XXVII: Entangle

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en·tan·gle

verb


cause to become twisted together with or caught in.


Wrapped up in one another, the bliss of skin on skin, Jonathan and Emilia could have fallen asleep right there. Bed sheets crinkled, blanket strewn sloppily over their hips and legs, eyes focused on one another; they were perfectly content with everything in their lives. Nothing outside could bother them there, entangled within one another. His dark brown eyes looked softly into her bright blue ones, both of them lying on their sides. Jonathan had his hand on Emilia's hip, and Emilia had hers tangled in his light brown hair. Swept up in passion, nothing could interfere with what they felt between them.

Emilia tried to hold onto that feeling, that feeling of knowing she'd done something for herself, for Jonathan. Deep down -though she knew that thinking about it would just darken the mood- she knew that Tommy had only done it for himself. Lying in that bed with Jonathan, she felt as though they were -for a moment- one person instead of two separate ones. There were feelings all throughout her, pulsing like they were electricity or her own blood coursing through her veins. But Emilia didn't know what those feelings were, and so until she figured them out, she lied there, content as ever.

"I think this is up there as the best day ever." She whispered, even though there was no one in the house. It felt wrong to speak at full octaves, as if it would burst the delicate bubble that surrounded them and protected them.

Jonathan lit up, even though he was already lit up. His heart beat within his chest a little faster, and he felt as though nothing in his world could possibly go wrong. Emilia had finally broken out of her shell, and Jonathan had to take a small credit for chiselling away at it until she was able to do the rest on her own. He was still so proud of her, he felt her warmth radiating from her body and wanted to move closer, even though he wasn't cold himself. He pressed his sweaty forehead to hers, his hair matting upon their skin. Their noses touched and then she kissed his lips just lightly.

Emilia slowly, as to not injure either of them, flipped herself on top of him, kissing him deeply. Only then did they hear a loud thump followed by the recognized voice of the other Byers boy; Will.

"Jon, I'm home!" Even his shouting was soft, everything about the two Byers boys was gentle, soft. Emilia quickly got off of Jonathan and both of them began a slight fumble looking for their clothing scattered over his room. She could have sworn everything was taken off nicely and should have been in one pile. The tape that was playing had long since come to an end. She'd never forget the feel of Jonathan's soft caress to the gentleness of that song. Emilia hopped into her pants, shifting from one foot to the other to get them on; she swore pants were getting tighter and tighter, and she wasn't gaining any weight. Trends; she cursed them. Once her bra was on, she looked around for her shirt, completely uncaring that her scars were exposed. Jonathan's eyes didn't linger on them; he was not disgusted by the sight of her, and neither was she. Not anymore.

"Jon, my shirt?" She whispered.

He made a face, flipping the blanket off of the bed to see if it was under there. They could hear Will's foot steps coming closer, although his bedroom was close. He was a young kid, and might not put the two together if Jonathan and Emilia stepped out of the bedroom in a slight panic with wrinkled clothing and messy hair. Spotting her shirt hanging out from just under the bed, he reached down and tossed it gently at her. She didn't react fast enough, bringing her hands up to catch it but it flopped down against her face. Both of them cracked up, trying to contain their laughter because they were not fully dressed and it might attract Will's attention.

"Jon, mum wants you to help with groceries." Will's voice was just outside the door now.

Jonathan's eyes bugged out of his head, "She's home?!"

He hadn't meant to say it so loud, but Will retorted, "Uhm, yeah? What's wrong with you, just come out already?"

"In a minute," Jonathan buckled his belt and spread his arms out, whispering to Emilia. "How do I look?"

She crossed over to him and straightened out his messy hair, "There. And me?"

"Beautiful," he replied, kissing her on the cheek and then they turned to face the real world outside of his bedroom. Opening the door, he noticed that Will was still standing there, and he ruffled his hair until Will complained, just to distract him from the obvious fact of what they had been doing before he got home.

"Jon, stop!" Will tried not to laugh, but did not succeed. They walked out, all three of them, towards the front door. Joyce was in the doorway carrying way too many bags of groceries and she glanced up at them to say something to Jonathan about taking too long to come help, but then she noticed Emilia. She didn't just notice her, she noticed that there was something different about her, about both of them. At first, she couldn't put her finger on it while she was desperately straining to keep the groceries from falling.

Jonathan rushed over and took a few of the bags, and Emilia offered as well. With the heavy load taken from her, Joyce stood up a bit straighter. "I didn't expect to see you here, Emilia."

"Oh," Emilia took that as she wasn't welcome, and began to quickly regress back.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" She asked.

"I shouldn't... I wouldn't want to intrude," Emilia placed the bags she was holding onto the kitchen table.

"Oh no, please!" Joyce insisted, that unsureness disappearing quickly. "We have more than enough."

They made dinner like a family unit; Will set the table, Jonathan and Emilia prepped the salad while Joyce did the major cooking. The small kitchen was full and filled with people, a mood hanging in the air that nobody could put their finger on. Joyce watched from the corner of her eye the way Jonathan and Emilia moved; she no longer had an awkwardness to her movements, or to the way she talked to Jonathan. They laughed lightly here and there, but Joyce never caught their conversation. Digging deep through her mind, she tried to figure out what had changed. By the time dinner was ready she still hadn't figured it out.

All seated around the table, Joyce looked across at Emilia and smiled. It was wonderful to see her so different, so happy. She glanced at her eldest son and wished she could apologize to him for doubting who Emilia was in the beginning. It was clear now that she wouldn't hurt Jonathan; and it was also clear that she had overcome something tragic in her life. The chit chat of the dinner table was easy, there was no tension, not even when Joyce asked, "What did you two get up to today?"

Emilia nearly turned red, but somehow managed to compose herself in time. She shoved a bite of dinner into her mouth so that she didn't have to answer, and glanced at Jonathan. He smiled at her, and just about rolled his eyes. "We went and saw that Stephen King movie, Cujo?"

"Oh," Joyce wasn't into films. She didn't have time for them. "You're into horror?"

Emilia nodded, swallowing her food now. "Big time. Monsters and things that go bump in the night-"

Theway she said that last bit made Joyce realize what they had done. She didn't feel upset or angry; she was not the kind of parent to freak out over somethinglike that. She remembered what it was like to be a teenager, how exciting it could be when you found someone who you wanted to be with. Although she didn'thave the best track record when it came to men, she knew how elated one felt when they found someone. So she glanced up at Emilia and Jonathan and smiled,"Sounds like you guys had a good day."    


Question of the day; who is your favourite Stranger Things character? 
Mine is definitely Hopper.

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