i need a stronger word than friend. not best friend no because. no. no no. you just don’t get it.
sure, this is my best friend, this is my closest friend.… but. it just feels like an understatement.
they’re not a partner or a significant other, no, it’s not like that… but we’re built for each other. soulmates. twin flames. the half of me i’ve been missing.
so like… where… is the word for that. i cannot keep saying ‘my friend’ whenever i am talking about them on here i’m going insane
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it’s 2am and i can’t stop thinking about steve lying in bed with robin beside him and they’re both supposed to sleep and robin’s quiet, so steve has time to think. he doesn’t like that. he’s almost about to ask her, beg her just to ramble away again — it’s the reason she’s his person, after all. she talks so he won’t have to think. and he listens so she won’t go mad. they just work. soulmates.
though steve isn’t sure she knows that’s one of the reasons she’s his favourite. robin and dustin. always talking. always louder than his thoughts, always drowning out the three very loud songs that are stuck in his head simultaneously, layered in with questions that could be of universal interest if only steve could focus on them long enough to decipher them.
nightmares and flashbacks are only part of the reason steve sucks at sleep. only part of the reason he refuses to go even one night without dustin or robin.
everything is always so loud. and when everything is loud, steve sort of freezes. and when he freezes, he wonders what’s the point. what’s his point. beyond all this. who is he when he’s not babysitting teenagers or fighting inter-dimensional monsters?
is he even supposed to be anyone beyond that?
even before all that, he wasn’t really anyone. he wasn’t himself — but he doesn’t even know what that’s supposed to mean, so he tries not to think about that too hard. he took on a role, something that was expected of him, something that was easy. it’s not so easy now, but it’s better. but still, it feels like a role. like he’ll lose himself completely once this is all over.
the question in his head has always been, who is steve harrington to the world? but it should be, who is steve harrington to himself? and maybe that is the question. it’s just, he wouldn’t know. there are too many at once. it’s too loud. he can’t think.
so he shifts in bed and turns around to face robin — their eyes meeting in the dark. the moment he opens his mouth to ask, the words escape him.
robin takes his hand. he sort of wants to cry.
“what’s wrong?” she whispers, and he hates her a little bit for always asking, for knowing how to do that, for knowing the words, for knowing him.
he swallows and tries, closing his eyes so he can pretend he’s talking to himself. “who do you think i am?”
because who am i to you? is stupid. dingus, she would say with that smile and steve would ache too much to rephrase the question or make her believe he’s longing to be something other than dingus. or at least find out what that means to her.
and because who am i? would have freaked her out too much.
robin squeezes his hand and breathes a very soft, very gentle, “steve” that cuts into him all the same. he’s a bit tired of that name, whatever that means. or maybe he wants it to mean something.
“forget it, sorry,” he mumbles and tries to pull away his hand, but robin won’t let him. steve sighs, and it’s almost a whine, almost pained, almost a person.
“no, let me, let me think about it. it’s just, you’re… you’re steve.” and she says it like it could mean something. like maybe it does. like maybe there’s hope, at 2:13 in the morning. “you’re a fucking asshole but also the nicest person i know. the kindest. the most caring. you’re the person who always makes me laugh, who always has my back, who would… you’d die for me. you’re the person i don’t really understand because you do everything with everything you are. everything you have. and you don’t even know, i think. you’re the person i thought i hated for a while, the person who showed me who i am even when you didn’t even know i existed. you’re the person i want in my life forever. but i don’t think there’s a word for this other than steve, so you see my predicament here. you’re steve. my steve. and that’s sort of the best thing anyone can be, if you’re still asking for my humble opinion.”
oh. so it does mean something. many somethings. future somethings, too. the kind that make the noise inside steve’s head quiet down until there’s only robin and the absolute amount of love he has for her.
so he shifts once more, but this time to lay his head on her chest, his arms around her in both of their favourite position. she hugs him back immediately and steve breathes out an, “okay.” as if she didn’t just save him a little bit. as if he was just making sure.
she smiles and he can feel it in her whole body. he returns it. the night’s worries can’t touch them like that.
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Maybe Daniels middle age crisis come in handy with this post race chaos, like yes king go to a restaurant in short shorts with your gf and put glitter on your face and be away from jimmiz for this one
i too would forget about f1 the second i get out of that tractor
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