Chapter Text
The stereo hummed from the corner of the living room, the vinyl crackling softly beneath the music. Lucas had put it on without saying anything, pretending he just wanted some background noise while he cleaned up after dinner.
But he hadn’t turned it off.
Max was curled up on the couch, one leg dangling over the edge, a book resting in her lap. She wore one of his old Hawkins High basketball shirts paired with gray pants. She liked stealing his things, claiming that they were "better."
He dried his hands slowly on a dish towel, watching her from the kitchen doorway.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned the page.
God, he loved her.
Before he could think too hard about it, he crossed the room and held out his hand.
“Can I have this dance?”
Max looked up immediately, already smiling before he finished the question.
“Right now?”
“Yeah.”
She marked her page, set the book on the coffee table, and slipped her hand into his without hesitation.
“Okay.”
He pulled her to her feet. She stumbled a little, exaggerating just enough to make him roll his eyes.
“Easy,” she muttered, grabbing his shoulders. “I get hurt easily.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“I’ve known you since we were kids.”
“You're not proving anything.”
He smiled, sliding his hand to her waist. “Trust me.”
She rested her free hand against his shoulder, and they began to sway.
“What’s this about?” she asked after a moment. “You don’t dance.”
“Maybe I’m full of surprises.”
“You would consider dancing a surprise?”
He huffed. “Wow, I'm trying to be romantic here.”
She leaned in closer, her chin brushing his collarbone. “I’m just saying. You’re more of a ‘teasing my girlfriend’ kind of romantic.”
“I don't tease you that much.”
“You absolutely do.”
“You love it, though.”
She made a quiet sound of disagreement, but didn’t push it further. Instead, she settled into him.
They moved slowly across the living room, careful not to bump into the coffee table or the bookshelf that leaned slightly to the left. Something they’d never gotten around to fixing.
Her bare feet brushed against his.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
He guided her into a spin. She came back to him laughing, holding his arm for balance.
“You’re showing off.”
“In my own living room?”
“With me? Yes.”
The freckles across her nose, the faint scar near her hairline, and the way her lashes lowered when she smiled. Lucas loved everything about her.
He’d seen her break and rebuild herself. He’d seen her sit in silence for hours and fight through things she never put into words.
He’d almost lost her.
More than once.
And now she was here, in his arms, complaining about imaginary bruises.
“You’re staring again,” she said quietly.
He didn’t deny it this time.
She moved her head back slightly. “What?”
He hesitated.
How do you explain that this ordinary Tuesday night with the woman you loved more than anything felt sacred?
“I just—” He exhaled slowly. “I like this.”
She glanced around. “Are you teasing me?”
“I don't tease you; I make you laugh.”
“You do tease me and, unfortunately, make me laugh.”
“I mean this,” he said, tightening his hold a little. “Us, and the way we are right now.”
“It’s easy,” he continued.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Easy?”
“Yeah. No chaos, no running, and no fighting for our lives. It's just us arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes and what movie to watch.”
She watched him.
“That scares you?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “It used to. I thought if things were calm, something bad was coming.”
She didn’t respond immediately, letting her hand slide slightly up his shoulder, fingers curling into his shirt.
“But now?” she asked.
He swallowed.
“Now I think I just want more of it.”
Her expression softened.
“More dancing in the living room?”
“Yeah.”
“More burnt pancakes?”
“You made those.”
“You ate them.”
“I was being supportive.”
She smiled.
“And more teasing,” she added.
He laughed. “Definitely.”
“I used to think,” he said slowly, “that loving you meant we would have to overcome so many challenges.”
She smiled. “We did go through a lot."
“Yeah, I don't want us to deal with that again.”
“I agree.”
He smiled, relieved.
“But this?” he continued. “This feels better.”
“Do you remember prom?” he asked.
She snorted softly. “You almost tripped while walking toward me with flowers in hand.”
“I was really excited to see you.”
“I know,” she said, smiling.
“You looked very handsome in that suit,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“Thank you.”
“When we were kids,” he said, “I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Her fingers tightened slightly against his chest.
“I still don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to,” she reassured him.
He nodded, but the memory of her in the hospital room lingered in his mind.
“I just want…” He trailed off.
“What?” she whispered.
“I want to tease you every day,” he said. “I want more silly arguments about music. I want to be old and still doing this.”
Her lips parted slightly.
“Doing what?”
He shifted his hand at her waist.
“This. Dancing in the living room for no reason.”
“Lucas,” she said, “you’re being weirdly sentimental.” She stepped closer until there was no space between them at all.
“I don’t want it to stop either,” she admitted.
“Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.” She rested her forehead against his. “I like this version of us.”
“Which version?”
“The one that survived everything and still decided to be stupid together.”
He laughed under his breath.
“That’s fair.”
Lucas let himself imagine, just for a second, what life would look like. They would have a bigger house, maybe get a dog, and have a child. Her skateboard collection is taking up space in their house. Their friends are coming to their house for dinner.
Max pulled back, looking at him.
“You’re smiling,” she said.
“Am I?”
“Yeah.”
He brushed his thumb lightly along her cheek.
"I was thinking of you.”
She laughed and kissed his cheek.
He leaned down and kissed her.
When he pulled away, she was smiling.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too,” he replied.
They stood there even after the song ended, the stereo crackling faintly in the quiet.
Max rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“You’re thinking again,” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
“Good thoughts?”
“The best kind.”
She hummed, satisfied, and wrapped her arms tighter around him.
Lucas closed his eyes.