“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THAT,” She remarks, studying the bruises blooming on his cheek, “I could have handled it myself.” She sits beside him on the bench with a soft smile, “Though... I appreciate you stepping in. No one’s ever been willing to take a punch for me.” She’s facing him now and can’t help but stare at the black eye he was currently sporting. She brings her fingers up, gently running over the discolored skin, drawing back slightly when he flinches. “Sorry,” She giggles softly, noticing how close they are now, “Um... Can you even see out of that?”
SHE COULDN’T LIE, being this close to Steve Harrington, of all people, certainly wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever experienced. She finds herself moving ever so closer to his form, taking in the warmth radiating off of him, “I should probably thank you, right?” Her lips curl up in a smile, their faces now barely an inch apart. Her gaze meets his, searching for any indication that this might not be okay, “Steve?” The words are whispered, “Would it be okay if-” Her sentence is cut off by the sound of someone else calling his name. She quickly pulls away, hands set in her lap now, gaze adverted anywhere else.