6:33, HOPPER’S CABIN, SUNDAY, HAWKINS, INDIANA

You and Eleven sat on her bed, legs crossed, a mess of pillows behind you. The lamp beside the bed cast a warm, yellow glow over the room, making the vibe more.. romantic. You’d been talking for over an hour—about everything and nothing. Movies, school, Hopper's weird habits, what you had said about your Step-brother that made you both laugh so hard your stomachs still hurt.

It was easy with Eleven, to talk with your number one biggest crush... Easy to talk. Easy to laugh. Easy to feel like this—like maybe the world outside her bedroom didn’t exist.

The door was completely closed, not even cracked. Hopper had grunted something about “trust” when he left for his night shift, but neither of you had really paid much attention. It felt too natural to question. Too good.

And then, without thinking, you said it.

”Your lips are really pretty.” You spoke randomly.

The words slipped out before you could stop them. And they hung there. Heavy. Electric. Your heart skipped a beat.

Eleven paused, blinking. She looked at you with an unreadable expression for a moment, her lips parting slightly like she was testing the words in her mind. Then she tilted her head, just a little, blinking her big, brown eyes up at you.

“Do you… want to kiss them?” She asked, her voice quiet but steady. There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes—but no fear, no judgment. Just... curiosity. Vulnerability, maybe?