¹ PLAY DATE ʚɞ steve harrington

00. Strawberries & Cigarettes

From the outside, they looked a pair of star crossed lovers.

There was only one thing in his way.

The tiny purity ring that sat upon her ring finger.

It was always there, sat between them. When she curled her fists in his jumper to keep her little steps up to his larger ones. When she pushed her tendrils away from her eyes. Even when their fingers slipped between one another's, mindlessly playing, the little silver ring remained. The one constant.

His worst enemy. Tommy's one condition — the bet they play... steal her virginity.

But Steve knew how to get what he wanted. Things like this took time, sweet little girls like aurora would take a little longer than most. With her confused questions and inquisitive stares, it was obvious as to just how sheltered she was. Aurora knew it. Steve knew it. They came from completely different wavelengths.

That's why, one night, as they sat in his BMW, a few blocks out from her own house (God, if her father saw her out this late with steve harrington) she turned to him and took a deep breath, doe eyes cast down on his palm against her thigh. "What's this for, steve?"

"Hm?" He asked absentmindedly, thumb and forefinger ghosting over the hem of the little denim skirt fluttering over her thighs. Steve's hair, as always, in its effortless glory, fell delightfully over his forehead. His own coffee eyes were cast upon her thigh, taking in the soft skin and sweet contrast of the roughness in her denim skirt.

"This." Her words were quiet, as always, but lightly breathy from the simple touch of his skin upon her own. Aurora, in her time of knowing Steve, had come to recognise him with the tingling, fluttering in her stomach. Finally, his eyes fluttered upwards, holding back a groan at the sight of her bottom lip caught between pearly whites. "Why are we... I'm not smart. I-if that's what you want." Her thighs were shaking as his brow drew together. "I can't tutor you, you'd be better off going to nance. Unless you're looking to get into art—"

Auroras words fell short with the simplest of touches. Steve's hand cupped the side of her face, calloused thumb running across the surface of her sweet cheeks, now flushed. He stared at her so deeply, almost as though he could see past her irises and into her very heavenly soul. Sweet, sweet Rory had no idea of all that was to come. "What're you talking about?" His own mumble was shorter than most, as though his mind were only focused on her pillowy lips.

"Barb says that you're using me." She admitted lowly, for she could never hide anything when he held her so delicately. "Because of Taylor? And s-she thinks you want something from me. So if it's tutoring—" she fell short again, voice breaking and lip quivering at the loss of his palm against her skin. He looked lost in his expression, hand now holding harshly onto the steering wheel. Aurora felt simply awful, having visibly upset the Harrington boy. "Steve?"

The betrayal in his eyes was heart wrenching.

"You think i'm using you?"

"No!" She instantly jumped, scrambling towards him. Desperate little hands curled around the fabric of his sage green sweater, her silver ring flashing in the light of passing headlights. "N-no, Steve, I'd never think that!"

"So Barb can just say that and you'll believe her? If I was using you, I would've done it by now."

Still with a trembling lip, Aurora mentally begged for him to
look at her, glance at her, anything. Her fists curled tighter at the fabric on his chest. "I don't believe her, I promise. I'm just scared."