sh; it started with a cigarette

xxv|i miss your face like hell.

"Hey Wayne. It's Y/N. Is Eddie 'round?" 

"Eddie!" more coughing. "There's a girl on the phone!" 

There's a few uncomfortable seconds of Uncle Wayne coughing and murmuring to himself. 

"Sparky," Eddie coos. 

"How'd you know it was me?" 

He laughs flirtatiously. "Do you really think many girls call asking for me?" 

I roll my eyes. Typical Eddie. Always flirting, perpetually annoying. 

"There's something I need to do. I need your help, but we can't let Nancy or Steve know." 

"A secret mission without the King and Queen, you say?" he clicks his tongue. "When do we start?" 

≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

"So. What'd he do?" Eddie taps his ringed fingers against the peeling steering wheel. 

I eye him. "Does it matter?" 

He shrugs. "I mean, not really. Well, sort of. I am helping you stalk him," 

I blink sleepily, arms crossed tight over my chest. I breathe slowly, staring out the dirty windshield. Through the open blinds of Room 48, I watch Davis fold laundry from his suitcase and neatly place it in the motel's provided dresser. 

"It's not stalking," I rationalize. 

Eddie shakes his head. "Uh-huh," he coughs a bit, filling the awkward silence. 

"He's an old friend," I fib. "I haven't seen him in forever and then he just... drops in," 

"You're a terrible liar, Sparky," 

I peel my eyes away from the window and glare at him. "I'm not lying," 

"There you go again," he says cooly. "Look. I'm not saying it's any of my business--but I'm gonna say it anyways--don't ruin a good thing before it starts," 

"What?" I snipe. 

"You don't think I know about you and a certain insufferable member of Hawkins royalty?" A smile cracks his pale skin. If your heart can physically drop into your ass, mine definitely just did. 

"You--how?" 

"I know everything," he says ominously. "Don't worry. Secret's safe with me, Scout's honor," 

"You were in Boy Scouts for like half a year," I protest. 

"Don't try to change the subject on me. Now," he rubs his hands together in anticipation. "Tell me everything." 

I stare at him for a moment, wondering if he's being serious right now. The glimmering in his big brown eyes tells me yes, and I groan. I rub my hands over my face and inhale sharply. 

"Davis and I dated back in California. He joined military intelligence, pissed off the wrong people," I paraphrase. "faked his death and ruined my life. Then showed back up here to, what? Rekindle our relationship? Piss me off? Shit, I don't know." 

Eddie nods thoughtfully. "Dead guy is not-so-dead, comes back and expects everything to be easy-peasy," 

I find a sort of comforting ridiculousness in his oversimplification. 

"Have you tried--bear with me on this one," Eddie claps. "Just talking to him?" 

"What do I even say?" I look at Eddie with a pleading, pitiful look. 

He juts his lip out in an empathetic pout. "Whatever you feel you need to say." 

I nod, reaching for the van's door handle. Eddie tells me he'll wait for me and keep an eye out for trouble. 

The sun is beginning to set on Hawkins, and I sigh knowing I'll be late to Dustin's coming-home party. 

The motel is an orangeish-brown wood with a green shingled roof, the one lit-up sign only flickering occasionally. The scratched red door labeled '48' draws me into it like a magnet, pulling me closer and closer to my doom. Before I can stop myself I'm knocking on the door. 

Footsteps. The nob jiggles and the lock clicks open. The door creaks, hinges fighting to give me time to run. 

The door is open before I can retreat. There he is, staring at me like he's seen a ghost. 

Davis swallows hard. "Hey," he choked out. 

"Hi," I reply quietly. 

The air is thick and void of oxygen, swallowed by a once-died-out flame roaring back to life. 

"Look, Y/N. I'm sorry for showing up like this. I should've--"  

Before he can finish his sentence, I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I pull us as close as I can and squeeze him even tighter. He's tense at first but eases up after a few seconds. 

"I missed you so much," I murmur into his shoulder. 

He rubs his thumb on the small of my back, but it feels wrong. I find my mind wandering to someone else when he speaks up. 

"I missed you too." 

I pull away from him, focusing on his face. This is Davis. No one else. I lightly punch his chest. 

"Don't you leave me ever again. Asshole," 

He laughs. "Some things never change," 

"Everything has changed," I tell him. I look around carefully and lean in to whisper. "There's more of us, people like me. Right here in Hawkins," 

He cocks a brow. "How many?" 

"Just one. But we keep it on the down-low. You know how skittish people from small towns can be," 

"Your boyfriend didn't seem afraid." 

"He's not my boyfriend," 

"Then he wouldn't mind if I take you out on a date tomorrow night," he flirts. 

I think about it for a moment. After everything I'd done to rebuild a life for myself out here, do I really want to allow someone from my past--especially Davis--in? It's risky, no doubt. But the best rewards often are. 

Dates for us used to be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches under a single stolen candle in Pearl's rose garden. Back then he was clean-shaven and didn't have that nasty scar on his left cheekbone that I just can't stop staring at. He's bigger now, broader and taller but also more lean. It makes me wonder where he's hidden all these years that allowed him the lifestyle to work out. 

 Everything is different now. But he's still Davis. My Davis. Maybe not the only man I've ever loved but the first; the one I begged no God in particular to bring home to me. 

"When and where?" I finally answer his proposition. 

"Eight. I'll pick you up." 

I plant a kiss on his cheek, turning to leave quickly before I end up never leaving at all. 

I dash back to the van, Eddie laughing at me from inside. He watches me wiggle my way inside, giddy and shaking. 

"You're positively adorable," Eddie teases. 

"Shut up Eddie." I laugh.