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bakerstreet2016-08-14 10:12 pm
kinikilig) wrote in bakerstreet2016-08-14 10:12 pm
Stuffed with Fluff
R U L E S:
1. Post your character with their name and series in the subject line.
2. Others respond using RNG. Roll 1 - 15 to pick a scenario.
3. Some scenarios have options (A - C). Pick any one from them or roll 1 - 3.
4. If there is no option that fits for you, then feel free to make one up!
5. And there you go, instant fluff~
Scenarios:
1. A little help, please?
A) Lost - You got lost somewhere, like a school or office building or even an unfamiliar city street, and it doesn't look like you can figure out the way back by yourself.
B) Bike/Car Trouble - Your mode of transportation has a flat tire and your cellphone battery is dead while you're in a middle of nowhere.
C) You Shrimp! - You’re just a short fry who can’t even reach the top shelf for an item. Or even if you’re tall enough, you STILL can’t reach it without a second hand. Like maybe, a ball that got stuck on a basketball’s ring.
2. Babysitting/Pet sitting
Your neighbor is going out of town for a few days. They ask you to take care of the pet (or the baby) for the time being. But you don't have to worry! Your neighbor hired someone to help you. You can only hope that person is reliable...
3. Playful Fight - The two of you are having such a nice time together, doing whatever it is you’re up to. Suddenly, one of you just can’t help but start teasing a little. Like maybe pick up the nearest object available and throw it to the other person's face.
A) Food Fight - Didn’t your mom always told you not to play with food?
B) Water Gun/Water Balloon Fight - Well, that’s one way to cool down.
C) Pillow Fight - Grab a pillow or two. It’s game time.
D) Tickle Fight - Who cares about objects! Your true weapon is your god hand!!
4. Hand to Hold - Something terrible just happened. It’s terrible enough to make you cry or flip a table. You don’t want to be alone right now with these feelings.
A) Shoulder to cry on - You’re not done crying and it just hurts to cry on your own hands.
B) Woke up from a bad dream - Did you get rickrolled in your sleep? Did you hear the trololo man’s song within your dreams? Sit up and tell that person to hold you right now!
C) Just had a bad day - Everybody’s against you today. Flop down that couch and start sulking.
5. Stuck/Stranded
A) Stuck in an elevator - You had places to go! People to see! But that can’t happen due a technical difficulty while you were riding the elevator. Fortunatelyor unfortunatelyyou’re not alone.
B) Stuck due to rain - Just your luck, you forgot your umbrella. Do you wait it out or try to make a run for it?
C) Deserted Island - Due to a miracle, you survived the boat crash and even drifted ashore! Yay! Except... where the hell are you now? And, oh god, is that a dead body next to you?Wait, it moved!
6. Sick/Injury
A) Stuck at Home - It’s your fault that you stayed out the rain too long. Or maybe you just overworked yourself too much. Be careful!
B) Infirmary - Looks like you got into a minor accident. Guess it was a good thing that someone was there to help you to the clinic.
C) Hospital - Still waiting on the results for that last medical exam? Maybe you're EXPECTING A BABY. Whatever it is, at least you've got some company to keep your occupied.
7. Confession
A) In Person - Nothing is more sincere than a direct confession!
B) Love Letter - You’re so traditional. Are you going to put heart stickers, too?
C) Phone call/Text/Email/IMs - Ahh, the wonders of technology. You can even say how you feel through emoticons. :D <3
8. Date
A) Dinner - Whether it’s in restaurant or take-out at home, enjoy a meal with that special someone.
B) Movie - Cozy up on the couch watching a DVD or head to the mall to watch latest blockbuster.
C) Picnic - Grab a basket, grab some food, and pray to god that whoever prepared it knows how to cook. Watch out for ants.
9. New Kid On The Block
You’re new to the neighborhood. Maybe you’re a new student or a newly hired worker. Maybe you even just literally moved in. Either way, you miss your old home and your friends. You’re so lonely. Aww. Don’t worry, maybe fate will be kind to you and reward you with a new friend very soon.
10. A little extra help with work or school
A) Study partner - The exams are coming up! You thought of calling up someone to study with, hoping that it will increase your focus and all those other benefits.
B) Homework pain - You have an extremely difficult homework. You’re at the point where you want to throw it out the window.
C) Overtime at work - It’s shit-o-clock. You’ll never finish these on time. You might as well pull off an overnight at the office, unless a kind soul decides to assist you with work.
11. Hanging Out
A) Shopping - Maybe yourvictimdate doesn't mind shopping with you. Maybe they did. Well, they're here now and they're not getting away from you that easily!
B) At a coffee shop - Maybe it's your first date and the two of you are testing the waters, maybe you bumped into each other. Whatever the reason was, there's nothing like two people just talking over a cup of coffee.
C) At a playground - Nothing wrong with reliving your childhood here. Last one to the swings is a rotten egg!
12. Somebody Save Me!
A) Drowning - Wow, you didn’t even bother checking if your life ring had enough air in it?
B) FIRE! - Good job. You burnt your kitchen and now there’s a forest fire in there.
C) Defending your honor - How dare you forget your rape whistle at home! Maybe screaming will send someone to your aid! KYAAA~
13. Couldn't Make It To Bed
A) Drunk passed out - Looks like you had too much to drink. Think you can still make it to bed by yourself?
B) Slept on the Couch - You’re ridiculously tired and that short nap on the couch became longer than you planned.
C) Fell asleep in the car - Not exactly the ideal place to fall asleep in (carbon monoxide poisoning and all). Luckily, someone’s coming to your rescue.
14. Outdoorsy stuff
A) Stargazing - Maybe you two just enjoy the sight of the sea of stars. Maybe either of you believe in the legend of the wishing star. Either way, the evening sky is shining down for the two of you.
B) Camping - Screw the city! Nature is truly the best! Grab your partneror be dragged off by themand explore to your heart’s content. Watch out for snakes or bears.
C) Field Trip - It’s a class field trip or a work’s group outing! What will you do? Explore every nook of the location you’re in? Stay in your room and play board games? Sneak out each other’s rooms to meet up tonight?
15. Wild card - Roll again, pick anything you’d like, or create your own scene.
no subject
she's sorry to see his embarrassment and shame. she doesn't want to be, well, another person to make him feel uncomfortable or small. he seems to recuperate quickly though, realizing that her words aren't meant to hurt. that's the last thing she wants. she nods approvingly at his promise, then tucks back a wet strand of hair that comes loose and sweeps across her cheek. ] Okay.
[ she glances at will's door when they come close, her stomach doing an unfortunate flip. the sound of the boy's game of pretend—a noise that might have exasperated her under different circumstances—helps to smooth over her nerves, and she focuses on the knowledge that will is there, right behind that door, and he's safe. they're all safe.
almost.
she glances sidelong at jonathan when he puts on that voice, amused in a way that doesn't call attention to itself. ] I won't judge.
[ of course she notices how very not messy the room is as she follows him in, which might have surprised her before. her usual expectation of teenage boys is disorganization and jovial disinterest in a lot of things that she herself cares about strongly, but jonathan is a different sort. more sensitive, she guesses, and it shows in his space. everything is in it's rightful place and nothing leaps out at her begging for attention. the colors are subtle, and yet the posters and art hint at character, interests of jonathan's that don't necessarily exude from him. she hovers just inside the door, taking in her surroundings. ]
You like music. [ definitely not a question. it's clear as day. she moves to the bed, peering over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the tapes before they disappear into the box. she smiles to herself without really noticing, just as she fails to notice how she's rubbing at her arms in an attempt to warm up. ] Could you play me something?
no subject
With Nancy, it's strangely okay, though.
He laughs when she makes the observation, and glances up at her as she comes over to the bed. There it is, another piece of him that nobody really knows about outside of his family, in possession of one Nancy Wheeler. He's always kept his music close and personal, and it's always been such a huge part of his life. He'd saved up for so long for the stereo system, and he's made so many mixtapes in his life that he's beginning to lose count. ]
Play you something and show you my photos. [ Here he looks incredibly amused, a grin on his face as he puts the last cassette back in order and turns to her. ] You know, some places make you pay an admission fee for just as much.
[ He's teasing her, just a little. He doesn't mind playing something for her at all, made clear by the way he glances at the records all stacked up. His mind has already gotten started on the task of figuring out what to play for her. ]
no subject
Am I really asking that much? [ she manages to feign offense for a second or two, then grins like she's just had an amazing idea. ] I might have a dollar or two in my pocket... [ here she pats down her obviously pocket-less skirt, then looks at him again, lips pursed like she's deeply disappointed she can't pay up. hopefully he won't retract his offer. ]
[ nancy's cautiously pleased by how easy this back and forth seems, not wanting to get her hopes up when they've only just fallen into something less awkward. she'd like it to last, though.
of course she sees him look over at the records on the other side of the room, and watches the slight change in his expression as he appears to think about what song or artist might be best. he probably has his entire musical collection store somewhere in his head. ]
Do you have a favorite?
no subject
He shakes his head at her, his best attempt at looking disapproving (honestly, not even a dollar or two!), before going on to answer her question. ]
That's like asking a mother if she has a favorite child.
[ So, for him, no. It's too hard for him to choose between all his favorites, and he loves each song in a different way; some songs for their rhythms, some for their lyrics, others for the worlds they open up to him through instrumentals alone. He'd given Will a mixtape with The Clash, Television, Bowie and The Smiths on it right before Will had disappeared, and he supposes those are the artists that are most on his mind now. The Clash he deliberated on briefly, but he didn't think Nancy would like them so much. They could be abrasive and loud if you didn't like them, and their hooks in some songs were moreso phrases over a beat than singing.
After a few more seconds, Jonathan realises that he already has a song picked out for Nancy - had already mentally picked it out as soon as she had asked the question, and had only run through a few more songs in his head for the sake of thoroughness.
He moves over to the stack, pulling out a record and putting it onto the player after he's turned everything on. The sleeve he pops on top of the stack. ]
Ready?
[ He's a little nervous about this, actually - sharing songs is deeply personal to him (is probably personal to everyone, really, he thinks). It's not the end of the world if Nancy doesn't like it, of course, but irrationally, it's important to him that she doesn't mind it, at least. Most importantly, though, he hopes she doesn't pretend to like it out of politeness, and so, after thinking it over again (he's thinking about this far too much), he realises he won't mind at all if she tells him it's not her jam.
He lets it play. He's put on The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out. It's melodic, mellow - it starts slow.
And the lyrics remind him of her. Parts of it, anyway.
Jonathan finds himself holding his breath a little, and so he forces himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds before turning to study Nancy as the music fills the room. ]
no subject
Oh. [ she smiles, feeling this little bit flustered. ] I didn't mean to put you under that kind of pressure.
[ she watches his back as he riffles through the stacks for his choice and then sets it on the player. ] Ready. [ she echoes, waiting as he seems to hesitate a moment before letting the song play.
nancy's relationship to music isn't a complicated one. in all honesty, music that's on trend is what she hears the most of. she has her favorite songs and she has some records herself—mostly gifts from her friends or her parents—but she has nothing close to the collection jonathan has, and she can tell her more simple passion is unlike jonathan's. all of that makes this—having jonathan share something important to him with her—feel special. she wants to take it in, to be able to offer a review that's genuine.
jonathan doesn't turn right away, and so she closes her eyes, like a character in a film might when listening to a good song. she can't offer any solid critiques of the melody or the rhythm (she doesn't know enough for that) but she decides quite quickly that she likes it. it's almost soothing.
she crosses her arms across her stomach, an unconscious movement. jonathan's sweater still hangs from one forearm, and her other hand runs over the fabric, feeling the softness.
she keeps listening, making out the words as they're sung. ]
no subject
Jonathan feels like his stomach is in his chest as the song unfolds, and it's a strange, foreign feeling. He'd had it that night, in Nancy's room, but he'd chalked it up to adrenaline after... well, everything, as well as the fear of being caught by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler. It's only now that he begins to entertain the notion that the feeling might be attributable to Nancy herself - might be due to him actually caring what somebody else thinks. He's not sure if he's okay with that. It's... kind of vulnerable. He's accustomed to not really minding what others think of him (has to be, to get through the school day sometimes), and so this is...
Jonathan disconnects himself from his thoughts, tries to really be in the moment, instead, his eyes focused on Nancy as he leans back against the cabinet, palms resting. Her eyes have fallen closed, and so he lets himself watch her, the earlier grin giving way to a softer, more contemplative look. He likes that Nancy has her eyes closed to listen to the song - it's a good way of appreciating music. He also likes that she's giving the song a chance, and just that is enough to make Jonathan feel like sharing this was worth it.
The song is four minutes and four seconds long, and Jonathan is aware of every minute, every second of it. The words are sung, and some of them make him feel self-conscious, as if he's baring a little bit of his soul to her. There's a lot of meaning in the choice, after all, that really, a part of him hopes that Nancy chalks up his enjoyment of the song to simply the tune alone. It's catchy.
Shortly before the song ends, Jonathan busies himself with picking up the record sleeve, just so he has something to hold in his hands and look at when Nancy opens her eyes. He wants to be careful to not be caught watching her, although if she opens her eyes early, that will certainly be the case. ]
no subject
there's an interesting contrast between the music and the words. the song is catchy, a fun and moving sound that she and barb would have found no difficulty dancing to in one of their bedrooms. the words, though... they're melancholy in this romantic way, a way that surprises her. she has to wonder why jonathan has chosen this song for her, and she just as easily gets lost in that line of thinking. with her eyes closed, she pictures that night in her bedroom. she'd been so shaken, barely able to comprehend what had happened in the woods, but she remembers distinctly that way he'd wrapped that blanket around her shoulders, hand resting a moment too long against her back. he'd been so careful. jonathan is always careful.
she hadn't been able to sleep even with the lights on, and so she'd busied herself with books and theories, distracting herself from the fear by targeting the cause of the fear itself. she'd snuck looks at jonathan, though, taking in the unguarded expression on his face as he'd slept. the fact of him being there was absolutely insane and yet just then it had been vital. she'd needed him and there he was.
there is a light and it never goes out...
the words fading out somehow remind her that she's standing in jonathan's room, not dreaming, and her eyes flicker open before the music starts to softly die out. unfortunately for jonathan, she sees his eyes on her face before he lets them drop, and she can't help the slight flush at the realization that he'd been watching her. god, what had she looked like? what was he thinking as he looked at her? she pulls in a long breath, fingers curling around the sweater in her arms. there's a moment of uncertainty before she finds her smile, this one delicate and self-conscious. ]
It's sad. [ nancy says first, because it's her first thought, her first feeling. then: ] Sad, but... pretty. I liked it. [ her smile falters a little, giving way to an expression of concentration, brow furrowed. she really liked it, and while she may not know what exactly it means to jonathan, she thinks she knows what it means to her.
it's always going to make her think of him, now. ]
no subject
Now, though, Jonathan's cheeks feel hot with embarrassment at having been caught looking, and his eyes fixate on the record sleeve, though they're not really seeing the words that are printed. What he's remembering is the look of realization on Nancy's face. He's so self-conscious that for a second, he forgets that he had wanted to know what Nancy had thought of the song, and only remembers when she begins offering her thoughts on the track. ]
Did you really? [ It's not the same tone he had used with Will when he had tried to figure out whether his little brother had genuinely liked The Clash or not. That tone had been insistent - slightly interrogative. The tone he uses with Nancy is more gentle, more curious - he's pretty certain that Nancy wouldn't flat-out lie to him about something like this just to get his approval, because Nancy does and says what she wants, regardless of what he thinks. That much has been made abundantly clear.
He dares himself to meet Nancy's gaze again, the burning in his cheeks fading, and seeing her expression, he realises that Nancy is more genuine about this than he had first thought. It's like in the dark room all over again - Nancy's genuine interest makes him want to share why he likes what he does. It makes him want to tell her his thoughts and his beliefs, even if they may sound insufferably philosophical. ]
It's kind of weird, I know. Sad but pretty isn't really something people usually look for in a song, but... I like the way music can make you connect with a feeling like that - with all sorts of feelings that you might have never known you'd had.
sorry for the delay!
she has to rein in her heart now, setting her thoughts back on the correct path: the song. jonathan's question is delicate, like maybe he hadn't expected her particular answer. she'd offered it in honesty though, not as some kind of consolation or false reassurance. it had given her a few moments of peace, and even if her mind had strayed, it wasn't into darker places. she'd like a copy of the song herself, really. ] Yeah. I mean it. [ there's no harshness in her voice but there is a hint of tenacity. no, nancy isn't lying to him and he needs to understand that. if her tone doesn't convey that, her gaze should.
nancy watches him carefully as he explains his thinking, shifting a little, letting her thighs lean against the edge of the bed. she knows that jonathan spends a lot of time in his own head, working through ideas and feelings by himself rather than speaking them aloud. she also knows with some certainty that he gets things wrong sometimes, but other times—like now—all that thinking pays off. ]
It's not weird. [ it's a quiet comment, and by that she means it's not a bad weird. the song is almost morbid in it's content and yet the emotion is shockingly real, relatable, and like jonathan says, it hadn't introduced nancy to a new feeling but revealed to her a feeling she already held but hadn't named. all of it seems so close to home.
she could admit that to him, but there's this prickle of uncertainty that starts in the back of her throat at the idea, and so she doesn't. she's tempted to share with him just as he has with her, but she has this fear of not explaining it properly, of not conveying whatever the hell she'd felt in the right way. she doesn't know why that's so terrifying. ]
Does that song make you connect with feelings you didn't know you had?
[ is that a dangerous question? maybe. nancy looks down at his sweater, using it as a distraction just as he had with the record sleeve. ]
no worries at all!!
This would be so easy if the waters between them didn't feel so muddied. ]
I... [ He finds himself stopping in his tracks. The thing is, Jonathan likes Nancy. He probably even likes-likes her, but that's a possibility that Jonathan doesn't allow himself to entertain. Just because she's shown an interest in him and treats him well doesn't mean he should suddenly develop feelings for her - it just means that she's better than the vast majority of the population out there, that's all. Besides, there's Steve, and as much as Jonathan dislikes Steve - had instinctively disliked him, right off the bat, thanks to his idiot friends, and still dislikes him - he's also gained a bit of grudging respect for him after the events of that night. Steve had dumped his two sidekicks (a fact made obvious after Jonathan first realised that he saw the other two kicking around with another crowd at school now), and then he'd really - truthfully, genuinely - come through for Nancy.
Jonathan stumbles over his words a little. He doesn't want to lie, doesn't think anyone should lie, ever. He's all about people being truthful to themselves, after all, and so if he doesn't hold himself to that, he's just a hypocrite. That doesn't mean he has to dwell on his answer, though. If he glosses over it, plays it off like he's talking about something vague, it's technically not lying. ]
Sometimes you know about a feeling before a song comes along.
[ And God. That's not - that's not glossing over it. That's not even vague. It doesn't sound vague to him, anyway. Jonathan is completely still for a few seconds, and he can feel his heart racing. He's not sure he can take whatever Nancy has to say next if he keeps looking at her, and so he turns to busy himself with putting the record away. ]
c:
when he finally does speak, his answer is... straightforward, to say the least, but not the kind of straightforward steve would use. steve would be all confidence and blunt, unapologetic adoration. jonathan is implicit, offering the truth while curbing the words. thinking about the two of them like that, and how much she cares for each of them... it makes her feel selfish and spoiled for wanting a piece of both of them. ]
I know. [ it's a louded answer. she knows what he means, she knows that he likes her, and she knows that she feels something—something—for him, too. the weeks following the monster's disappearance and will's reappearance had seen her trying and trying to figure out just what that something is, but she hasn't reached a conclusion that she's happy with yet. yes, there's no denying that she'd been prepared to kiss him that night when they'd sat on his couch, her fingers curling into the curve of his, and there's no waving away the other touches and words and glances. but she can't quite untangle her feelings for jonathan from the web of confusion and fear and doubt that had come with discovering barb was gone and seeing the monster and trying to hold her own against every force that tried to knock her down. she can't decide if what she'd felt for him was— was love or gratitude for his companionship when she'd been so low, for fighting alongside her when she had to be strong. she wishes she knew for sure, because if she's wrong and she makes a mistake, she won't ever forgive herself.
in this case, she knows too many feelings.
nancy's caught between being relieved and disappointed when jonathan looks away, because it gives her an excuse to avoid telling him that she is, at the very least, confused about how she feels. she frowns, blinking at his back and watching, almost angry with herself, as his hands move. she's almost overcome by the kind of desperation that had made her ask him to sleep in her bed before, but she keeps that feeling from spilling over, not driven by the fear of a monster this time. instead, she unfolds his sweater from her arm and pulls it on, feeling warm again at the way the sleeves reach her hands and the seams droop over her smaller frame. she tugs her hair loose from the collar and twists it over her shoulder, then turns around and sits on the bed, her back to him, the two of them a pair of backwards parentheses. ]
Could you show me your photos now? [ she says to the floor, her hands open in her lap. her voice is not broken but it's quiet, strained almost. she wants him to sit next to her. maybe closeness will make everything become clear. ]
no subject
What he really wants to ask her is whether this is why she's been avoiding him at school, but that would be unfair, because they both know the answer to that. It's just, he feels he's been pushed into a corner, and maybe he wants to push her into the same corner, because maybe then they can get at least something straight. 'I know' feels like a closed door, but not the closed door he'd be contented with. It's a brick wall, really, offering no way through it.
Hearing the distant laughter of Will and Mike pulls Jonathan out of his reverie, and it's only after a few seconds that he realises Nancy's said something else, the words echoing in his mind after the fact. He belatedly becomes aware that he's been standing before the record player, completely motionless as he tries to work through his feelings. His fingers rest atop the cabinet, gripping it tightly, and his shoulders form a tense line.
Jonathan forces himself to take a deep breath. ]
Yeah. Sure.
[ In the end, he doesn't pursue the topic, leaving it well alone. He leaves it alone despite the night lying next to Nancy, leaves it alone despite the held hands and that single moment where they'd leaned into each other, so close to-
Jonathan rubs at his face with a hand, gathering himself. All he can do is work to at least make things better between them - make it so hanging out and talking is acceptable, because maybe then they'll see each other more, and that'll have to be enough. ]
I can make you a mix tape with that song and a few others - if you want. [ He says it as he moves to his wardrobe, where his box of photos is tucked away. He still hasn't mustered the courage to look at Nancy again, despite being hyper-aware of her presence behind him. ]
no subject
but that wouldn't make things easier.
still, it isn't fair that she'd pushed him to say something and then closed herself off. she knows that, but she can't quite convince herself to take back the i know. it's hanging in the air, heavy and unclear. she can tell that he's unsatisfied with the turn their conversation has taken, and she closes her eyes, breathing slowly and steadily with her back to him, trying to think. her heart, though, is a roaring noise. there's no string of logic she can follow in her head, just a constant thump thump of are you falling in love with jonathan byers? ]
Yeah. That'd be great actually. [ she still isn't looking at him, but her eyes have moved from the floor to the wall at the very least. she swallows. ] All your favorites. If they'll fit on one tape. [ there's the tiniest breath of a laugh in there, something true.
she waits for him to find his photos, urging herself to focus on the sound of the storm or the boys in the other room or— or something. she hates feeling like this, like she's out of control but for all the wrong reasons.
nancy fiddles with the edge of her skirt briefly, checking to see if the fabric has dried any, and then her hand comes to rest next to her on the bed. she smooths her palm over the blanket, wondering if she could fall asleep here. if she wasn't suddenly filled with all this crippling doubt, she probably could. it's late after all, and while sometimes the claps of thunder threaten to startle her, the sound of rain is rhythmic, almost soothing. and then of course there is the warmth of jonathan's room, a warmth that comes not just from the heater or his sweater but from the room itself. she can't describe it, but whatever it is has not disappeared even if something has cooled between them. maybe this place will rekindle things again. maybe she should just let it.
maybe she could lie down in jonathan's bed like he had in hers, and just stop thinking. ]
no subject
There's minimal rummaging as Jonathan pulls out a drawer and locates the box of photographs. It's tucked safely away beside his neatly-folded tees - a plain, black, re-purposed shoebox. He's gentle as he takes the box out, as if the contents of it are fragile despite ultimately being slips of chemically sensitized paper. In a way, though, they kind of are fragile. The photos are mostly recent candid moments of the Byers family - happy moments, sad moments - made delicate in nature thanks to the run-in they've had with the Upside Down. They're precious to Jonathan, because it's so easy to imagine an alternate universe in which Will is lost to them forever - a universe where Jonathan doesn't get to take photos of Will, concentrating on getting a new high-score on an Atari game, or Will, getting scolded by their mom in the kitchen, the two of them unaware of Jonathan snapping a photograph until after the fact.
The knowledge of the contents of the box help to soften the hard edges of frustration that Jonathan feels - they help him find his bearings again (which he always seems to lose around Nancy), help him reorient himself. He hates that there's this canyon between him and Nancy, but it could always be worst, couldn't it? At least like this they have a chance at something, whatever that may be. Calling out Nancy again would only make things worse, and this time there's no pressing situation forcing them back together. It would be foolish; worse than incidental-seeming missed connections at school, Jonathan thinks.
He finally turns to head over to Nancy, box in hand, but he's stopped in his tracks rather suddenly, stunned when he sees Nancy in his sweater.
Oh.
Feelings are complicated, and Jonathan finds himself wishing he hadn't offered the garment to her earlier, because the sight of Nancy in his clothes just serves to convolute everything again. Jonathan likes the way Nancy looks in his sweater. It looks right. ]
It - kind of suits you.
[ He can't help the comment as he comes to sit down beside her, almost over-careful that they don't rub shoulders or otherwise touch as he settles in on the bed. Jonathan holds the box in his lap for a few seconds before offering it out to Nancy, very deliberate in not lingering on the pseudo-compliment he's given, his eyes trained on the box rather than Nancy.
Amongst the numerous photos of Will, there are photos of Joyce, bags under her eyes but happy - truly, genuinely happy - in the box. There are also photos of the wilderness outside their home, of the change in seasons and the animals out and about; photos of the kids, messing about and working on their science fair project. There are, notably, no photos of Jonathan. ]
no subject
she manages to let her head turn and her eyes settle on him while he retrieves the box, the twists of her insides loosening just so. when he turns, she sees the way he practically halts for a moment, taking her in. she realizes after a split second that it's because of the sweater and her lips pucker slightly in embarrassment. she wills herself not to blush again, but she doesn't think it works that way. maybe it's just dark enough to hide any color in her cheeks. she meets his comment with a sheepish expression. ]
You think? [ she drags her eyes from him and looks at her own hands as she lifts them, inspecting as well as showing him how the sleeves hang from her wrists. she snorts a laugh as she puts her hands down again, drawing her arms around herself and pulling the sweater tight around her stomach. ] At least I won't freeze to death.
[ if she's being honest, she's sad to find him carefully put space between them. she understands why he does it, of course, and she appreciates his attempt not to make her feel uncomfortable, but she'd had this idea that something like that would comfort her, or maybe ground her in the here and now rather than in the tangle of thoughts that keeps pulling her away from where she is. she fully embraces this tiny rush of confidence that overtakes her as he hands her the box, and scoots closer to him, passing it off as an attempt to make viewing the photos together easier. now their shoulders do touch, and her knee knocks against his. as soon as the confidence fizzles, she gets nervous that he'll pull away again, not wanting to be this close. she has to squash that fear by diving into the mediator he's offered her.
she collects a few of the pictures in her hand and then starts to shuffle through them, careful to hold each one just by its corners before sliding it into the back of the pile and picking up the next one. the photos in her own home are nothing like jonathan's. they feature her family of course, but they don't depict small moments. her and mike's school pictures sit on the mantelpiece next to one of her parents' wedding and another of holly's latest birthday, but they aren't as personal. jonathan's photos capture real life, real emotion. even those without people in them are full of expression, some happy and some sad. she does notice the severe lack of jonathan. the closest the photos come to capturing him is in little traces, like his jacket hung over the back of a chair in one and a spinning record in another. nancy smiles at one of will and joyce drawing together on a huge sheet of paper spread out on their kitchen floor. she doesn't look away when she says: ] They're good. Really good.
[ she glances at him. ] Did you teach yourself all this?
sorry!! delay on my end this time!
Even though Nancy holds the photos out so that they're visible to the both of them, Jonathan finds himself paying very little mind to the snaps held before him. Half of it is because he's seen them before, having taken them, but the other half of it is that he's more preoccupied with watching Nancy's expressions as she shuffles through and selects each photo for viewing. He likes how thoughtful Nancy looks, he concludes, somewhere after the third photo she views. He also likes how Nancy's expressions change subtly depending on what picture she's looking at, her face becoming a sort of reflection of the emotion the photo in question is conveying. Whenever Jonathan shows Will his photos, he's not quite sure Will gets some of the shots, but here, he's fully confident that Nancy understands each and every one; there's loneliness behind some shots, and plain curiosity behind others. Contentment seems to reside in all the family photos. Longing and bitterness also make a feature, in shots of some of Will's toys and in photos of graffiti along a fence, respectively; these and a whole other array of emotions, laid bare in the photos to anyone really looking, make up all the motivations and thoughts of one Jonathan Byers.
His heart does a funny skip when Nancy smiles at the photo of Will and Joyce, and it's sort of lucky that he looks down at the photo in question when she starts speaking, because when Nancy glances at him, his eyes are thankfully off her face this time. There's a sheepish smile on his features, the side-effect of her compliment. ]
Some of it. [ He looks back up at her. The way they sit like this, Nancy is so close - like when he'd placed the blanket around her shoulders, or when they'd been on the couch together, leaning into each other. Like when she'd helped with his hand, even. ] The basics were all in photography class, but... most of it is just trial and error. The rest is knowing what you want from the photo.
[ Jonathan hesitates, just for half a second, before finding his resolve and reaching out to guide Nancy's viewing hand up into the space between them, making it so like the photo is a tiny scene before them. His fingers rest carefully underneath her wrist, holding her hand steady where it is. His heart is racing underneath it all. ]
Like if you look at this... Someone else might have taken the photo so that you can see what's on the paper, meaning that the photo would be here. [ He guides their hands so that the photograph's location is lowered, angled. ] But like this, you miss all the details that are more important. [ Like the adoring look on Joyce's face that only a mother could have, or Will's look of concentration in sketching in some particular detail. ] It just - you'd be looking at hair.
no problem!!!
while nancy's relationship with jonathan's hobby had begun on a very uncomfortable note, the photos she holds now do nothing to churn up discomfort or uncertainty. yes, some of them express melancholy or loneliness—an empty bench she recognizes from school, dishes left in the sink—but each one, no matter the feeling, reflects honesty. there are some shots that she puzzles over, wondering what jonathan's headspace had been when he'd taken them, but they all seem to speak, even if the words are unclear.
the almost embarrassed smile he wears when she looks at him is endearing. it lets her know that maybe he's not totally accustomed to getting compliments for his work, but also that he appreciates the comment. she doesn't know if this photo holds special significance for him, but she's just happy to see will and joyce looking glad and normal together. maybe every photo with will in it has ten times the meaning now.
she doesn't quite understand what he means by knowing what you want from the photo, and so she doesn't fight him when he delicately takes her wrist and guides it up. she probably wouldn't have fought him even if she did understand. the contact is not unwelcome, though her heart would like to make her think that this is more than just a simple touch. she hopes he can't feel her pulse fluttering under his fingers. she focuses her attention on his explanation because she does want to understand even just a small part of his process. she knows very little about photography, but it hasn't taken her long at all to see it's art, and that jonathan has put a lot of himself into this. ]
Huh. [ her expression flickers into one of surprised understanding as he moves their hands. she hadn't wondered about what will and joyce might have been drawing at the time of the photo until jonathan mentions it, which proves his point for him. when nancy had looked at the picture, she'd seen only mother and son, joy etched into every detail the camera had captured. she looks at jonathan, a self-deprecating smile on her face. ] I definitely don't have the instinct for this. My photo would be... [ she glances back at the one in her hand. ] —all hair. For sure.
[ she's never really done much with a camera, and so she knows she doesn't have the eye for intricacies that jonathan obviously has. she'd need practice and tips and a good teacher. all of which she can probably find in this room.
she shifts towards him slightly, her wrist still held in his hand. ] Can you show me how you do it? [ she doesn't think his new camera can be far. ]
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Nancy shifts towards him a little, and Jonathan mirrors the action (out of politeness, a part of him thinks, because it would be rude not to turn to face her and reciprocate). Now their knees still touch, though their shoulders don't quite anymore. Jonathan keeps Nancy's wrist held gently between his fingers, even though his little explanation is over. It's superfluous, he knows, but since Nancy doesn't show any indication of pulling away, he keeps the contact, hoping that she doesn't mind.
He studies Nancy carefully after her question, now that they're almost face-to-face. Jonathan doesn't believe that Nancy would take awful photos, of course. He's seen the type of photos she's taken, having spent the night in her room, exposed to all the photos pinned up along her wall, and even though they're different to the types of photos he takes, they have their own way of capturing happiness. The most glaring difference between their photos is all of Nancy's feature posed subjects, whilst Jonathan strives to take candid, spontaneous shots whenever people are involved.
He lowers his hand, bringing hers with him, and rests them atop where their knees meet. ]
Yeah. Of course. [ His voice is softer, quieter, owing to how near they are. Although he knows he should really get up and fetch the camera, he doesn't quite feel like moving yet. ] What would you want me to take a photo of, though? [ While traces of the earlier smile linger on his face, Jonathan's expression is also contemplative as he looks at her - curious. ]
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looking at him like this, she's reminded of when they'd sat together on her bed, their hands finding each other in a split second when her mother had interrupted their discussion. nancy's mind keeps slipping back to moments they'd shared before, like something in her subconscious wants her to connect each dot of their relationship and make... some kind of whole, reach some kind of conclusion. right now, that conclusion unfathomably seems to be that they've found themselves in these moments—these close enough to kiss moments—a fair number of times in the past. and she had leaned into him before, because then she'd felt like maybe it was right, that maybe they'd been leading up to that moment for days.
he lowers their hands, his fingers still loose around her wrist even as her hand settles half on top of her own knee and half on top of his. she curls in her fingers slowly, knuckles rubbing over the denim of his jeans. it seems silly to keep that contact, but she doesn't want to pull away or make him feel like she wants him to let her go. she doesn't, really. the fact that he reached for her at all is a reassurance that he feels comfortable around her. it's something she never expected to care so much about. ]
Um. [ she stalls for a moment, glancing down at their hands for while she pretends to think. she'd expected this question, and she wonders what he might think of her answer. when she speaks again, she matches his gentle tone. ] Maybe I could take a picture of you? [ her eyes are expectant and yet timid when they hover on his face. she looks away again just as fast, chin dipping as she looks down at the photos in the box. words come slowly. ]
You don't have many of those. [ and the way she says it makes it sound like she thinks that's a shame. her lips shape a sad smile. ]
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What Jonathan really wants is to take a photo of Nancy, because while he, of course, likes her - an agonizing amount, he's beginning to realize - he also wants to capture Nancy as she is now. Like this, in his room, she's different. Different to how she is with her parents and with Mike, and different again to how she is at school. Nancy-in-his-bedroom-Nancy feels like a fleeting construct, one that Jonathan wants to catch before it disappears into peppy bravado again.
Nancy looks down at her hands, and Jonathan is brought back into the moment, whisked away from his careful study of her features. He doesn't rush her for an answer, though with the stalling, Jonathan suspects that maybe she'll take him up on the lesson another day. It's late, after all, and the only dynamic subjects around right now are the two of them and Mike and Will (the latter two of which would be highly uncooperative). At school or in the daytime, they'll have their peers and assorted wildlife - things they can shoot from further away.
When Nancy suggests taking a picture of him, then, surprise flashes across Jonathan's features. Confusion quickly follows, taking the form of a slightly furrowed brow, but then Nancy elaborates and it clears. ]
I'm - [ Jonathan laughs, and it's the type of laughter that comes from being surprised and flustered all at once. ] - not that photogenic.
[ He's deflecting a little, although he doesn't consider himself a looker by any standards, of course. Jonathan Byers is accustomed to being known as the outsider in school - the outcast - and with that territory comes the jibes of looking and acting like a creep. But it's not just about looks, it's about Jonathan being so used to watching people and recording moments around him that he's never given much thought of somebody wanting to watch and record him. It might be a side-effect of Lonnie being a neglectful father - might even be a side-effect of Joyce dedicating a lot of her attention to Will (which he doesn't blame her for, of course, not one bit). Either way, Nancy's idea blindsides him.
Jonathan finds that he's holding Nancy's wrist more firmly now, and he's not sure when that happened, but he still doesn't let go. He doesn't relax his grip, either. ]
You might have to get me a new camera again if you do that. [ The tone he uses is too gentle and soft for a joke despite it being one. ]
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her head lifts at his laughter, and she smiles a little. the sound comes from self-consciousness she can tell, but it's... well, it's cute. maybe not the reaction she was expecting, but she doesn't really have complaints. her brow furrows a little when he finishes the sentence. her head cocks to the side. ] Oh, come on.
[ no, jonathan byers does not have the kind of movie star look that steve harrington almost undeniably has, but that doesn't mean he isn't nice to look at. in truth, she'd never really given his appearance much thought before will disappeared. she never had reason to be interested in him, and yes, he had been labeled a creep and worse things around school. the gossip and whispers from their peers didn't exactly help his chances, even if nancy was well aware of the connection they had because of their brothers' intense friendship.
now, though. now. his fingers tighten ever so slightly around her wrist, and she can't help a small swallow, a flimsy attempt to keep her heart from jumping to her throat.
the joke is— not a joke. the way he says it makes that clear, and it's obvious that the words aren't exactly his, but an idea he's been led to believe. it makes something burn red hot in her stomach, because he shouldn't be made to think that. it's bullshit. ]
Jonathan. [ and it's clear in her voice that she's upset, not at him but at whoever put that thought in his head. ] That's not true. [ the fierce need to reassure him manifests itself in her free hand suddenly moving, reaching out to him. she turns just a little bit more, facing him completely, and lets her fingers comb through his bangs, brushing them to the side to reveal more of his face, his eyes (they're either brown or green; she can't quite tell in this light though she'd really, really like to know). his skin is warm where her fingertips skim over it. her hand hovers a moment beside his face, looking at him with intensity. the spells breaks for some reason, and she breathes, her hand falling to land on top of his, making a chain. her hand on his hand around her wrist. suddenly self-conscious, nancy looks down, but it isn't long before her gaze flickers up again. she can't help it. ]
It's not true. [ quieter this time, but with just as much force. her way of saying something like you're handsome or beautiful or whatever he'd prefer.
her eyes are soft as she looks at him. ]
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She's upset, Jonathan realises belatedly. On his behalf.
Although surprised at Nancy's sudden movement, Jonathan doesn't flinch or withdraw when her fingers sweep through his hair. He's not sure he knows how to react, really, and so for that moment that she gazes up at him (and the moment seems to stretch into long seconds, heavy and slow), all he can do is gaze back at her, his eyes searching hers. The way she looks at him is so adamant, like words aren't enough to convey her feelings on this, and it's that way she looks at him that really seals the deal, really hammers it home that Nancy Wheeler doesn't think he looks ugly, and that matters. A lot.
The brief contact is over too soon, and before Jonathan gets a chance to take Nancy's hand with another of his own (before he gets a chance to hold it where it is beside his face) Nancy drops her hand, and her eyes dart away. This is shaky ground, and Jonathan wants to tread carefully. Though they've held hands before, it's been in the moment, interrupted and pulled away from when attention is called to the fact. Right now, though, Nancy's hand atop his locks them into place, and even if it's not technically holding hands (not in the traditional sense), it still feels like a big step forward. Neither of them have pulled away or run.
Nancy looks up at him again, reiterates, and her eyes are so honest and open that Jonathan's breath catches at the sight of her. ]
Nancy - [ He says her name softly, and although Jonathan hasn't decided whether that's the beginning of an explanation, an apology, or a question, it ultimately doesn't matter, because he cuts himself off abruptly in favour of reaching his free hand up to carefully cup her cheek. His thumb grazes her cheekbone.
Jonathan wants to kiss her. He knows he probably shouldn't, but he wants to. He lets the silence hang and leans in, just a fraction, testing the waters. ]
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she can't dwell on the thought long, though, because here they are, looking at each other with this kind of delicate longing that she can't call a misunderstanding. their fingers are tangled and this time it isn't a mistake or a fluke. her hand holds his because she wants it to, because she'd sought out the feel of his skin.
when he says her name like that—like he needs to be careful with it, like it holds more weight than he knows how to carry—her lips purse, because she's scared. she's scared to feel so much so soon for someone who isn't her boyfriend, but she does. the fact that these feelings are still here in her chest, desperate to get out, long after the unfathomable circumstances that brought the two of them together proves that they're not going to be ignored. she has to face them head-on.
she blinks when his hand finds her face, his palm touching her cheek. it doesn't feel like this can be real, but his thumb sliding against her cheekbone lets her know that yes, jonathan byers is going to kiss her and yes, she wants him to. her heart hammers out the words.
he moves and then stops short, and suddenly the most terrifying thing is the prospect that he won't kiss her. her eyes flicker from his mouth to his eyes, and she gives the tiniest of nods, finding herself leaning closer to him, too. ]
It's okay. [ she says on a breath, and her nose could almost touch his. she squeezes his hand. ]