ElMax/Henclair OneShots (Elmax Manly)

Jealousy stanleyvris

Ever since Eleven had laid eyes on Max Mayfield, she felt something tug inside her chest. She had written it off as jealousy after she saw her getting a bit too close to Mike. Max kept her distance most of the time, choosing to gravitate towards Lucas and Dustin as oppose to the telekinetic runaway, which Eleven didn’t mind, after all, she was angry and jealous of the redhead. So the two went on like this for months, ignoring each other. But every now and then, one of them would catch the other looking at them before realising the other had noticed, and hastily turned away. Every time Eleven saw Max staring at her, it would cause that same feeling to bubble up inside her chest.

Jealousy. Thought Eleven. And anger.

But as the months ticked by, the two girls found themselves coming into contact more than they had anticipated. Both being a part of the party, they knew that would see each other regularly, but that didn’t mean they had to actually converse – right? Regardless of whether they wanted to or not, they found themselves noticing each other more and more as time went on. Slowly, Max saw past the squinted eyes of distaste that Eleven had, and instead noticed how soft of a brown they were. Slowly, Eleven saw past the loud, disruptive laugh that Max had, and instead saw it as a sweet sound. But they still weren’t friends, and they probably never would be after starting off on the wrong foot.

But how could jealousy and anger explain the feeling in Eleven’s chest every time the redhead’s hand skimmed her own, or the way the smile on Max’s face seemed to illuminate the whole room? How could jealousy account for the countless hours Eleven had thought of the freckles that dotted Max’s face like a constellation, or how Max’s gaze on her could make her heart beat ten times faster?

Jealousy. Thought Eleven. At one point it might have been, but now it was something else.

Finally, Eleven understood. What she was feeling was anything but jealousy. But the revelation didn’t cast away the feeling in her chest, if anything, it only amplified it. Eleven’s thoughts raced away from her, only to find themselves thinking of what Max’s hand might feel like in Eleven’s grasp.

Impossible. Eleven Thought. As if that would ever happen.

It was another few weeks before Eleven realised what she had to do. She had to apologise, and she was not one for apologising. She felt awkward and angry about having to apologise, because she didn’t know how. She just wasn’t one to apologise very often. And even though she hated the thought of it, at the same time, the thought of losing the chance to become Max’s friend was worse than having to put aside her pride.

It took awhile. The time was spent rehearsing the right words to explain how sorry Eleven was for treating Max badly, and how much she wanted to be the other girl’s friend. But no string of words seemed to capture how strongly Eleven was feeling, and she eventually decided that the best way for her to apologise only required a few words.

I’m sorry. Eleven stuttered to herself. I’m sorry for being so mean.

And even though Eleven felt sick with nerves, she knew this was what she had to do. What she desperately wanted to do if it meant she could see Max’s eyes crinkle with laughter and her hair flutter in the breeze. It was going to be hard, swallowing her pride, but Eleven was beginning to think she would give up the moon if it meant she could at least call Max a friend, even though her heart longed for something more.