, as I’ve got burs/ideas of them written out and ready to be flushed out and made reality! Can’t wait! I wish there was more time in the day..what can ya do? What can you do...<3

Part 1 (you are here) - Part 2 - Part 3

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Most wouldn’t think it, but he liked sunsets. Yes - the Billy Hargrove - enjoyed witnessing the sight of what most would consider; sentimental and considerate. The dance of light finally meeting its downfall finding solace in the horizon and touch of land as a welcoming embrace. Yes, Billy enjoyed them. If you spoke anything about it though - you’d surely never be able to speak again - he’d make sure of it...(that classic Hargrove style of his).

Back in California, he’d drive down the winding roads linning the coast; to one of the many piers, or find a nice, withdrawn, abandoned stretch of beach and watch the sun dip into the water; simmering with the last lights of day. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of sand underfoot, the sounds of tranquility, and the sight of such a beautiful phenomenon...how could one not love it?

He found himself at peace when watching the great ball of flames and gases have its own tragedy - reminding him that everyone and everything has its own weaknesses; its own flaws. Reminding him that even with those flaws, the sun is still able to rise once again - banishing the darkness of night to the corners of the world. An endless, honorable cycle.

He knew that even if his father’s heart was made of what the sun chased away - Billy could still wake up each morning and go on living. Sitting in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandered back to The Golden State.

He had a cigarette hung loosely from the corner of his mouth, one hand on his chest, the other jaded off the side of his bed. He was in a plain, white tank top, accompanied by denim jeans hanging shyly off his hips. His door was shut and there wasn’t anything he wanted to do on this early evening besides brood in his own thoughts and emotions.

Hawkins, Indiana was nothing like California...nothing like it. They didn’t have beaches - not the kind Billy was looking for (lakesides didn’t count, they didn’t carry the same grand-gestures or even the vast mileage of just...ocean). It was drab, cold, and shit always seemed to be lurking around every damn turn. Hawkins didn’t have the same style as Cali either - with its energy, the air of freedom... Here, Billy felt trapped. Suffocated. Alone. Nothing. He felt nothing here.

They say home is where the heart is, but Billy forgot long ago what such a phrase meant. Throughout his years, he found that if you gave away such a vulnerability, you’d only end up stabbing yourself in the back. People were not to be trusted, because they were snakes who had venom dripping down their fingertips, hiding in the grasses ready to strike a weak heart down without a second thought. A handshake was a deathwish, and a smile was worse.

Home is where the heart is - to Billy this meant: you cannot trust anyone, because if home is where the heart is - your heart is in your own goddamn chest -- and who else better to trust than yourself? Yes. That was the motto of a lifetime.

And Hawkins...Hawkins...was not home, to begin with. There was nothing to keep him here (besides...begrudgingly...Max, he knew he wasn’t always kind to her, but...he needed her to learn to never rely on someone else, because it would only end up in tears and disappointment. If she knew how to keep herself guarded and hold a level mind...he’d say success to his job as an older brother). He’d always felt alone, even back home...but...now? Billy had nowhere to go. Nowhere at all. Home being miles away from...here.

There wasn’t a California sunset waiting for him at the end of the road; just some crappy gas station adjacent to downtown Hawkins. At the end of the paved road, all Billy could see was his own violence, longing, frustration...he figured driving slowly would only prolong those feelings within him. So he drove fast. Always, always driving fast. If it was all a blur around him, maybe he’d forget who he was and where he was...

Because God...all he wanted was to be found...maybe if he drove fast enough, wished hard enough...someone would see him. The pitiful man he’d become - and they’d see he needed someone...anyone...just...a hand to hold, a heart to love, and a mind to cherish.

And as they say; (though Billy thinks they say a lot of things...can’t they shut the hell up and mind their own goddamn business?) there is more to life than simply increasing in speed. Billy hoped someone would stop him one day. Ask him why he was driving so recklessly...he’d only ask them a question in return. Did I lose the road yet? If they told him no; he’d sigh. I guess I’ll have to be faster then.

Knock, knock, knock.

It came in threes, followed by a soft, even tone. “Billy...can you take me to El’s house?” Max’s voice was heard from behind the door, only muffled to a slight distortion. He rolled his eyes; he wasn’t doing anything - but...the silence of collecting his own mind was more than enough to be doing for an entire decade. It would keep anyone busy if they decided to take a look in that head of his.

“Yeah, yeah - whatever. Just be ready by the time I’m out the door or your ass can walk for all I care.” He heard a soft okay and her gentle footsteps were gone. He wondered briefly if Max too felt alone - but...the images of her smiling and laughing with her friends...that...that was all the family she needed, besides she had Susan (his step-mother) as well, it wasn't like she was completely on her own...He was there too... Billy wiped a troubled simper from his lips, throwing the butt of his joint out the window.

He slid his boots on, grabbed his car keys, and slung his leather jacket over his left shoulder. “C’mon, Max!” He yelled down the hall while tapping his sunglasses down.

The drive was quiet. It always was. Maybe it was because Maxine couldn’t ever speak above the music Billy played, or maybe she just didn’t have anything in particular to say; not to him anyway. He didn’t mind. Her presence was enough.

He slammed on the breaks, and out of the corner of his eyes, catching the redhead brace herself readily (she’d been in a car with him enough times that his driving was more than normal). He watched her climb out, carrying a small bag with her. He raised an eyebrow in question, fingers rapping the steering wheel.

“She asked if I could sleepover,” Max explained while holding a hand up to close the passenger door. He gave a curt nod. “Call me--,” “Yeah, yeah, I know...if I need something or whatever.” He wondered if Max thought he said that out of mockery and habit. Billy meant it...despite how he may sling it, as much as he’d hate to admit it - he’d be back here in less than six minutes if she asked...

He watched her knock on the door, and expecting to see the sheriff - he was greeted with a face he’d never seen before. Leaning forward in his seat, he tilted his head in slight curiosity, not really caring if it was odd he was still parked outside.

His window was open, and their conversation flowed through with ease. He even turned down the radio a few notches; to make sure he didn’t miss a single note.

“Hey, Max! You here for El?” the y/c/h haired girl chipped, holding the door open.

“Yeah! Are you babysitting tonight?” Mayfield asked hopefully.

“Yup, Hop asked me to -- he’s got a late shift at the station, I think,” the young woman explained.

Billy wasn’t quite sure who this was, but he could tell Max was well acquainted. She looked roughly his age - she’d probably gone to Hawkins High without him even noticing; Hargrove rarely ever forgot a pretty face - especially if it had been hers (names, sure - but he remembered their face at least)...he’d have known if they’d met before.

She had y/l/h y/c/h hair, and from what he could make out - y/c/e eyes that seemed excited to see his little sister. He wondered who this babysitter was. So, instead of leaving right away, as he usually did - he killed the engine, the music freezing abruptly - both heads turning just as Max was entering the house.

“Does uh, your brother need something?” Y/N asked while tilting her head, looking down at the younger female.

“Beats me, he never really sticks around this long,” Max didn’t waste much breath on it - not really caring what Billy wanted. Disappearing into the cabin a second later, calling for El.

The y/e/c-eyed girl stepped outside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “Hey! It’s Billy, right?” She greeted kindly while walking to meet him at the front porch’s steps. Of course, she knew who he was...No one knew his name without his face to match (not a face like his anyway...and certainly not a name like his).

Sure, she’d seen him a few times when dropping Max off - or picking her up. A few more times around the halls at school, and at the basketball games (almost all of them to be truthful)...and once at the pool (deciding to hide instead of being caught by the particular lifeguard).

“Glad you know the name, do I get the pleasure of yours?” Y/N was taken back by his wave of...charm and confidence. She’d seen him around school, philandering up a storm; walking like he owned the place...but...that didn’t matter anymore, because they were both graduated. There shouldn’t be a single title to his name; other than Billy Hargrove. No, Billy The New King, or Boy Toy Billy, or even The Billy Hargrove...as of now - he was just Billy Hargrove...the kid dropping off Max for a sleepover.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N,” she offered, leaning against one of the support pillars holding up the roof over the porch.

“L/N? By chance, you have a--,” “Brother? Yeah, he used to play basketball with you for the school.” Y/N filled in for him. She wondered if he had ever realized that she’d been to all their games, had seen Billy play, and how much of a commotion he made when he got fouled...(she’d laugh about it on the car ride home, her brother only rolling his eyes telling her that if Hargrove ever found out you make fun of him - he’d have your neck).

Billy had no knowledge of this, he didn’t think L/N had a sibling - let alone a sister as attractive as the girl before him. How come he’d never heard him talk about her? Not even a hint of lockerroom talk from any of the other boys either...

“Who knew little Davy was hiding you at home,” he chuckled while lifting one foot to rest on the second step of the porch. Leaning back on his grounded leg, hands in his jacket pockets. He looked like a god on earth and Y/N could understand why David told her to stay away from him. All he cares about is alcohol, sex, and his own skin, Y/N/N -- don’t even think about bringing him home. She’d never believed all of it - well, some of it...from first-hand experiences of watching him have girls fall to their knees with just a wink... Nonetheless, Y/N liked to judge a character for herself - which was why she got along with the party so well -- she lives next door to Henderson for Christ’s sake! She can smell the geek on him...(not that Y/N cared, she’d often go to his house and just hang out with the kid - seeing as he was an only child, and his darling mother worked most of the time. Y/N was an avid babysitter for him - a good friend of Harrington’s at that; which explained why Dustin had a hard time deciding who was his favorite sitter; he told Steve it was him...but...he was really only protecting the brunette’s, dainty heart).

“Ha, well -- little Davy -- is literally, the most overprotective guy, you’ll ever meet,” she explained with a shake of her head and a good-natured sigh. The number of boys David had run off “for” her...He wasn’t any good! He was looking at your ass! I just don’t like him! He was acting out of line... If he saw Y/N now - talking to Billy Hargrove, the catch of them all...he’d have had a heart attack for sure.

Billy only nodded, he understood why. The same reason that he cared for Max in his own way...what did they call it? -- Brotherly love.

He fancied the way Y/N could pull off a solid grey T-shirt like she was wearing Ralph Lauren - preparing to walk the runway. He liked her casual air...a lot.

“Well, seeing as you’re still here - is there something you need?” Y/N asked while trying to steer the attention away from herself and back to the topic of babysitting El and Max (she had a strange feeling that Hargrove didn’t just come here to make sure his little sister went to bed on time).

“Just wanted to see who’d be watching Max for me,” he shrugged earnestly. He ran a hand along his chin and the dirty-blond pushed back a few curls from his view. “Glad to see she’d be in good hands.”

The conversation carried on longer than Y/N and Billy both thought it would, he ended up coming inside when it got dark.

He was sitting at the small kitchen table, the distance so short, if he reached out his hand, Billy could grab Y/N’s. The girls were in El’s room - intimations of laughter would bubble up every now and then, allowing for both Billy and Y/N to breathe easy that both were okay and not doing anything troublesome (so they assumed).

“So, you just expect me to believe...that?” she snorted while shaking her head, using her hands as if to push away the thought and the words he’d spoken, back to where they’d come from.

Billy was leaning in his chair -- slouched -- having one arm resting on the tabletop, the other hung over the back of his seat. He shared a smile with her (and damn did he have a nice smile...whether it was fake or not, Y/N found herself staring for a second too long. Even with the sneaky wink he’d shoot her when he noticed her gaze - she still felt that Billy was being...genuine), while lightly drumming his fingers on the table. His left leg was bouncing up and down...up and down...Billy was clearly the jittery, go-go-go type.

“I’m for real! She didn’t even realize she’d left without them!” He chimed, noting the way Y/N’s y/c/h hair was held back messily with a polka-dotted scrunchie; thinking it was kinda cute how she held such a childish essence.

“But...they were her underwear!” Y/N sputtered, lowering her voice as she spoke, pulling a hand to her lips in obvious disbelief.

Billy shrugged, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “What can I say? One night with me and you’ll forget your own damn name, sweetheart.” Oh, he was smooth...

Y/N had so far taken him as a flirty guy - but she’d also noticed he’d listen when she spoke. He’d give her all his attention, and it washed her in a sense of simple understanding. He’d not be a step out of line when not necessary, and he hadn’t raised his voice once (like he was oh-so infamous for).

Yet, Y/N was reminded by the small voice in her head, that he had almost killed Steve and Lucas only last year...and she recalled the multitude of fights and parties Billy’d pick and crash; sleeping with anything with legs and a pretty face...remembering the distaste the majority of the party held for him (she’d even comforted Max once when she was frustrated with the said boy, claiming that he was just the worst to live with - so moody, so cold, and hateful of everything).

It shocked her honestly, to see Billy act so...normal. It kept her on edge, curious to see if this was just a facade or his charm acting up - assuming those old habits would die hard with him.

“What’re they doing out there?” Max questioned while pressing her ear to the door. She’d heard laughing and talking, and when she and El realized Y/N had invited Billy in - and he’d accepted it...both were left suspicious and confused. Max had expected Billy to burn rubber as he left, the second she got out of the car, heck, he’d have done it with her half-way in. So, she was more than astonished to see he’d come in the damn house.

They were both pressed to the door, trying to understand why Billy was being so...weird. “He better not try anything with her,” Max grumbled while listening to her brother’s hearty chuckles - narrowing her eyes at the sound. Max couldn’t tell if he were being serious or not, his charm held such a captivating lure...no one was safe.

“Maybe he likes her.” Eleven’s honesty had always shocked Max and the gang. She always spoke her mind, and always had something to say with such heart and interest (of course, she knew that El wasn’t the most versed in speaking, but she could speak well enough by now).

“Maybe...,” Max offered lightly, her eyes dodging to the girl,” But Billy doesn’t like girls - he doesn’t like people, for that matter! Not like that anyway,” The redhead explained, only partially listening to the conversation held between the two eighteen-year-olds about Billy’s job as a lifeguard. She was too fixed on but Billy Hargrove hates getting to know people...Billy Hargrove hates small talk and cuts to the chase of whatever he does...Billy Hargrove hates going slow...

“Maybe it’s different this time,” El proposed while offering a shrugged solution, lifting a hand to scratch her neck.

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure you wanna go now, Billy? It’s really la--,” “It’s fine, dollface. This isn’t my first time driving in the dark, L/N,” he chuckled as he stood himself to full height. His sunglasses now hanging from the collar of his tank top.

Y/N frowned, playing with her fingers as she glanced outside the nearest window. “Yeah...but...it’s...really dark, and the road here is like - at this weird angle - you know? Like, right where you turn in to get to Hop’s cabin? Yo--,” “If you wanted me to stay. You could’ve just asked.” He cut through her rambling, smiling to himself as he watched Y/N’s face paint pink at his “humor-filled” suggestion.

“O-oh! I mean...I...uh..It did kinda sound like that,” Y/N offered sheepishly, not believing her own feeble-minded mistake (saying such a thing in front of him...of course, he’d take it as...an offer...). That hadn’t been her intention, she just wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of Hargrove driving blindly without a proper road, save for dirt cut through the woods...

Billy only waited, watching her; arms crossing over his broad chest. “You want me here or not? Make up your mind, princess...I can’t just stand here forever.” His tone was teasing, and yet, it was sincere in the oddest way. Y/N bit her lip and glanced around the small cabin, trying to decide what to do with this...rather sticky situation. The girls had long gone to bed - Y/N had peaked in for a check-up, and found them asleep on the floor for some reason...by the door at that. (Billy had been kind enough to carry each to the bed and help Y/N tuck them in, seeing as she wasn’t apt enough to do it as effortlessly as he. She was thrown off to see him so willing and so helpful for someone who Max described as senseless and selfish).

“Um...,” she brushed past him, Billy eyeing her as she did, wondering what she was up to - turning to watch her step to the couch. “This pulls out into a bed - I know that ‘cause Hop lets me stay here a lot.” Y/N confessed a bit shyly.

Billy was so surprised to hear that, that he didn’t even fight her while she was casually offering him to spend the night. “You...stay here...a lot?”

“Oh...uh, since Davy left to Virginia for college, the house is...kinda..ummm...lonely,” she admitted softly. Now that, had Hargrove stunned. He was surprised to hear that leave her lips as a follow-up.

“What about the rest of your family?” He asked while walking over to help Y/N remove the cushions from the pull-out. He was interested in her response, Billy hadn’t known the L/N estate was...lonesome.

Y/N pulled the left seat off and plopped it to the floor. “The only person there is my aunt - but she works....like...a lot. So, I don’t see her very often. She’s a businesswoman or something like that.” Y/N told while struggling to pull the actual pull-out bed from its original placement. “Here, let me do it.” Billy offered.

He didn’t even break a sweat...usually Hopper grunted in inconvenience, as the stubborn old thing was always a bit finicky - it seemed those muscles of Billy’s weren’t just for show (Y/N had presumed they helped him pick up chicks or just to be manly). She thanked him, and then shuffled down the short hallway, looking for the pillows and blankets - Hop usually had them in the closet in his bedroom.

“You home alone most of the time?” Billy asked while following her a bit awkwardly - not really knowing if she’d need help again, nor knowing what to do with himself still there. He hadn’t expected...well...any of this to happen. He was hoping to snag Y/N’s number and leave, or even persuade her to ditch the babysitting and come home with him...(the options had been endless in his mind...Billy supposed he just hadn’t thought of this being one of them).

Y/N didn’t really tell people about her absent home life - from what she knew, she had it easy (she’d heard a few stories from Max...and it had her heart twist for Billy). Y/N was surprised she was so easy to tell him (of all people) - maybe it was just the heat of the moment...

“Yeah - well, since Davy’s gone now - and my aunt doesn’t come back for weeks on end...it’s just me,” Billy admired how she could say such a sad thing without faltering - in fact, he thought the smile on her face was too gently worn for such words.

“Oh, I have a cat named Lolly...-- but I know you meant...like...real company,” Y/N added with a soft laugh. Finding the spare pillows and blankets on the top shelf in the sliding door closet (Hop’s rather messy closet, that is) she reached up on her tiptoes to seize them.

Getting a hold, Y/N passed them down to Billy who stood behind her (closer than she’d like to admit, and closer than Billy realized). He chuckled.

“You sayin’ Lolly isn’t real company? That’s harsh,” he joked.

Y/N could only giggle - she didn’t take Hargrove as the...witty type. She expected a poke about pussy-cats or something lude, she almost felt shameful for how much she undermined him.

“She’s good enough I suppose...likes to hide more times than not though, so really...I’m the victim here.” Billy only offered a crooked grin.

“There, you’re all set up!” Y/N announced, clapping her hands together at the finalized work. Billy was standing a few feet to her left, an eyebrow raised as he glanced over the mismatch pillowcases and random maroon comforter - along with a few other sheets that clearly didn’t make a set. Not that Hargrove was complaining, he had learned to take blessings in life with ease; as they were rarely given out and when they were, they didn’t last long).

He ran a hand down his chin, nodding at their so-called quick thinking and handy-work (as Y/N placed it). “Okay...and where are you sleeping? Hopper’s room?” Y/N hadn’t thought about that...she wasn’t a fan of sleeping in a someone else’s bed (some could argue that sleeping on their couch wasn’t any different, but she begged to differ. The bedroom was a private space and she didn’t feel swell invading that).

She also wasn’t sure if she even had permission to do so - Jim was only expecting Y/N and Max to be staying the night...and not a third guest as well... (if she called him asking about it, he’d get suspicious - and as it was, Hopper treated her as a second daughter - and would drill her about who was there, and if he found out it was a boy...Hargrove at that...he’d flip his lid. Probably never trusting her again - goodness sake...Hopper would hire another babysitter for her as she watched the kids...a sitter for the sitter...).

“I um...I mean yeah...I guess,” she replied while thinking over her options thoughtfully. Hop staying the night at the station meant he’d be back by...she calculated...maybe sometime tomorrow morning. She could fix his room back the way it was, still leaving enough time for Billy to wake up reasonably and---

“Look...if it’s too much trouble, I’ll just go,” Hargrove answered quickly, seeing the slight alarm in her y/c/h eyes. As much as he’d like to stay over - he wasn’t going to stick around if he were a bother. He knew what it was like being bothersome to someone...he didn’t need to add to a new list.

To be frank, Billy himself wasn’t sure why he was being so considerate to someone else’s troubles in the first place. Normally, he’d kill to be out of the house - unsure of what mood his father was in...and how he’d react to Billy being home so late...

Maybe it was because he learned Y/N’s favorite bands were The Rolling Stones, Queen, and Guns N’ Roses (all of which, he approved of). Or that she liked talking with her hands - allowing him to be entertained as she told her stories (Billy thought it was amusing to see such excitement over something as little as that one time I fell because I missed a step and everyone saw it moment). There was also the fact that Y/N talked about Max so highly (while Billy had rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly - as he had a reputation to keep up... he was beaming to think that Y/N thought so of his little sister).

She’d also mentioned a taste for late-night drives and hating a kid named Vance Kerr back in her Junior Year (You wouldn’t know him - he moved to Ohio before you and Max came ‘round. But God...was he awful - let me tell you about this one time he--), and the time Davy and her snuck out to met with Harrington (to which Billy groaned on cue, earning a smack to the chest and a laugh. Oh, shut up, Hargrove!) for a party...

Point being...Billy didn’t do much for other people. He didn’t see a point in putting more energy than it was worth. People were disappointing; conniving; and cruel...that’s what they said about him anyway. That’s what they’d made him believe...

So, for Billy to give Y/N a soft smile - reassuring her it’d be fine if he just...drove home...it took a lot out of him. But...for her? He didn’t mind letting his reputation slip.

Standing on the front porch, arms rubbing away the chills of a summer’s night; Y/N watched as Billy strode to his car. “Billy, I really don’t--,” “Relax, princess. I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy, and fully capable of driving fifteen minutes down the road without losing my way in the dark,” he eased while chuckling. Billy’s left arm holding himself up on the side of his Camaro. While he came off calm and collected, he was truly shocked at her display of...care.

Billy didn’t think it was possible to be so sincere and endearing with someone you’d just met less than twelve hours ago. No one had ever cared enough to ask him to stay the night - not for sex - but to simply make sure he wasn’t driving in the dark...that was honestly...something...he’d consider....sweet (and he rarely used said word; You want your ego stroked? Go ask Harrington to give you a-- it was too...soft...for a guy like him to use and, or be referred to as).

“Will you be okay here with the girls?” He asked, switching the attention back to Y/N, his eyes never leaving her as he popped his driver’s door open. She stood there, leaning against the wooden pillar, arms holding her heat as close as possible before the chilled summer swept it away.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve done this plenty of times! - Though I’ll admit, sometimes I have Steve’s help - I’ll be fine, really! He’s usually only around when all the kids are with us, but I’ll be fine with these two.” Hargrove didn’t like when people talked too much (nor when they brought up Harrington), but for some reason...he didn’t mind Y/N’s rambles...he almost...enjoyed them.

Noticing the slight shiver run down her figure; Billy clicked his tongue shaking his blond head of hair - walking back in her direction. Y/N raised her eyebrows, going to question his actions - wondering if he’d decided to just spend the night instead of going home. She was tempted to crack a joke - but he stopped her.

“Here, you’ll get cold standing there like a moron,” he muttered, sliding his leather jacket around her shoulders. “Bu--,” “I’ll get it back when I pick Max up. Don’t worry, L/N,” he paused, and she swore it, that her heart skipped a beat at that smile of his. Illuminated by the soft glow of the cabin’s porch light, Billy’s skin was glowing golden and his eyes were rimmed with a glittering warmth, their blue color seeming to intensify at that moment. Hargrove’s curly hair had a golden hue - and Y/N had to blink away a faint streak of fatigue to realize that it was simply a few out of place strands and not a halo of sorts...

“No seriously, I’m just gonna go back inside--,” she was cut off again as Billy sighed, a roll of those pretty blue orbs and a tug of the coat to be more snuggly fit about her torso. His hands stilled as he fixed the collar; lingering there for a few heartbeats extra.

Billy licked his lips, glancing away from her for a short instance (but all Y/N could see was the way he bit his lip nearing the end - and the way his long eyelashes brushed his cheeks gently). “Can’t you give a dog a bone, Y/N? I’m trying to say, I wanna see you again...but you’re not lettin’ me do it!”

She was speechless. His hands slowly falling from being so close to her neck, dropping to dig into his jean pockets. “I’ll keep the jacket, Billy. Until you come back tomorrow.” He smiled at Y/N’s response - her gentle blush even evident in the dim lighting. He thought that despite having her back to the light; it really wasn’t fair - because a soft glow seemed to haunt her silhouette anyway (and that just wasn’t fair for him to have to walk away from without looking like a fool).

“Thanks, princess,” he hummed while winking, trekking back down the set of stairs and towards his car. Y/N admired the defined muscles of Billy’s arms, seeming to show-off without him even having to try. She also thought his white tank top was tastefully tight. Shape up, Y/N! You’re drooling! God...

“Oh, and Billy?” He hummed, slowly spinning back to Y/N on the balls of his feet. He was just a few steps from his (still) open car door and questioned her by cocking his eyebrow.

“I-I...I liked talking to you...,” Y/N admitted while playing with the edge of the too-long sleeves (Billy’s jacket fell down to meet her mid-thigh and it was still warm with his presence). “You’re...a...a nice guy.”

Billy only smiled, offering her a soft goodnight, Y/N, and then he was in the car - and pulling out without another word. The music still as loud as ever. Y/N only waited a minute or so before she could no longer see him - silently crossing her fingers that he’d make it home okay...

Closing the front door, she pressed her back to it, soaking in the night’s events at their truest form. She’d talked to Billy Hargrove...and it hadn’t been about sex...(he’d made a few cracks at it - but it was lighthearted nonetheless). Y/N wasn’t even sure why she offered him to stay the night; she told herself it was because she didn’t feel okay with him (or anyone) zipping down the road in the dark...but...Y/N knew there were other reasons. She wasn’t the type to invite guys to stay over; heavens no! (Steve and the boys didn’t count because they were honorary family - even Steve who she’d agree was good-looking...he was too much of a dork to even attempt flirting successfully).

Maybe it was because Billy’s favorite drink was Jolt Cola (an overly spiked energy drink, bursting with caffeine...so much, that she didn’t think it was safe for anyone to be consuming), and he liked late-night drives just as much as she did - windows rolled down, music turned up.

Or how he hadn’t interrupted her unless he had a suitable reason (like when she nervously rattled off, Billy had put a hand to hers and gently changed the subject) - staying respectfully quiet and nodding when Y/N spoke, as a sign of acknowledgment to him listening.

Maybe it was the fact that Billy had a sweet-tooth, claiming he could introduce her to the best kinds of chocolates she’d ever had...or...maybe it was because he enjoyed watching sunsets. Yeah...Y/N liked that about him.

Oh, and the other night - this was after the whole pranking Harrington thing - I saw the most beautiful sunset, like...you won’t believe how gorgeous it was! I...um...know it’s kinda stupid to...rememeber... she’d trailed off when he began chuckling under his breath. A hot new color finding her face, hands tampering with a chipped corner of the kitchen table. No, no -- I don’t mean to make you embarrassed! I...I just think it’s ironic. I...uh...like sunsets too.

When Y/N had asked Billy if he’d seen the one she was talking about, he’d only shook his head, tapping the table with his pointer. Not the sunsets here, L/N. I’m talkin’ ‘bout the ones back home in Cali. I haven’t watched a sunset since I came to this crappy little town. Y/N hadn’t taken offense; too focused on the fact that Hargrove had been missing out on such pretty moments in time - the only chance he’d get to see the sun ready itself to rest, draped in painted colors of pink, red, and orange... It happened every day, and he still managed to miss it.

God -- you’re crazy, Hargrove! What’s the difference! He’d only shaken his head, his tongue skimming the skin of his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. Billy had explained that back home, the sun was different. A California sunset is better than any skimpy one you see here, kid. I’m sure the sunset you saw, was nothing compared to the one happening three hours later in Cali.

Tightening her scrunchie (gifted to her by Eleven - promising to always wear it), Y/N pursed her lips. Well then, Hargrove - you haven’t seen everything this... ”skimpy” town has to offer. Using hand gestures she’d used air-quotes on his words - narrowing her eyes playfully.

Billy had rolled his eyes, lifting his eyebrows once in understanding, though Y/N could tell he was still unconvinced. Sure, doll. Whatever your little heart wants to believe. Y/N had then and there, decided one thing - Billy Hargrove -- I’m gonna show you the most...amazing sunset you’ve ever seen! It’ll blow those California ones out of the water! They shared a smile, Billy’s bordering smirk (at her poor attempt of a clever pun) while competing in a short staring contest. It was as if Billy was trying to have Y/N take her words back if she blinked. She hadn’t. And so he ruined the lovely moment by mentioning she could always blow something else...

Y/N tried settling down on the pull-out bed (previously set up for Billy), drawing the maroon quilt to her chin. She had the radio humming lowly in the background, as she found white-noise the most excellent way to fall asleep. Y/N lifted the jacket, still adorning her body, up to her nose. The collar smelt of cigarettes, a classic Aramis cologne, and what she could only describe as...Billy Hargrove (Y/N made a mental note to tell Billy when returning his jacket that he pulled off Aramis’ scent flawlessly...woody, with a fresh smell she couldn’t place...spiced with cinnamon maybe...and garnished with that masculine touch she thought represented Billy perfectly).

She drifted to sleep with only good thoughts of her night - hoping to prove to Hargrove that he could truly enjoy a sunset...even if it wasn’t Cali’s beach dime reflections and beauty.

Who would’ve known...Billy Hargrove enjoyed sunsets. Y/N wasn’t sure what to anticipate anymore - he’d already thrown all of her expectations out the window (and of course, she’d thought some of it was simply for appeal...as he was notorious for flirting, to which by now, Y/N suspected him to have perfected it - she did not deny him that). Either way, it made her smile as she fell asleep, thinking it possible she had Billy Hargrove all wrong...

The drive home was quiet. Though it was always quiet. Billy didn’t have someone to talk to - the melodies of music being his only company. He was speeding down the road, nodding his head lightly to Scoprions ‘You Rock Like A Hurricane’ as it lulled the night’s silence to something more his pace.

He was rewinding and replaying his night spent with Y/N... Puffing an air of smoke out from his lungs - he held his hand out the window to get rid of the ash (he didn't like getting it in his car after all).

She was unpredictable. Absolutely someone Billy wouldn’t have given the time of day if they’d met in a different situation (and if it hadn’t been Y/N that he’d met, it wouldn’t have been worth a single breath - he’d be certain of it).

Y/N had this...enchanting air surrounding her - leaving Billy with more questions than answers. He wanted to ask about how she felt - now that David was gone...how did she...feel...being home...alone. And if she didn’t mind; he wanted to ask her - shaking her by her shoulders either for the truth - or for an answer of how? How she managed to be okay with being alone... weren’t nights dark and days indifferent? Y/N had mentioned staying at Hopper’s house more times than not - so maybe being alone bothered her more than she led on. If so...they had more in common than he’d originally pinned her for.

Billy would also criticize what Y/N thought was a good sunset. Throughout their talk, he’d learned that she had never left Hawkins - not once in her lifetime. He’d been floored. So..you’ve like...never...been to the beach? She had bashfully said no. God, you would love the beaches in Cali! Our house was like...on the beach...and surfing -- wait, don’t say you haven’t even thought about it before?! Y/N had only rolled her eyes, grin on her lips as she reminded him where they were. She was admiring the way he seemed to lit up like a little kid at the topic of something he really loved. No beaches around here, Hargrove. I’ve never even dreamed about it. Billy had promised, then and there - that he’d one day, take her to the beach to teach her to surf. And as a payment...I suppose you’d need to wear a bathing suit...I like the color red, by the way, L/N. He just had to go there.

In return, Y/N had promised him the most amazing sunset he’d ever lay eyes on. I’m gonna hold you to that, L/N. He’d teased. Oh, I won’t disappoint, Hargrove! On my word! Why he even told her his interest in gentle dying evenings was beyond Billy... He had never told anyone; as it’d totally throw off his image of being this badass, chick-magnet, with no regrets or regards...mainly because desolate failure who missed his old home, dragging daddy issues wherever he went, who also squealed at sunsets didn’t have a ring to it, nor did it fit...

Now pulling up outside his house, Billy cut the engine quickly, his music having already been turned down to a low muted static. Neil wasn’t a fan of Billy’s favored engine roars and revving. Getting out of the midnight blue Camaro, he stepped out his cig and made his way down the busted walk-way in easy silence.

Slipping into the house undetected was a blessing, and he was able to make it to his room without any issues. Kicking his shoes off, he stripped to his boxers. Laying on the bedsheets with nothing but the ceiling to look at...Billy wondered how Y/N was seriously going to pull off a sunset better than California’s.

Billy still believed that leaving your heart carelessly on your sleeves would only result in disaster...but, he was reminded that he’d given his entire jacket away - so screw the sleeves...he had neither.

He could only hope Y/N spared him that...mercy was the gift of a genuine soul...and good God...he hoped she was forgiving - because Billy wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he’d found himself slowly letting his guard down. All of that time spent building it up - brick by brick with stones of malice and contempt.

All that being threatened by a lonely girl with a grey T-shirt and a polka-dotted hair-tie...topped off with (a now) sick leather jacket.

“This damn sunset better be worth it, L/N,” Billy mumbled to the darkness. Lord knows how she’d have answered such a remark.

Falling asleep, Billy thought it possible he had Y/N L/N all wrong...

Sooooo~ what do you think about part 1 of Sunsets Back Home? I wasn’t planning on it being a possibly two-parter (or three), but here I am...XD

Part 2 anyone? <3

Tag List: @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @billyhargrovescigarette

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things #billy hargrove stranger things #dacre montgomery

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years

Text

Until we say goodbye || two

Warning! This multipart story takes place after the events of season 3. There’s huge spoilers already in the synopsis down below. I warned you.

Synopsis: (Y/N) Hargrove has to come to terms with the fact that her twin brother is dead and she had to watch him die, unable to do anything about it. There is something she can do for him now though and that’s keeping a promise. The promise to go back home to California. Together. In order to drive cross country and spread Billy’s ashes in a place where the Hargrove kids used to be happy, (Y/N) enlists the help of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who decides that it’s time to break out from his parents expectations and be the person he always wanted to be.

This time on “Until we say goodbye”: The teens stay at a quirky motel. Steve talks to mama Harrington and (Y/N) give us a look into her childhood.

(caution: mention of death, emotional abuse, slight mention of physical abuse, mention of alcohol // if you need me to tag any other possible triggers let me know)

One //

Part 2 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Help a girl out with a reblog, thank you ♥

And if we hit on troubled water

I’ll be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we’ll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

A cool breeze is blowing past (Y/N) as she sits on edge of the old abandoned lifeguard tower, feet dangling in the air. She’s well aware of the fact that the wind is making a mess of her hair, leaving it a tangled mess. She doesn’t really give a shit though.

The beach is practically deserted except for her and the couple strolling by the shore, throwing sticks for their puppy every once in a while. They seem so happy, as if nothing matters but them and their dog and the ocean.

Her thoughts wander towards Pumpkin, the little Jack Russell puppy they adopted a few years ago when dad was dating this woman named Laura. Laura loved dogs and dad loved Laura and so when she moved in, so did Pumpkin.

(Y/N) loved that stupid dog, hell even Billy did. But like all good things in the Hargrove’s life, this one didn’t last very long either. Dad messed up his relationship with Laura and Laura was smart enough to get the fuck out and take Pumpkin with her.

The thumping of boots against the wooden planks of the lifeguard tower, pulls (Y/N) back from her trip down memory lane.

Billy plops down next to her, fumbling a cigarette from the pocket of his denim jacket and lighting it. He’s started smoking a few months ago, just after the twins 13th birthday. Dad was really mad when he found that first cigarette hole in the carpet of their room.

“ Why are you here ? ‘s about to storm “ Billy mumbles around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.

“ Dad’s being as asshole “

“ As per usual “ Billy scoffs, “ what happened ? “

“ He found out that I pierced my ears, said I look like a slut. “

The words still sting even now that she repeats them to her brother. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s something a father should say, especially to his daughter. It’s just earrings, what’s the big deal ?

It doesn’t make her a slut. Right ?

“ What the fuck does he know. He still lives in 1971 with his ugly ass mustache“ Billy jokes, effectively getting a laugh from his twin sister.

“ You know what the worst part is ? “ (Y/N) asks.

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think my ears might be infected. They burn like hell. “

“ Ya know what ? That’s your own damn fault. I told you using Galliano liqueur was not the best way to sanitize the needle. “

(Y/N) chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “ Yeah, you were right, I admit it “.

“ Good. “

She turns to look at her brother. His hair is growing longer now, the curls sitting messily on his head reminding her of crashing waves during a thunderstorm.

Dad hates that Billy is growing his hair and and (Y/N) is fairly sure that’s part of the reason why Billy likes his hair so much. Everything that pisses off their dad is a good think in Billy’s book.

“ Still think you should’ve let me pierce one of your ears. Would’ve looked damn cool. “ she says, teasing smirk playing on her lips.

Billy shakes his head, curls bouncing from the motion. He’s mirroring her smirk though.

“ No fucking way. Never. “

(Y/N) finger plays with the tiny silver spike dangling from her ear as her eyes focus on the scenery passing by the window. There’s not a lot to see really, it’s almost pitch black outside. They’re on the road for about an hour and a half now but Steve keeps bringing up stopping.

He’s tired, (Y/N) can tell. Tired and still a bit freaked out by the whole situation.

“ So Terre Haute is coming up at I think we should see if we can find a place to stay the night, then stock up on food and gas tomorrow morning and drive through the entire day “.

Steve speaks up, more of a monologue than anything else. (Y/N) doesn’t mind how long the journey takes as long as they get to California in the end. She doesn’t mind stopping for the night. Doesn’t mind the occasional food or toilet breaks. Leaving Hawkins behind already feels liberating.

Every mile they put between themselves and that fucking town feels like a weight lifted off her shoulder.

“ Alright, sounds good to me. We gotta find a cheap place though, I don’t have a lot of cash with me “.

“ S’alright I got it “ Steve exclaims.

“ I don’t need your charity, Harrington, “ (Y/N) snaps at him. Maybe it’s a Hargrove thing, being bad at accepting help from other people. From basically strangers.

For the biggest part of her life, (Y/N) only had Billy to depend on. Now that he’s gone it feels absolutely terrifying putting her trust in someone else.

“ Sorry I — that’s not what I meant. “

“ No, “ (Y/N) sighs “ I’m sorry for snapping. I know what you meant. It’s okay. “

There’s a thick awkward tension filling the car and (Y/N) absolutely hates it.

“ Can I turn on the radio ? “ she asks motioning towards it.

Steve nods in agreement. “ There should still be a mixtape in the player. “

With the push of a button the opening chords to Mötley Crües ‘Shout at the devil’ echo through the vehicle, making (Y/N) raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“ Steve Harrington, I did not expect you to listen to this kind of music “.

Steve just shrugs “ why not ? I like all kinds of music. “

“ Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ golden boy listening to the Devil’s music. That’s a surprise. “

“ Golden boy, “ Steve scoffs “ yeah right. I just about graduated High School. I didn’t get into college. I work at a video store and my own dad thinks I’m goddamn loser. “

“ You wanna talk about shitty dads ? Cause let me tell you, I’ll win that one. “

It’s quiet for a moment, before Steve clears his throat and speaks up again.

“ Can I ask you something ? “

“ Mmh “

“ What did they tell your dad happened ? Did they — did they really tell him that whole fire bullshit ? “

“ Yup. “

“ And he believed it ? “

(Y/N) nods. “ He did. He has no reason not to “.

The fire story. Authorities told Neil and elaborate story about how Billy died in a tragic accident in the big fire at Starcourt mall. Something about wrong place wrong time.

(Y/N) was there when they told him. Susan was crying hysterically. Max was — numb. Neil though. Neil didn’t even flinch. There was no sign of emotion. No sign of grieve. Nothing. Nothing at all.

“ I don’t think he gives a shit either, to be honest. “

“ That’s horrible. “ Steve exclaims.

“ That’s my dad for ya. “

Steve’s BMW rolls up to the parking lot of the Cardinal Inn Motel. It’s a small Motel complex and it looks like it’s seen better days. The walls are a dirty white, almost gray color and all doors are painted a bright red although most of the paint is chipping off.

The kids enter the motel lobby, a small room decked out in all kinds of kitschy decor. There’s cross stitch art and paintings and decorative throw pillows. And all if it proudly features various images of a red cardinal bird.

“ Welcome to the Cardinal Inn Motel. “ a chipper voice speaks up from behind the reception desk. “ I’m Ruth, how can I help ya ? “

Ruth is a plump little woman with a kind smile, round cheeks and extremely curly ginger hair. She looks more like a caricature than an actual person. Though (Y/N) thinks she fits this place perfectly.

“ We would like twooo — ? “ Steve trails off and glances towards (Y/N) in question.

“ One “

“ — one room. With two beds though “.

“ Oh sure sure. Let me see. It’s 32 $ for a night. “ Ruth says and opens a book, probably looking up which rooms are occupied and which rooms are free. She walks towards a board holding a lot of keys and takes one of handing it to Steve.

“ This is your room key, It’s number 44. When you step outside, the room is located in the building to your right. It’s on the first floor, first door once you walk up the stairs. I would have to ask for a down payment though. Just in case. “

Steve hastily pulls out a bundle of cash from his jeans, counting the right amount and handing it to Ruth. “ That’s the entire amount, we’re only staying for one night “.

“ Very well then. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Cardinal Inn. “ Ruth chirps almost like a bird herself.

“ Thanks “ Steve says and walks towards the door.

(Y/N) stays rooted though, eyes wandering around the room from one red bird to the next to the next.

“ Hey Ruth, “ she chimes up.

“ Yes, dear ? “

“ What’s with the birds ? “

“ Oh the cardinal ? That’s Indiana’s state bird. “

“ They’re funky looking little guys, huh ? “

“ Truly. They’re also very interesting. If you want to learn about them, they’re an informational brochure in every room. “

(Y/N) gives Ruth a soft smile then rushes after Steve, out into the chilly night air.

“ Knight Rider, really Harrington ? “

Steve sits up from his slumped position on the bed as (Y/N) comes back from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in her pyjamas. A choice of pyjamas she thoroughly regrets now as the cool air inside the motel room hits the skin of her legs.

She’s dressed in a pair of short red pj pants and one of Billy’s old band shirts. One she’s stolen from his closet after — the incident. It smells like him. Makes her feel like he’s still there.

“ What, It’s good. “

“ It’s so stupid. It’s a talking car. “

“ Okay, whatever. You keep on hating but I tell you this show is gonna last forever and it’s gonna win all the awards. Trust me. “

“ Mmmh. Sure. Shower’s yours. “

Steve gathers some of his stuff from his duffle bag and moves towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As she is left alone in the room, the gravity of it all comes crashing down on (Y/N). This is it. That trip she wanted to go on with Billy. That trip they had fantasized about since the moment they left California.

Now it’s happening but it doesn’t feel right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With Billy in a thermos. With Billy — dead.

The room suddenly feels too small. Like the walls are gonna close in on her any second now. She needs air. Fresh air. Needs to get out of here. Now. Now.

So she does.

Slips on her shoes and the room key and dashes out through the door and into the night. It’s cold. Way too cold for the amount of clothing she’s wearing or not wearing depending on how you see it.

For a while all she does is walk up and down the road, wishing she had remembered to take her pack of smokes with her.

When it gets too cold though, she spots a neon sign in one of the windows of the Lobby building. “Souvenirs”.

She wonders if all of those souvenirs have red birds on them.

They don’t. Most of them do, but not all of them. A lot of them display what she can only assume are important buildings of the city of Terre Haute, Indiana.

(Y/N) remembers the few trips she used to take with her mom and Billy, when they were just little kids. Mom loved to take them to the little quirky little towns across the coast and the kids loved exploring them. Billy always got a postcard, from every single place. (Y/N) got keychains. She still has a box of them stuffed beneath her bed at home.

Her eyes wander around the room before they fall onto a display of all kinds of different postcards. Most of them, as expected, have birds on them. Though there’s one that doesn’t. It says “Terre Haute” in big bold letters. It reminds her of the ones Billy used to get from those coastal towns.

Greetings from … the few happy childhood memories she can remember.

(Y/N) takes the card over towards the reception, where Ruth greets her with another of her signature Ruth smiles. Kind and warm.

“ Hi, dear. “

“ Hi uh — I want to buy this postcard. I can’t find a price though, ah shit I left my money up in the room let me just — “

Before she can hurry towards her room though, Ruth stops her.

“ It’s okay, Darling. You can have it for free. “

“ Oh no, I — “

“ Please. You asked about the birds that pretty much the most anyone has cared about this place in a while. Take it. I want you to have it. “

It’s kinda sad, (Y/N) thinks. That her just asking about those silly birds made Ruth this happy. That people pay so little attention to her adorably little bird room.

“ Thank you, Ruth. That is very sweet of you. And this place is adorable. “

“ Thank you, dear. Do you need a stamp for that ? “

(Y/N) sighs “ No. No I don’t. “

The Bean is a little diner at the edge of town looking out onto the Wabash River. It’s emitting a perpetual smell of coffee and waffles and breakfast food.

Steve is munching down an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Oh to have the metabolism of a teenage boy.

(Y/N) takes another sip of her black coffee, hoping that the caffeine is gonna help keep her awake and not get too tired during their drive. After all they plan on being on the road for the entire day.

The pancakes on her plate are long forgotten. She hasn’t really been feeling like eating since it all happened. It’s like she’s acting on power saving mode. Always tired. Always sad. Always working on half speed.

“ You should eat something. You need it. “ Steve remarks.

“ Are you flirting with me ? ”

“ I uh — what ? “

“ Male cardinals feed females as part of their courtship ritual. A female’s partner bears total responsibility for satisfying her dietary needs. “

“ How do you know this ? “

(Y/N) smiles and takes another sip of coffee “ my friend Ruth recommended me some interesting reading material “.

She doesn’t mention that the nightmares didn’t allow her much sleep and that she spent most of the night staying up reading the informational magazine. There’s things Steve just doesn’t need to know.

“ Alriiiight. “ Steve exclaims, eyebrows raised “ Hey, what’s that. You gonna send a card home ? “ he asks and motions towards the postcard she’d been scribbling on while he had been ordering their food.

“ Nah. Not really. This one’s for someone else “.

“ Alright … hey uh. I think I should call my parents “

She looks up from her cup at Steve’s words. This can’t be happening. She can’t go back home now. He can’t bail on her.

“ Harrington “

“ Don’t look at me like that, I’m not turning around and crawling back home. I just don’t want my mom to worry. I need her to know I’m safe. “

That’s right, Steve has a mom too, not just an asshole dad. A mom who cared and who worries and who loves. God it’s been so long since (Y/N) had one of those.

“ Okay, yeah. But um — can you not mention my name. I don’t want any news to get to my dad. “

“ Of course. Yeah, no worries.“

“ Thanks “.

Despite what Billy always said about him, Steve seems to be an alright guy after all. His hair’s ridiculous though.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up.

“ Hello ? “

“ Mom, it’s me. “

“ Oh god Steve. Honey where are you I’m worried sick “.

That sends a little pang to his heart. His mother is a nice lady, she loves him deeply and she doesn’t deserve for him to worry her like that. But this is something Steve has to do, if not for (Y/N) then for himself.

“ I’m alright mom. I’m taking a friend on a — uh a roadtrip. “

“ A roadtrip ?”

“ Yea. To uh — “ his mind wanders to Billy. “ We’re going to help her brother “.

“ Okay, well are you alright ? “

No. He hasn’t been alright in a long time. Since 1983 to be completely honest.

Maybe this trip is just what he needs. A way out. An escape.

Steve leans his head against the payphone, taking a deep breath.

“ I don’t know, mom. But I’m safe and I need to just — just get away. “

“ Is this because of what happened with the Holland girl ? Or the mall ?“

Yes. All of it. If only she knew.

“ It’s just a lot lately. Can you just trust me in this, mom. That I’m doing what’s best for me ? “

His mother hesitates for a moment before clearing her throat.

“ Of course I do, sweet boy. But I am a mom and I do worry. I always will. “

It warms his heart. To know someone does care and someone does love him, no matter how much he messes up.

“ I know. I love you and I’ll be back soon. I promise. I just need to do this, for me.“

“ Be safe, Steve “

“ I will. “

Before he hangs up he can just about make out his father’s voice in the background, asking if “that’s him” and “what’s he messed up this time ? “

And it once again becomes crystal clear why getting on the road with (Y/N) is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

He walks back over to her, as she leans against his car chewing some bright pink bubble gum.

“ You ready to head out ? “

“ Yup. Your parents mad ? “

“ No. Surprisingly not. Mom just wants me to be safe. “

“ Aw little Stevie. How adorable. Anyway let’s go. “

As they both settle back in their seats, Steve slides the signature dark shades back onto his nose and turns towards (Y/N).

“ Sooo, snacks ? “

“ Snacks “ she nods and throws him one of her signature smirks “ definitely need some twizzlers to survive this trip “.

“ Happy Birthday to me “ a freshly 9 year old (Y/N) mumbles as she buries her feet in the warm sand. It’s almost time for the sun to set behind the horizon and color the sky in beautiful shades of reds and pinks and oranges.

For the last 8 years this has been a moment she has shared with her mom. Every birthday the two of them would come down to the beach and watch the sunset. Just them two.

Billy had the morning to spend alone with mom, going to the beach to catch some waves, and (Y/N) got to have the evening.

They’d sit and talk for hours and hours and hours. About everything. The silliest things.

This year she hasn’t so much as called. As if neither (Y/N) nor Billy ever existed in her life.

Billy’s been grumpy all day, refusing to spend time with his sister and deciding to go hang out with some of those stupid boys from the neighbourhood that always call (Y/N) dumb names.

(Y/N) watches the sun lower itself as if to drown the light in the dark water of the ocean, when a little plastic bag lands next to her. Just a moment later Billy drops down onto the ground too.

“ Got you some candy. Twizzlers, your favorite “

“ Did you steal them ? “

“ No, dingus. I bought them with my own money. “

“ Good. Means I don’t have to feel guilty when eating them. “

It’s silent for a moment as they sit beside each other, watching the sunset.

“ Hey I’m sorry “ Billy whispers, as if speaking any louder would mean destroying the magic of the moment.

“ It’s okay. You’re sad. I’m sad too. “

“ I’m not sad “ he claims “ I’m angry. So angry. “

“ You can be sad and angry at the same time. They’re not mutually exclusive. “

“ Stop using big words. “

“ Sorry. “

Billy takes a big breath “ I’ve decide “ he exclaims “ that from this moment on I’ll missing her. If she doesn’t want to come home, doesn’t want to see us. Screw her. I don’t need her and neither do you. “

(Y/N) knows that’s absolute bullshit but she also knows that Billy has a certain way of coping with loss and sadness and maybe she doesn’t share his ways or understand them fully but she can respect them if it means he’s less angry and less sad.

“ Okay. “

“ We don’t need her because we have each other “ he says, placing his hand on hers “ right ? “

In that moment, little (Y/N) knows that whatever the world is gonna throw her way, it’s only half as bad with her twin brother by her side.

“ Of course. Always “

If only they had known how terribly short ‘always’ would turn out to be.

_________

tags:

@sargent-barnes //

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years

Text

the same sunset - chapter three

Chapter three - trashed

Masterlist : add /tsmstorymasterlist after my URL

The music sounding from Carol’s house can be heard all the way to the other end of the street where Billy parks his car in the driveway that leads to nowhere. It seems there has once been a house there but now it’s just a deserted spot being used by teenager to park their cars whenever Carol decides it’s time to throw another rager.

Walking down the street towards the party, Billy can’t help but admire the confidence Cleo seems to emmit. It’s different to his. His is fake and take all the effort in the world to uphold. Hers seems to come natural. No effort at all.

“ You know “ she speaks up as they’re just a few houses away from Carol’s “ you can go in first if you want. They’re gonna talk if they see us arrive together. And I’ll have you know, as hard as it is to believe, I am not the most popular person. So if you don’t wanna ruin that cool brooding bad boy persona you have going on, I understand. They don’t need to see us together. “

“ Don’t make a big deal of it, then they won’t “ Billy replies. Back in California he was a different person. People there had known him since childhood and with them he didn’t ever really have to think about any image he wanted to uphold. He was just Billy. His mullet, the camaro, the music and the jeans. Those were just things that belonged to him as much as Max’ red hair belonged to her. They mean different things now.

In California he was Billy first, all the other things came with him.

Here they saw the car first, the outfits, the attitude. The loud music and the constant unbothered look etched onto his face. And from that they made up their own image of who he was. And it worked in his favor really. He’s adored by the girls and admired by most boys. And if that means he has to pretend not to be bothered by shit than so be it. Seeming numb is easy. He’s gotten a lot of practice at home.

“ Oh boy, you’re so not a small town boy. “ Cleo says and skips ahead of him a few steps, giving Billy a perfect view of her ass in jeans that are fitting like a god-damn glove. He can’t suppress a smirk, thinking back to Pete’s disapproving look back at the diner.

There’s a red solo cup pushed into his hand as soon as Billy enters the house. That awful “I Ran” song is blasting through the stereo and Billy remembers the reason he usually gets shitfaced at Carol’s parties. The music sucks.

Cleo walks further into the room and is swallowed by the crowd before Billy can figure out where she’s going. Only a mess of blonde hair visible as she squeezes herself between the dancing teenagers.

“ You know, when you asked me about her I just thought you were curious. Didn’t think you were into her “.

Of course it’s Tommy who hands Billy the drink, he’s probably been sitting by the door waiting for him to show up. It’s a little sad really, Tommy’s been following Billy around like a lost puppy from day one. But then again, no matter how annoying or clingy he is, Tommy is not a bad guy. He’s just not the brightest crayon in the box but Billy can deal with that. Also he’s Billy’s walking encyclopedia on all things Hawkins High and always knows when and where the parties are happening.

“ Shut up, man. It’s not like that. I uh — I work at her dad’s diner. We were just carpooling here. That’s it”.

“ You have a job ? “ Tommy asks dumbfounded. His eyebrows are raised in question and for a moment it makes Billy angry.

“ We don’t all have a dad who blows money up our ass and buys everything for us, Tommy “

It’s a little harsh, Billy admits that, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Tommy’s dad is the owner of some big ass lumber yards all over Indiana, dispensing wood to all kinds of high class furniture stores to make fancy sofas for fancy people, like Tommy’s dad.

Billy’s met him a few times and he seems to have zero backbone and the personality of a sponge but his wallet is wide open. Probably to make him feel better about not giving a proper shit about his son. As long as Tommy doesn’t get too out of line, his dad doesn’t really pay him any attention. He’s supposed to take over the business someday in the future. That’s the end game. Everything until then doesn’t really matter.

“ Hey sorry, man. That’s not what I meant. I think it’s cool you’re working. Do you think you can get us a discount if we come around ? “

Billy only shakes his head, a smirk finding a way onto his lips again. Tommy’s a fucking nuisance most of the time, like everything and everyone in this place. But he’s honest and Billy can appreciate that a whole lot.

“ Dunno. “

As he takes a drink from the cup, Billy immediately regrets his decision. It tastes like Cranberry juice and disappointment. Whatever vodka concoction they’ve mixed together, it fucking blows. Like a prom punch spiked by some over enthusiastic junior.

“ Thomas, show me where the beers are and we can see about that discount “ Billy says and throws his arm around Tommy’s shoulder. If he was gonna enjoy this party, bad music and shitty drinks and all, he needs beer. Lots of it.

- OOO -

Billy’s hands softly trail down the path of Erika Kapelsky’s curves. There’s some Bon Jovi song playing over the speakers and she seems to go wild on that stuff. Her ass has been rubbing his crotch for the last 5 minutes. At this point he is 99.9% sure he’s gonna score big time. He’s heard she gives great head. That she’s flexible too.

“ I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Take me home when I come back ? Parents are on a business trip “ she murmures into his ear and softly bites his lobe as she pulls away.

That’s the good thing about rich kids, Billy thinks. Their parents are always on some uber important trips for work. It’s like they’re preaching abstinence and safe sex and then do everything in their power to make sure their kids get laid as much as possible. Like leaving them alone in a big ass mansion.

“ Sure “ he agrees and watches her walk away, hips swaying dramatically. She knows how to put on a show.

“ Erica huh ? Nice one, dude “ it’s like as soon as he is alone Tommy gravitates back towards Billy. Sometimes it makes him feel like he has an actual friend. Other times it’s just annoying.

“ Yeah “ as Billy looks towards the door Erica has just disappeared through, his eyes catch movement coming from the hallway next to it.

The big mess of blonde curls on Cleo’s head is bobbing up and down as Cleo hurries down the hallway. There’s stains of what Billy assumes is the shitty prom punch all over her shirt and she’s … crying ?

He doesn’t know for sure but she’s angry that’s obvious. Her lips are pulled into a scowl and her eyebrows are furrowed. She squeezes her way through the crowd and towards the door.

For a moment Billy wants to follow. Wants to figure out what happened, if she’s crying and why. He doesn’t though.

Not his mess. Not his problem.

That’s something his dad always says. It’s a motto that’s been drilled into Billy’s head ever since he was a kid.

He remembers when he was just a little boy, maybe 5 years old. Back in California when his mom was still alive. They didn’t have shit back then but a tiny house and a rusty old car. His mom was working at a beach hut in the mornings, selling overpriced postcards and plastic seashell necklaces to tourists. Dad was constantly between jobs, saying that he just hadn’t found the right one yet. Truth is, no one wants to hire a raging alcoholic.

They didn’t have much back then but Billy liked the house, liked the neighbourhood, because there were kids there. One of them was Gracie Tempers. She lived across the street and she came over to Billy’s house a lot because her mom was working late and Billy’s mom was home in the afternoon to have an eye on the kids.

Gracie’s mom would always come and pick her up, never her dad. And she always had a cup of coffee with Billy’s mom. She was crying a lot but back then little Billy had no idea what was going on. She had a lot of black eyes too.

One night Billy couldn’t sleep so he snuck towards the kitchen, hoping to find his mother still awake so he could ask for a warm milk with some honey, his mom’s special.

Instead he found mom and dad arguing, again. When he heard Mrs. Tempers’ name he decided to hide behind the door and listen. They were yelling. Actually it was mostly his dad. Actually it was only his dad. His mom was talking in a quiet hushed voice. So timid. So scared. She wanted to help Mrs. Tempers. Wanted to “ call the cops “ Billy didn’t know what was going on then and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. Mom always said the police was someone you could go to whenever you needed help. Dad called them corrupt pigs.

Anyway. She wanted to call the cops and “get her away from him”. Billy didn’t know who “he” was either.

But no matter how hard she was pleading, how reasonable she was explaining. Dad’s booming voice kept repeating “ This is not your mess, Rebecca ! Not your problem ! “.

Cleo isn’t’ his mess either. Isn’t his problem.

So instead of going after her, Billy turns back towards the door waiting for Erica to be done so he can take her home and create a whole different kind of mess.

- OOO -

The cold air nips at Cleo’s nose as she walks down the street of this seemingly perfect suburban hell.

She should’ve known better. That’s the bottom line of it all. Should’ve known that showing up with Billy Hargrove would cause unwanted attention. Negative attention. That people would take it as some kind of threat to their social status.

Tina has always been a mean person. Someone that doesn’t lash out but observes. She schemes and calculates and figures out where to hit people so it hurts the most and leaves the most damage.

And whether she does it just out of pure spite or because she has some deep rooted insecurities that she wants to hide behind her malice, Cleo doesn’t know. In the end, it doesn’t matter anyway.

What matters is that Cleo should’ve known better. Billy is all Tina wanted since the moment he stepped foot onto the grounds of Hawkins High. And when Tina feels even a little threatened in getting what she wants, she knows exactly how to retaliate.

Cleo roughly wipes away the tears still rolling down her cheeks. Tina’s opinion shouldn’t matter. Her words shouldn’t matter. And really, they don’t. That doesn’t mean they don’t hurt.

And it’s not even the stuff about Cleo that hurt. It’s the stuff she said about her mom. Those things cut deep. Those things, Tina really doesn’t know shit about. But the worst thing ? Carol stood there and she said nothing and she did nothing. Just turned away as if she hadn’t held Cleo’s hand at her mother’s grave. As if she didn’t take care of her when she had a panic attack the night before the funeral.

As if she hadn’t been an important part of her life for so long. For the good times, but especially the bad times.

Sure they aren’t friends anymore, fair enough. But does that mean all that once was is erased and means nothing anymore ?

The air stings against Cleo’s bare arms, clings to the wet patches on her shirt. This night is a complete and utter mess and she should’ve known better.

There’s a light still burning on the porch and one in the living room. No matter how easy going her dad always pretends to be, he’s still a dad. A dad who acts like he got caught up watching old football games but really deliberately stays up to make sure his girl is getting home okay.

On one hand, Cleo is eternally grateful for the wonderful dad she has. On the other hand, it makes hiding stuff so much harder. Like tear stained cheeks. And punch soaked shirts. And anger. And sadness.

“ Hey kid, I — Cleo ? “ the smile on her dad’s face immediately falls as he takes note of her obvious misery.

“ It’s not as bad as it looks. I’m okay, can we — can we not talk about it ?”

Ever since Cleo was a kid, mom was responsible for the emotional stuff. The long talks and the cheering up. For the rough stuff. The sad stuff.

Dad was the goof who went and bought entirely too much ice cream and put on her favorite movie even though they’d all seen it a million times before.

Ever since her mom was dead, that kind of shifted. Dad had to be both, the goof and the emotional support system. And it is weird for everyone involved. Neither Cleo nor her dad are particularly good at talking about their feelings so after a while they put a system in place that seems to work for them both.

If one doesn’t talk about it on their own accord, no questions are being asked. It’s easier that way. Or maybe they just pretend it’s easier. Either way, Cleo is grateful about that system right now. Because how would she even begin to explain that it all starts and ends with that fact that her mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for her ?

“ Uh — yeah sure. Sure. “

“ Cool, thanks “ she nods and walks towards the stairs. As she is about to round the corner, her dad’s voice echoes through the halls, calling out to her.

“ Cleo ? “

“ Huh ? “

“ There’s some mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. Just — just if you need it. “

And for the first time since running into Tina, a small smile finds its way onto Cleo’s face.

- OOO -

Billy’s head feels like exploding. Like he’s in a comic and a big ass anvil has been dropped down on him.

The morning sun is shining brightly but the air is cold as he climbs out of Erika’s bedroom window and walks down the street lined by identical houses with identical white fences. There’s perfectly cut lawns, even in the winter, and the frost clings onto the grass making it glimmer in the sun.

The mailboxes are pridefully displaying the names of the families, some of which Billy recognizes from school. Of course people would want others to know they live here. These houses are massive.

He wonders if the people here are genuinely happy or if they have to play pretend, just like he does. He wonders if things were different would his family live in one of these houses. If Neil wasn’t such a fuck up and actually had a proper job that could provide the family with a better living situation, would he be less angry? Would Billy be ?

After a few minutes of passing big ass houses and pristine lawns and picket fences and artsy mailboxes, he arrives at his car.

There’s noticeably less cars here now than there were last night. Next to his Camaro is Tommy’s car which means he’s probably stayed over at Carol’s last night. Whatever those two have, Billy thinks, is a big old mess. They’re constantly at each other’s throats. Either fighting or making out. It’s exhausting for him, and he’s only watching from the sidelines.

Billy slumps down into the driver’s seat of his beloved Camaro. It smells like leather and cigarettes and honestly, it’s a smell that’s become incredibly comforting to him. His car is so much more than just a status symbol. It’s his way out. His escape. When things at home get too bad he can always get in his car and drive around. Aways from the yelling. Away from his father’s anger.

Away from home.

He turns towards the passenger side of his car, itching for a cigarette and hoping to find on in the glove compartment. Instead he’s faced with Cleo’s denim jacket discarded on his passenger seat.

He wants to ignore it. Pretend it isn’t there and just wait for her to come and get it. That’s another thing you learn in the Hargrove household. Don’t let your shit lying around or it’s gone. Neil never had any respect for any of Billy’s things so if he wasn’t being careful with it, Neil would just throw it in the trash.

He wants to ignore Cleo’s jacket so badly. But he can’t. He doesn’t.

- OOO -

The Finch’s two story home is painted a pale blue color. There’s paint chipping from the doorframes and the windows. The front yard looks clean enough but it’s not even close to the front yards he’s seen in Carol’s neighbourhood.

Their little white mailbox says “Finch” in what seems to be the handwriting of a young child. There’s 4 handprints. One big one that he bets belongs to Pete. A bright red one that he can only imagine belongs to a slightly younger version of Cleo. There’s a teeny tiny one that he’s sure is Charlie’s. Then there’s another one. It’s smaller than Pete’s but only slightly bigger than Cleo’s.

His heart drops a little at the realization of who’s handprint it is.

He wonder how she does it. How she lives through losing her mother and doesn’t end up resenting the whole world for it, like he does. He wonders if things would be different if Neil wasn’t such a piece of shit and actually gave a damn about Billy and his grief and this perpetual feeling of anger and bitterness. If he had someone like Pete in his life, would things be — ok ?

His mind drifts back to Cleo’s words from that time in the diner when she made them grilled cheese “Things are rough all over”. Maybe they are. Maybe they’re rougher for some though.

Denim jacket grasped tightly on one hand, Billy walks up the porch steps towards the door with the chipped white paint and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t know what to say to Cleo when she answers, if she answers. It’s not like he cares about her particularly much or about the fact that she was klutzy enough to leave her jacket, in the middle of November no less.

He’s not sure why he’s here in the first place. Maybe because her crying face has sneaked it’s way into the back of his mind every one in a while since last night.

Or maybe because he feels guilty for not bringing her home safe as he had told Pete he would.

Or maybe because he was curious about what happened.

Or maybe all of the above.

Though it’s not Cleo that opens the door. It’s a wild mop of bright red hair and a smile missing one tooth.

“ Billy ? “ Charlie asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“ Hey. ‘s Cleo home ? “

“ No. Why ? “

He hated being questioned. There’s hardly any privacy at home. Every part of his life seems to be considered public property to Neil. Secrets are dangerous. So when you are asked, you either answer or you face the consequences.

“ She left her jacket in my car. Hey where is she ? “

“ What does it matter ? “

“ I wanna give it back “

“ You can just leave it here. She’ll be back home eventually. “

Charlie seemed nice enough for a kid that one time he met her, but Billy can’t deny that right now she’s seriously testing his patience.

“ I know I can but I want to give it to her personally. If that’s okay with you of course. “ he snaps at her and immediately feels bad as he sees the sliver of uncertainty and — fear in her eyes.

“ Look — “ he starts and pinches the bridge of his nose “ — I let her leave the party alone last night and I feel bad about it, okay ? So just tell me where she is and I’ll give this thing back and say sorry and then we can go back to seeing each other at work and that’s it .”

Charlie bites her lip in uncertainty. Billy can see her considering all options. Finally settling on the thought that her sister deserves an apology if Billy is willing to give one, Charlie grants him a small smile and replies “ you know where the old junk yard is ? “

- OOO -

The november sun stands high up in the sky when Billy arrives at the junkyard. There’s a lot of shit lying around. Mostly tires and bottles, pieces of wood, half gutted cars and a variety of metal signs that seem like the used to decorate the shop fronts of Hawkin’s downtown once upon a time.

He spots Cleo the moment he steps out of his car. She’s in a pair of ripped jeans and a gray sweater that looks 2 sizes too big for her and falls off of one shoulder. Her blond curls are pulled into a messy ponytail but a few strands have escaped and frame the side of her face.

The thing that makes him wonder though, is the baseball bat clutched rightly in her hand.

He can her Black Sabbath playing loudly from small radio propped up on an old oil drum.

The pebbles are crunching beneath his boots as he approaches her and when she lifts her head, Billy can see nothing but annoyance in her eyes.

“ The hell are you doing here ? “ she asks, her voice rid of all her usually bubbliness.

“ You left your jacket in my car. You know, where I come from girls do that to make boy call them back. “ he says and smirks. He knows that wasn’t her intention but if there’s an opportunity to tease, Billy sure as hell isn’t gonna let it go.

“ Well here it just means that I forgot my jacket. Sorry to hurt your ego. “

“ Oh it doesn’t. Trust me. “

His gaze moves from her towards the baseball bat, then back to her. “ What the hell are you even doing with that thing ? “

Billy can see the smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. It’s tiny and barely there but he can notice it anyway.

“ Break stuff. “

She accompanies her words with a swing of the bat , slamming it into one of the rusting cars. There’s the crashing of metal and glass and the music all mixing together to create a melody of absolute chaos.

Cleo pulls back again and places another hit against the vehicle. Then another. And a fourth before she blows one of the stray curly away from her face and glances at Billy through the corner of her eye “ you wanna try ? “

He shrugs and takes the bat from her hand. “ You gotta make it count though. “

“ The hit ? “

“ Mmh “ Cleo nods then hoists herself up on the hood of another car.

And Billy makes it count. Not the first time. But when Cleo calls out to him to “ think of something that makes you really fucking angry “ he puts his all in the hit.

He thinks of his mother dying. His friends who don’t bother calling. His dad. All of it. Everything.

It’s like with every time the bat descends onto the metal, his shoulders feel a little lighter. Like he gets to let go of his anger for a moment there and channel it all into the task of destroying the damn car. It’s what it feels like whenever he gets into fights only without the stupid consequences.

“ Feels good ? “ Cleo asks, sipping on a bottle of what he assumes is beer.

And when he looks up at her he can’t help but smile. Genuinely smile “ feels awesome! “

- OOO -

The two teens are lounging on the hood of an old Cadillac from the 50s sipping on their beers and watching the sun slowly set behind the trees. The junkyard sits atop a hill and you can just make out the outskirts of Hawkins from up here.

“ Why’d you come ? You could’ve just left the jacket at my place and leave. “ Cleo asks, eyes trained on the horizon.

“ What do I know. Thought I owed you this much. “

“ Why would you owe me ? “ she still doesn’t look at him but as Billy glances at her, he can see her pull her eyebrows together in confusion.

“ I saw you crying and I — ugh I don’t know okay ? Just wanted to see if you’re alright. Don’t make a big deal of it. “

She doesn’t. It makes her smile anyway.

“ Well thanks “

“ Whatever. “

For a moment it’s silent then Billy speaks up again.

“ What was that about anyway ? The whole crying thing ? “

“ They talked shit about my mom “ Cleo says and takes the last sip from the bottle before throwing it against the mount of trash making it break into little pieces.

“ That sucks. She’s dead right ? “ It might sound heartless and brash to some but Billy hates it when people sugarcoat stuff to him for no reason and something tells her Cleo isn’t that different when it comes down to it.

“ Yup. Yours too, huh ? “

Billy nods “ Yeah “

“ What happened ? “

“ Cancer. Yours ? “

“ Car accident. “

“ Fuck. “

“ Yes. Fuck. “

Billy turns his head to the side so he’s facing her and Cleo follows suit soon after.

“ That why you come here to break shit ? “ he questions, taking his last sip of beer then following Cleo’s earlier action of breaking the bottle against the pile of trash.

“ I was — so frustrated. With everything. I knew Tina was gonna talk smack when she sees me showing up with you but deliberately bringing up my dead mother to hurt me ? That’s low. “

“ That’s fucked up. “

“ That’s a highschool girl who feels threatened “

Billy lets out a humourless laugh “ It’s not fair though. She doesn’t know what the hell it feels like to lose your mom. You shouldn’t have to deal with her using that to hurt you just because she thinks her pussy is some kind of otherworldly experience that gives her the power to rule this trash pile of a town. For the record, it’s not. “

Cleo snickers and Billy thinks she looks fucking cute when she does it.

“ Can I ask you something ? “ Billy wonders, looking at Cleo expectandly.

“ I guess. “

“ Are you angry ? Because I — I don’t think I have felt anything but anger in so long. I’m so mad at god or the universe of whatever. Whatever is responsible for taking my mom away. My dad — Neil, he’s an absolute asshole. Always has been but mom — mom was good. So why did it happen to her ? It makes no sense and it drives me insane to think about it. It makes me so so furious. “

“ What makes you think I’m not angry ? “

“ You don’t seem angry. “

“ Well I am. I just — life needs to go on, you know. I gotta help dad with the diner and make sure Charlie is happy and healthy. I am angry I just literally do not have the time to dwell on that feeling. “

It makes sense, he think. Back in California life was shit too but he had friends there and stuff to do to take his mind off of things. Hawkins is quiet and empty and boring and his mind gets all the time in the world to think about the sad stuff. The shit that makes him angry.

“ Well look at us sharing sob stories like some kind of dead-moms-club. “ he scoffs but allows a little smile to tug at the corner of his lips which grants him a smile from Cleo in return.

“ Oh shut up, Billy “

And as her laughter echoes through the air and he looks up towards the November sky, he doesn’t feel so angry anymore, at least not for that moment. He’s not happy either but he’s content. And maybe that’s all he can ever ask for. To not feel angry all the time. To get a single moment of relieve. Of lightness. Of ease. Of laughter.

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #tsmstorymasterlist

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