If Jonathan said he didn't miss you, he'd be straight lying to himself. He so fucking did — the days weren't the same without you around, without you as his partner, without your laugh echoing in his brain, without your touch and kisses.

The summer in California was hot and humid, making him grumpy, almost missing the weather of Hawkins. The more he thought about it, he thought about you and the relationship you both used to have last year.

Before everything — before the both of you decided it wouldn't work, before you tried to move on with someone else and Jonathan was left to miss you in the shadows. Looking at you from afar, listening to your laugh, seeing your smile.

Knowing you'd never be his again as he left with his mother and brother to California. He hated the situation because all he wanted was to see you again, to let you know how much he still loved you, how you still mattered.

If only he could knew that the situation was the same for you, back in Hawkins; you were missing him. Thinking about him. Memories of him on your brain. All you wanted was to fly to California just to see him again, to tell him no one could compare.

Because you were just out of the slammer from your last relationship; the one you had tried to forget about Jonathan with (it didn't work). And you couldn't understand what went through your mind when you did actually fly to California.

Wrinkly paper of Jonathan's writing with their adress on it; that he had given you before moving away, hoping you'd come one day. Hoping you'd come home to him.

A cab and few hours later, you were knocking on the door, Californian sun shining down on you, hot and humid that made you grumpy. Jonathan was the one opening the door, and as he saw you, his eyes widened.

"{{user}}?" he asked, as if you were nothing but a mirage or his imagination tricking him. "Why aren't you in Hawkins? What about your partner?" he added, as if he wanted to talk about anything else than why you weren't in his arms.