[ it really is like muscle memory, nancy's realizing belatedly, because he's leaning and it's just this simple, subtle, steve thing, who has always had a penchant for getting away with being in her space in a way that must people can't, but... right now it's notable because she still doesn't shy away from it, even now. it doesn't make her sit a little taller or just move away entirely, the same way she does whenever people get in her personal space. it doesn't tug on some insecurity, or personal hangup of hers. it's steve harrington, and the way he looks at her, and the way she really--
really has to focus on not leaning in, too. shit.
they're already sitting side by side, close without feeling intrusive, but she still has to focus on not tucking herself against him, or wind her arm through his so she can mush her cheek against his arm, or bully her way under his arm so it drapes around her snugly, keeping her close, where she remembers just how comfortably she fits. she still would, she knows it, it doesn't matter that steve's, ah, built different now. that he's bigger. ( bigger? buffer? god, for a journalist, words are really escaping her right now. ) anyway, he's bigger, and she knows she'd still fit comfortably against him, but if anything that makes it even harder to resist thinking about what it might feel like now, to sit closer to him, or sit on his- ]
Nope! No tips necessary.
[ she reaches out to move one of those glasses in front of her, then grabs up both bottles - rum in her right hand, coke in her left, biting the tip of her tongue as she concentrates on angling them both right to give them an even pour from the bottom to the top of that glass. ..that's how people mix drinks, right? 50/50? nancy clearly did not attend any more parties, after tina's halloween party. once both bottles are back on the table, she sits back with a smile and that full drink in both hands, clearly very proud of herself. ]
[ it is a constant struggle for steve, not to give in. now with such close proximity and no interruptions by hive minds or six little nuggets, he can see all the ways nancy has changed, has grown up. the way her hair frames her face, makes her look so much older. and yet underneath it all, it's still the same nancy wheeler, the same girl he once (and maybe even still does) thought he'd spend the rest of his life with.
he watches as nancy pours well over a shot into his drink, and dons the most amused expression he can muster. he shakes his head fondly and accepts it, accepting his fate. clearly he has some catching up to do, and this is certainly one way to do that. ]
Why thank you, madame. [ he grins as he holds up his glass in a toast. ] To surviving hell together. [ it's far too easy to trace his journey from the moment he met nancy to now, sitting in a basement, toasting the end of the world with her and struggling to remember how to be just friends. but if he had to pinpoint a moment to change, he's not sure that he would, in the end. each heartbreak, each struggle, defines who he is today. and if he has to walk away tonight with the realization that he and nancy are only destined to be friends?
well, having nancy wheeler as a friend wouldn't be such a bad thing. ]
You mix a strong drink, Wheeler. [ His voice sounds a little strained as he takes small sips, because he doesn't want to get too messy. He knows he still has to be able to control himself a little bit while around her. ]
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AHHH i'm so sorry for the wait!!
really has to focus on not leaning in, too. shit.
they're already sitting side by side, close without feeling intrusive, but she still has to focus on not tucking herself against him, or wind her arm through his so she can mush her cheek against his arm, or bully her way under his arm so it drapes around her snugly, keeping her close, where she remembers just how comfortably she fits. she still would, she knows it, it doesn't matter that steve's, ah, built different now. that he's bigger. ( bigger? buffer? god, for a journalist, words are really escaping her right now. ) anyway, he's bigger, and she knows she'd still fit comfortably against him, but if anything that makes it even harder to resist thinking about what it might feel like now, to sit closer to him, or sit on his- ]
Nope! No tips necessary.
[ she reaches out to move one of those glasses in front of her, then grabs up both bottles - rum in her right hand, coke in her left, biting the tip of her tongue as she concentrates on angling them both right to give them an even pour from the bottom to the top of that glass. ..that's how people mix drinks, right? 50/50? nancy clearly did not attend any more parties, after tina's halloween party. once both bottles are back on the table, she sits back with a smile and that full drink in both hands, clearly very proud of herself. ]
Et voila.
lmao now it's my turn to apologize
he watches as nancy pours well over a shot into his drink, and dons the most amused expression he can muster. he shakes his head fondly and accepts it, accepting his fate. clearly he has some catching up to do, and this is certainly one way to do that. ]
Why thank you, madame. [ he grins as he holds up his glass in a toast. ] To surviving hell together. [ it's far too easy to trace his journey from the moment he met nancy to now, sitting in a basement, toasting the end of the world with her and struggling to remember how to be just friends. but if he had to pinpoint a moment to change, he's not sure that he would, in the end. each heartbreak, each struggle, defines who he is today. and if he has to walk away tonight with the realization that he and nancy are only destined to be friends?
well, having nancy wheeler as a friend wouldn't be such a bad thing. ]
You mix a strong drink, Wheeler. [ His voice sounds a little strained as he takes small sips, because he doesn't want to get too messy. He knows he still has to be able to control himself a little bit while around her. ]