45. Secret

A/N: tank03 requested a rewrite of the Mileven breakup arc and while it was a lot harder to write than I thought it was going to be, I enjoy this more than what the screenwriters came up with. Thanks also to Hollow Lives, who helped fuel my thoughts for this piece.

I hope you all are safe and well. Hopefully, a little Mileven fluff can make quarantine a bit more bearable!

"Here's what's going to happen."

Hopper doesn't need to look at the kid to know he's listening.

"I'm going to drive you home. And I'm going to speak. And then maybe—"

He leans forward, channeling every intimidating gesture he can think of.

"Maybe by the end of it, maybe if you're lucky, I will continue to allow you to date my daughter."

Ha, fat chance of that happening. He's going to break them up. No matter what it takes, there will be no more cheeky comments, no more hour-long make-out sessions. They were done. Over. So he can finally regain his sanity.

He looks over at the boy, his hands clenching around the steering wheel. Mike's eyes are wide and, dare he say it, terrified.

Bingo. He's got the kid on the hook.

"Nod if you understand!"

He nods and Hopper turns the ignition, his speech already running through his head as he presses on the gas.

He remains silent as he navigates through the woods, letting the boy's nerves build as he relishes in finally having the upper hand. When he's out on the main road, he squares his shoulders and speaks with all of the authority he possesses.

"You are not allowed to see El tomorrow."

"What? That's—"

"Hey, hey, hey, what did I just say? You are not allowed to speak, Michael."

Mike huffs and crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat to glare out the window. Hopper rolls his eyes at his attitude but pushes on anyway.

"You are spending way too much time together and it's unhealthy for both of you. So if I find you at my house tomorrow, your little relationship is over, I will make sure of it. Do you understand?"

"No."

Hopper slams on the brakes, jolting the car forward and Mike cries out indignantly.

"What did you just say?" he asks, ignoring the kid's protest as he pulls the vehicle onto the side of the road so he can stare him down.

"You heard me. I said no. You can't keep me from seeing El. What, three hundred and fifty-three days wasn't enough for you? Three hundred and fifty-three days of misery for both of us didn't bring you enough joy? You have to add one more to be satisfied?"

Hopper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No kid, I'm not trying to punish you, all right? This is for El's safety—hers and yours. You're too attached, okay? It's not healthy."

"It's not healthy for us to be apart either! Do you know how much I worry when I'm not with her? Do you know how happy she makes me? Why would you want to take that away from us? What is wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" he snaps back, barely bothering to contain his frustration. "You've been in my house every day for the past six months to see her. Grow up, Mike, you can handle one day."

"Even if I could, you have no right to mess with our relationship. She is her own person with her own thoughts and feelings and so am I. We can decide when we want to see each other on our own, we don't need you to figure that out for us. Now, are you going to take me home, or should I start walking?"

"Kid, I'm just asking for one day of space between you two. If you keep this up, she's going to be entirely too dependent on you and not able to function if you're around."

"Too late."

Damn it, the kid was right. It was almost too late. If he had a dollar for every time El mentioned Mike's name in a day, he'd be able to retire. She wasn't unhappy when he wasn't around, but it was obvious she was always thinking about him. Hopper doesn't know much about relationships, but he does know that if they ever had to separate for any reason, it would destroy her.

Better start now then.

"You think I don't know that? I'm trying to help you be independent, okay?"

"We don't need your help."

Mike's voice is stern and definite and it occurs to Hopper that he's losing to a fourteen-year-old. He slams his hand on the steering wheel and the kid jumps.

"Why do you continue to disrespect me, Michael? I'm ordering you to stop seeing her for your own good. Why can't you just do as you're told?"

"Because I lo—"

Hopper's eyebrows raise as far as they can go.

The boy almost said it. He almost said the L word.

Deep down, he knows that's why, but he'd never admit it. They were too young. Too young to have guns aimed at them, too young to fight monsters.

Entirely too young to be in love.

Mike's gone silent, his mouth still open to shape around the word he almost spit out. His face flashes through so many emotions, he thinks the kid's going to cry. Eventually, he bites his lip sheepishly and looks down, his shoulders slumped.

Fascinating.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asks, feigning obliviousness.

Mike doesn't respond, sniffing once, but otherwise staying quiet and still. So, he tries again.

"What were you going to say, Mike?" he says, emphasizing each word. There's a pause before he shakes his head, his eyes still not meeting his. Hopper fights back a smirk and leans back against the car door.

"Could you tell El what you were about to say?"

Mike's eyes fill with fear and Hopper has his answer.

"Alright. Then here's the deal, kid. You are not allowed to see her ever again until you can admit that to her face."

With that, he throws the truck into drive and peels out onto the road.

Mike loses track of how long he lays on his bed just staring at the ceiling that night, his thoughts stormy and swirly.

He can't believe he had almost blurted out his deepest secret in front of his girlfriend's father. That was meant to stay locked away until they were older and he could process the consuming, fiery emotion he felt when he was around El. He'd only put a name to it in the past couple months-it still steals his breath when she smiles and his heart whispers how much he loves her.

He had even felt it today when they were hastily rearranging themselves to make it look like they hadn't been kissing. They were settled behind their comic books and El had blown him a kiss before she let Hopper into the room. His heart had raced wildly as he caught it with a grin and he thought he was going to melt from how happy she makes him.

No way was he ready to tell her he was in love with her yet. What if he scared her away? What if he had to explain it and she didn't understand? What if she thought he was weird and obsessive?

What if she didn't feel the same?

He's been trying to convince himself that he'd be fine if she didn't. There are plenty of other boys out there and maybe she's just pitying him for a little bit before she's able to explore her options. Maybe she only likes him a little and will be intimidated by how deeply he feels by her. Maybe she hates him and is only staying with him because she feels obligated to.

His thoughts have traced this path many times before, but it still waters the seed of doubt in his mind every time he goes down it. Somewhere along that path, he knows she at least must feel something for him. She's saved his life on multiple occasions, listened to almost all of his nightly calls last year, initiated kissing him several times and the way she looks at him turns his insides into a puddle of gooey happiness.

But is it love?

He's too scared to find out.

Things would change, he just knows it. If she doesn't reciprocate, then they could try all they wanted to move on, but there would be a barrier between them and he'd always be reminded of what he couldn't have.

If she does, however. He starts to smile just thinking about it. If she does, they'll be invincible.

Telling her now seems ludicrous, but maybe Hopper was right. He's not right about most things, but if he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he feels, why should he be around her and hide it from her?

Tomorrow, he decides. He'll tell her tomorrow.

'I'm not going to tell her today,' is the first thought he has when he wakes up. Whatever he was thinking last night was stupid.

She would laugh in his face if he told her now. They're not even in high school yet, he's got plenty of time to tell her. Why should he let a grumpy, overprotective man dictate his relationship with El? He'll tell her when they're ready and that's final.

...

But what if he shows up at the cabin today and Hopper tells El himself?

The Chief of Police has blackmail over him.

Crap.

He calls El right at 9:00. It rings twice before she picks up, sounding out of breath.

"Mike?"

Despite the pit in his stomach, he smiles.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Because you're late. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm, um—I'm fine."

"Then why are you still at home?"

He covers the receiver and blows out a breath, praying that this doesn't go as badly as he thinks it well.

"I should've called earlier, but I'm not coming to see you today."

There's a heavy silence and he squeezes his eyes shut, willing her to at least respond.

"What?"

Her voice is timid and devastated and his stomach plummets.

"It's not because I don't, um—care about you anymore, I swear it's not that. It's just—Hopper told me last night that I'm not allowed to see you until I tell you—something. And I wasn't going to listen to him, because I always want to spend time with you, but—I don't know, I just don't want him to tell you if I come over."

"Then tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me what Hop wants you to tell me."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and grits his teeth.

"That's the thing, El. I...I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's, um—it's a private thing."

"A secret?"

Secrets were a big deal to her. Secrets were bad. They meant something was being plotted against her and she hated them. He rarely had any to keep from her and he feels safe enough with her to tell her almost anything. Except this. She'd respect that, right?

"It won't stay that way for long, alright? I just...I need time to think."

Again, there's silence and he doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Then...

"Hop?"

Her voice is muffled like she had covered the receiver and he sucks in a breath.

"Yeah kid?" he hears Hopper respond.

"What does Mike want to tell me?"

"El!" he cries, trying to get her attention because if Hopper tells El, he might just murder the man.

"I'll let him tell you himself," Hopper replies and Mike blows out a sigh of relief. "Although," he continues and raises his voice in a way that Mike knows it's directed to him. "He better not lay eyes on you until he tells you."

Mike cringes and there's a beat, before El's voice returns.

"Mike, this is stupid. I want to see you. Please, just tell me."

He almost does. The words sit heavy on his tongue, ready to spill out into the world, but every what-if holds him back and his head hangs in resignation.

"Not yet, El. Someday, hopefully. But not now. I don't think I'm ready and I'm, uh—scared of how you'll react."

"You're...you're afraid of me?"

"No, no, no, not of you, I'm just afraid of what you might say or do."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because it's big, El. Really big. I don't know how you'll think of me afterward, so I'm...scared."

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you not trust me?"

This was not going well.

"Yeah, of course I do. Just—I'll figure out a way for us to hang out tomorrow, alright? Don't tell Hopper."

"...okay."

"Miss you already, El, see you tomorrow."

With that, he hastily hangs up the phone and blows out a breath.

That...could've been worse at least.

With little hesitation, he calls the Sinclair house, then the Byers' and ten minutes later, Lucas has flopped on his couch while Will sits at the D&D table as Mike relays his story with much frustration.

"Dude, Hopper can't actually stop you from seeing her," Lucas says once he's finished and Mike rakes a hand through his hair.

"Physically, no, he can't. But you don't understand—if I show up there without having told El, he'd probably tell her himself and that's the last thing I want."

"So...you're not going to see her until you tell her, which you aren't planning on doing?"

"I don't know, Lucas! I just...I don't know."

"What is it that you have to tell her, anyway? Why can't she just know?"

"Trust me, I wish it was that simple."

There's a beat and then something in Lucas's face shifts and he sits up straighter.

"Dude. You don't...L-word her, do you?"

Heat rises to his cheeks and he does nothing to stop it. He's so obvious about it around them, no matter how hard he tries not to be, that he wouldn't be surprised if they already knew. So, he chooses not to respond, looking anywhere but their faces.

"Oh snap dude, you do!" Lucas exclaims and Mike does his best to glare at him but knows it falls short when his friend

laughs instead. "Mikey's in loooooooove!"

"Please shut up, Lucas. And if either of you tell her, I will murder you," he says, dread already forming in his stomach that both of them knew now.

"How do you know that's what you feel?" Will asks, looking more confused than anything.

It was a valid question to which Mike had many answers. Not only is she his favorite person, but she's incredibly sweet and brave and pretty and smart and—

"Mike."

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"I just know, okay? I've never felt like this before about anyone."

"So why don't you tell her?" Lucas asks.

"Because I don't want her to laugh in my face," Mike mumbles.

"Dude, are you serious? Do you see the way she looks at you?"

Mike stares at him for a beat before he shakes his head.

"It's almost worse than how you look at her. She definitely cares about you. A lot."

"Yeah, but does she—" He's still cautious about saying it, so he cuts himself off and gestures with his hands instead.

"I don't know, dude. You'll have to ask her yourself."

Mike sighs and purses his lips. Lucas was right. The only way he'd find out is if he asked. And that scared the hell out of him.

"Alright, it's official," Lucas says, standing up from the couch. "You're thinking way too much. You need a distraction."

"No I'm not!" Mike protests.

"Yes you are. You look all gloomy and crap."

"Where are we going?" Will asks as Lucas heads for the stairs.

"The mall," he replies without looking back. "You coming?"

Mike still doesn't understand what they're doing here.

Sure, he'd love to find something to win back El's heart, a sort of apology gift, but nothing looks like her. She's not that into makeup, none of the clothes fit her style, all the books sounded boring and too adult. Nothing was working. The only thing close was the teddy bear charm they found in the jewelry shop and he smiled for the first time that day, knowing she'd probably love it. Being in that store, however, got him thinking about how she's the only girl he wants to marry and, considering that he can't even spit out his true feelings, he doesn't know how on earth he'd ask her to marry him.

Lucas and Will rolled their eyes and dragged him out of there before he had an existential crisis.

Needless to say, his spirits were very low by the time they left an hour later.

"What if she just never speaks to me again?" he asks as they pull their bikes off the rack.

"Mike. If you mention her one more time, I'm going to run you over with my bike," Lucas says, "Relax, dude. Maybe she'll come around tomorrow."

"Isn't this a nice surprise?"

His stomach drops. His eyes land on Max first and when they flit over to the girl standing next to her, his heart stutters and he feels his bike slip out of his grasp.

His first thought is that she looks good. Really good. His second is that, if a bad man recognizes her, they were screwed.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, doing a quick check around them to make sure she wasn't being watched.

"Shopping," El says, her voice matching the glare in her eyes.

"It's her new style," Max adds. "What do you think?"

He ignores her question, incredulous that she had been so careless.

"What's wrong with you? You know she's not allowed to be here."

"What is she, your little pet?"

"Yeah, am I your pet?" El says. He's never heard her that sassy.

What had Max done to his girlfriend?

"What? No!"

"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"

On second thought, what had he done to his girlfriend?

"What?"

"You keep secrets from me."

His chuckle is humorless.

"That's what this is about? El, I'm really sorry, but I'm just not ready yet."

"Boyfriends don't keep secrets," she retorts, her tone still flat and accusing.

"Says who?" he replies.

"Max."

He glares at the redhead. When all this is over, he's going to have a serious talk with her.

"Keeping secrets is the same thing as lying, Mike," Max quips, looking smug and defiant.

He rolls his eyes.

"Okay, first of all, you're wrong. Second of all, I'll tell you eventually, El. I told you that."

"But I can't see you until you tell me," El says, for the first time looking deflated and more like herself.

She was right. It was almost impossible to see her without seeing Hopper.

"El—"

"Mike."

Her gaze is imploring and honest. Whatever ideas Max had put in her head were gone. They were at a stalemate and it was either tell her or lose her.

"Okay. Okay, El. I'll tell you."

She lights up, beaming at him so prettily and he suddenly forgets why he was ever hesitant to tell her. Not in front of their friends, though.

"Just—not here."

"Why not here?"

"It's a private thing, remember?"

"Yeah, and besides," Lucas pipes up from behind him. "We already know what he wants to tell you."

Mike could've smacked him.

El's eyes grow wide, losing the joy that had been there moments ago to what looks like fear, and Lucas scrambles to recover.

"Not that we know because Mike's talking about you behind your back. I mean, he is, but not in the way you think."

"Lucas," Mike hisses.

"You've been talking about me?" El says quietly and he looks to see that her eyes are beginning to brim with tears. Damnit, he had been so close. He was ready to tell her how he truly feels and now this?

"No, no, no, El, not bad things—" he rushes to explain, but it's like she doesn't even hear him.

"Do you know?" Her question is directed at Will, who gives a small nod, at least having the decency to look ashamed.

She bites her lip as the first tear spills over and he can feel his heart withering away. She looks behind her at Max, not even bothering to repeat her question.

"I don't know for certain, but I have a pretty good idea of what Mike needs to say to you. I bet he's just too scared to say it," Max replies, looking at him smugly and he suddenly forgets why he ever liked her.

"Scared of me," El whispers as she turns back to him, looking lost and alone.

"El, let me explain. Please." He can fix this. He has to fix this.

"No."

She takes a step forward, swallowing a sob.

"You keep secrets from me because you're scared of me."

In the distance, a bus hisses.

She's about to leave. Oh no. Oh no no no no, it can't end like this.

"El, please—"

"I dump your ass, Mike. Go find someone better for you."

With that, she turns with a sob and runs for the bus.

He wonders if she could hear the sound of his heart shattering on the sidewalk.

He doesn't see her for a week.

He doesn't see hardly anyone for a week. If El was done with him, then he saw little reason to try and win her back. She obviously didn't feel for him the way he felt for her, so what was the point? She wasn't willing to hear him out. End of story.

If only it were that easy to dismiss it.

He sits closer to depression than he has since she was gone, his mind short-circuiting at the thought of a life without El in it. His world goes gray—empty and meaningless without the dancing colors she brings. He spends all his time in the basement, writing a little, drawing a little, watching a few movies, but he has a noticeable lack of motivation to do anything.

A small piece of him hasn't given up hope for rekindling his relationship with her. After all they'd been through, it doesn't make logical sense for them to split over a mistake on his part that they could fix if they tried. He'd stared down death for her and she for him and now they stopped seeing each other because of an argument?

Still, if El thought that him holding something back from her was hurtful enough to just end it all, then he'd done the worst thing he could've done.

It was day three or four when his thoughts turned to anger towards Max. He wasn't mad at El, but Max? Boyfriends don't keep secrets? Really? And the way she egged El on—it makes him furious the more he thinks about it.

Ultimately, he knows El was responsible for her own actions. Regardless of Max's manipulation, the final decision was her call, which makes it all the worse. She decided to dump him, not Max. But Max had stepped way out of line and she had no business meddling in his relationship with El.

He contemplates calling Max up to have a talk with her, but what would be the point? He'd just get angry and then she'd get defensive and they wouldn't get anywhere and it certainly wouldn't make El take him back.

He's been avoiding Party gatherings so he doesn't have to see either of them. Lucas and Will try to contact him multiple times and they show up at his doorstep one day, but talking with them didn't solve anything. Will was quietly sympathetic (although, he can tell that he's hoping that this means Mike will spend more time with him, which makes him feel even worse). Lucas tries to lift him back up with all sorts of stereotypical things about women, but he isn't having it. He respects El, even if she is his ex now.

He's feeling a little better by day seven. It had been a week, and he was still alive. Life was still moving on, albeit sluggishly and mundanely without the girl with chocolate doe eyes. He was okay though. His heart ached and he missed her terribly, but he'd learned to breathe with the pain.

Then something changed. He finally sees her again on day eight.

He's reading an Avengers comic when there's a knock on the basement door. Half of him wants to hide and pretend he isn't here, but whoever it is, they probably mean well and he should at least greet them to tell them he's still not in the mood to hang out. With a sigh, he walks over to the door anyway and opens it cautiously.

His heart stutters. It's El. Beautiful El.

The second before they lock eyes, her face is blank, almost coldly so. She looks passive and strong, yet as soon as she looks at him, a flicker of warmth passes through her eyes. He knows he should say something, but the way she's looking at him steals his breath away. Isn't he not supposed to feel this way anymore?

He watches as she struggles to maintain her resolve, but after a few beats, her face crumples, and she's throwing her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He doesn't refuse her (because he can't. Not ever) and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close and it feels so good to have her in his arms. They stand there like that for a while, breathing one another in and Mike feels the spikes that had pierced his heart slowly start to slip away.

Eventually, her shoulders rise and fall with a sigh and she pulls back.

"We should talk," she says quietly and he nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets sheepishly. They move toward the couch without a word and he watches her as they sit down. Her guard isn't up, he can tell that by the look on her face and he slowly lets his guard down, too. She's not here to fight. She's here to—well, he's not sure what she's here to do, but just being by her side again is soothing whatever ache had made itself a home in his chest.

They haven't said anything and Mike takes that as his cue to go first. Taking a moment to collect himself, he blows out a breath and turns to face her.

"El?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to apologize. For everything. I messed up and I'm sorry. I hurt you and that's not what boyfriends are supposed to do. I should've just told you and I'm sorry I got scared. Not of you, I promise not of you. I just doubted myself and I'm sorry. I really am."

He runs out of words, his heart beating rapidly as if it's trying to reach her through his chest. She's staring at him with a certain warmth in her gaze and he can't tell if it's condescending or forgiving. Either way, he barely breathes as she looks down at her hands and he can almost see the thoughts trying to piece themselves together in her head.

"Max and Lucas got back together."

He blinks. That was the last thing he expected her to say following his apology. She had heard him...right?

"And then they broke up two days later."

He can't help it. He snorts.

"Again?" he quips and she half-smiles, looking back up at him.

"Yeah. Again."

He rolls his eyes playfully, feeling the last of his walls come crumbling down. If she's going to break his heart again, this was the perfect time to do it, because he's vulnerable and in love and right now is when it would hurt the most.

"I don't want to be like them," she continues. "They broke up because Max wouldn't listen to Lucas. I want to listen to you, Mike. I'm sorry I didn't before. I don't want to break up because of stupid stuff. We're not them, we're...we're..."

"Different. We're different," he says quietly and it takes him a beat to realize tears are blurring his vision.

"Yeah, different," she whispers, her smile watery and he wants to pinch himself because there's no way this is real. How is she so...good?

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for saying sorry." She scoots closer to him and takes one of his hands, their fingers lacing together and he squeezes once. "I forgive you."

He stops trying to swallow his tears.

"Thanks, El."

"I'm, um—I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have listened to Max. She was wrong. You don't treat me like garbage and I don't think I'm your pet. And you can have secrets."

"I don't want to have secrets if it hurts you, though."

She contemplates this, her brow furrowing, though her thumb idly continues to trace circles on his skin.

"Some secrets hurt. But others are private and they can be just for you. I have secrets that are just for me, too."

He nods, dumbstruck.

"Okay. Cool. I like that."

She smiles, peeking up at him through her lashes.

"Cool. And, um—you don't have to tell me whatever it is. Hopper said you can come over again and he'll keep your secret."

"Really? Does he miss me?"

She chuckles. "He said he doesn't, but I think he does. And..." She scoots forward to whisper conspiratorially.

"I hid all his beer."

"El!" he exclaims and she giggles. It's the cutest thing he's ever heard.

"I gave it back!" she says, playfully rolling her eyes.

"You're the coolest," he replies and doesn't think twice before leaning forward and pecking her on the cheek.

He darts back quickly, forgetting that they were still broken up. He feels his face heat up as he starts to stammer out an apology.

"Sorry, that—I didn't mean—I shouldn't have—"

"Mike," she gently interrupts. "I want us to be able to kiss again, if—if that's okay with you?"

"You want us to get back together?"

"Yes."

"You—you want to get back together with me?"

"Yes, Mike. Can I be your girlfriend again?"

"Of course. If I can be your boyfriend," he replies, feeling like he's floating.

"Duh," she whispers right before she presses a kiss to his lips.

That's when he decides he's going to do it.

"El?"

"Mmm?"

"I actually do want to tell you what I was going to tell you. You know, the big secret?"

She pulls back, her brow furrowed.

"You don't have to. I don't want to make you do it."

"You're not, I swear. I just need to get it off my chest and it's important for—for us."

"Us?"

He nods and stands to his feet, reaching out to pull her up as well. She's looking up at him all curious and trusting and he knows that no matter how she responds, she deserves to know how cared for she is.

"El, I—"

The word is right there. He just has to say it.

"I, um—"

Fear cuts words off again and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Why is this so hard to say?" he mutters nervously. "Um, El, I—"

His words are cut off again by a pair of soft, familiar hands wrapping around his wrists and she tugs his hands out of his pockets.

"Mike," she says quietly as she takes a step closer. Her fingers interlace with his and she gazes up at him. Every doubt he has goes quiet at the look in her eyes and it tumbles out of him.

"I love you."

His heart stutters.

His words hang in the air, wrapping themselves around the two. He's breathless and she hasn't taken a breath either and it's like they're suspended in their own patch of time they discovered on their own.

Magic. It's magical.

Until he realizes she's just staring at him and he rushes to lessen the blow.

"If you don't love me back, that's totally fine, but I just thought you should know, you know, something so big. Nothing has to change, I just—yeah. I love you. A lot."

She still doesn't say anything and he clears his throat, his heart starting to shrivel up. He lets go of her hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

She shakes her head, suddenly frantic.

"Mike, no, don't be sorry. Look at me. Please?"

He does, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and finds sparkling joy in her eyes.

"Mike. I love you too."

He blinks.

She's kissing him and he feels his lips respond to hers, but it's like someone pulled the plug on his thoughts and everything goes dead.

She pulls back, a beaming smile on her face that quickly falls into an expression of confusion.

"Mike? Did you hear me?"

Yeah, that's the problem. He heard her.

"I—I love you," he hears her try again, her voice growing softer and more timid and it kicks his thoughts back to life.

"Really?" he whispers, hope glimmering in his chest and he can feel his lips curling up into a bashful grin.

He never believed she felt the same way. He had laid awake many nights since her return in November trying to decide if his love was returned, but the conclusion was always the same. El doesn't love him.

Unless he was utterly wrong.

"Yes," she exclaims, her giggle all breathless and playful. "Yes, you mouthbreather. I love you too."

Happiness rushes through every part of his body and he's reaching for her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting off her feet, laughing in pure relief. She's laughing too, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders and he could've sworn they were flying.

"We're in love!" she proclaims as he sets her down and he chuckles.

"We are," he agrees, knowing he's never going to stop smiling.

She stands on her toes and he meets her halfway. Their kiss feels different, warmer, safer, sweeter.

"I love you," he murmurs when they part for the heck of it because he can and she's here and real and this is real.

"I love you too, Michael Wheeler."

"Yeah?" he asks as he nuzzles his nose with hers.

"Always."

Take that, Hopper.