TW: This chapter contains mentions of self-harm and eating disorders. Read it at your own risk.
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A whole Sunday spent in bed.
When Millie thought about the aftermath of her date with Finn, she imagined something close to excitement, heart palpitations, optimism and good vibes.
Instead, all that she got was a day secluded in her bedroom, apathetically doing nothing if not watching a movie after another on the TV in front of her bed, feeling so energy-deprived that her legs couldn't make it down the mattress if not for going to the kitchen and filling her stomach with water and some food.
Sadie and Caleb did ask about the date (they are such gossip machines) but she dismissed with some vague words that could deviate the conversation. She was good at lying or pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn't.
But the worst thing is that she was lying to Finn about being okay, too.
He texted her all day, making sure to cheer her up, sending her silly selfies to make her laugh, and showing her that he was there for her. Normally, Millie would be glad for it—yet, the only thing she wants right now is to stay alone and take distance from him.
She stares at the television, eyes getting numb. How do you call that emotion in which you are so sad you can't even cry? Resignation? Hopelessness?
Because this is exactly what she feels. It's been part of her for a while by now and she can't fight it back. She can't stop thinking about how her life is a loop of misery and, no matter how she tries to react back, things never went the way she wished for.
Was it even worth trying and living like this?
Among all of these questions, the late night, the coziness of her bed, Millie falls asleep, finding the answers in her dreams.
Or nightmares.
Millie is lying next to Finn, the grass tickling her bare feet.
The sun is hot, glazing, pouring its rays on their skin. Not a spot of white cloud is in the sky, and all they are staring at is the infinite blue that paints the background of their lives.
It's indefinite where they are, or what they're doing. The words they are sharing seem to not have any sense either, but one thing is sure: Millie is happy and so is Finn. He is on his side, losing himself in the sight of her, his finger drawing and sculpting her cheek like a piece of art.
And she adores everything about him, too. In this moment, she is bewitched by his candid skin, his white linen t-shirt matching the whiteness of his pants. His eyes are two hot coals of black she could fall in. He looks like an angel, and he is all hers.
"I love you." She murmurs. It's so natural telling him this, as if it was a scheme pattern meant to happen in the circle of life.
She breathes. She eats. She sleeps. And among all of these things, Millie loves Finn. It's a law of the universe, something collectively accepted, that cannot go beyond human comprehension.
Until he replies, and the magic shatters like the frailest glass.
"I don't think I love you." Finn utters, his smile vanishing.
"W-what?"
"I will never love you." He pushes further, eyes getting dangerously dark.
Millie doesn't understand. Those words are the same she used, and it's like living the past, just in his shoes.
So she stands up, and he immediately does the same. Face to face, she feels her throat being strangled by two imaginary hands. It hurts. She can't breathe.
"You fell in love with me. But I will never love you back." His voice thunders as takes a step to reach and close their distance.
He doesn't stop.
"Why should I love you? You're pathetic."
"I-I am n-not pathetic."
"Sucker of fame." He hisses. "Slut."
He walks, getting near, but Millie loses herself into that infinite landscape that she doesn't recognize.
She trembles, her air supply cut anytime he spits his words out. "S-stop it."
"Weak. Depressed. I know you are depressed."
"H-how do you know?" She manages to ask, collecting her words as he looks at her as if she was nothing at all.
"Why don't you kill yourself?" Finn's steps accelerate, his words even more poisoned. "Why don't you finish it all, Millie? Aren't you tired of living like this?"
"How could you say this to me?" She cries, and she would say more but no other sounds can go out from her lips.
She tries and tries, but she can't spit any other sound. It's like a force is holding her back.
"Why shouldn't I? I'm heartless. You called me that."
"Finn, p-please. I am—I am s-sorry."
He reaches for her, clenching her wrists in a tight grip. He bows his head down at her, hissing at her ear.
The last final verdict.
"You will die alone."
Millie opens her eyes at last, jerking up the mattress with a scream buried down her throat. Her covers are soaked in sweat, her heart pounding as the adrenaline rushes through her.
She brings her hand to her chest, checking if she is still able to breathe. Her eyes travel around the room, grasping the familiarity of the furniture. Only then she realizes that it was just a nightmare.
She exhales all the air she could possibly expel, her fingers trembling as she tries to get a grip of herself. Even if it was common having nightmares for her, or waking up in the middle of night...Finn couldn't look more real.
Her throat is sore. She reaches for her glass on the nightstand, pouring some cold water in it and drinking fast, rehydrating her mouth and body for all the sweat lost during this concrete Hell she has lived in front of her eyes.
Reviving those moments, all of the things Finn said to her in the past months was like falling off a cliff. Honestly, she doesn't know how they ended up like this—having dates and all of that.
She should feel on the top of the world, like a girl who finally got her boy, but right now, all that she thinks about is how miserable she is.
She can't stay in bed anymore. The thought of getting back to sleep and seeing that stuff again terrifies her.
So she gropes around and makes it to the desk of Sadie and Caleb's guest room; the black pitch wrapping her is somehow reassuringly. She sits at the desk, turning the abat-jour in and writing in her daily journal, finding a distraction in that flow of fear.
She grabs a pen, starting to scribble and note down whatever she felt in this right moment on the blank pages. Trying to analyze herself at last, just like her doctor recommended her to.
The ink takes form, and the words start to cover the empty papers. It takes her more time than she would ever thought, and she ignores the time passing by. Writing should be her ultimate deterrent by stopping her anxiety and disappointment.
But there is nothing she can do to give herself an answer or a verdict about her unstable mind. Her nightmare was clear, almost prophetic: Finn will never love her, and all that she knows is that she will end up killing herself.
Killing herself. She has thought about it plenty of times in the last three years. Would she even have the courage to do so?
What would Mom think? Would Ava miss her? Would anyone care? How would Finn react?
Her pen stops to move, her nagging anxiety persistent in the back of her mind. She lets the pen drop, the tears forming easily beneath her eyes.
Nobody would care. This is what she wrote down, and reading it frightens her to the point that she backens herself a bit. She tears the paper from the journal, crumpling it up and trashing it.
"What am I doing?" She questions at herself, the first tear running down her cheek.
She crosses her arms over the desk, letting her face bend down and hide it in them as other silent tears come out her eyelids. It is even useless to cry. Everything is going to shit.
She is homeless, living on the back of her two friends.
She is taking a break from her commercial deals until May, when she is supposed to be back to work, but her career is the last thing she cares about now.
She is losing interest in anything. Gardening, doing sports, dancing, singing... All the improvements she made, they dissipated in the moment Adams touched her and her father slapped her.
And if it wasn't enough, Finn would have gone back to Los Angeles in two weeks and they would have never seen each other anymore.
Let alone the fact that he...
"He can't say that he loves me because he doesn't."
The tears reach her lips, wetting her skin and arms too, her mind stuck to the humiliation of that moment.
Millie feels dirty and ungrateful. Their date had been spectacular in each sense of it, he outdid himself by creating the perfect atmosphere and treating her like the best of girls; and despite all of his good intentions, she is here, in a room that doesn't even belong to her, at four a.m., pouring her soul out in an unashamed crying.
She isn't mad at Finn, no. She understood him. She completely did. But that doesn't mean she had to be happy about it.
He asked her for some more time to figure out his feelings. She should trust him, but she is terrified that he will abandon her and that he will come to the conclusion that they don't belong to each other.
After all, why would he even love her after everything she did to him? Why should he love... this?
She used to be his star... She used to be, in past tense. Finn is unaware of the ghost she has become, because no way in Hell he would ever consider this mess of a girl as his constant in the universe.
He doesn't know she is like this when the night comes in. He had a glimpse of it at his house, after that shared bath but... Would he be able to handle someone like her every night if his life?
He wouldn't. Nobody would live with such a burden on their shoulders. People always prefer the easy way.
She comes to the conclusion that Finn deserves better. The man she loves, the man she would die for deserves so much better.
Millie loves him endlessly, so much she could cry. He is so sweet to her. She broke him, and yet here is, trying to solve things and asking her for some time... Time that he will make him realize how unworthy she is of him.
Because, let's face it, she ruins whatever she touches. She is ruining herself, him, her family, and her career. It's all of her fucking fault.
Her mind is clouded, her self-caring stuck in a far away corner of her mind. This night is different from the others. This time, the primordial thought of ending it all sweeps through her, crushing her defenses.
Robotically, Millie gets up from the chair.
The tears still stream down her eyes as she walks to her purse. She pulls out stuff from it, slamming all the unnecessary out of it, looking for the cigarettes she asked Oliver to deliver her.
She grabs one and walks to the wall, snapping the window and the curtains open. The coldness of her actions scare her, but nothing is commanding her to stop. She lights the cigarette up, bringing her to her mouth as her fingers shake, her eyes stuck on her left arm.
Millie angles her head, blinking, somehow finding rationality in that tangle of messy thoughts and tears. Her wrist looks clean, white, too white, like a canvas needed to be painted.
And so it happens.
It starts with a burn. It's painful, but also relieving. The ash smolders against a patch of skin, making her hiss in silent pain, just enough to feel better. Just enough to feel less of failure. Just to let the pain drain somewhere else.
Just enough to stop feeling like the world is ending with her.
—
Monday morning, another working day for the cast of Stranger Things.
Production was about to end soon, there were still a couple of scenes to be filmed, and today is mostly Finn and Millie's turn. Their working schedule seemed to end at past midnight, and it's barely seven in the morning now.
Fifteen hours. Fifteen goddamn hours of filming.
Usually, Finn would complain about these amounts of work. It was kind of inhuman, and anytime he worked past sunset, he turned into one of the most annoying assholes ever existed.
No joke, the staff and the Duffers themselves ran away from him and his bad mood whenever they crossed his path outside the set. He was like a werewolf transforming when the full moon was out.
Today, though, is not like the other days.
Finn can spend all of his minutes with the girl he adores, that one he will never deserve, and that is messing with his heart and soul.
You see, he never stopped thinking about Millie after the date. Not once, from the moment of waking up to when he fell asleep. While he had lunch. While he played his guitar. While he did his Skype interview.
About that...
"Hi, Finn! Look at you, you look great." The interviewer greets him, looking impatient to chat with him behind the camera of his laptop.
"Hi. Thank you, I just took a shower. This is why." He chuckles, trying to get as comfortable as possible.
Doing interviews always seem weird to him. It's been almost ten years and, still, he swears that he can't get used to it or to the feeling of being observed and judged for whatever he says or does.
"So, we know you have been casted for the new A24 movie Redamancy! Are you excited?"
Finn is sitting in his lonely apartment, barefoot and comfy, legs shaking as he is going on with a usual interview via Skype call.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I have been over the moon since I learnt about it. It's a dream, seriously. I've never worked with the Safdie Brothers, and, uhm, I just can't wait to see what this project will turn into. They're brilliant."
"Any news of the main cast so far?"
He mumbles. "Not that I am aware of. I think they're still looking for the role of Madison. I really have no clue." He licks his lips, trying to stay as serious and professional as possible.
But then his mind drives to Millie again.
One thing that makes him smile at the camera in front of him is the fact that 'Madison' is Millie's almost-name. Madison Bobby Brown, this is what she would have been called. It doesn't sound bad, but 'Millie' was more unique.
It was sweet, he liked the way his tongue touched his teeth whenever he uttered it. Or the way it was precious to say even during a fight. It was gentle, and adorable. Just like her.
God. Get a grip, Finn.
He quits smiling like an idiot to the interviewer and tries to formulate the best answers he can give to her.
The journalist of Variety on the screen mumbles. "The movie is based on the New York Times best seller psychological thriller. It revolves around a tormented and dramatic love story, very different from the material you work with usually."
"Okay, look," Finn laughs, playing with his messy hair and rubbing his fingers on one eye. "That's true. Besides Stranger Things and Ghostbusters, I stirred clear from romcoms or possible love plots. But this one intrigued me to the point I auditioned for it. It was a good piece of literature, I'm honored to play Alexander. He's a great guy."
"Did you feel Alexander like yours while reading the script? What emotions did the book give to you?"
"Well, uhm..." He nibbles his lips in a thinking way. All that his mind does is thinking of Millie.
What is she doing now? Is she thinking about him? Should he call her again after the interview ends and check up on her? Or he could do crazy shit and drive to Cadie's and stay with her.
No, maybe he needed her space. But he swears he will call her as soon as he can.
"Finn?" The interviewer gently calls for him again.
Finn nods, growing red in the face. Holy fuck. This needs to end. What the hell is happening to him?
"Yeah. Uh... It's very... The girl, Madison, is in love with him. And he is in love with her, too, to the point he almost destroys himself. It's, like, a tormented love story and somehow, in a very personal way, it reminded me of something I lived. I felt deeply involved with the novel."
Fuck. He didn't actually say that. Millie, what are you doing to him?
"—So it reminds you of your experience?"
"Y-yeah, yeah, sort of. Without the drugs and everything, of course." He lets out a chuckle, clearly embarrassed.
Honestly, he just wants this to be over.
The only thing he desires is shutting down his laptop and calling Millie. Damn, he was clingy.
"Passing to Stranger Things, any news yet? How is filming going?"
He blesses the switch of topic. Talking about romance and what not in front of people never fails to embarrass him.
He is just made like that... not a dude of big words or the most romantic one, he wasn't a Prince Charming, and quite frankly, he was an asshole most of the time.
But he liked to be sweet with Millie. He liked to see her smiling whenever he called her baby, or how her body trembled when he touched or kissed her. He could die and go to Heaven for the moans she makes, or how little she is beneath his hands.
"Filming is going well. We are near the end to this adventure that has lasted ten years. We all have been kind of emotional, especially Millie."
Again, another excuse is good to bring her up.
If in the past he would avoid to mention her name, now he has all the rights to say it out loud.
"How do you feel?" The interviewer smiles. "Are you going to miss your colleagues? You guys have known each other since you were little kids!"
"For sure, but I am pretty confident we will stick together even after. Sadie and Caleb invited all of us to their wedding... and we are family. We are great friends, we love each other and yeah, uhm... yeah we love each other. Very much."
He is an idiot for not telling her that he loved her when he had the chance.
But that was not the right moment and he shouldn't feel guilty for it. Millie said she did understand. He can't force himself things that he doesn't want to say.
The right moment will come. He is confident of it. Just a little bit more before having her all for himself and never letting her go. Before losing in the galaxy that she is...
Back to the present, Finn's eyes glow behind his sunglasses. Sometimes, you need to lose yourself in order to find the right path again. He lost himself and he found her in his life, waiting for him, still. That was a sign.
He will never let her go.
His car approaches the gates of the studios, pulling over just behind the barriers.
"Good morning, Mr. Wolfhard." The security man welcomes him from the security office just next to his car.
"Morning, Al." He greets him through the window of the Audi, waiting for the automatic barrier of Gem Studios to go up and let him go through.
"Is Millie already here?" Finn asks, impatient to see her again after the date.
It's been barely two days but he needs to see her smile.
Al nods while sipping his coffee. "Oh. Yes, she came here forty minutes ago. Miss Brown was an early bird today."
Weird. Millie being early?
"That would be a first." Finn laughs, waving at him once again and driving inside to the usual parking lot.
He looks for her red Mini Cooper, and he finds it in the usual spot. He parks next to it and grabs his backpack, his mind full of Millie—They have two hours or so before starting to film, and they need to revise some scenes together.
With all of his positive vibes, Finn walks briskly to her trailer, greeting the staff, PAs and the security sauntering around the area. God, he is so fucking happy to see her. He can't wait to kiss her.
He knocks on the door of her trailer, and she hears her replying with a sleepy: "Come in."
He walks inside of it, eyes scanning the little living room space.
Millie is cuddled up on her sofa, wrapped around her blanket, her scripts and notes left open on the little table near it, with a venti cup of Starbucks already consumed.
"Hi..." She lets out with a yawn. He can feel her drowsiness sweeping through him.
He pouts adorably, walking up at her and letting his backpack unceremoniously slump to the floor. "Look at my baby angel," He holds her cheek, looking at her attentively. "What are you doing here so early?"
"Couldn't sleep well at home." She replies with a small voice, her eyes fluttering heavy as she meets his for a bit and changing direction right after.
Millie looks drained out. The bags dug under her eyes concern him. She didn't look like this yesterday, when they FaceTimed together.
"Well, it seems to me you are about to sleep now..." He points at her. She is a literal little bundle of love. "Want some company? I'm a great pillow."
"I don't know," She immediately drops her gaze, glaring. "Maybe you have better to do."
Now, he knows something is wrong and it goes beyond her lack of sleep. Millie refusing cuddling wasn't in her DNA.
She is not talking, she can't keep eye contact with him for more than one second and she didn't even text him that she was on set.
According to Finn's vocabulary, all of these are red flags.
"What could be better than cuddling you?"
He chooses sweetness, a tad bit of extra loving for his girl that is, without any doubt, sad about something.
"Apparently anything." She whispers, and even though he can't properly see it, he can spot her hands moving and fidgeting under her blanket.
This is way worse than he thought.
"Bullshit." He removes his jacket and sunglasses, placing them on the chair and table.
He places an arm under her knees and one on her back, lifting her and her blanket up. Millie anchors herself to his neck, speechless and deep down inside, so pleased to be held by him.
Then, Finn squats down and sits on the sofa again, letting her sit on his lap and holding her like the baby she is. The leather couch is too small, they are in a trailer, after all. But he blesses this closeness, as he can feel her warmth and her scent being the only lethal mix that can bring him right to Heaven.
He concludes by securing his arm around her hip and pulling her close. They are face to face now.
"Good morning, beautiful." He starts, smiling and kissing the tip of her nose.
She manages to show him a crooked smile, but there is no happiness in it. "Hi."
He studies her face with a deep scowl. "You look weird today."
Millie shrugs her shoulders. "I'm okay. Just tired."
Finn runs his hand up and down her back, comforting her as much as he can with gentle caresses. "Tell me what's wrong. Remember? Building some trust."
She closes her eyes painfully slowly, the answer very clear on her mind, just to open them again. She looks conflicted whether to tell him or not.
"Rough night." She says vaguely, sight unstable.
"How rough?"
She still looks at the wall of the trailer. "Terrible. I had a nightmare and I can't stop thinking about it."
At this point, he should go for it.
"It does concern me, doesn't it?" He wants to know so he knows how to face the problem.
You see, Finn is not an idiot. He knows her pretty well. She is trying to avoid him and she is being cold, nothing he didn't see before. The point is that this is not a silly fight or something lighthearted, no.
This is way much deeper than that. Inside him, he knows it has to do with what happened at the picnic.
As matter of fact, Millie nods, swallowing down a lump.
"What did I do in your nightmare?" His voice is soft, he can't believe he can use this shade with someone.
"Mill, come on..." He kisses her cheek, breathing in her skin scent. "Talk to me. I don't like seeing you like this."
She places a hand over his cheek, pushing herself to stare at him without bursting into a cry. Finn looks at her like that, reassuring and angelic, yet she can't believe he will fall for her.
He still needs time to figure his feelings out, this cannot mean anything good.
"You called me—you called me like those bad things you already called me. I don't remember anymore, but I—I remember sucker of fame, or-or that you—" She shakes her head, lips pressed just to not let out the cry she has kept for all morning.
Like that, Finn's cups her cheek, caressing it. He stays silent, but he listens carefully to everything she has to say. Each word of her has a value.
"You don't love me. You never will. And I believed it because," Her tears walls up her eyes, her vision a blur. "Because how can you love somehow who lied to you and broke you? Someone who is always so sad?"
The night before comes back, and the same feelings of unease rush through her in a hurricane of flashbacks. The flames of her wrist, the smell of the disinfectant gel to heal the little burn, the pain of being too much for a world made of materialistic people who see her as a walking check.
And with that, all the hurt he did to Finn aches her. He cried for her nights and days, or so they told her. He was incapable to love someone after her, and it was all of her fault.
"—How can you love me again after everything I did to you?"
Her question makes his heart leap. He genuinely is asking himself the same thing, but does the answer even matter at this point?
He is not a guy who believes in true love or big love stories, but then, he also knows that his relationship with Millie is not conventional.
It's more, it's so much more he is scared to admit to the depth of himself. It could be novel material, stuff you read on books and you swear that will never happen to you. But, then, before you can even realize it, it does happen.
This is how Finn would describe falling for Millie once again; it is that subtle dark blur you see while closing and opening your eyes again. And when you see the light, it has already happened. Your life has changed, and nothing will ever be the same.
"You deserve b-better." She keeps on and on. "You deserve a girl—a girl ten times more beautiful, more like you, happier, with a stable life. And y-yet—yet you're wasting time with a mess like me—"
"Millie." He interrupts her, his sight never leaving her as he brushes some strands of hair behind her ear. "You can't dictate what or who I want. These choices are mine, and mine only."
"Well," She sniffles. "Your choices are wrong."
He ignores her, shaking his head.
"I want you, Millie." Never in his life he has been so sincere. What once required liters of alcohol to admit, now it takes just one caress and the look of hers that drives him crazy.
"You shouldn't." She sniffles, and every tear she shed represents a personal failure for him. "I'm not good for you."
He never breaks eye contact. His only challenge is making her understand her worth. "You are good for me. I've always wanted someone like you."
"With those eyes..." He traces his thumb beneath her eyelashes, collecting some tears.
"With that mouth... That hair..." He persists, looking at the warm flames of chocolate framing her face, some damp strand sticky to her wet salty lips.
"With those pretty dimples..." He smiles, tapping his finger on her apple cheek, right where the usual little curve of joy appears when he makes her laugh.
"With a myriad of imperfections that match with mine." He travels his hand down to her chest, fanning it where her heart beats.
"Someone could ask me who my perfect girl would be. And I would say you. Thousand times you, Millie. Starlight, I want you." And that's all he will ever know.
"If you're willing to move on from your doubts like I'm moving on from our break up, I think... I think we can give each other a second chance. We both deserve it, don't you think?"
"But you said you can't say that you love me yet..."
He knew that she would have finally let it out. His words at the date only amplified her insecurities and, God, he would beat himself for how idiot he was for ruining their moment together and her expectations.
He will always carry that crying of two nights before on his shoulders for the rest of his life.
Still, he couldn't lie to Millie. He wanted to say it when the right time came. It's almost there, he feels it, he knows himself. That would be the most important thing he will ever say in his life.
"You know I'm a little bit... stiff when it comes to these topics. It's just—I am Finn. I am stupid, too much of an introvert when it comes to love or deep emotions, hum..."
He sighs, cupping her chin and raising it a bit, so he can indulge in her eyes again. If only she knew how beautiful she was even when she cried.
"You know, about it, my dad defines me as emotionally constipated." He lets out a silly smile, hoping and praying to some divinity to see her laugh.
And she does. She really does.
Millie giggles, and the pressure churning the pit of her stomach ceases. "You—You said so many pretty things to me. I don't think you're emotionally constipated."
"Then, that means something, don't you think? If I can be that open to you."
"I guess you're right..." Millie brings her hand to her own face, wiping away the remnants of her tears.
She is finally getting calmer, his words helping her numbing the pain.
Finn should feel relieved but something catches his attention. He scowls, holding her wrist and looking at it very carefully. She has a couple of band aids on it, and these weren't there on Saturday.
"Millie? What's this?" His question should be way more composed; instead, it reveals all of his fears.
Please. Be it an accident.
"I burnt myself." She makes up a quick lie, a wave of panic rushing through her. "U-unintentionally. I cooked and I ended up burning myself with a pan."
"A pan? You don't even cook." He presses her, trying to see through her.
"I was helping Sadie. I don't remember what I was doing, honestly." Acting comes very handy. She is just too good at it.
Too good that, sometimes, she could fool the person who knew her the most.
"Make sure to be more careful next time." He takes her wrist to his lips, smashing a tiny kiss on the band-aid. "I want you alive."
Take it as you want. The double meaning in his words is implied but he can't go further from that because she doesn't know he knows.
She nods, feeling a rush of goosebumps tickling her back while she stares at him playing and kissing with her wrist, his lips running up her hand. He gingerly kisses her palm, admiring how cute and little her head and heart lines are. His wet, bottom lip ran to her fingers, kissing each of the tips with devotion.
Millie enjoys seeing his attentions, her heart fluttering for how careful he is in handling her. She treats her so good and her mind is still stuck on how undeserving she is of him.
"I love your hands. Have I ever told you that?"
She shakes her head, glimpsing a smile. "This is the first time."
But she could tell it from that time he came into her room, wasted, and started to kiss her arm, hands and fingers just like he did now. It was true that a drunk mind speaks the truth most of the time.
"They are so fucking cute. I like holding them. And I like when they linger on me." He concludes by placing her palm on his cheek, his eyes dreamy and mesmerized by the movement of her eyelashes and the warmth she releases.
All of the bad mood drains out temporarily, her sight so full of him. She is relieved and comfortable, her body at ease whenever he looks at her like that. Like she was pure wonder.
"I like it, too."
Something in her eyes shifts. It is so sudden she doesn't even see it coming, but it feels just right.
As if a force is pulling her close, Millie focuses on his mouth, her hand still stuck on his face. Her lips warily tease his bottom lip, biting it and sucking it, inhaling in his heavy breaths as they were hers.
His eyes are soft but with a shade of black around his pupils she sees only in certain circumstances.
She lingers for a second before kissing him, the desperation in her mouth crystal clear. She chains his neck with her arms, pressing all of her love against his mouth. He slips his hand through her hair, his lips nibbling her soft flesh, all of his sense awakening.
She is the gasoline that ignites his heart.
His hand slips under her tee, on her bare belly, and he can feel her stomach cave for that, the skin-to-skin contact catching her by surprise despite being what she wants the most. He runs his hand up and fans it on her hip, gripping her skin tight as the kiss gets hotter and needed, her sighs getting the most pleasurable sound he has ever heard.
They would go further because, Hell, they need to, but a knock at the trailer's door claims them back right away, causing her to leap on him.
Their eyes widen, looking at each other in panic.
"Who—Who's it?" Millie calls, fixing her t-shirt in a rush.
"Honey, it's Sarah. Are you awake? Can I come in?"
"NO!" She screams, losing her cool as Finn is almost losing it seeing her like that.
Ruffled hair, red in the face, her body so ready to react to his touch. Fuck. He is turned on, but he can't be like that on set. Holy shit, did he still have some sort of work ethic?
"Alright." Sarah doesn't sound convinced, but then she adds something else. "Is everything alright in there?"
"—Super okay." Millie would be if she didn't interrupt them.
There was a little pause before Sarah started to speak again.
"When you're done with whatever you're doing with Finn, we need you to come to the hair trailer."
Millie almost faints, looking at him. "How do you know Finn is here!?"
"Where else would he be if not with you?" She calls from outside. "Hair trailer, both of you!"
Only when they hear her steps getting further, Finn can't hold his shit anymore and cackles at her face.
"W-why are you laughing for?" She frowns. "That was humiliating—"
He passes a hand in his face, rubbing it over his eyes as the laughters come out, pouring on her. She should feel offended by it, but seeing him so happy helps to make her feel less embarrassed.
Her eyes are wide, his laugh contagious. "Hey! Why are you laughing like a moron?"
"Because you're right. You're bold. You are absolutely, fucking bold." He cups her cheeks and smashes a hard kiss on her lips.
She smiles. "I never lie, Wolfhard."
"You know... I really liked how this whole conversation finished." He wiggles his brows, pointing his chin to her t-shirt, the implication very clear.
Millie curves her lips into a smirk . "Pretty sure you didn't finish anything."
"There's always time for that. Come on, baby. Time to get to work, or Sarah will shove all of my hair off in revenge." He pats her hips, prompting her to stand up with him.
"Oh, believe me, she is capable of it." She laughs, unwrapping herself from him and the blanket reluctantly.
He was the favorite place she wanted to be.
She sees him collecting his backpack again and wearing his shoes, smiling a bit and reminding herself how they end up the way they were.
She was grateful of him and the fact that, after all, he was doing exactly what he promised her: never letting her down.
"Finn?"
He turns around at her, a little smile hidden in the corner of his lips. "Yes?"
I love you.
"Thank you for reassuring me. I feel... I feel a little bit better."
He caresses her face, brushing the strands of hair behind both of her ears. "Your happiness is mine."
—
The working day has been exhausting for everybody, especially for Millie.
Screaming on the top of her lungs, repeating a take seventy-eight times, and releasing all of her energies on such a frail day were a personal challenge that she didn't want to fail.
Despite being mentally drained though, she still loved her job and she considered it a good way to forget about her life for a bit.
She didn't have to be Millie when she portrayed a character; she could be anyone and this was somehow therapeutic, maybe the only reason why she didn't lose it yet.
She couldn't imagine being herself full-time. It was simply unbearable to deal with.
Towards midnight, the cast and crew called the quits, sending everyone home for the tiring day and complimenting each other for the nice job.
Finn can't lie: he feels like a bus ran over him multiple times, and fighting scenes were new even for him. But this movie was different, challenging, the last installment of their saga, so they had to show new skills.
Mike Wheeler is not a fighter, and honestly, neither is he. His arms and legs are not strong, despite being a pretty good runner. But Finn has to admit that he shares one thing with his character: that whenever someone tries to hurt their special ones, their inner force clearly awoke.
"Oh, Finn!" Shawn calls for him, a pack of scripts under his arms and a backpack on his shoulder as he approaches him. "Amazing job today. You guys were incredibile!"
"Thanks." Finn yawns unashamedly, stepping out from his trailer with all of his stuff and ready to go home. "It was cool. The fight parts nearly killed me, though. I can't feel my toes anymore."
"Yeah, but Millie got your back. Did you see her? She's like a sponge. She learns so quickly, the moves and everything." Shawn looks so wonderstruck whenever he talks about her.
Who couldn't be in awe while seeing her acting? She was just that amazing.
"For real. Don't know how the fuck she does it. She seemed like a little war machine. I was scared of her!" Finn chuckles softly, starting to walk next to him.
Then, Shawn takes the occasion and lowers his voice. "About that... is she okay? Something was off in her face today but I didn't dare to ask."
She is far from okay but this is her business and he doesn't want to worry Shawn.
Finn shrugs his shoulders. "She had better days. Her life is a little bit chaotic right now."
"I know. Keep an eye on her, would you? We are worried about... the situation with her father, all the pressure. This is just too overwhelming."
"I know it is, but she will be okay. She has me."
She has him. That was it. This was not a casual thing to say, it was simply the truth. No matter what would have happened, from now on he was about to stay with her. His most important promise.
"That's a relief. I am happy you figured everything out."
"Yeah... It was a long process. And I, uh, was kind of an asshole."
"Kind of? Seriously, when you declined to film with her I wanted to strangle you."
Finn shrugs his shoulders. That belongs to the past. "But we made it, didn't we?"
"You did." Shawn gives him a solid pat on his shoulder before walking away. "See you tomorrow. Drive safe."
"Sure will. Good night."
Now, Finn's thoughts can fully focus on Millie again. She should be in her trailer right now, collecting her stuff.
"Mills?" He knocks at the door, expecting her to be ready by now. "We're going home. Are you ready?"
"Millie?" He calls for her again, but no other response comes from inside the trailer.
Carefully, he takes some steps and leads on the inside where all the lights are still on. He looks around, and there she is, in the same clothes of this morning, curly hair collected in a mini-high ponytail and sitting on the couch... sleeping like a log and snoring a bit.
Finn scoffs at that, seeing her breathing heavily, with her phone cupped in her hands. She really did fall asleep like that, like a grandma on her chair.
If he was a real asshole, he would take a picture of her just to tease her a bit, but he knows better than that.
Millie had a bad day; a good sleep was what she needed.
So, he collects her bag and throws it over his free shoulder. He squats down and picks her up, this time like a child, as her legs naturally find their way to wrap around his torso. His hands are intertwined together under her butt but that's the only way to keep some sort of balance.
He carefully makes his way out of the trailer, walking with her in his arms toward the parking lot, the few members of the crew throwing him curious and funny glances.
Well, that was more humiliating (and tiring) than he fucking thought.
His embarrassment ends when he hears her snuggling her face against his neck, the sound of her beating heart pressed over his, the feeling of her body compact over his skin... and this couldn't get any better. It's just magic, the best of medicine.
"Hey Finn!" Matt screams from his car. "Are you free next Saturday? Sarah and I need a nanny full time!"
"Did someone threaten you to death to do this or was carrying her intentional?" Ross adds to the chorus of lighthearted mockery.
It was way too late to snap back at his directors' bullshit.
"You're lucky that I owe you my career." Finn frowns, avoiding the Duffers' words and making sure to place Millie inside his car.
No way he would have let her drive home alone at such an hour and all sleepy.
"Alright," He cups the back of her head and lowers himself enough to put her on the passenger seat, trying not to hurt her. "Okay, here. Keep sleeping, angel. Good."
He puts the seat belt on her, and they're ready to go.
Millie has been in the world of dreams for pretty much all the road, her slumber needed after the nightmare of the night before. She didn't realize where she was until Finn shook her shoulder a little bit.
"Millie?"
After the third attempt, she finally blinks her eyes, vision a little bit blurry. She looks around, squinting her eyes to define where she is.
Is she inside a car?
"Where am I?" She yawns, moaning a little when she sees Finn staring down at her with lovely eyes.
"Parking lot of my apartment."
That is enough to fully wake her up. She jerks off the seat. "Uh? W-what? But Sadie and Caleb—"
"Relax, they know. I texted them while I was driving here. You fell asleep in your trailer, and I wouldn't have let you drive your way to them."
"But—why didn't you take me there?"
"Is it bad to say that I wanted to spend the night with you and keep an eye on you?"
She shakes her head, "No. I think it's adorable."
"Good, or you'd make me pass for a creep." He laughs, helping her get out the car by holding her hand and shoving her bag on his shoulder.
"So..." She suppresses a smile, squeezing his spaghetti hands. "You carried me to the car? Without breaking yourself into halves?"
"Apparently," He huffs, locking his car by clicking his remote. "Oh, and people saw us. Tomorrow they are going to tease the shit of us, especially Matt and Ross. Be aware."
"Ugh. I hate teasing." She lets out a grunt by linking her arm to his and walking with him to the inside of the building.
"Haven't they teased us since we were twelve?"
"Yeah, but now they'll be even more annoying!"
He nods. "Agree. But that's our life. Full of nosey little brats and what not."
They take the elevator and step into his apartment. It is just how Millie remembered it.
The first time she got here it's when she had that hallucination about Mason and Finn kindly decided to guest her for the night. If the memory doesn't trick her, Violet was there, too, being the usual... bitch.
Somehow, the thought of her being with Finn makes her feel so she shakes it off her mind.
"Alright. You can put your things wherever you want." He yawns awfully loud, throwing his stuff on the table like it was trash—in a little empty spot, as the whole living room is a complete mess.
Millie frowns in almost disgust. His Atlanta flat was way different from the one in Los Angeles. Did he even clean his things up? This was even worse than her room!
"Finn, have you ever heard of cleaning? Or the concept of hygiene?" She slips her shoes off with him, looking around and spotting all of his clothes piled up on a chair in a senseless knot and dirty dishes all around the kitchen.
The environment is not dirty, just very messy. Perhaps, Finn was one of those who found his stuff in their chaos.
"This is nothing. You should see my bedroom at my parent's house."
She blinks. "Is it even worse?"
He nods, laughing. "Yup. The only things that are in order are my guitars, my beautiful baby girls."
"Why do I suddenly feel jealous over some lifeless instruments?" Millie giggles with him as he beckons her to follow her to his bedroom.
"Hey, now. They're not lifeless. Guitars have a soul. Just like you and I."
"The night makes you a poet, Wolfhard. But I can't do poetry now, I just want a bed."
Millie bumps at his hip, stepping in his bedroom first. It's weird how all natural this is, as if she did this million of times when in reality it was the first time in years.
Why did they have to be so natural in everything they did?
"So, uhm, where are we going to sleep?" Millie asks, looking at his bedroom for the first time.
Plain. Simple. Grey walls and cream sheets, a double sized bed with a huge wardrobe on the side and a desk full of streamer-stuff: a microphone, headphones, a mess of wires, even a game controller... pretty boyish.
"Right here?" He gestures at the bed. "Alone or with me. You decide."
It's not like she wants to sleep somewhere else that is not his arms.
Millie places her bag on the drawer, hiding a little smile. "I thought it was implied that I want to sleep with you."
"Yeah?" A mischievous grin blooms on his face. "You are already that addicted to me?"
"Quite the contrary," Millie throws him a naughty look. "You are the one who's obsessed with me."
"That's true. I have all of your pics saved and a wall full of your Polaroids." He kneels down, holding the hem of her sweatshirt, faking a desperate cry. "Marry me, Millie. Marry me or I'll never know peace!"
Millie scowls as she sees him doing that dramatic scene. "You're an idiot."
"My wallet has a picture of you. I see jewels, and I think of you. Everyday, everything about you, Millie Bobby Brown!"
She laughs at that. "Get up, silly. Why can't you be serious for the life of you?"
"What?" He frowns. "I am not lying."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. A picture in your wallet and jewels? Please. As if I'd believe it."
He doesn't feel like contradicting her. The right timing will come for everything.
He stands up again. "You know what? Since you don't trust me, you don't deserve to see the proof. I'll go take a shower, leaving you here, alone, pondering about your life and mistakes."
"Oh, no." She passes a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose. "How can I survive without you?"
"Not my problem, baby starlight." He winks at her, getting out of the room and closing the door behind him.
Millie doesn't want to waste time; she really craves that sleep and she is in safe hands now, with nothing to fear about. She catches a long band t-shirt from his wardrobe (Twin Peaks again? Finn mentioned them a lot!), deciding to use that as pajamas. The climate was getting warmer day by day in Atlanta.
She wraps her hair in a tight bun, folding her clothes on the chair and wearing Finn's t-shirt that works more as nightgown, covering barely her thighs. She lies on her favorite part of the bed, the right one, and she would fall asleep immediately if it wasn't for Finn entering the room without knocking.
"—Sorry, I forgot my stuff."
She jerks up the mattress. "Have you ever heard about knocking? And you're—naked!"
He is wearing just his pants, and nothing more.
Millie finds herself scanning him once again. It's not the first time she sees him like that, and he looks handsome but... Those scars on his collarbone are a mystery to her. Why are they there? He said he got them on set but she doubted it.
"Quit the sarcasm. You're seriously half naked."
"Yeah, this is what happens when you have to go inside the shower. You know, soap, naked skin, tons of water..." He makes a sign to go on with his finger, but Millie stops him with a grunt.
She rolls her eyes, "Get over it, I am not stupid."
He lightly scoff, "I always forget how bitchy and unfunny you get when you're sleep deprived. It's like someone stuck a fork up your ass." He walks to his drawer, pulling out his pajamas and tucking it under his arm.
"Hey! I'm not a bitch!"
He ignores that statement.
"Nevertheless," He mumbles with an accomplished grin as he scans her. "You look cute with my stuff on you. Twin Peaks, eh? Good choice."
"Yeah?"
He nods, that boyish grin making it so easy for Millie to fall in love all over again. "But you would look even better without."
She huffs. He always told her that. "I'll take note of it."
"Good." He is about to walk out but abruptly stops. Something comes to his mind. "Wait, can I get a kiss from my baby before I go back in the shower?"
Millie smiles, nodding. She is way too deep in her tiredness and sentiments to question his sudden spurt of energy in the middle of the night. Also, she didn't remember Finn being so happy or adorable.
"But I'll kiss you in my way."
Finn drops his own clothes and grabs her t-shirt by the hem. He pulls it up so that he can tug his head under it, facing her bare skin and her sports bra. He peppers kisses on her belly, chest and breast, feeling her body quiver in little chills for it.
"Is this your way to kiss me?! You are—so stupid! You're—" She giggles, the first tickle engulfing her throat as she looks down. "Tickling me!"
He laughs, wrapping his arms around her hips. She is warm. "I don't want to get out from here. You are so soft."
It's wholesome. He rests his ear to her chest, feeling her heart beating. Did it always beat this fast when he was around her? Is this what happens when you are in love with someone?
Her heartbeat has this rhythm because she is in love with him and having concrete proof of it... It is all that he could ever ask for.
"Uhm, you know you have to get out from there eventually, right?" Millie calls for him, laughing.
He kisses her cleavage, still not moving his head from there. "What if I don't? Huh?" He leaves a trace of wet kisses down her chest. "What if I want to kiss you like this forever?"
"I wouldn't complain. But you're tickling me, and I could kick you involuntary." She giggles, hooking a finger in her collar tee so she can see his face down there.
"Alright," He kisses both of her breasts. "Although next time I'll make sure to pull the t-shirt off. After all..." He rolls his eyes up to her.
"It is mine. I can do whatever the hell I want with it."
Millie resists to the impulse to kiss him again and shut his mouth for good. "You're still talking about the tee?"
Finn's brain screams a loud Not exactly but Millie doesn't need to know it.
"Sure." His head pops out from the t-shirt at last and he conveys a fast kiss on her lips. "You're the dirty minded, not me."
She giggled, not really feeling to deny that. Because she simply was.
People would never expect her to be like that—she has always been the angel, you know, the one that could never swear in a video or even hint at controversial topics.
It didn't matter that she was twenty and with all the rights to joke or being naughty as a normal person, Millie was still seen as a twelve years old, and she had to behave like that according to the public.
Finn is about to quit the room, but something catches Millie's attention. Something she wanted to know for a while.
"Finn—Wait." She holds his wrist with both hands. "Before you go back... Can I ask you how you got those?"
He makes a confused face, not getting what she is referring to. So, Millie raises her hand, pointing at the scars, and he swears that he feels his stomach twist in panic when his eyes follow the path that leads to...
"My scars?" The flat of his hand defensively touches his collarbone. He doesn't even realize he has just done it.
She nods, "Yes. I really want to know."
He looks around. "I've already told you I got these on set one day."
"I know but..." Her words die when she studies them more attentively.
It's just a few scratches, visible, both on the right and left side of his neck, shaped like horizontal crosses, deep enough to give her cold chills down her spine the more she stares at them.
Could it really be an accident? They seem to be there for a reason. The shape of those scars it's not natural or casual.
She starks her eyes up, that eye contact giving him a thrill of terror down his spine. "You said to trust each other. And I would like to know what happened to you."
"Millie, it's not that... It's just... I am not sure you want to hear this. You are tired, you got a long day, you cried—"
"—Don't treat me like I can't handle things just because I had a bad day. I want to be here for you." This time, she won't allow him to bottle up his secrets and dismiss her.
She has her problems, that's true. To be fair, she has an infinite amount. But Finn is hiding something, and she has to look out for him. She wants to be helpful, too, comforting him, getting to know him better and understanding what happened to him.
He looks aside. "I don't know."
Millie didn't remember seeing him so unwilling to speak to her. Even when he supposedly hated her he didn't lose a chance to win over an argument or insult her...
Why is he so reluctant?
Millie frowns softly, prompting him to sit next to her with a hand patting on the mattress.
A cold shower washes over him, the invisible drops hitting him like bullets. After all of this time... Here it is, coming to the light. The darkest part of his life that he refused to utter out loud.
Silence takes residence between them as he closes the door behind him. He drags his feet to her as a heavy ball is chained to his ankle. He has no way out this time.
He sits next to her and cups both of her hands, looking at them as he is incapable to hold her sight. If he did, he would start to cry. And he can't do that in front of her, or in front of anyone.
As if Millie could read all of his fears, she uses her other hand and places a hooked finger beneath his chin, raising it until their gazes lock. His eyes are pure gloss.
"I won't judge you," Millie fixes a curl behind his ear. "I will never do so. Trust me."
Trusting each other. The only thing he has to do to make this relationship work.
Finn incredibly nods, his brain giving him all of the words that he can't let out.
It is so difficult showing her a part of him he is not proud of, the shame that he has been carrying for three years and that he masked behind a thick wall of hatred. But like the best of miracles, Millie managed to wreck it down.
He lets her hands go when he feels his fingers quivering. A leap of courage is all it takes for him to let it out.
"I did this to myself," Finn's pupils get darker. "Three years ago."
Three years ago. The timing is self-explanatory.
She knew it. She doesn't have any idea how, but she did. She would ask him a myriad of questions, but this is his moment, and she can only listen attentively like he always did with her.
"I didn't want to tell you because I don't want you to feel bad for me." His voice fills with disgust, more towards himself than the pathetic sign of weakness he has inflicted to himself.
A ruined body for a ruined heart. Only fair.
"Why did you do it?" Her wrist throbs, the same one she burnt the night before giving her all the answers.
Why did she burn herself? She still doesn't have an answer. It was a combination of pain that lead her to the very closest thing she had to death. A broken heart, broken expectations, a family that was not perfect, the world judging her, the pressure, the endless disappointment...
Finn must have felt all of this, too.
"You left me. I didn't know what to do. I felt like—" He tries to explain it, struggling to bury down the first sob down his throat. "I felt like drowning. I felt lost."
"You were... you were gone, Millie. You broke my heart. You lied to me for months. I was confused about my future as an actor. I didn't have fun with it anymore. I kept fighting with my parents and my manager..."
"You can't be serious." Mary shakes her head in astonishment. Her son's behavior is turning reckless each day passing by.
"Finn, son, you know we would never urge you to do stuff, but you are wasting your entire career—" Eric tries to calm him down or make him reason, but he seems to not listen.
"I don't care." Finn shuts them up like that, not caring, as the decision was already made. "I want to take a break. Maybe go to a school for directors, working on my scripts and take a huge step back from acting."
"You have to care!" Ryan shouts. "Kid, you are almost nineteen, you've just finished shooting your last season and your movie. This only can go up, you can't quit it now! You would regret it!"
"Listen, I did so much in the last seven years. I have my own clothing line, I have my band with Malcolm, I shot my short film and it did pretty good. I won't go to college and I can, you know, do everything I want with Josh and Billy. They love filming, too."
"You are an actor. An actor. You can pursue your directing career without throwing your real one in the trash!" Ryan is about to combust, and he never dared to raise his voice with him, let alone with his parents there.
But Finn seems adamant than ever before.
"I don't care. I'll move to LA and I'll see what I can do. It's my life, and it never will be yours."
"It was a confusing time, but I still could manage to be happy if you were there next to me. You gave me answers. My starlight. You always did." His voice assumes a tone of sweetness, until he closes his eyes, inevitably thinking about what had happened next.
"Until you broke up with me. And the world stopped having sense."
Millie presses her lips together. She feels horrible and dirty like she never did in her life. She pushed him off a cliff, and thinking about it once again is just the ultimate confirmation of how much she is unworthy of him.
"I came to you, you know?" He tries to control the spams of his voice, rubbing his hand over his eyes to wipe the tears forming.
"The night after we broke up. I wanted to see you, talk to you, but your father didn't let me go through the gates. Robert told me you were already flying to London."
"Who's there?"
Finn looks at the security camera of Millie's mansion, impatient, breath missing as he feels already so unbearably distant from her.
She told him she didn't love him and he couldn't wrap his head around it. It was... It was not real. It was like someone took all the colors out of his life. Useless, boring, depressing. He cried for all fucking night, but he needs to talk to her before his sadness converts into something way deeper and poisoned.
Yes, they can still save it. Maybe if they talked. Maybe if she gave him time to ponder about it. Maybe if she gave him one solid reason and a good apology. Maybe if he stopped being so stubborn, yes, they could do something about it.
"It's Finn," He sniffles, anxious, hands in his pockets as his legs tremble. "I need to-I need to see Millie."
"She is not home." The voice coming from the interphone belongs to Robert. Of course.
"When—When is she coming home? I really need to talk to her."
"Didn't you know?" His voice is pure mockery. "She has left today. She's on her way to London."
Finn swears he doesn't remember what air is. He can't process the fact that she is...
Millie is... His brain doesn't let him formulate the obvious answer.
"But she—She was supposed to leave in a few days!" Panic sweeps through him.
How could she leave just like that? A day after they broke up?
"She changed her mind. All thanks to you for upsetting her last night. Nice job in ruining my daughter. As if she didn't have other serious business to deal with besides your pathetic claim on her."
Upsetting him? He was the one who has been fooled and deluded for months. How fucking dare she playing the upset one.
Finn doesn't know what to say. He knows Robert is just taunting him, but he still needed to talk to her. They needed to.
But she decided to take that goddamn flight earlier and take the easy way out, leaving him alone, making him feel exactly what she has considered him for all of these months...
Someone to fool around and to abandon when things get too serious.
This was who he was for Millie. A nullity.
"I told you that this thing between you two wouldn't have worked. You didn't want to listen to me, now you're paying the consequences. She despises you, and she doesn't want to see you. Stay away from us and from her."
Millie breathes loud, trying to suppress her guilt. "I didn't know you l-looked for me... Dad didn't tell me this. And I decided to leave earlier because... Because I was so upset and I wanted a change of air."
Reviving those moments and hearing her confirm that she decided to leave on her own only helps him crack his self-restraint. And like that, the first traitor tear drops.
Finn promised himself to never cry in front of Millie. But this is one of those promises he can't hold.
"I see." That's all he says about it, trying to suffocate the rage flaming in his heart and all the tears forming beneath his eyelids.
"I ended up in Vancouver after that. I was," He ignores the tears streaming down his face. His throat is clogged with tremors. "I was devastated. Rude with anybody around me. I couldn't eat for weeks. At first, Mom told me it was normal—it was a break up. Who wouldn't suffer? We were so young..."
"You need to eat, Finn." Mary slides a bowl of milk and cereals on his nightstand. "Come on, honey, you can't go on like this. Just a spoonful or two."
Finn looks at the bowl as if it is one of the worst insults ever made to him.
No matter how much food looks appealing, he refuses to swallow it. There is no sense for such things as eating. And even if he tries to do it, his stomach rejects it and throws it up. Everything does.
Food rejects him just like Millie did.
"Millie..." He closes his eyes, abiding another pointless cry.
His own body sabotages him to not let him feel good. His mind is spiraling out of control. His brain and heart are full of her, stuck on every piece of him, sculpted in his flesh and bones. But no matter how he would love to let himself die, Millie is gone, and with her, all of her good words and an adolescence spent side by side.
He slams the dish off the nightstand with a snap of hand, the loud crash making Mary steps back. He turns around and hiding under the blankets of his dark room.
"Go away."
"The days passed by and the pain didn't go away, Millie. It got worse. I tried to delete you from life..." Another tear drop hit his knee. "I tried all that I could..."
Blocking her everywhere, the thought of seeing her face aching him. He deleted her number, removed her from any social media that could show any glimpse of her presence.
But you can't ignore a star when she shines so bright.
And it's the day he saw her on a billboard while taking a walk (the first, after weeks of self-reclusion) downtown Vancouver, that her face was more glowing than a starry night. So his heart cracked up once again, this time in a new feeling that went beyond rejection or ended love.
"Whore."
It was spiteful. It was hatred. It was pure, unashamed feeling of revenge, the one taking over his heart. The very roots of a new Finn that the world would have hated.
"Nothing worked to let you go. I hated you, but I still couldn't ignore the thought of you. So one night, I did this to myself. Sometimes you don't see any other solution. You feel so much pain that you have to channel it somewhere else."
The drops of blood drench his hand, the little blade sticks between his fingers lethal but his only means to feel normal again. For an eternal bliss of a moment, he could forget about her. Just like that.
He ended up in hospital the same day, both for his dehydration, starvation and for those superficial wounds.
Mary never forgot that moment.
Seeing his t-shirt with scarlet stains and the face of his son pale and lifeless as he murmurs a soft yet so needed: "What's wrong with me?"
And suddenly all of this makes sense to Millie at last.
The fact that Finn wanted her to eat and always made sure she was well fed, as if that was a matter of life or death.
Or Josh's words and the fact that he blamed her to have almost killed him. Everything comes together, like composing a picture with the tiny ripped pieces of it. But the outcome is dreadful, it's a truth she wasn't prepared for.
Millie passes a hand over her mouth. She would scream, cry the Hell out of her, but she can't do any of that. Not when Finn is exposing himself and showing him all that he has kept inside for all of this time just to protect her.
He didn't tell her because he knew he would have worried her.
"I am so sorry, Millie, for having lied to you about this." He concludes, his tears stopping only when he is sure that his tell is over and that he won't talk about this ever again.
Millie immediately gets up the mattress, the sickness of her stomach making her almost throwing up. She passes a hand over her belly as she staggers backwards. "It's all of my fault."
He gets up, too, walking at her in a rush.
"Millie, no."
"It is all of my fault!" She remarks louder and sharp, refusing to look at him.
"It's not your fault. It's not even mine—"
"—Are you hearing yourself? I—I did t-this to you!" She points at his wounded collarbone. That splendid, immaculate collarbone that will always look like that because of her and her stupid actions.
"You didn't. I was young, and I was going through a hard time. I was so—so dependent on you, it wasn't even healthy. But now I'm not obsessed with you... I am simply..." He opens his mouth but Millie stops him right away.
"Don't you fucking dare say that! You can't love someone who pushed you doing such a horrible thing to yourself. Starving. Abusing your own body. Oh my God."
Millie passes her hands over her face, suppressing her loud cry. "I am a monster."
"You are not. Stop guilt tripping yourself. You had no control over it. You didn't. Look at me," He holds her hands and wipes them off her face. "You didn't. It's not your fault. It's not important anymore."
"Of c-course it is. Everything concerning you is important to me! You matter to me, Finn! I need you, and I've just learned you went through all of that without me and because of me."
She cries as he holds her hands, a glimpse of a tender smile as he hears her saying that. That he is important to her and he matters. Probably, the only thing that truly mattered...
That he was loved by a girl like Millie.
"You were—you were and are so important and I treated you like that... I've never realized that the consequences of my words or uncertainty would have brought you to this. Finn, I am sorry. I am so sorry." She goes on and on, the tears giving a new light to her eyes.
"It's in the past."
"I-is it? What—what if I lead you to do this again? You are afraid I can do this to you again, and now I see why."
"You won't. And I won't do that ever again." He kisses both of her hands. "We are better than three years ago. We grew up."
She sniffles. "Finn, I am not better than before. I am still a mess. You d-don't have any idea."
"You're not a mess. You are one in a million. You are the only person, Millie." His body commends him to close the space between them. "The only person that can make me feel everything. Rage. Sadness. Pain. Misery. But also...."
He intertwines his fingers with hers, and if he could, he would chain her to his heart. "Happiness. Sweetness. Affection. Lust. Love."
Millie's tears stop when she catches the meaning of his words.
"You are my everything, you are my nothing. I should hate you for what you did to me, for all the scars you left me. But I won't do it because..."
Finn brushes his forehead against her, lowering his voice enough for her to ear. He tells her the only secret he couldn't keep. "I feel like you're part of me. And as an old song says... You will be part of me until all the stars fall from the sky."
Her heart sinks, hammering inside of her. There is something about his words that feels like Heaven, comforting and beautiful reassurance for her heart alone.
Millie realizes that she couldn't be the only one feeling it; it was time for her to give him that same peace of mind, too. This relationship has been uneven for too long, and she wants to be part of it.
"Come with me."
Millie holds his hands and pulls him with her, making her way out of the room and leading to the bathroom, the stream shower still going on. The whole room is a blur of steam but she manages to slide the shower box open.
"What are we doing?" He asks, visually confused.
She removes her shoes and the hoodie, staying in her bra and underwear. "Our thing."
She takes a careful step into the shower box, stretching an arm to him. At first, Finn doesn't get it. Then he realizes that late night baths and showers are indeed their thing.
Hiding themselves in a place nobody wouldn't judge them, where their tears would mix with the water; a safe spot where they could let out all the demons they had inside. But the only difference is that...
This time they are not alone anymore. They have each other.
He holds her hand and steps in with her, the both of them finding comfort in the heat of the water pouring on them, wetting their hair and what is left of their body.
Millie is so fast in snuggling herself against him, looking at him with a wide, big smile of hope, so different from all the ones he has seen from her before. It was a smile of mutual understanding.
"Finn..." She starts, their bodies so close she can feel his abdomen brush against her chest.
"I know what it feels like being a burden, desperate and useless. I have... I have experienced things I have never told you and that I will tell you when I feel like the right moment comes."
She places her hands on his collarbone, sliding them down a bit, her fingers leaving traces with the water. "All of the pain and the scars I have left you, that I caused you... They will never go away. But I promise you that I will make sure to turn them into something more beautiful."
Her palms explore his pectorals, hands running wild on the wet skin, the tips playing gently with his smooth skin, pads pressing soft caresses and circles on the two scars. She flutters her eyelashes, the water drops falling from her lashes as she closes her eyes. Her lips land on him, on that patch of skin he tortured because of her.
Her lips pucker, gingerly kissing and tracing the scarred path as he shudders beneath these attentions, all of his pain draining out as he feels unbelievably loved and taken care of, something he hasn't experienced in a while. She butterfly kisses him until he doesn't tell her to stop.
As he feels his body softening, Finn finally lets out a smile of pure awe, slipping his fingers through her hair and gently angling her face so he can see her. They stare at each other, silently speaking a language that belongs to them only.
She hooks her arms around his torso as he does the same around her hips, holding her close to him. He caresses the top of her head, slow, savoring this moment of vulnerability.
"For all of this time, you protected me, making me feel safe..." She whispers at him, the sound of water lulling them into that silent moment of declaration of need.
"It's my turn to take care of you," Millie murmurs again, this time, protected by his embrace, face hidden in his shoulder.
That's all Finn needs to hear.
He drowns in that hug, allowing himself to stay silent and to trust her for the very first time. To give his heart in the hands of the same girl who once destroyed it. To let her treasure it as if it was hers.
To let his Star guide him somewhere once again.
—
Phew it's finally out! I couldn't wait to post this!! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Finally they are openly talking about their traumas and accepting them. It's what they both need!! 🥲
Leave me any feedback? Did you like it? I am pretty proud of this one ngl 🥰
Don't think the story is over. You guys aren't ready for the twist and the shit going down anyway lol let's enjoy the love and comfort for a while before... welp 📉📉 I won't spare anyone 🤸🏻♀️🕳
See ya!
Love u 💜
Grace