"...You don't have to always worry about me, y'know?"
Steve stops fiddling with the edge of Eddie's sleeveless top, hand moving to card through wavy hair instead, "I know, I just... I'm not letting you slip through my fingers. Not again."
The easy smile on Eddie's face probably couldn't get any softer, but somehow it does, "You never did. Over and over and over. You never gave up on me."
Steve hums in acknowledgment, eyes distant, "Would it sound cheesy if I said I never will?"
Eddie snorts, leaning in to hide it in the crook of Steve's neck, "Absolutely."
The shoulder under Eddie's cheek starts shaking with laughter as Steve finally eases into the cushions, arranging their bodies a little to get more comfortable, "No, I'm serious, Eds, you gotta take me seriously."
"It still sounds cheesy."
"You know what?" Steve slides a hand under Eddie's shirt, fingertips running along pink, raised skin, skimming the path of a shared history only the two of them know the whole truth of, "I'll dig up your notebook and next time we're having a bonfire night, I'm throwing it in the flames."
Eddie gasps, hand pressed tight to his own chest in dramatics, "You butcher! You wouldn't dare slaughter my eldest daughter, would you?"
Steve shrugs – as much as it is possible with at least half of Eddie's weight on top of him – cocking his head to the side, completely innocent.
"Steve Harrington," Eddie coos, grinning from ear to ear, "Just because you're cheesy as fuck, you don't have to commit a murder spree on my journal."
"Oh, yeah?" Steve challenges, "And how come half of said journal is full of corny lyrics, stuff you wrote, mind you–"
"That's different." Eddie butts in to no avail.
"–Stuff you spent many sleepless nights on, oh, and by the way, you still refuse to show me." Steve finishes, using his fingers to count and keep track of his apparent list.
"Baby, I hate to tell you this, but you're overreacting," Tapping Steve's jaw twice, Eddie finally manages to capture the attention he long craved. Hazel settles on chocolate brown, and suddenly the world stops and continues to spin simultaneously, "You can burn that thing all you want, but the stuff that's in there is engraved in here," Eddie points to his temple, "and here." Then, the same finger moves to prod at his chest where his heart beats, alive and in rhythm, thanks to Steve's quick thinking.
Steve stares at him for a hot second, gaze intent and fiery in ways not even the sun could resemble, and it's getting way too difficult for Eddie not to get lost in the warm hues.
Eddie watches a smile form on soft, rose colored lips, morphing Steve's face until it reaches his eyes. Eddie's own smile gets permanently attached to him at the sight.
"I'm surprised you didn't gag." Steve comments, impressed.
Eddie swats at him, throwing his head back as laughter makes him shake to his core, "You're full of shit."
"And you're a romantic in denial!"
"Sweetheart," Eddie starts, tone dropping, "I never said I wasn't going to love the hell out of you. Gotta fish for opportunities, though."
Steve rolls his eyes, but the gentle smile he wears evolves into a wider one, pulling at Eddie's heart strings.
Comfortable silence settles in, coating them in what Eddie only registers as a homey, orange glow of warmth. Steve's fingers still trace patterns into Eddie's scar, the one that matches the one on Steve's side. He listens to Steve breathing, steady and calm.
The quiet, tranquil moment is so nice Eddie finds himself almost nodding off.
"I know where you keep it." Steve murmurs, stirring the stillness.
Stirring Eddie's heart, as usual, although this time Eddie might be a little more worried.
When Steve doesn't continue, Eddie tilts his head in the perfect angle to see the smug look Steve sports. Determined, sure, serious.
It isn't even an exaggeration when Eddie yells in panic, "Steve!"
