Chapter Text
The house was an absolute shithole.
The once-vibrant blue paint seemed to have faded into a muted light grey. The wooden porch had obviously been rotting from over exposure, any misstep and it would crack under pressure. Tangled vines and other plants seemed to grow all around and on the old home, giving it an almost abandoned look. There were multiple parts of the roof broken, patched together with scraps of wood and metal.
All in all, the place was an absolute dump.
The closer you walked, weighed down with large cardboard boxes full of heirlooms and old family photos, the more the stench of weed and rot seemed to overtake your senses.
"Are you sure this place is up to code?" You called out to your mom.
“You know, I would really appreciate an attitude adjustment,” Your mother responded, huffing behind you as the both of you walked up the stairs. Her shoulder knocked painfully into your as she pushed past to walk through the front door, sending a dull ache through your arm.
In all honesty you were by no means against the move. In fact, you had welcomed it. Hawkins Community College was only a ten minute drive away and your mom's new job as a receptionist at the local doctor's office gave her healthcare benefits, meaning that you could get your ass to a therapist as soon as you could find one.
Thank God.
Yet, out of all the places to live in, this was the one your mom decided on? Surely the trailer park was a step above it.
The inside of the house, while still very much aged, was better than the outside at least. The faint scent of mildew lingered in the air, but it could be easily fixed with a scented candle.
Your bedroom was located upstairs. The one time elegant staircase creaked under your feet as you walked up it. Once you made your way to the higher floor, you noticed the out of place brick wall that had been put up in the middle of the hall, sectioning the building into an apartment complex. You absently wondered what the home would have looked like back in the day, how gorgeous it would have been in its prime before the passage of time had humbled it.
Your bedroom was all the way down to the right. Big beautiful windows brought in the natural golden light from the setting sun. It obviously had not been cleaned prior, as the dust tickled your nose till you sneezed. Yet, there was a vintage charm to the place. Nothing a little TLC couldn't fix.
Soft steps on worn wood alerted to another person walking in.
"Oh you found it!" You mom exclaimed, walking up from behind you and looking around, "Maybe tomorrow we can go downtown and get some paint; you can pick out any color! A nice yellow would be nice- yes, it’ll open the room up."
"Yeah, that would be great.." You mumbled and walked in.
"Actually I was thinking of checking out that record store by the library," You told her, "I saw they had a help wanted sign in the window."
"Oh! Well that might be fun," Your mom smiled at you, "Maybe you could make some new friends."
"Yep.." You said, placing the heavy cardboard box down. You doubted it though. Making friends in a town like this seemed sweet and all, but once you got your Associates Degree you were getting the hell out of there, as far away as you could drive. Two years wasn't very long- hell maybe out of state colleges would accept a year's worth of grades if they were good enough.
CRASH!
The loud bang from downstairs made both you and your mother jolt, causing the two of you to walk out of the room to investigate the sound.
"Dammit, it's the moving guys," You mom sighed and began to walk downstairs, "I explicitly told them to be careful!"
While she made her way to reprimand the workers downstairs, you decided to explore the other rooms in the home. Making your way all the way down the hall (or as far as you could go with the giant brick obstacle in your way) you noted the cracks in the wallpaper and traced your fingers over the worn patterns.
Creaaaaaaaaak
A long drawn out groan sounded from behind.
Right by the stairs was a door that had opened on its own, "Probably a draft," You deducted. Yet, curiosity had wormed its way into your mind as your body made its way over to it.
Upon parting the door open further, you were surprised to find another set of stairs, somehow even more ancient than the staircase a few feet away from you.
Making your way up, you noticed the sudden change in temperature. The rest of the house had a pleasant warmth to it, keeping the chill from outside away, but up here was colder than the March winds outside. Goosebumps prickled on your flesh while you took in the decrepit room. The light was sparse, only a few beams filtering through the old wooden planks. In the corner you could just barely make out a small wooden table that was completely covered in dust and old, decaying paper drawings.
There was a glass jar in the middle of it, like some kind of demented altar. It seemed like there were a bunch of vibrating black beads in there? No, not beads-
"Oh shit!" You exclaimed and took a step back. The jar was full of spiders, alive, spiders. They crawled all over themselves, trying to escape their makeshift prison. Long, needle-like legs poked and prodded each other while the helpless creatures tried and failed to climb out.
"Gross," You whispered into the quiet room, "Who trapped you guys in here?"
The crawling intensified, the thimble limbs tearing from little black bodies as they intensified their movements. The glass became pitch black as the little predators desperately tried to evade suffocation.
Jesus Christ you need to see that therapist.
You walked around the house, trying to get as far away from it as possible in order to make sure the spiders didn't make a home in the kitchen cupboards. Your mom would NOT be happy if she was to discover the pantry was full of cobwebs. The jar felt heavy and had a film all around it. You made a note to wash your hands the second you were done.
"Whatcha got there, neighbor?" A voice called out from you above.
Looking up, you saw a man, probably around the same age as you, with long tangled brown hair and fingers covered in silver rings. A black Metallica shirt rippled in the wind. He stood up on the makeshift metal stairs at the back of the house. The guy must have been the neighbor on the other side of the wall.
"Who wants to know?" You called back, arching a brow.
"Eddie Munson!" He responded, a smile pulling at his lips.
"I'm releasing a bunch of spiders into the woods!" You shared back. You almost didn't share with him, worried about being judged like you would have been back home, but judging by his style, Eddie didn't seem like the type to recoil. In fact, the metal head seemed friendly enough…based on the two seconds that you knew him for.
"Metal!" He called back, "Come on up here when you're done!"
Smiling to yourself, you turned your attention back to the task at hand, trying to find the right tree to dump the tiny creatures onto.
You tossed and turned, hot one moment and cold the next. The atmosphere of the house was worse at night, where every shadow that dragged across the walls seemed to come alive. It didn't help that Eddie had told you it was nicknamed the "Murder House."
You didn't know what to think when you had climbed up the stairs to Eddie's front door, but what you certainly hadn't expected was three more people inside his place, especially since two of them were no older than thirteen.
The tiny apartment reeked of weed and week old pizza. The place was a mess, cigarette smoke was thick enough that you could cut it with a knife, old dishes were stacked as high as mountains in the sink, and almost empty beer cans were littered around.
The two middle schoolers had introduced themselves. The one with curly hair and no teeth, who you had found absolutely adorable, was named Dustin. As it turned out, he was your other neighbor, living in the basement portion of the home with his mother and cat. The other child, with a camouflage bandana tied around his head and what seemed to be a wrist rocket, was Dustin's friend, Lucas. The only other adult in the room, besides Eddie and yourself, was a shaggy haired boy named Jonathan, who, unlike the others, did not greet you with much enthusiasm.
"So you're the newest member of the Murder House!" Eddie had proclaimed, giving you a pat on the back, "I didn't think Mrs. Byers was gonna be able to sell it."
"Murder House?" You had asked, looking at him for further explanation.
"Like a shit ton of people died in here," Dustin blurted out, "And a bunch went missing too-"
Jonathan let out an uncomfortable cough as his tired eyes met yours. He shuffled past you, almost hitting you on his way through the door before grumbling out a simple "Thanks" to Eddie.
"You idiot," Lucas sighed and hit Dustin's arm when the brunette had left.
"OW!" The curly-haired boy cried out, rubbing his arm.
"Ignore them," Eddie had said, "Jonathan's little brother went missing last year. He's real…sensitive about it. Theory is he drowned in the lake nearby."
"Well that's a bunch of bullshit!" Lucas interrupted, "Cops barely investigated."
"Which is why we wanted to ask Jonathan about it," Dustin finished for him.
"Yeah except you assholes were interrupting a business transaction," Eddie shot back, before ushering them out of his apartment, "Now fuck off."
The metal head turned to you, "I happen to provide Byers with a little something to help him get through the day. I could give you some too! I'll even give you the 'Welcome to the Death House' discount!"
You had smiled then and made your way to the exit, telling the metalhead that you would certainly think about it, before walking down the stairs and walking right back to the front door to your side.
The house, that hadn't made the best impression originally, now seemed to really be unwelcoming. Its presence loomed over you, watching every little twitch you made, as if waiting for the right moment to pounce.
Just how many people died here exactly?
The question had lingered the rest of the day, always in the back of your mind, reappearing whenever the world went silent for more than a few seconds.
That leads you to now, unable to sleep in the dark, eerie room that you now inhabited. The moon was high in the sky, allowing for a faint glow to glisten from the window. The light, however, did nothing to quell the uneasy sense of dread that was beginning to make its way up your throat.
It almost felt as if you were being watched.
No, that's crazy. Eddie, the fucking asshole, just filled your head up with scary stories and now you're stuck in this freaky-ass house all because of a stupid mistake you had made. You're just psyching yourself out.
'I'm fine, I'm safe, I'm happy," You repeated over and over again in your head, ''I'm fine, I'm safe, I'm happy.'
Eventually the mantra began to soothe you to sleep. Your body, once tense, has gradually begun to relax and sink into your mattress. The peaceful, fluid sensation of falling asleep began to take over. Every sound and pitter-patter was now calm. Every little squeak was tiny. Every tick from the old clock was welcome.
Wait…..
Stop.
You didn't own a clock.
The ticking grew louder as your eyes shot open. Your body sprang to sit up.
Tick…tick…tick…tick…
The sound was becoming louder, filling your ears and practically vibrating your whole body. It felt wrong, almost suffocating. Your heart began to beat faster and faster until it was fully racing. The noise became loud enough to drown out your own rushing blood, silencing any chance to alert your mother next door.
'What the actual fuck is going on?!' You thought to yourself.
Right when the clock chimed with a large BOOM, everything went black.
There was nothing, for a brief moment, until a little buzz that started in the back of your brain quietly drifted forward, filling your head with a low, sedative-like hum.
When you came to, you weren't in your bedroom anymore. Well, that was untrue. You were in your bedroom, but it wasn't how you had left it.
The shabby, temporary curtains you had originally put up before dinner were now replaced with fine, expensive looking light blue drapes. The muted wooden floorboards were now shiny and freshly polished. Your bed, which had consisted of one lumpy pillow and two thin blankets, was now covered in multiple, cloud-like pillows and thick dusty-rose blankets. Golden star garlands made of paper hung around the dark wood bedframe, giving the room a whimsical feeling. The walls, once chipped and cracked, shined as if a fresh coat of paint had been applied.
When you got up and out of the soft bed, you noticed how the lamps glowed more fervently, as if they were greeting you now that you had woken up.
You looked around, confused and slightly put-off. What the HELL was in Eddie's weed? The idiot smoked so much you must have gotten a contact high. You theorized that whatever it was laced with must have been causing some type of hallucination.
Speaking of, the skunky smell that seemed to cling to everything earlier that day was completely gone. Instead, it was replaced with the sweet smell of…wait was that food?
You slowly began to walk out of your…bedroom? The hallway was in a similar state to the room you just exited. Rich wallpaper and wood covered the walls. The lights glowed like fireflies whenever you got close enough. When you turned to look down the hall, the gross brick wall that had once separated apartments was missing, allowing you to see a cleaner version of what would be Eddie's apartment.
A record scratched in a room downstairs, and a distant melody began to play, beckoning you closer. You followed downstairs, this time the staircase didn't groan beneath you. In fact, unlike the one at your new home, it had a deep red carpet that extended all the way to the hallway floor.
That's when you saw it, right at the foot of the staircase against the wall stood a massive antique grandfather clock. Its sizable presence demanded attention as it softly ticked.
The smell of food was stronger down here, and the faint sound of rustling in the kitchen enticed you to explore. A presence in your chest began to command you closer, growing stronger as you passed by the massive archway that opened to an absolutely breathtaking dining room. The other version, your version, had been nothing but a dusty room full of boxes and boarded up windows when you had arrived.
Slowly opening the kitchen door, you were greeted by the image of a man in a retro brown vest and dress pants standing in the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, allowing you to glimpse at his strong forearms.
He turned to you when you walked in, his blue eyes lighting up when spotting you in the doorway.
Holy fucking shit he was so hot-
"Hello sleepyhead," He beamed at you, "Are you hungry?"
"Hello?" You stood there, unable to figure out what to say, "Um- who are you?"
"My name is Mr. Whatsit," He replied, leaning against the kitchen counter "But you can call me Henry ."
"Right…" You replied, "Where-uh, exactly am I?"
"You're home," He smiled and walked slowly up to you, "My home, to be exact."
With Henry now only being a few steps away from you, it was easier to get a better look at him. Soft blonde curls seemed to be slicked into some type of 50s hairdo while round brown glasses framed his face. He radiated a gentle and kind demeanor, albeit a bit stiff.
"I don't understand…" You said softly, taking a step back.
"Are you hungry?" Henry asked you, ignoring your comment, "I find that a full stomach always settles the mind."
The meal in front of you was nothing short of lavish, leagues ahead of the crappy canned soup your mom had warmed up for dinner a few hours prior. It was weird, you could have sworn the table had been clear when you passed by the room. Big fluffy pancakes were stacked as high as a mountain while sticky syrup dripped down them. There were jammy eggs and fat pieces of bacon, not to mention just about every fruit you could imagine. There was even a mug of hot chocolate with the richest whipped cream you had ever tasted.
Your plate was filled with a little bit of everything. The syrup was already beginning to mingle with the bacon and raspberries, but you didn't mind. It all tasted amazing anyways.
Henry 's plate was clean, borderline sparkling. He simply sat and watched you take in the meal.
You avoided his gaze, feeling hesitant to meet his eyes. You opted instead to look out the window and see if the outside could give you any clue to where exactly you were. The night sky was darker here, like a black abyss, yet it allowed the stars to greatly contrast against it. They twinkled brightly, glittering in the night sky like little tiny diamonds.
"So," You started, placing the fork you had been holding down and looking back at Henry, "Is this real?"
"Real?" The blonde tilted his head, "Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean- I guess.." A million questions were racing through your head, unable to choose which one to ask first, "Am I dreaming?"
"Do you think you are?" He replied softly.
You looked around again. It all seemed real enough. None of what you had seen so far had that fuzzy, disorienting feeling that you got from sleep. The feeling of metal utensils was too lifelike to ignore and the food you ate filled your stomach fully.
"No…yes?" You responded, "How did I even get here?"
"I sensed you…sensed your pain specifically," Henry placed his cold hand gently on top of yours, sending a slight jolt through you, "It cried out, waiting for someone to answer."
You removed your hand from under his, the sudden grip of unease starting to constrict your throat. Old emotions from the past that had been pushed down were being brought to the surface by a complete stranger that randomly appeared.
"How do you know about that?" You asked him, borderline creeped out.
He ignored your question, bringing his hand back to his side before adding, "It wasn't your fault. You cannot pay for the sins of your parents."
Hot shame flushed in your cheeks as previous embarrassment burned its way up your spine. The move here was to escape the past. Yet, the man before you seemed to have the audacity to bring it up.
"I think I'd like to go home now," You whispered, trying in vain to stop your voice from cracking and making a move to get up from the table.
A firm grip wrapped around your wrist within a millisecond, stopping you from getting away.
"I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," Henry said, "I merely thought you could use a companion, someone who you could relate to."
"It's fine," You sighed and sat back down, his hand still gripping onto you, "I just…it's bullshit from the past that I'm not ready to talk about."
Blue eyes twinkle, taking in the words you gave, observing every slight uncomfortable twitch. He watched like a scientist scrutinizing data, looking for any little detail that could give away a new discovery.
"You know, this place was created to be an escape.." The man beside you changed the subject, "You are welcome here anytime. There are many incredible rooms in this house to explore."
"Yeah?" You arched a brow, "Like what?"
"Come," He invited, moving from his seat at the head of the table and extending his hand to you.
His offer was tempting, and had you been in the right state of mind you would have thought twice, but the handsome man in front of you had acknowledged and accepted a part of you that had been shunned and neglected for a long time. The sweet feeling of your happiness being a top priority had lingered in your mind, softening any previous hesitations as quickly as they had been created.
It’s just a dream…might as well enjoy it.
Smiling, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you to the next room.
Loud, heavy metal music woke you up the next morning, muffled by the walls. The beautiful home you had been in was gone, faded with the night as the morning began to rise. Groaning, you slowly got out of bed, making your way to the bathroom filled with stained tiles and bitter drafts.
Last night felt so real that it was almost a shock to open your eyes.
Henry had shown you his study. It was smaller than the other rooms, more personal. An opulent, wooden desk sat in the middle, carved with detailed patterns that ran along the side. It was incredibly neat. There wasn't one single pen or paper out of place and it had become clear that the owner of this house was a perfectionist.
Behind the desk sat a large bookcase, filled to the brim with leather bound books. When Henry ushered you closer to it, you realized that they were all embroidered with gold thread that sparkled like the sun.
"Pick one out," He looked at you expectantly.
Walking up to the bookcase, you studied each and every spine. Each book was a different color, the leather dyed a vibrant shade. Your eyes passed over Jane Eyre, 1984, Picture of Dorian Gray, Crime and Punishment, and a variety of others, finally stopping on Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
Memories from childhood summers spent in the library, hidden away from judgmental eyes and criticizing remarks flashed through your head. Books of other worlds had become a comfort, allowing your young mind to venture to places where you could be free from it all, even if it was only a few hours.
"This one," You grabbed it, almost dropping the novel from how heavy it was. Henry had come up from behind you to help you move it to the desk, gently placing it down before backing up a step.
"Open it to any page," He had told you.
You moved towards the massive book, stopping just a few inches away to open it. Both of your hands had been required to heave the novel open.
WHOOSH
A tiny croquet ball flew through the room, narrowly missing your head before hitting the wall. Letting out a shriek as you ducked down, you noticed that the fallen ball was not in fact a ball but a…hedgehog?
"Is-is that a-?" You began before being pulled up by Henry and turned toward the disregarded book.
Upon taking a second glance, it was clear that the tiny hedgehog had in fact come straight from the pages of the book, where small flamingos used as mallets flopped around and little card soldiers tried to battle one another.
With wide eyes you looked over at the man beside you, "How is this possible?"
"Like I said," He smiled at you, "this place is an escape. Every room in this house is special. My home is capable of fulfilling your wildest imagination."
You looked back at the open book, opting to flip to another random page. This time, a fat caterpillar peered back up at you, blowing different shapes from thick smoke that floated all the way to the ceiling, spelling out-
Who….
…Are…
……You?
"Do they all do that?" You beamed at Henry. Fingers already itched to turn to the next page.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" He asked back.
The rest of the night had been spent going through each and every book, looking through each page and allowing the words to literally come to life. It wasn't until one of the tiny cannons from a chapter in War and Peace hit Henry 's arm did you both decide to finish.
The blonde had escorted you back to your room, stopping at the doorway to bid you goodnight.
"I do hope you come back soon," He had stated, grabbing your hand to give it a squeeze, "You are very welcome here."
And from there you had fallen asleep, now back in your shitty new house with a neighbor next door who clearly did not care about how loud his music blared.
All of the extraordinary aspects of the night before were gone, leaving behind a slight disappointing ache in your chest. A note left on the kitchen counter had told you that your mom would be out for the majority of the day, running errands for the house, leaving you up to your own devices.
The day passed rather slowly, with unpacking and cleaning eating up the time. But when you inevitably got tired, you had spent two hours channel flipping and growing more and more agitated at how bad the service actually was. It wasn't until almost four that you decided to take a walk outside.
Mud stuck to the bottom of your boots, indicating that it had stormed the night before. Across the front porch was a rusty playground. If it had any colors before, they had surely chipped away with the weather. In fact, the area was one wind blow away from fully collapsing.
Making your way towards it, you were able to spot a figure a few meters away. Tangled brown hair and a leather jacket clued you into who it was pretty quickly. You called Eddie's name out and the metal head had turned in your direction and motioned for you to join him.
"So, how was your first night?" He had asked, an unlit cigarette in his mouth and an old lighter in his hand, "Hear any ghosts?"
"No," You had responded, giving a nod of thanks to him when he lit yours, "So what's the story with that anyways?"
"Aw man its totally fucked up," Eddie had let out a sigh, finally lighting up his cig and taking a hit, "So like, basically a while ago this family buys the land and builds the house on top of it. There's a man, a wife, and their two kids, yeah? Well all of the sudden the dad claims he and his family are experiencing all this shit: dead animals, things moving on their own, nightmares- you know text book haunting. Well, the guy goes crazy and kills his entire family, or at least that's what they think."
"What do you mean?" You asked him, the wind beginning to pick up and blow cold air straight through your jacket, causing goosebumps to run up your arms.
"Well the one kid was never found," The rocker took another drag and blew smoke before adding, "Their son. Ever since then kids seem to go missing around this area every couple of years. Last year it was the Byers kid who went missing, really messed with the mom…Dustin too."
"I don't understand why the town doesn't demolish the place if so many people were last seen here," You said out loud, looking over to the foreboding building.
"No proof," Eddie replied smoothly, "They searched the entire place, surrounding areas too. Everyone just went 'poof'"
Poof seemed a bit elementary for what was going on. If the place wasn't creepy enough as it is, now you had to worry about randomly disappearing?
"So..that guy yesterday, Jonathan, what does he think?" You probed, wondering vaguely if you were beginning to be too nosy, "about his brother?"
"I don't know.." Eddie looked down at his feet, "I think he knows his brother is gone, but Mrs. Byers is holding out hope he's just lost."
"What do you think?" You asked him.
"Nothing about the situation feels right," Brown eyes found yours, looking intently, "The place it…its different from the rest of the town. There's something about it. Almost..almost like it's cursed."
The mushy potatoes were cold, the butter and oils that had originally cooked them separated on the chipped plate. Absently, your fork picked at them, pushing them around the dish while your stomach gnawed at itself.
"Yo-you shouldn't play with your food," Your mom slurred, glass of liquor in her hand, "Bad manners."
Some things never change, even during fresh starts.
"Don't give me that look," She hiccuped, "As judgy, sooo judgy like the others."
Memories flashed then, moments from childhood dripping in sadness and pain. Sneers echoed in your mind as another headache began to form.
Whore's child.
Stay away from her, you could catch something.
End up just like her mama.
You dropped your fork onto the plate before pushing out of the hard plastic chair to put it in the sink.
"My daughter's a tea-tollerrrrr!" You mom cackled from the stained dinner table, "Tea-tollllerrrrr!"
You slammed your bedroom door closed, trying to keep the sound of her slurring as muffled as possible.
You woke up in the fanciful bedroom again. Still the same from the night before, the place felt as though you had never left. This time, you found Henry in the drawing room, seated at a table with a chess board in front of him.
"Welcome back," The blonde smiled at you as you walked in, "Care to play?"
"I'm dreaming of this place again?" You asked him.
"I thought we established that this is much more than that," The man replied smoothly, "Don't tell me you already forgot?"
"No I just.." You shook your head slightly, "Forget it, let's play."
You quietly sat and moved the chair to sit, knees brushing against his under the table. The chess board was engraved with mother of pearl shaped like stars and constellations. Each little chess piece was incredibly detailed to the point where you could see the tiniest specifics in the faces.
He allowed you to make the opening move, silently observing how you played the game. A comfortable silence followed, with only the quiet clack of the chess pieces meeting the board.
"My mother and I did not always get along," Henry said after a while, looking back at you, "As I know it is the same with yours."
You looked up at him, stopping yourself from placing one of your knights on the board.
"I told you I didn't want to talk about the past," You replied, placing your piece down, watching as his long fingers picked up one of the black pawns to make his play.
"This isn't in the past though, is it?" The blonde stated matter-of-factly, "It still affects you, else you wouldn't be here, your soul wouldn't cry out for reprieve every night."
You thought of the past few months, how much worse the animosity from your previous home had become to prompt the move, how your mother had lost her job and had to take out of your already meager college fund to be able to afford the new place.
"What she did wasn't your fault," The man across from you continued, "And yet they treated you as if it was."
His plays were brutal, one by one your chess pieces were taken off the board.
"Humans tend to pick on those they deem different," Henry told you, "Their insecurity is what breeds their contempt."
You looked down, your king was in check.
"What's worse, I found, is the total weakness they seem to have," He plucked your king from you, "Your mother, too occupied with herself, allowed them to hurt you. My mother did the same. Their selfishness blinded them from the needs of their children."
"You don't know my mother," You glared at him, "Don't talk about her."
"I know that she was intimate with the wrong man, resulting in you," He replied, "I know she chose to keep your paternity a secret for years, allowing for others to speculate and torment you. I know that when it was revealed to be an already married man six months ago- incredibly affluent, might I add- that he used his power to chase you both out of the town."
You sat there, looking at him as the pain from your past ate away at your stomach, slowly crawling its way up your throat until it felt like you were asphyxiating on your own misery.
"Stop," You whispered, begging with your eyes for him to stop prying, "My mom did her best. She did everything she could."
He stood, walking around the table and crouching down beside you. He gently grabbed your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze in an offering of comfort.
"She didn't protect you," He whispered, "My mother didn't either. The sooner you confront that the better you can begin to move on."
A cold hand brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized had fallen.
The sting from past altercations and ostracization seemed to hurt a little less as he guided you to stand, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a firm hug. While his body was as cold as his hands, the embrace still felt like a promise of warmth and acknowledgement.
You silently cried into his chest, clutching onto him like you used to do with your pillows. This time, however, you felt seen. Every time you had tried to talk to your mother in the past, she had shut you down, claiming it was "too painful" to relive for her and that you "weren't ready" to hear about it. Henry, however, was giving you something you hadn't realized you had been craving: actual connection.
He stepped out of the embrace, moving behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder to direct you to the kitchen.
"Come, have some tea," He had said to you, "Afterwards we can visit the garden."
Within a day after your second visit with Henry, you had gotten into a massive argument with your mother. It had started off small, with you quietly walking into the kitchen while she was drinking her morning coffee.
“I got that paint at the store,” She told you before, letting out a quick, “Christ my head hurts.”
She rubbed at her temples, letting out a sigh before slowly grabbing her mug to take another sip and taking a look at you.
“What? You don’t want it?”
“No, it's great,” You told her, grabbing a bruised banana to peel it.
“Doesn’t sound great,” She replied before giving you a pointed look.
“It's nothing, mom,” You told her, “Really, it's nothing.”
“Well, I just went to the trouble of lugging the cans up the front stairs,” She snarked, “Least you could do was act grateful.”
“I didn’t do anything!” You shrugged at her.
“Well then what’s the problem?” She asked you, “You’ve had a bad attitude ever since we moved here.”
You quietly ate your banana, making a point to ignore her. It wasn’t worth the trouble to get into it with her, at least not when she was in this state.
“Hey! Answer me when I talk to you!”
“Why?” You murmured under your breath before throwing the fruit into the overpiled garbage can, “You always ignore me.”
“Excuse me?” Her brows furrowed, “What was that?”
"We can't keep tip-toeing around it," You groaned, "Everytime I try to talk to you, you shut it down."
"I just don't understand why you want to keep bringing up the past," She had sighed and placed the chipped mug down, "It's done and over with. It's time to move on."
"Mom," You deadpanned, "Everything is gone: our old lives, my college fund- hell, any possibility of understanding my own dad! How can you act as if that isn't going to affect me?"
"Well it was never supposed to come out," She had snipped back, "But someone just had to snoop, didn't she?"
It all escalated from there. How dare she?! She was the dumbass who fucked a married man, not you.
"I had every right to know who my dad was!" You had immediately shot back.
"You didn't need to go and blow up our lives without consulting me first!" Your mom's voice began to raise, "Look what happened! You never think things through!"
“How could I? You always decide before I can even think!” You argued back, “I didn’t even wanna paint my fucking room yellow!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that! I am your mother!”
Within minutes the house was filled with angry shouts. Not even Eddie's loud music was able to drown out the sound. It came to a head when you stormed out of the front door, claiming that your mother was a-
"Selfish bitch!"
The rest of the week you had avoided each other, staying in your respective bedrooms and only coming out when necessary. You had spent the week unpacking, going into town to buy books, and visiting the community college to enroll for the summer semester. On the way, you had also stopped by the record store, finding that they were still in fact looking for new employees and set up an interview for the following week.
The visits to Henry 's home became a nightly ritual. The second your head hit the pillow you would wake up in the whimsical, other world version of your bedroom before quickly getting up to find out where your new friend was.
That was another thing.
Henry became your first true friend. Sure he seemed awkward and a little socially inept, but he listened to your complaints and always offered a much needed distraction when your mother's drinking increased. You had never had that before. The residents from the town you were from hardly interacted with you. You were seen as a blight, a baby born out of wedlock to a whore. The good people looked down at you, considering your presence a sin that they refused to acknowledge, and this was even before you knew about your paternity. Henry didn't do that. He always treated you with the patience of a gentleman.
Bloody noses and headaches also became more frequent, but they were easy to forget when the late nights were spent exploring the borderline fairytale that was Henry 's home. He had every record you could imagine, books that literally came to life, and board games that made their moves on their own without needing your hand to push them. Even the tiles in the bathrooms could move into different shapes on a whim, creating whole artworks that belonged in museums.
The garden was by far your favorite, however. There were great pink flowers that glowed from within, giant bushes full of sweet berries, and even snap-dragons that came to life on their own. There was even a miniature fountain that would spray water whenever you walked near it. The garden was also home to the only other living creatures that you had seen besides Henry; fireflies. The bright little bugs flickered on and off throughout the garden, sometimes landing on your nose and tickling it.
Henry was right, this place really was an escape.
But it wasn't all paradise.
The blonde had guided you to the porch one night, having you sit on the thick swing that was covered in lush, green ivy.
"There is something you need to know," He had told you, pointing to the woods that had encircled the house, "This place, while safe, is surrounded by hidden dangers."
"Hidden dangers?" You had questioned, quirking a brow at the man beside you.
"The woods are treacherous," He explained, "They are filled with bloodthirsty monsters that you must avoid at all costs."
"Monsters?" You had said, "Are you being serious?"
"Have I ever lied to you?" He had placed a hand on your knee, its coldness had seeped through your pajama pants, "You are safe here, I promise, as long as you stay on the house's property."
You promised him that you would stay in the vicinity of the bright blue home, even if you were a bit skeptical. The whole thing sounded a bit far-fetched, but even if these were really life-like dreams, you did not want to risk running into the creatures he had described.
Joyce Byers was here. She had pulled up in her beat up car earlier, supposedly to drop off extra keys and paperwork for you mom. You eyed her through the window, noticing how her eyes lingered uneasily on the home.
"Took her forever to sell the house," Eddie had told you one day after you visited again, finally taking him up on his offer, "No one wants to own property with so much baggage."
The place was probably a reminder of her younger son, no wonder she sold it so cheap.
You both locked eyes with one another. Worry and pain was written in the middle aged woman's bloodshot brown eyes, almost as if she was afraid of you.
No.
Those eyes held a warning, a message to watch out; for what, you could not guess.
The subtle tickle on your upper lip had clued you into another bloody nose.
Henry was acting strange. Well…stranger than usual. He was observing you more intensely, jaw clenching every time you would make eye contact with him. He seemed more fidgety, hands clenching and unclenching every few minutes, as if there was something he wanted to reach out and snatch.
You assumed that he was still embarrassed, as a few nights ago he had accidently walked in on you undressing to take a bath. You had let out a startled shriek and went to cover your already exposed chest while he had stood there dumbly, as if unsure how to react.
Ever since then, he had avoided all physical contact. Sure, he was still always around, waiting for you to turn your attention to him for conversation or to ask about one of the rooms in the house, but he kept his distance. It was borderline starting to alarm you.
It finally came to a head after a few days, when the constant feeling of his eyes on you had irritated you enough to snap at the blonde.
"What is up with you?" You turned to him, annoyance burning in your eyes.
He blinked at you, surprised by your sudden outburst, "Whatever do you mean?"
"You are acting stranger than usual," You walked up to him, stopping just a few inches away "And you never hang out with me anymore."
"I've been here with you every day," He replied, brows furrowing.
"That's not what I mean," You crossed your arms, "You just stand there like my shadow or something. Is this because you walked in on me? You know it's really not that big a deal, you don't have to be embarrassed-"
"I'm not embarrassed," He interrupted you, "I've never experienced embarrassment."
"Oh really?" You arched a brow, "Liar."
"Excuse me?"
"I called you a liar," You challenged, "You practically explode every time I catch you staring at me."
"No I don-"
"Yes, you do!" You huffed, shifting slightly on your legs, "What- was it your first time seeing a girl naked?"
The man before you went silent at that, and you suddenly realized that maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. If he wasn't embarrassed before, he sure as hell was now.
"I'm sorry," You said quickly, "I just miss my friend. I won't bug you about it anymore."
You turned to leave, cheeks practically on fire. Perhaps it was time to cut the visit short and get back to your bedroom. Maybe the next night you would be able to scrounge up a better apology, or maybe Henry would pretend like nothing happened and you both could put it in the past.
You were in such a rush to get back up the stairs and shut yourself up in the bedroom that you hadn't noticed the blonde trailing behind you, already sensing what you were trying to do. Before you could fully shut the door, his pale hand stopped it in its tracks, gently opening it with a high pitched creaaaaaak.
He stood in the doorway, only a few inches from you, yet refused to cross. If you had shifted forward by just half an inch, your body would brush against his. His eyes, which usually held a polite neutrality in them, were now stormy and upset.
"Yes," He stated simply.
"What?"
"Yes, you are the first girl I've seen…" He looked uncomfortable, hesitating before continuing, "Naked."
"Oh."
You both stood there in silence. The awkwardness in the air was thick enough to choke on. The entire house had become suffocating, walls trapping you inside with the man right in front of you, windows shut tightly for fear of secrets whisking away.
"Have you ever seen a man exposed before?" The man in front of you broke the silence.
Jesus Christ.
You started giggling, borderline laughing, and had to slam a hand over your mouth in an attempt to compose yourself, much to the confusion of Henry .
"I'm sorry it's just-" You snickered, "You said it so formally and it's just so-"
You trailed off, a smile still pulling at your lips.
"Yeah," You answered softly, recalling past memories of curious hands and explicit movies, "I've seen a few naked men…from school and you know- TV and whatever."
He made a face, brows scrunching as if he ate something bad, "What kind of school did you attend?"
You started to giggle once more. Oh…he was so helpless.
It was your turn to observe. Looking over his face, you noticed the distinct clenching of his jaw that had become a constant over the past few days. You also saw how his eyes had begun to soften into something you didn't quite recognize. The memory of when you first met him replayed in your head, how pretty you had thought he looked before. You glanced down at his plush pink lips before quickly going back to eye contact.
You wouldn't mind kissing him
"Henry …" You started, "If you want to….you can see me again."
"I see you every night."
"Naked, genius," You said sarcastically.
"Oh.." He blinked again.
His carefully poised demeanor had cracked slightly, pupils blowing wide until the ice blue was almost completely swallowed by black.
"Yes, I would like that," Henry said, seemingly emotionless, if the slight twitch in his hands hadn't given his demeanor away.
For all his formality and stiffness, he sure was cute. You walked closer and grabbed his hand, pulling the flushed blonde closer to your bed. You gently plopped him down and pushed his legs apart with your leg, moving to stand in between them. You could feel his shallow breath against your sternum, his eyes looking up at you expectantly.
"Could…could you unbutton my shirt?" You asked him. Clammy hands immediately shot up to your collar, tweaking round buttons and popping each one, the slight movement making its way down to your lower stomach. You shrugged off your pajama top. Blue eyes finally left your face and sparkled when they saw your bare chest. Cold fingers brushed against your stomach, causing you to jerk away.
"Are you alright?" Henry looked at you concerned.
"Yeah, sorry!" You smiled shyly, "I'm just tickilish."
"Tickilish?" Her blonde arched his brow, "I didn't know that people actually could be."
"Uh yeah.." You slightly clocked your head to the side, confused. "Everyone is ticklish somewhere."
"Not me," He responded as he slowly began to trace his fingers up your stomach, stopping each time your breath swallowed slightly, "Let me kiss you."
You moved to plop down right next to him, untangling yourself from his arms. Angling your body slightly, one of your legs was bent on top of the duvet. He turned to face you as well. Your hand came up to his face, grabbing his dorky glasses and folding them up. Blood rushed towards your cheeks, your face becoming more rosy-red by the second.
His face leaned closer to yours, but a split second halt in movement left his plush lips only centimeters away. He had paused, not fully allowing himself to close the distance. No matter, you did it yourself, crashing your lips against him. His lips were cool, like the rest of his body, but were slightly warming under your body heat.
A hand came up to grab his shoulder, giving it a squeeze while he was wrapped around your back, pulling your body as close as he could. A low moan escaped you, slightly muffled, when Henry lightly bit your lip.
Pink lips made their way down your neck, stopping to suck on sweet spots that made you shudder. Your other hand made its way into his hair, messing it up from its usually perfect style.
A slight tug near your waist brought you back. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was bunched around the sleep shorts you were wearing.
"No fair, you're still totally covered."
The blonde ignored your complaint, grabbing your hips and slanting them in order to push the last article of clothing away, fully pulling you against him once you were completely exposed. Cold hands wandered with conviction this time, tracing skin where lips had left off. Kisses became harder, leaving irritated red marks wherever they left.
A small push had you on your back, the duvet cushioning you while strong hands grabbed the meat of your thighs, pulling you right against him. The friction of the rough material of his pants against your soft skin caused you to let out another low moan, grabbing the man to bring him even closer.
One of his hands left your skin to work on his belt, loosening the leather before pulling it away and starting to unzip his pants.
"Wait-hold on," You stopped him, placing your hand over his, "I'm not ready yet."
He furrowed his brows in confusion, not totally understanding what you had meant until you took his hands and maneuvered his two fingers into your mouth. You felt the hard press of him jolt against your thigh as you started to suck them.
Henry, for all his inexperience, seemed to get the gist when you popped his fingers out of your mouth and pushed them down between your legs. Long fingers gently traced around your entrance, exploring slightly before slowly pushing in. A soft sigh escapes you, one that does not go unnoticed.
The end of his palm found your clit, firmly grinding against it while fingers curled upwards, sending a warm tingle that washed through your entire body. Muscles that had once been stiff softened while your head fully tipped back to hit the bed.
As the blonde above you gained more and more confidence, his lips went back to exploring, sucking salty skin and nipping at spots that made you cry out. Pressure built fast, faster than you had expected, and within a few minutes you had fallen apart, soaking Henry's hand.
You felt intoxicated, practically drunk off of him while his tongue soothed another bite mark. Cantering your hips slightly upward, you were able to slightly grind against Henry, causing him to stutter slightly and choke out a groan. While he was distracted, you pushed upwards, flipping the two of you and straddling him onto the plush bed.
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," You cooed down at him.
You gave him the same treatment as he did, leaving marks on his neck while your fingers made quick work of his vest, allowing him to sit up slightly to help get it off. His red tie came next, giving in easily when you yanked at it. Then came his white shirt, only getting a few buttons down before grabbing at his hair to jerk his head away and give you more room.
Trailing your free hand down between your bodies, you made quick work to finish where he left off, completely popping the rest of his pant buttons off. He was harder than before now, stiff as a board against your hand. For a man who was always cold, this part of him was completely hot.
Henry hissed slightly as you took him out, slightly lifting his hips up while you have a few experimental tugs.
"Fuck," The blonde breathed out, so quiet that had you not been so close, you wouldn't have heard him swear.
Your hand left his soft hair to hold onto his shoulder for support, lining yourself up with him before slowly pushing down. The sting from the stretch had you sighing, head falling onto Henry's upper chest. He was bigger than you had expected, filling all the right spots and hitting parts that made you want to scream. He, for a man who put on such a stoic front, was totally cracking. Breath hitched while small moans left his plump lips. Glancing up at him, you saw his blue eyes pinch shut while you squeezed around him.
You sat back up, keeping the man underneath you down with a simple hand on his chest. Slowly, you started to move against him, grinding down while rocking back and forth against him. Soft little gasps escaped you while sparks of pleasure began to build.
Solid hands shot up to grip around your hips, dragging you faster than you would have liked. The new speed, one that Henry preferred, had you stimulated too quickly, borderline on the edge from pleasure to pain.
"W-wait, slow down!" You cried out.
Henry's cold hand wrapped around your neck. The gentle press against your throat had you seeing stars. The build-up was rapid, faster than usual. Within a few minutes, the tingling sensation had completely engulfed your hot skin, crashing against you in wave after wave.
You clamped down around the blonde in a vice-like grip, locked in place and refusing to move so much an inch. A moan, much louder than before, left you.
Everything went quiet for a moment, the type of quiet that is only present in the heavy, passive transition from awakeness to sleep. Everything felt out-of-world, like you could open your eyes and see yourself from outside your body.
A kiss in the corner of your mouth brought you back, another one on your lower jaw had you opening your eyes. Henry had sat up, his hand still around your throat while the other had slinked its way around your waist, somehow pulling you closer than you already were.
The point between your legs caught against the rough material of his pants, causing you to startle from the overstimulation. You looked at the blonde through glassy eyes, realizing that he was, still in fact, very much rigid inside you. His blue eyes twinkled back at you, before his mouth formed one very simple word:
"Again."
You took in a sharp breath when he started to move his hips underneath you. The constant rub of the delicate skin on your thighs against the tweed material caused them to become blotchy and irritated. This sensation was what you latched onto, trying to slow down the third orgasm that was already beginning to form.
"Come back," His fingers locked against your jaw while he kissed your cheek, "Let it happen."
A low groan left you as your face screwed up in pleasure, fully submitting to the fact that you were, in fact, going to cum for a third time.
Your head was thrown back at the sensation of him continuing to move inside you.
"Shit!" You cried out, once again gripping onto him again.
This time he came, heat shooting deep into you. A moan left him, hair wet and clinging to his forehead from sweat. Henry fell back against the bed, pulling you down with him, still connected.
A sudden giggle left you, bubbling up from within your chest. Blue eyes looking over your face, taking in its strung out and sticky appearance.
"For someone who's never fucked before you sure are good at it."
Your compliment was thanked with a quick peck on the top of your head, a small smile forming on the blonde's lips.
You both laid there for a while, waiting for heart rates and breathing to slow down. Once hard hands now traced gentle patterns on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your head was buried into his neck, pressing small kisses into it while your arms clung to his shoulders.
Henry was the first to break the silence.
"I too understand what it is like to be ostracized by others."
You stopped, sitting up on your elbows to fully turn your attention onto him.
"I remember the cruelty when I was younger, shunned for not fitting into their perfect picture" He stared up at the ceiling, the detached mask once again appearing.
"You..you once said your mom didn't protect you," You ventured, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"You wish to hear about it?" He asked you.
"Only if you want to," You responded truthfully, "And if it would help you.”
Blue eyes left their upwards stare, landing on your face instead, "How very kind of you."
There was a pregnant pause before he opened his mouth once more.
"My mother prioritized outward appearance. Not just in making herself look presentable, but making us, her family, seem respectable."
A hand pushed you back down, closer to the cooling body beneath you.
"You could say she and I did not exactly see eye to eye. She found me….difficult, to say the least, a snag in her picture perfect world. When others would deliberately go out of their way to harm me, she refused to be my security."
"I'm so sorry Henry," You brought your hand down to his to embrace it.
"Why are you sorry?" He genuinely sounded perplexed, "You had nothing to do with it."
"Still, you didn't deserve it," You told him, "You deserved to have a good relationship with her, and she didn't provide that."
"It doesn't matter," He whispered, "I found human emotion too fickle for my liking."
His bluntness puzzled you, yet you chalked it up to the environment he had grown up in.
"What about me?" You asked him, "Am I fickle?"
"A bit at first, before you trusted me," Henry responded, "But that was to be expected."
"What about now?"
There was another kiss to your forehead before a quiet, "No…you're much more real now."
"What about your dad?" You questioned, "Did he treat you better than your mom?"
"My father was a fool and a hypocrite. He turned a blind eye to my hurts on the pretense of maintaining control over the household, all while hiding his own sins deep in the past."
The man you held on to sounded irritated, as if his father's failure as a parent was an inconvenience and not a tragedy. A long finger started to brush wayward hairs behind your ear.
"Your father was also a disappointment, was he not?" He asked out loud.
Taken aback by the sudden focus on your other parent, you barely stuttered out a quick, "What?"
"Your mother, she's not the only one who let you down, is she?" He continued to stroke your face, "You visited your father when you found out."
The memory assailed your mind. After years of wondering about him, you had accidently found a letter that he had written your mom a few months before your birth, full of loving words and shockingly sweet promises. He told her he would leave his wife for her and everything.
You had visited him the next night, asking him if he was your father and why he had never come out about it. He had laughed in your face, telling you that your mother was naive enough to believe that he would ever leave his wife and kids for her.
"Why would I waste my life with some slut from the trailer park?" He had asked you, looking you up and down before adding, "I see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. How do I even know you're mine?"
Humiliation had burned within you, soon transforming into fury. You had threatened him without thinking, telling him you would go to his wife and show her the letters.
"Now let me tell you something, girl," He had seethed, "I built half this town. Now the majority of these fine folks already don't like you. They know you're as big a whore as your mama. What will they think when they find out you tried to blackmail a respectable man such as myself?"
He had called the police on you then, claiming trespassing and harassment. The entire town knew by the next morning and although the charges had been dropped, everyone treated you as if you were a criminal.
It all went downhill from there.
"He didn't even care," Your voice cracked as more fat tears began to flow, looking at the blonde next to you, “That was the worst part- he acted as if..as if I was nothing. It's not fair!"
"Hush now it's all over," Henry murmured, "What he did was horrible, but it's over now. You have a home here."
"So…whatever happened- to your parents, I mean," You sniffed and looked up at him, still held in his embrace.
He looked down at you and titled his head slightly, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait to hear that story, it's ending is not very pleasant."