Work Text:
Prologue:
Tell me what is more beautiful;
How the moon lets the sun shine throughout the day
Or
The way the sun lets the moon glimmer at night.
He noticed the purple first.
They had danced together under the twinkling lights and silver garland at the 1984 Snowball, Mike’s fingers trembling, terrified that if he held too tight the mirage of her would shatter, fearful that if he let go she would cease to exist before him.
He wasn’t sure if what he and El were doing could even be considered dancing, as he was mostly just swaying side-to-side and she would follow suit, but he enjoyed it all the same. She was radiant, bright eyed and rosy cheeked, and in the middle of her forehead lay a single perfect ringlet of hair that made him tongue-tied.
“You look beautiful.” Mike said, and he instantly felt a fool for repeating himself from before. “I like your - uh, - the purple…”
He hadn’t realised Lucas and Max had been so close when he said it, but suddenly Max was there peeking over El’s shoulder, smirking at him. “It’s called eye-shadow, Wheeler.”
He scowled at her. He had two sisters - of course he knew it was called eye-shadow.
Feeling brave, Mike twirled El in the opposite direction, away from Lucas’s and Max’s prying eyes and ears. El was clearly startled, but once she found her footing again she threw her head back and giggled. Mike was willing to do anything to have her do it again.
They slow danced together for at least four songs, but Mike felt the moment didn’t last anywhere near long enough before the tempo quickened and everyone around them hastily unclasped themselves from each other, red-faced and stuttering. He didn’t want to let go. El’s eyes had shot to his, uncertain, when Dustin had appeared out of nowhere and snatched her from his grasp. Her shocked gasp soon gave way to tinkling laughter when Dustin began instructing her to stomp with him, completely off-time to the music. It wasn’t long before they were joined by Will, Lucas and Max who were quick to fall into step alongside Dustin and El. Awkwardness and self-consciousness squirmed in Mike’s gut and he backed away from his friends, before realising him being the only one in the room not dancing was far more embarrassing. He started with a reserved tap of his foot, but was soon swinging his entire body haphazardly, lost in the unmeasurable joy of being young and with his friends.
The spell was broken when his sister wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow and dragged him off of the dance floor. Her mouth quirked into a smile when she took in his flushed face, heaving chest and slick forehead.
“Whoa there. I just wanted to let you know Jonathan’s closing down the photobooth soon. Just in case you wanted a picture…?”
Nancy inclined her head back towards the group, where El was watching them. Mike mumbled his thanks to his sister and gestured to El to join him. When they got to the photobooth station, Jonathan was packing the camera away. His gaze softened as he looked at El, and sighed. “One. If you’re quick.”
They got into position in front of the glittery silver streamers. Mike noticed the bewildered look on El’s face, and the realisation that this might be one of the first photograph’s El had ever had taken of her made his chest suddenly feel heavy. He started to explain what was happening when Jonathan said his name. Mike turned just as he heard the click of the camera, and the whir of the polaroid photograph being processed.
“Hey! We weren’t ready.” Mike spluttered.
“I’m sorry, man.” Jonathan said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “This isn’t my camera. I was supposed to have it back ten minutes ago.”
Jonathan handed him the polaroid before marching off with the camera equipment. It was still processing, but Mike could make out the mystified look on El’s face, and the downright angry look on his. He frowned, upset that their first picture together had come out so badly. He almost didn’t want to let El look at it, but he passed it to her when she held her hand out.
Mike waited for her face to fall, for her to hand it back instantly. Instead she did the opposite, with her face lighting up as she traced her fingertip along the polaroid.
“I like it too.” She said, her voice soft. “The purple.”
After that, the colour cropped up everywhere. From the posters on her wall, to her favourite pair of fluffy socks, to the ribbon tied around her Christmas presents: it was all purple ranging from lilac to mulberry, periwinkle to plum. She mostly wore second hand clothes that Hopper had managed to secure, and the t-shirt she loved the most was a delicate shade of lavender. She even took an interest in Will’s wizard costume, and once, when he had won a particularly gruelling campaign, he had let her wear the wizard’s hat which she had looked ridiculously cute in.
When the whole party hung out in Mike’s basement, El and Will could often be found with their heads bent together at the table whilst they drew and coloured in comforting silence, both their fingertips stained in ink. El had really taken to art, and particularly enjoyed drawing the six of them. Mike had stuck both her and Will’s drawings to the basement wall and as he looked at them all, he noticed two things: how much she had improved since she had started, and how her figure was wearing purple in each of them.
“That’s very good.” Mike overheard El say quietly to Will, gesturing to the paper in front of him. Mike couldn’t see what he was working on.
“Thanks, El. He’s a Dracolich from DnD. Technically, he’s red in Mike’s campaign, but I wanted to make him blue.”
“Is blue your favourite colour?”
“Yeah. What’s yours?”
“Yellow.”
Mike had to stop himself from interrupting their quiet, private conversation. His incredulous eyes wandered back over El’s drawings, and as they did he noticed details he never had before. Whilst she wore purple in each one, every iteration of Mike included some yellow somewhere, from the shade of his shirt to the stripes in his sweater. Even if it wasn’t in his clothes, it was in the gleaming golden sun that shone down from above him.
“May I ask why you are smiling at absolutely nothing, Mike?”
“No you may not.”
It was cliche to say that El had taken all the colour with her to California, but it was exactly how he felt. Everything around him felt dull, muted and lifeless. Even his friends seemed to feel it too, with Max pulling away from them before El and Will had even been gone a week. It wasn’t all bad - he had joined the Hellfire Club and lost himself in the whirlwind fun of a campaign, but that would last a few hours at most, and even then he had to pretend like he didn’t feel Dustin’s eyes on him every single time someone rolled an eleven.
The months dug their heels in, refusing to pass quickly. Summer became autumn, which became winter and thus the outside finally reflected the colourlessness he had been feeling since she had left. When spring slowly crept around, Mike had used the warmer air as an excuse to get out of the house. He had read El’s latest letter seven times that morning and felt he could breathe easy once again: they had finally settled on a date where he would be visiting her in California, seeing her for the first time since she had left the previous year. The phone calls and the letters were definitely the highlights of his week, but it would never live up to the real thing. He was aching to see her.
Without meaning to, Mike found himself steering his bike on a familiar route and ended up near Hop’s cabin. He didn’t want to see the destruction they had left, didn’t want to be reminded of the moment the Mind Flayer had torn a hole in the roof and attempted to rip El from them. He could still feel her small hands slipping from his grasp. He managed to avoid going too close to the cabin by taking a short-cut through the meadow at the edge of Hawkins.
He brought his bike to a stand-still, laughter bursting from him as he took in the sight of before him.
Hundreds and hundreds of purple and yellow flowers, all entwined together.