XVIII: Discovery

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dis·cov·er·y

noun


the action or process of discovering or being discovered.


"Let's take a break from studying, please," Emilia groaned and leaned back into the well-loved couch at the Byer's household. There was an ugly yellow blanket draped over the back of the couch, likely to hide any holes or stains, and yet it seemed to do the couch no justice. Since her father and her had talked, things felt easier in her life. She'd been given a later curfew of eight, and nine on weekends. Emilia had learned that to respect her father was the best way to have respect given back to her. She was still lying directly to his face about where she was every afternoon and evening, but that was simply a white lie.

It wasn't hurting anyone.

"And what do you suggest we do instead?" Jonathan asked. Since the night at the pool five days ago, they had shared a few kisses since then. The time they spent together did not allot for much; they were always in school or studying at his house afterwards. He wondered if the weekend would prove something different, but wasn't worried about where anything would lead. He knew that a male of his age should be feeling more intimate thoughts about Emilia; he didn't deny that he hadn't felt them, but he felt no need to apply them. Emilia was a woman who moved at her own pace, a pace at which nervous Jonathan Byers found himself comfortable with. Never knowing when she might plant her lips on his again, it kept his heart beat rapid and the anticipation on a constant build.

Emilia sipped some room-temperature water and made a pondering face. "You keep all your photos, right?"

Jonathan nodded.

"Can I see them?" She asked, curious to know how many years of photography, seeing the world through Jonathan's captive eyes, what she might learn from all of it. She longed to learn everything there was to know about Jonathan before she moved things beyond kissing; something deep inside of her was terrified of what came next. But with Jonathan she felt so safe, she knew that if he wrapped his arms around her she would be protected, not pressured. It sat right with her, but she was comfortable where they were at. They hadn't given themselves a name, but Emilia suspected she would say they were a couple, going together, what have you.

Jonathan hesitated for just a moment, his eyes cast downwards and then he nodded. "Yeah, of course."

They walked down the hallway to his bedroom; Emilia hadn't spent much time in there knowing what bedrooms often meant. He opened the door and looked at the room. There were some clothing articles upon the floor, and dust collecting on the shelves. His bed was unmade, but he realized a while ago that Emilia was not bothered by these things. Mess was a part of human life, particularly a part of a teenage boy's life. He walked to the opposite side of his bed, where the speakers of his stereo too were collecting dust. Underneath his bed were a couple of boxes, the boxes were unlabelled but he knew which ones were older and which ones were new. There was only one box that he left underneath the bed; he wondered if he should toss that one, hide it somewhere that Emilia would never find it. But for now, it remained underneath the bed.

Three full boxes, he planted on the bed and sat with his legs off the end of the bed, twisting at his spine to beckon Emilia over. She knelt on the bed and crawled across to get to the other side, rather than walking around. They opened the first box, and Emilia noted that they were mostly of his family, and were far more amateur than his newer images. She smiled, chuckled, pointed, asked -all the pictures had a story, whether or not Jonathan could remember them. Many of them were of Will, and Emilia witnessed him grow in the span of ten minutes.

"How long have you been doing this?" She asked after a half hour.

Jonathan shrugged, "Freshman year."

She nodded; she'd only gotten into it in the last year. "It's amazing, everything you've captured."

"Thank you," he was always so polite. In the distance, he heard the front door swing open, and his mother shuffle in with what sounded like groceries. There was a thud, the sound of a bag hitting the ground and apples rolling along the floor, followed by a groan from Joyce. Jonathan looked over his shoulder at the door, "I should-"

"Go on," Emilia smiled, "I'm perfectly content right here."

Jonathan nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Emilia alone to her thoughts. She could hear Jonathan greeting his mum and wished that she could remember how that felt. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she took a deep breath and put the picture that she was holding down in her lap. When she looked down she smiled at the picture she was holding. It was of Will, and Emilia had quickly grown fond of the boy. As if he were her own little brother, she had a soft spot in her heart for Will. Deciding to put the pictures back and tidy up a bit of the mess she'd helped create, she grabbed the boxes and shoved them back under the bed where Jonathan had grabbed them from.

When she was on her hands and knees, she noticed the box that was still underneath the bed. Curious, with a hint of guilt, Emilia pulled it out and wondered if Jonathan had just missed a box. Part of her mind told her to put it back, and that he had left it under there for a reason. Another part of her was all too curious as she propped it up on the bed. On her knees, leaned upon the backs of her thighs, Emilia glanced at the open bedroom door and wondered if this was okay. Nibbling her lip, Emilia listened and heard Jonathan and Joyce chatting away in the other room. The kitchen, she suspected.

"Hi, Emilia!" Joyce shouted from the kitchen.

"Hi, Joyce!" Emilia called back; in the last few days she felt a change with Joyce. Upon first meeting, she wondered if Joyce had taken a liking to her, and suspected that she hadn't. Jonathan had told her otherwise many a time, but it wasn't until she spent nearly half of the weeks evenings at the Byer's household that she got to know Joyce better. Joyce had twice spotted them kissing, and somehow Emilia felt more warmth from Joyce after that. Either way, Emilia was happy to be in her good books.

She thumbed the box; it was simple grey, just a cardboard box. And yet she knew inside it contained at least a hundred secrets behind images. Part of her wondered if what was inside was some of his earlier work. She giggled at the thought of maybe it being something like porn, not that she would throw a fit if that's what she found in there. Finally lifting the lid, she stared with complete shock. Within a few moments, which felt like hours, she was able to reach her hand in and grab a dozen of the pictures. In trembling hands, she stared at the pictures, mouth agape.

Emilia didn't hear the footsteps as they came around the corner; she didn't see Jonathan pop his head back into the bedroom and freeze immediately when he saw what Emilia was looking at. The box that was propped up on his bed was the one he never wanted Emilia to see. She was holding at least a dozen of the images, a few of them scattered on the bed and he knew that she'd seen more than he ever intended for her to see. She was never supposed to discover those. When she finally looked up at him, he was completely unable to read what her eyes were saying.

For the first time, he had no idea what she was thinking.


What the heck were those images? Question of the day, easy one, HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THE STRANGER THINGS SEASON 2 TEASER?

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