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When he wakes up, his thoughts are sluggish.
His eyes are glued shut with sleepy gunk.
The sun shines through the window, warmth on his exposed skin and the dust that dances in the light tickles his nose. He's content.
He rolls over to view his friend sleeping next to him. They had barely been able to go to sleep the night before, their minds still riddled with the horrors they'd witnessed over the summer. The only thing that helps is being near each other. His head still hurts, and there is a constant ringing in his left ear, but they are safe and really, that's all that matters.
She stirs, scrunches her nose, and buries her head deeper into the pillow.
“G'morning“ he tells her. She grumbles, but replies “Mornin'“ with a gravely voice.
He cant help but giggle.
He loves her. Not in the way he'd loved Nancy, not in the way he loves Dustin, or Max or the other kids. It's not stronger, this love, but it's deeper, like on an atomic level.It goes further than anything he'd ever felt before.
It's like they're made for each other. Two peas in a pod. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
He loves her with all his being, his bones and skin and muscle and brain. She makes his heart bloom.
To the outside, they look like lovers, too close to be just friends, and really that's the wrong word for them. He'd called Tommy and Carol his friends. Nancy is his friend, Jonathan is his friend.
“Friends“ doesn't even come close to what they are, but there's not really a word for it, is there?
What do you call someone who you share your every thought with, who knows the deepest feelings in your soul, who has seen below the surface, seen you ugly and naked and angry and sad, who sat with you for hours and hours, who endured torture in a Russian bunker, far below the earths surface, with you?
What do you call that?
He's still giggling.
“What's so funny, dingus?“ she asks, and he sobers, his giggles dying out.
“You know I love you, right, Robs?“
“Love you too“, she replies, still sleepy, her head buried in the pillow next to his shoulder.
She turns to him, eyes half closed “Whats up? You usually wait with the declamations until you've had your coffee“
He bumps his head against hers. “I dunno. Just felt like saying that.“
She pushes her head against his, just a little. “Dingus“ she sighs. “Come on, up we get. I've got school“. she puts on a silly, very bad, scottish accent for the last sentence, making him giggle again. “I call dibs on showering!“, she exclaims and scrambles up from bed, leaving him to ruminate in his thoughts.
Usually he'd be running after her and trying to go first because she always uses up all the hot water, but today he lets her.
They stand next to each other in the bathroom, brushing their teeth.
They get dressed together, asking silly questions like “Does my butt look good in this?“ or “Does this shirt go with the jeans?“.
He makes breakfast as she sits on the counter and goes over her notes for biology again.
He drives her to school, she does her makeup in the car, they're listening to the radio, they talk about everything and nothing.
He drops her off, tells her “Bye, love you, babes“ and she replies “Love you too, dingus“.
He's at work, doing mindless tasks, processing returns, sweeping in the aisles, calling to explain to old Mrs. Smith for the hundred time that she is not buying the movies she is renting them and they need to be returned, he refills the candy jar and then eats all the blue jelly beans because they're superior.
When Robin comes, it's still boring, but at least she's there.
Now most of their time is spent telling off random kids for trying to get into the r-rated section and explaining that yes, they can tell that this kid is definitely not 17 so no, we can't let you rent The Shining.
They spend a lot of time shit-talking behind the customers backs. Mr Johnson, who's renting snow white for the 10th time this month (they really hope he has kids). Ms. Anderson, who's called to renew her renting period for Rocky Horror Picture Show for the 3rd time (she's definitly gay, they have a betting pool on if the woman she usually comes in with is her friend or friend).
They spend their lunch break sitting on the trunk of his car, sharing some sandwiches he'd made that morning.
The rest of their day is uneventful. They sort through returns, watch a movie about robots falling in love that they found lodged behind the shelves while cleaning up and Robin gets a headstart on some homework.
The hours stretch like gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, but when it's time for closing, they flip the sign at the door, yell at Keith in the back that they're going, and pretty much jump in the car.
He drives them home, they sing along to the radio and point out every single animal they see on their drive (five cats, twelve dogs, 17 cows, a singular horse and about a trillion birds).
He cooks them dinner, Robin writes an essay on coal mining 100 years ago versus now, they're having light conversation. Shes sitting at the dining table, lost in her papers, and he dances around her while setting the table, music playing softly from the record player in the living room.
They eat, and they talk, and they should've run out of things to talk about forever ago, but they haven't and they probably never will.
They clean up together, he scrubs the dishes and Robin dries and puts them away.
They dance to a few more songs, he puts his everything into a performance of Dancing In The Dark that has her howling on the ground with laughter.
She finishes her essay, he does his evening round of calling Max and Dustin to check on how they're doing, and they get ready for bed.
They get changed, brush their teeth, wash their faces. All while not once losing sight of each other, always talking, always making sure the other is within reach. They wear their usual pajamas, old t-shirts and boxers that should've long ago been thrown out because they have holes all over, but they're comfy, so they stay.
They get into bed, and they talk until their eyes are threaten to fall shut. That's when they nestle into their favorite positions, him slightly on his back but also his side and her on her stomach, her face nuzzled into his shoulder, one arm thrown over his chest and her leg in between his. They share a blanket, although it will probably be thrown down the side of the bed in the morning, because he is pretty much a space heater and it's not really cold, even though it's almost Christmas.
They settle down, and just before sleep hits them, he tells her again: “I love you, Robs“, and she replies by cuddling closer into his shoulder, fighting a yawn, and mumbling “I love you too“.
