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strawberryspence · 1 year

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00:59 🕰️

Steve can't remember a time he's run this fast, his heart beating so loudly against his chest. He wishes, not for the first time, that he has the ability to control time. But as he runs, four lines cracking in the sky, he has never wished for it harder than right now.

Even from a distance, he can already hear it. Dustin's crying, screaming and— Steve’s mind goes to the worst place possible. His brother, just shredded into pieces by demon bats, bleeding and dying. God, he shouldn't have left the two of them. What was he thinking? Eddie was a rookie; he was a newbie to all of this.

“Steve! Help!” He sees Dustin, sitting upright, a sigh of relief passes through him before he realizes that Dustin’s cradling a body.

Steve slides on to the ground as he reaches them. There's— There's so much blood. He doesn't think he's ever seen so much blood.

00:43 🕰️

“Fuck, Eddie. Stay awake.” Steve urges as he pulls off his coat and presses it hard on Eddie’s bleeding torso.

Beside him, he can hear Nancy and Robin catching up to him. There bags landing on the floor with a thud.

“I can't.” Eddie mutters back, barely even audible.

“No, Eddie. You have to.” Steve says, as he looks up to Nancy. Nancy will know what to do, she'll— she'll find a way.

She always found a way. She’ll tell them that it's gonna be okay, that they'll bring Eddie to the hospital and he'll be fine, “Nance, what do we do?”

Nancy's eyes are traveling all over Eddie, her eyes checking. There's something painful that passes through her face, before she finally meets Steve’s eyes and she shakes her head.

“No! Nancy! We can still go! I can carry him to the hospital!” Dustin's crying beside him, Robin has a shaking hand against his shoulder for comfort.

“Steve.” He turns, Eddie’s glassy eyes stares back at him, “You have to go. I won’t—” He coughs more blood, so much blood, “I won't make it.”

“I told you not to be a hero!” Steve defends, his eyes already filled with tears.

Steve selfishly wants to say so much more, beg Eddie to fight so Steve can know him more, ask him for his forgiveness, learn his favorite songs and his favorite bands and how he likes his coffee in the morning, smoke some weed with him, be his friend, maybe see if there's something in that small spark of electricity he felt when there hands met. Steve wants more, wants to know who Eddie Munson really is.

“I am sorry. I had to keep Dustin safe.”

00:36 🕰️

Steve nods, smooths Eddie’s hair away from his face, “You did good. You did so good, Eddie.”

Dustin’s still crying; but Robin's taken him away from Eddie. Steve knows it's about to happen, and no child deserves to watch their friend, their idol, their brother, die in front of them, in their arms.

Eddie smiles up at him, there's blood in his teeth, but it's— it's still so bright, his dimples deep and his smile beautiful. Steve wonders how long it will be after all of this before he completely forgets what Eddie looked like when smiling.

“What do you think will happen next, Steve?” Eddie asks, his breathing slowing down. In his hand, Steve can combs through Eddie's hair.

Steve chokes, but indulges him, “I think you’ll go somewhere good. Somewhere peaceful, with good lighting. You can paint those tiny little figurines Dustin keeps on bugging me to buy.”

Eddie laughs, it's small and quiet, but it's a laugh and it's the best damn thing Steve's ever heard, “That’d be great. That's a beautiful picture to paint a dying man, Steve.”

“It's the least I can do.”

00:27 🕰️

Eddie can barely move, but he raises his arm, cups Steve's face into his hand.

“Can you grant a dying man his last wish?” Eddie whispers.

Steve nods, “Whatever you want.”

“Kiss me?”

“Just fyi,” Steve whispers as he moves closer, “I would've done this too if you weren't dying.”

Eddie whimpers. Steve doesn't hesitate, doesn't even think about it, as he closes the gap between him and Eddie. There's a metallic taste in it, sweat and tears and blood all mixed together. But it's so terrifyingly sweet and tender, because it's Eddie. It's Eddie and Steve's just found everything he's ever wanted and it's all dying in his arms.

When they pull apart, Eddie has a small, content smile on his face. His hand slowly, falling from Steve’s face. Steve already misses the warm, callous fingers against his cheek.

“That was—” Eddie stares at him, “Magical.”

00:15 🕰️

“Eddie.” Steve sobs, holding his forehead against Eddie’s as he cradles him in his arms. Eddie hums softly. His heartbeat is almost skipping beats against Steve's hand, and god—

Eddie's brown eyes stare back at him. There's still that familiar twinkle in it, mischievous and real.

After all of this, Steve will miss it, he’ll dream about it, and will wander around cities searching for anything that comes remotely close to Eddie's brown eyes. He will never find it.

But for now, Eddie's eyes flutter close, so slow and soft, almost like a butterfly flapping its wings.

“I hope we meet again, Steve Harrington.”

00:00 🕰️

🕰️ 00:00

There's something so peaceful about museums. Steve never really understood his love for them, but in every city he visits, he makes sure to visit one.

Maybe it's because Steve is an architect, loves the way a building is sculpted to perfection to fit and house a collection of the world’s most beautiful pieces. Maybe it's because of his innate curiosity to learn and know the background of each piece, its history and its story.

Chicago has a few museums. The Art Museum has old and historic pieces, to new and modern pieces, all housed together in a beautiful building. He's been here before, for Robin's 16th birthday.

Steve looks down on his phone, sends a quick text to his younger sister, Robin, before turning it off. She tends to worry when he goes traveling, always worrying if he got kidnapped and taken away.

The guy on the front of the building smiles at him, checks his ticket and says, “Have a wonderful day! Enjoy the museum!”

🕰️ 00:00

Steve's not sure how much time passes as he moves along from one painting to another, from one piece of art to another.

He enters the part of the museum for the newly installed pieces from new artists. There's only a few people walking around. Across from Steve, something catches his eyes. It's a man and a younger boy. Steve can vaguely hear them fighting over what to eat for dinner: Taco Bell or Olive Garden.

Steve chances a glance at them, and almost stops on his tracks. The older man might actually be the most beautiful person Steve’s ever seen. The natural light coming from the window ceilings makes him look like an actual angel. He has long curly hair, it's all gathered together in a low ponytail that helps frame his jaw and face. He's smiling at the boy— his brother, Steve thinks— and he's got a dimple that Steve wants to poke.

Because he's a human being, the man turns, feeling the burn of someone's eyes on him.

Across the museum, their eyes meet and everything— just slowly blurs out. Steve should look away, pretend that he was never even looking in the first place, but this man has the brightest, brown eyes he has ever seen.

There's a feeling creeping in Steve's back, like he's been here before, but that's ridiculous he's never seen this man before. It's almost like— déjà vu.

The man snaps away first when his brother claps a hand in front of him.

Steve looks away in embarrassment, starts walking to the other side of the gallery to avoid the man.

A painting at the end captures his attention almost immediately.

🕰️ 00:00

Steve walks closer to it, instinctively gravitating towards it, something about the piece was calling to him.

The painting was simple. It was a landscape, but instead of the usual spring fields, with blue skies and clouds, it had a dark sky, with red specks and a bolt of lightning. Instead of green pastures, there's black vines surrounding the ground. In the middle, there's a boy, just sitting.

Steve squints at the plaque under it.

Edward Henderson

Born on March 27, 2023

Waiting, created on 2051

Acrylic on Canvas

Henderson is a new and upcoming modern artist from Chicago. Although he is a newbie, he is creating a name for himself with his vivid paintings. There's darkness in the way Henderson uses his colors, a way of showing his grief and longing.

“Waiting (the painting) came to me in a dream when I was younger. It was so real, so vivid. I was just sitting there, under the dark skies, waiting for someone, something.” - Henderson

Steve blinks at it, feels the beating of his heart in his chest and tries not to think about his own dreams, and how the painting in front of him is the perfect depiction of it.

He hears footsteps coming closer to him.

🕰️ 00:00

The man from before shows up on his peripheral view, he folds his arms and looks at the painting.

Steve's not sure how much time even passes as they stand beside each other, just staring at the painting, just waiting.

Steve turns to him first, just as the man turns to him and for a solid second, they just stare at each other.

The man smiles at him, and it's— it's bright, his dimples deep and his smile beautiful. It's like being in front of the sun and still not wanting to look away.

Steve easily returns the smile, something in his chest settling, like his heart physically sighing in content.

The man blinks at him, alive and slowly, almost like a butterfly flapping its wings, before saying, “Hello.”

🕰️ 00:01

based on this poem:

#steddie are soulmates im right #they are soulmates #theyll find each other again #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #steddie soulmates #steve harrington x eddie munson #tw mcd #tw major character death #tw blood

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