46. Do me a favor (Mileven)

The sudden ringing startled her out of sleep, and she wrestled her hands out of the sheets to fumble around her nightstand for the phone, knocking things around. While she put it to her ear, she blinked quickly, eyes on the ceiling of her room.

"Hello?"

No words were said on the other side of the line, but the breathing was enormously familiar to her, and this had become a frequent situation, so she instantly knew who it was.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes with her free hand as she shifted on her back, the phone cord stretching over her chest.

"I know it's you." She mumbled, waiting for him while she stared at the blinking 2:13 numbers on the clock.

A shaky breath reached her ears, and just when she was sure it would be one of those nights where he hung up after she answered, he finally spoke.

"...Hey."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the sudden pang in her chest down. "Mike—"

"Were you sleeping?" He interrupted, voice quiet and dragged.

"You know I was," she whispered. "I always am."

"Oh..." he paused, as if trying to find the words, any words, to keep the conversation flowing. "Sorry."

"Mike, it's late."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just..." the line went static for a minute while he shifted the phone. "I wanted to hear your voice."

He sounded louder, the speaker closer to his mouth, and she sighed deeply as she detected the slurring in his voice.

"Have you been drinking?"

"...no..."

"Mike—", she cut herself off, lightly shaking her head as she repeated in her mind that it was useless. "You can't keep doing this."

"I'm sorry," his voice cracked, and she closed her eyes again in anticipation. "I just- I miss you so much and I know you hate me but—"

"I don't hate you, Mike." She sighed, pressing her fingertips to her eyelids.

"Yes, you do." He insisted.

"I've told you a million times that I don't hate you, okay?"

"Then... please—"

"Mike, I'm not—"

"Please, El—"

"Michael," she snapped, trying to control her emotions. "We've talked about this. Please, please, stop."

He hiccupped, a whine escaping from the back of his throat, and she had to pull the phone away so he wouldn't hear her bury her own anguished cry. She pressed her lips together tightly, gulping as she felt the tears start pooling in her eyes.

This had been going on for months. She tried telling herself that it wasn't her fault, but it kind of was.

They hadn't spoken a lot since the breakup, the distance proving to be a lot of help, but she couldn't miss his graduation. It had been an impulsive, selfish and emotional decision, but she couldn't have forgiven herself if she wasn't there to see him get the title he had struggled so hard to achieve. The one that had torn them apart. They had been an unstable mess, but their friends and their parents had been the perfect moderators to their emotional meeting.

Of course, she had never counted on going back to his apartment. And kissing him. A lot. The worse thing is that they didn't even had sex, they just fell asleep together, in his bed.

She had left with a million apologies falling from her lips and his watery eyes pleading for her to stay, but she couldn't.

And that had resulted on him calling her weekly. She was kind of concerned about him getting drunk at least once a week, but by then she knew her scolding fell on deaf ears every time.

The worst thing-even though she didn't want to admit it to herself- was that he never called in the morning. It was always in the middle of the night, hidden in the shadows, where he could be vulnerable and she could be patient. She didn't know how she would react if he did call in the day. Would they be normal? Chatting like the pair of old friends they were? Or would they be awkward and stiff, conversation falling to pieces as the hurt from their failed relationship seeped through their pores?

Sometimes he called and hung up after a few minutes, just breathing with her through the phone until she caved and said his name. Other times he would be pure babble, talking about anything that came to mind. Sometimes he cried and cursed her for not fighting for them; those times left her with an achy throat from screaming at him and with a trembling body, hands pressed against her face and feet kicking the covers away as she sobbed. She didn't know how she liked him best, but even though she always got exasperated and demanded for him to stop calling in the middle of the night, she knew she had grown attached to his calls.

Maybe it was the hope in her; the one that hit her out of nowhere and the one she couldn't squish away, no matter how hard she tried. The depth of their feelings ran so deep that she knew no matter how much time passed, pieces of them would always linger inside.

"What are you wearing?" His voice cut through her thoughts.

Surprisingly, she chuckled, cheekbones pushed high and teeth gleaming in the dark. "Really? That's what we're doing tonight?"

"Only if you want us to."

She couldn't help herself from laughing, melancholy staining the corners of her lips.

"I'll let you guess."

"Is it the Ramones shirt? I always loved the way it looked on you. It was never long enough to cover your ass." He slurred, but she could hear a grin on his voice.

She laughed again. "No, sorry to disappoint you but I'm actually wearing the biggest sweater I own and a pair of sweatpants."

"Oh... it's okay. I'm not disappointed. You look good in anything. I bet you look beautiful right now." He sighed deeply, gripping the phone tighter, and she rolled to lie on her side, chest tight again.

"How's the internship going?" She decided to ask after a few minutes of silence.

"Good. The boss is amazing but his PA is a complete bitch."

She chuckled gently, closing her eyes as sleep started blurring her vision again. "How's the work place?"

"I made some friends."

"Yeah, what they're called? Tequila and Vodka?"

He snorted, the puff of air loud on the phone. "Funny. That's actually a deathly combination."

"Yeah, tell me about it, you would know." She sighed, playing with the phone cord.

"Matthew and Liam. The names. Those are my new friends' names."

"Are they nice?"

"Yeah. Matt's from Ohio and Liam is a local. The guys would like them. You would like them."

"Maybe I'll meet them someday."

"Yeah," he rushed out, and she grimaced, knowing she had made a mistake. "Maybe you could... come and visit again."

"I... I don't think that's a good idea, Mike." She whispered sadly, feeling her walls start to crumble.

"El… I know that we didn't- I- we fucked it up. But we're in different places now. Maybe—"

"Mike, I'm tired and I have to wake up early tomorrow." She nearly gasped out, sitting up with her back against the wall.

"Just- listen! You always do this! Why do you always do this to me? You just… run and run every time and I love you and I can't keep you out of my mind—"

"Mike, please—"

"—even though you don't want to admit it. I know you still love me. And we can- we can fight. For each other, El."

She was crying. There. Another night in which he succeeded in making her cry.

"Stop guilt-tripping me—"

"Why are you so scared, Eleven?!" The presumed high-level of alcohol in his system always made him bolder, louder. "What are you scared of?!"

"You!" She finally screamed, anguish rushing though her vocal cords like vomit. "I can't let you in again, Mike. You… broke my heart," her voice cracked, nose stinging from the cold AC. "And I won't let you do it again."

"You broke my heart too," he whispered brokenly, making her heart ache even more. "You broke me. You're not innocent in this, you know?"

"I never said I was." She snapped, wiping the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingertips.

"Why won't you try? Why won't you give us another chance, El?"

She sobbed, her feelings running out in the form of fat tears. She couldn't help herself. All the hurt, pain, anger, guilt, regret, from their final fight always caught up with her. He made her revive those buried memories.

"I love you," Mike cried drunkenly, hiccupping through his tears. "I'll always love you, Ellie. I don't care if you want to keep lying to yourself, but I won't hide anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll wait," he took a deep breath, shaky and full of emotions, but when he spoke again, he sounded calmer, sobered up. "I'll wait for you, okay? Just… don't leave me like this again."

"Mike," she tried weakly, words failing her. "I…"

Of course she loved him. Even though she'd tried to convince herself otherwise, their reunion back in June proved that those feelings hadn't been erased. They had merely been asleep; on pause, ready to press play the minute their eyes met.

But she had crawled out of the dark hole she had been in. She had recovered, focusing on school, on work, on anything but him. And she was scared of going back to the deep abysm.

"I'm scared." She finally admitted, biting her lip anxiously.

"I'm scared too," he whispered, hope drowning his voice. "But I know we'll make it work. I'm scared of the 'what ifs', but I'm not scared of us."

She had to take a minute to appreciate his words. Even sloppy drunk, Michael Wheeler still managed to sound like a modern Shakespeare.

She sighed again, sniffling as she combed her hair back from her sticky face and eyed the hour on the clock. "I can't promise you it'll work, Mike."

"You don't have to. I'm just asking for a chance. It's not a promise, it's a… maybe."

"…Maybe." She repeated shakily, fingers knotted on the sheets by her hip. She couldn't just say yes. She had to think things through, and she couldn't do that at three in the morning. "I need to go."

"Okay," he whispered back, sniffling quietly. "I'm sorry for keeping you up."

"… I'm not." And she was being honest.

"Thank you for hearing me out."

"I always do. It's like a spell. I can't just hang up on you." She chuckled quietly, shaking her head while she slipped down the bed again.

Out of nowhere, he burped. Loud and disgustingly, but it made her laugh while he hastily apologized. "I'm sorry. I think I had too many drinks tonight."

"Do me a favor and drink some Advil in the morning. That's gonna leave one hell of a hangover."

"Will do." He coughed lightly, sniffling again as she heard him move around in the background. She wondered if he was in bed like her, or if he was calling from a random phone. She couldn't hear any street sounds, only the deafening silence of the enclosed space he was in, so she concluded of him being in his apartment.

He sighed softly, and she knew he had one last thing to say before saying goodbye. "Do me a favor and don't give up on us."

She stalled, eyes blinking bright again. "I… I'll try. I promise that I'll try, Mike."

"Okay," he whispered again, sounding too much like the teenager boy she used to talk in the late hours of the night, tucked in her bed back at the Hopper-Byers' house, SuperCom in hand and giggles muffled against her pillows. Those were the days. "Sleep tight."

"Good night, Mike." She muttered, shutting her eyes and feeling her wet lashes cling to the bags under her eyes.

"Good night, El."

And then they hung up.

It took her a few minutes, tossing around the bed and letting some tears out for relief, but she fell asleep with the promise of letting herself be and his voice in her mind.

A/N: *Alyssa Edwards voice* I'm back back back back again! So, this isn't anyone's prompt. Lol. I just wanted an angsty, middle-of-the-night phonecall with drunk Mike and El. I'm working on 3SAH's next chapter, for those who read it and keep PMing me for an update haha. Sorry for being so absent, guys. I know I always say I'm working on updating on a more regular basis again and I'm not living up to my words, but I'm off school next week, so for realz now... I'm coming back! In the meanwhile, keep yourselves busy with this chapter and re-read this whole Prompts story from scratch. Question: which chapter has been your favorite until now? Let me know! As always, tell me your thoughts on this, and you can always follow me on Tumblr as 'heyailin' (someone once asked for my Instagram, and I do have one, but it's personal and it's full of selfies and contains nothing remotely close to this or any of my other stories. But if you want to see what I look like, by all means, be my guest lol. Just tell me your Insta with a comment so I know you're from FF or AO3. Username: _ailinpzapata ) Love!