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Kali is dancing in the dim of his room.
Argyle drew the curtains shut before he went to pick her up—she thrives in the dark, he’s always known that. Always, always, always, ever since he first put his eyes on her by chance. Some sort of cosmic mistake, or perhaps even fate. Really, he’d like to think of it as fate, that just sounds nicer.
And yeah, he’s not exactly a dim guy. Not even a kind of gloomy dude, and his neon pants probably look a little silly in the dark, the many colors of his room dulled by the lack of light, but Kali looks beautiful, and really, that’s what matters. Her beauty in all these shades of grey.
She put on music. Something out of his collection they can both agree on—The Cure, today. He doesn’t tell Kali that he borrowed this tape from Jonathan somewhere at the start of their friendship when he’d been desperate for connection, that it’s not actually really his taste. It’s irrelevant anyway with how she slowly moves to the music—swaying, her eyes closed, her hair and her clothes so dark she almost disappears.
It has something haunting about it. Something hauntingly beautiful, he might add, because while she may be prickly, Argyle’s certainly never been afraid of his girlfriend.
He’s content like this. Content to sit here on his bed, bong in his hand, slightly—or more than slightly, who knows at this point, the sparkle around her might also be her powers, it’s not like he asked to make sure, not like he knows—high while he’s watching Kali move. Not exactly in her element, he supposes, but at peace.
It means a lot to him that she’s at peace around him, in his room. And while he knows that the moment would break apart if he made a noise—if he stumbled or he spoke—that doesn’t really matter, either. All of this is more than enough.
Perhaps he was wrong, anyway, because Kali opens her dark eyes, looks at him in that way that tells him she’s smiling, and walks over to him, still swaying. They’re almost at the same height even with him sitting. She barely has to lean in.
“Hey there,” she whispers, and her breath smells like weed. Tastes like it, too, when Argyle parts his lips. Ah, purple palm tree delight. He loves it almost as much as he loves her.
(He thinks about telling her. Thinks about the amused twinkle in her eyes, that almost-smile on her lips. Thinks about a cocked eyebrow, and a deep, quiet voice whispering, “oh yeah? That’s possible? What an honor.”
Thinks about kissing her.)
“Hi,” he replies, perhaps a little too breathy, because she ducks her head, knocking her forehead into his shoulder. He thinks she’s laughing. It makes a smile spread on his face until he feels like he’s floating.
He’s content like this.
Then the phone starts ringing, piercing through the lulled background noise of the music, and Kali lifts her head sharply and straightens out and the illusion is gone, gone, gone. The edge is back in her bones, in her eyes. He wonders when in the weed haze he became a poet.
Argyle sighs and stands up. Leans in and once she’s glancing at him—he doesn’t touch her when she’s not looking, tries not to, at least; he doesn’t want to spook her—puts his hand on her shoulder. Slowly brushes it up the side of her neck until he can cup her cheek, and her skin is warm to the touch. Smiles.
“I’ll go get it.”
And he thinks she might be laughing again when he shuffles out of the room, almost tripping over himself, so hey, maybe they’ll even be able to melt right back into it once he’s back. Right back into the music and the relaxed haze and that look in her eyes.
And well, if not, he can always get more weed. Perhaps even more music, though they’ll probably have to switch to something more his taste soon simply because he doesn’t have any more The Cure tapes. Or… whatever else she listens to. He’ll have to ask, actually, maybe he can buy a couple of tapes for her, who knows.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have dismissed Jonathan’s music tastes that quickly. With a sigh, Argyle drapes himself over the small table in the hallway the phone is standing on, before grabbing the receiver and pressing it to his ear.
“Whassup.”
Very eloquent, he knows that, but he’s a little dizzy, and that’s the only word his tongue manages to form, alright? Also, everyone who’s calling should know how he is, since he’s mostly home alone anyway. Only him around to pick up the phone!
It is someone who knows it, in the end. Think of the devil, Argyle thinks as Jonathan’s voice comes through the speaker, saying, “Hey, it’s Jonathan.” And then, after a pause, “excuse me?”
Well, perhaps he also said it out loud, who knows. Argyle squints at the wallpaper, at the small flower print. If he looks close enough, he thinks he can see it move.
“Argyle?”
Right. Yeah, right. He’s on the telephone. He’s on the phone and his tiny girlfriend is waiting in his room for him to come back. What is he even doing?
“Jonny boy,” Argyle says anyway, stretching the words out in his mouth until they barely feel like words anymore. “My dude. My man. My dude. How are you? What are you doing?”
There’s some sort of noise in the background of the other end. Someone fighting, Argyle thinks, but it doesn’t sound like anything serious. It sounds like teenagers, actually, so it’s most likely Jonathan’s siblings. Idly, Argyle scratches at his throat.
“Uh,” Jonathan replies. Argyle can practically see him glancing around. That guy really needs to chill. “Good. I guess. Listen—”
Then there’s another interruption. More voices, and Argyle can hear the other guy hiss something before it goes quiet again. Jonathan clears his throat, distorted through the speaker, just as Argyle slowly blinks. Damnit. He lost the staring contest against that little flower. Or, wait, was it the one next to it? The one above? Below? He doesn’t remember.
“I sort of told El and Will you have a girlfriend. They want to see her. Is that okay?”
Argyle is pretty sure he hears a murmur in the background. Something like she’s probably not even real anyway and then another voice hissing that’s so mean, don’t say that, and then come on, you think the same—
“Argyle?”
Argyle blinks again. Thinks about Kali in his room spinning and spinning and spinning. Thinks about being alone with her and wrapping her in his arms and kissing her and watching her and perhaps even making her laugh.
“I can ask,” he hears himself say. “She’s here right now. She doesn’t like you that much, though.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, he realizes a few heartbeats too late, but Jonathan snorts. “Cool,” he says, “cool. You’ll call back?”
Distracted by the wallpaper again, Argyle hums. He only notices that the call has ended when the signal has been beeping for a while already. How long has it been? How did he not notice? Dude, that noise is grating, almost making him feel like he’s going to develop a headache.
Whatever. He won the staring contest this time, and he puts the receiver down before walking back to his room. Kali is still there—obviously, he didn’t make her up, after all. Or did he?
But hey, part of him is still afraid he’ll vanish, apparently. Sneak out through the window, like she’d done in the very beginning, when they just got to know each other. Man, he’d been so high back then he really thought she was just a figment of his imagination, only for her to show up at the Surfer Boy’s Pizza right at the end of his shift the next day.
But she’s still there. Sitting on his bed, now, eyes closed, swaying slowly still. For a few seconds, Argyle stops in the doorway, leaning against the door frame and stares. Then her eyes flutter open, her eyelids dark—black, he thinks, maybe purple, but the dim light sucks all saturation out of her few colors—and she catches him.
“Hey there,” he says, echoing her earlier words. Kali grins a little. Kicks one of her feet in her heavy, black boots. Argyle imagines going on his knees and slowly, gently, unlacing them and taking them off for her. He imagines doing a lot of things for her, all the time. Maybe he can tell her one day.
“Who was it?”
That kicks him back into the present. He stares at her for a beat longer, then he furrows his brows. Thinks. Right, Jonathan. Jonathan called because—
“Jonathan,” he mumbles, and Kali rolls her eyes, which makes him laugh a little. He pats the door frame, grins at her, presses his cheek to the cool, lacquered wood. “His siblings want to meet you. They think I made you up.” He furrows his brows. “But Jonathan has seen you. I don’t understand why they don't believe him. ‘S that normal? I don’t have siblings, so it’s not like I would know.”
Kali’s amused expression tightens. She presses her lips to a thin line and Argyle feels like he’s lost footing for a moment, like he’s stumbling, even when he’s leaned into the wall. It sobers him up a little, however, this feeling. When he straightens out, he’s no longer swaying, and he’s only a little dizzy.
“Kal—”
She waves him off. “Who are his siblings?”
For a moment more, he stands there with his lips parted. Wants to ask, wants to dig, but nothing comes out, and his fuzzy brain would probably not come up with anything better even if he wasn’t high.
So he takes the out, even when he feels a little bad about it. Swallows, and raps his fingers against the door frame. “Will, I think. And, uh, El. Maybe short for Elizabeth? I dunno. They’re teenagers. Like, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Something like that.”
Kali just hums. She seems like she’s thinking about it—which surprises him, if he’s honest. She doesn’t like meeting new people, doesn’t like taking too many risks, prefers just to stay in the shadows and scowl at everyone. Which is cute, if he’s honest, but that’s not the point. No, the point is…
What is the point again?
(Perhaps the point is that she might be changing. Perhaps the point is that Argyle feels all warm at that thought, like his chest is swelling. Perhaps the point is that she’s seemingly trying, seemingly interested in partaking in his life, at least a little bit. Perhaps the point is that he loves her. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.)
Finally, she shrugs. Argyle blinks. Blinks again, stares, stares, stares, like he just saw three shooting stars or some other type of miracle. Like he just saw her for the very first time. She could make him see three shooting stars, couldn’t she? Maybe he should ask. He’s always wanted to see a shooting star.
“Why not.”
Argyle blinks again, crashing back down from the universe to this earth, this room. Like a shooting star. That thought almost makes him snort, but instead, he clears his throat. “Yo, seriously?”
Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, Kali nods. Then she shrugs again. Perhaps not that obvious, in the end. Maybe she’s also just a little high. Well, she’s definitely a little high. He is, too, after all.
Point is: why question it? This is where they are right now, and he’s got to do whatever with it, so Argyle shrugs back. Smiles to himself when his girlfriend walks over to his desk to grab her leather jacket from the back of the chair. It’s way too hot in California (Cali, Kali, and he’s made that joke a million times already, but it still earns him a shove and a noise that doesn’t not sound like a laugh, so) for a leather jacket, but she’s always wearing it, so he’s given up his worry.
Not to mention she looks hot as hell in it, so. Yeah, he’s definitely not complaining.
“Let’s go, then,” Kali says, tugging at the collar of her leather jacket, before brushing past him and walking down the hall. Argyle’s arm is tingling where her shoulder brushed it, and he stares after her for a few heartbeats, static in his head, before she turns around and frowns at him. Like this, in the light of the hallway, he can see her thick brows and the dark eyes and the slope of her nose. She’s beautiful. “Hello?”
Oh. Yeah. Right. He clears his throat again before clambering to follow her, smiling a little when she scoffs and turns back around on her heels. Her steps are heavy when she’s rushing down the stairs, and he knows she’s doing it on purpose. She can move very quietly if she wants to. It’s kind of spooky, actually.
When she throws a glance over her shoulder, the orange light of the kitchen catches in her hair and the sight makes Argyle stumble a little.
“I’m driving.”
Yeah. That’s probably the best idea, all things considered.
.
When they’re pulling up at the Byers’ house, Argyle has just managed to fold his legs and curl up in a way that makes it possible to rest his head on her shoulder. Honestly, sometimes he’s in awe that Kali is even tall enough to drive.
But, yeah. He’s just gotten comfortable, and then his Surfer Boy Pizza van jerks to a stop and he lets out a weary sigh. What horrendous timing. Is the ride always that short?
Kali laughs through her nose without any expression indicating she’s laughing. She’s good at that. Argyle peers up at her from under his lashes.
“You sound like an exhausted housewife,” she mutters, and he grins. Continues staring at her until she nudges him in the side—or at least she attempts to, but he’s taller and curled up in a position that he’s actually not sure he can unravel himself from, so she touches his shoulder, instead. “Come on, get off me already.”
Complaining under his breath—but you’re so warm, you’re so cute, I was just getting comfy, do we have to, we can make them wait a little longer—he unfolds himself slowly, stretching in his seat, catching the way she grimaces when his spine pops from the corner of his eye.
Alright. Alright. The Byers’ house, yay. He hopes they at least have some food, he’s getting kind of hungry. They could also just order pizza, however. Would be fitting.
Chuckling at his own almost-joke, Argyle climbs out of the van and slams the door shut behind him, watching Kali shake her head, pocket the keys, and hop out the other side. Only then does he get in motion again—he forgets that, sometimes. That he’s not just a mindless watcher, but a human being that can act and move. That sounds insane. He’s not insane, is he? He’s just high.
“Argyle!” Kali calls out, and he immediately loops around the van to wrap his arms around her shoulders, leaning his chin against the top of her head.
“‘M here,” he mumbles, “sorry.”
She pats his forearm. “Don’t worry,” she says, just a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and it makes him smile into her coarse hair. “Everyone is already used to you being a little dazed most of the time.” She pauses, then. Adds, “It’s cute, though. I guess.”
She’s been doing that, recently—not necessarily trying to be less prickly, but trying not to insult people, at least. And really, Argyle didn’t feel particularly insulted by her comment, if he’s honest—he’s high, it’s whatever—but it still makes him smile. Still makes him squeeze her in his arms until she wheezes and taps his arm again, more insistent this time.
“Okay, enough.”
Which makes him back off immediately. He smiles when Kali grabs for his hand, even when she’s using it to drag him along towards the door. Once there, Argyle knocks.
“Knock knock!” he calls out, for good measure, and next to him Kali sighs, ringing the doorbell.
Whatever was the deciding factor doesn’t really matter because the door opens a bit after—just a moment or two, probably, but honestly, who knows—and reveals Jonathan Byers with his eye-bags and the hair falling into his face. He looks tired, but really, when does he not?
Argyle smiles. Kali doesn’t.
“Hey, man,” he grins, pushing past the other boy and inside the house. “You got anything to eat here? I’m starving, dude.”
He thinks Kali might be greeting Jonathan or the other way around—the other way around is more likely if he’s honest—but he’s busy walking into the kitchen, where Jonathan’s sister is standing with a juice box in her hand. She glances up at him, before cocking her head.
“Is she here?” she asks, slowly. “I don’t think you’d come over if she didn’t exist. That would be stupid.”
Argyle grins. Opens the fridge and scans over its contents—but honestly, nothing here looks too appealing. Perhaps because his brain is locked on pizza already. God, he really wants a pizza.
“Do you want a pizza?” he asks out loud, walking over to the telephone. Jonathan’s sister—El, right?—blinks.
“Sure,” she says, furrowing her brows a little, before picking her juice box back up. She’s sort of frowning at him from across the room as he dials the number and picks up the phone to order, but he’s too busy to pay it much mind. Too busy to pay the voices from the hall much mind, either—Jonathan and another male voice, now, so his brother probably arrived at the scene. Hey, the more the merrier. He’ll just get two pizzas.
Once he’s done with the order, Jonathan walks into the kitchen. He says something to El, but then the others follow—Jonathan’s brother (Will? Argyle is pretty sure it’s Will) first and then Kali, Kali, Kali.
He’s about to say something, or honestly just walk over and wrap her in his arms or whisper something to her or just stand in her general vicinity staring at her if everything else is too much, but then everything just sort of… stops. Kali looks up and sees El, and her eyes widen just as the other girl’s do, too.
For a few moments too long, they’re staring at each other. This is weird. This is weird, right? He’s not imagining this?
“Guys?” Jonathan asks, carefully, which hey, at least tells Argyle he isn’t imagining anything. “Do you guys… know each other?”
The girls ignore him, and Argyle shuffles closer, trying his best to be quiet. Honestly, he doesn’t know what weird tension he’s afraid of breaking, but as long as no one notices him—
El’s face twists into a look of… guilt. Yeah, he’d say that’s faint guilt. What the hell? “I’m—” she starts, but then Kali is in front of her already and pulls her into a hug. Argyle lifts his brows. Glances at Jonathan, who glances back with the same confusion. Will looks pretty much the same, also.
So, yeah. He’s not tripping. This is weird.
“Uh,” he starts, but the girls aren’t done yet. In a world of their own, or whatever. Hey, he can respect that.
“I’m sorry,” El manages to get out, muffled by a face-full of Kali’s jacket. Doesn’t taste too good, all things considered, Argyle would know. “I’m—”
“Don’t apologize,” Kali mumbles. Really, this seems like a private moment, one they shouldn’t listen in on, and Argyle moves to grab Jonathan by the sleeve of his flannel to drag him out. “I’ve had time to think. I’m—just glad you’re okay, really.”
“Dude,” Jonathan hisses when Argyle tugs at him. Argyle turns to look at him, irritated, and Will sighs. “What are you doing?”
“This is a nice moment, man,” Argyle says. “I feel like we’re interrupting. Come on.”
This time, it’s Kali who’s sighing. She pushes El away again, gently, holding the other girl at arm’s length, before glancing at Jonathan and Argyle, exasperated. “You guys are loud.” And then, while Jonathan is still busy opening his mouth, “she’s my sister.”
Which… doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, all things considered, but Argyle nods anyway. It’s not like Kali has any reason to lie to him, and El looks like she agrees with the whole thing, too, so there’s that.
“Oh my God,” Will mutters. “Kali. Of course. El talked about you sometimes. I totally forgot about all that.”
Argyle ignores him, though he’s happy at the faint smile on Kali’s face. “Dude, does that mean you’re also Jonathan’s sister?” he turns to his friend. “Am I dating your sister?”
Jonathan frowns. “No. No it does not. No you’re not. You’re not dating my sister.”
But, hey, he’s only being logical, alright? If Kali is El’s sister and El is Jonathan’s sister, then…
Argyle hums. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I’m dating your sister.”
Kali groans. “Ew. No, thank you.”
Which just makes him smile, and slowly, he walks over, until he can knock his chin into the top of Kali’s head. She moves to claw into his shirt, and that makes him lift his brows, glance down at her. “You’ll be okay?” he whispers and she rolls her eyes. “Do you want me to give you guys a moment?”
She shrugs. Chews on her bottom lip. Glances at El—who picked up her juice box again, but glances back, fidgeting. “Yeah. Yeah, I—yeah.”
“Sure thing, babe,” Argyle whispers back, even when everyone can hear them. It’s not really a big kitchen, after all. He still leans in to press a kiss to the side of Kali’s head, and she squeezes her hands in his shirt once before letting go. “Alright!” Argyle continues, louder, patting both Will and Jonathan on the back. “Let’s go wait for the pizza.”
Will is muttering something under his breath, glancing over his shoulder, but he follows them outside, anyway. It’s a little awkward, just standing around out here in the hall, but hey, anything for his girlfriend.
Plus, the pizza arrives soon enough, so he has something to eat finally, too. Even when it does sober him up.
(It’s okay—he’s smoking a joint in the van when they drive back. Kali knocks her boot against his shoe and he smiles, tilts his head back.
She’ll tell him about El soon, probably when they’re both lying in his bed in the safety of the dark. It’s okay. He can wait. He’s just happy she’s relaxed again.)