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Mike tilted his hand, tracing the glow of the moon across the ruby ring. He knew that he was supposed to keep it in the box, but he found himself fiddling with the ring every day since he got it.
He had a silly idea in his head that holding the ring might imbue it with his touch, that El could wear it as a substitute for holding his hand. She might look at the unbroken loop and glean some stability from his love for her.
His unspoken love. The thought of that made Mike sigh aloud. Shaky as he was with his words, he was counting on this gesture to convey what his voice could not. There were words for love that didn’t cause him to stumble so much, ‘promise’ among them, and he knew that El understood promises for what they were. He had been the one to teach her, after all.
The California Thanksgiving trip was going well, despite the melancholy that tinged everything. That was to be expected, given his separation from El and El’s separation from Hopper. Things didn’t seem quite right between them, because nothing seemed right at all. Mike might have been more concerned if he didn’t realise that their relationship was not to blame. The elation that lit up El whenever she saw him – that glowed in his chest when he even thought of her – was enough to affirm it wasn’t a want of love, troubling their bond. It was more likely an overabundance of it, faced with constant opposition, and a weariness entirely misfit for being fourteen years old.
Mike rarely felt young, but nor did he feel exactly mature. Mostly, he felt lost. Out of depth. For all they had been through, all they had overcome, he didn’t feel close to finding any semblance of peace. Neither did El.
Still, there were means of finding relief from the heave. Always, there was relief with El.
The creak of the back door startled him, and he hastily stuffed the ring into his pocket. He smiled when he saw El emerging from the house.
“Hi,” El whispered. She got close to him, rubbed her cheek into his sweater, as if trying to soak up his warmth. He noted the quiver of her bare knees, left vulnerable by sleep shorts.
“Are you cold?” Mike asked, rubbing her forearm.
“A little,” El admitted.
“You’re cold in California, in the fall? Wait until you’re in Hawkins for Christmas.”
El giggled softly, and Mike echoed her. It was nice to laugh with her again. They hadn’t done much of that since June.
“I remember,” she assured him. She was still smiling, clinging to levity, but Mike could not contain a frown. He knew all too well about El’s familiarity with the cold.
“I guess it’s good you’re somewhere so warm, now,” Mike said.
“Not as good as Hawkins,” El replied, solemnly. “Not as good as home.”
She was staring at him with clear meaning, something Mike understood. Home brought a sunshine of its own, something far more powerful than the rays in the sky. Nothing brought light to his life like El did.
El looked beautiful with her head tipped over his shoulder, with dark circles under her eyes and dimples around her smile. Mike could never doubt her love when she looked at him this way, and he hoped she felt the same certainty when he looked at her. Desperate to convey it, unable to say it, Mike leaned down and kissed her. El clutched his face in her enthusiasm, and the proximity brought so much quiet joy that a smile disrupted their kiss.
Mike fumbled for his pocket, his heart racing. El noticed the movement at once, and followed his flailing fingers with curiosity.
“What is this?” she asked, as he set the velvet box in her hands.
“It’s – um – a gift,” Mike said, weakly.
El’s brow furrowed. “But it’s not Christmas. You don’t get presents on Thanksgiving.”
“No, that’s totally right, but I got this for you a while ago. I just haven’t seen you until now.”
This didn’t seem to relieve her confusion. “Why?”
Because I love you .
Mike shrugged. “Just because.”
The confusion faded from El’s eyes, overtaken by ferocious adoration. She took his hand and squeezed it fiercely.
“Thank you,” El said, sounding incredulous.
“You haven’t even opened it yet!” Mike said, laughing. It wasn’t really funny, though, that she was so unused to receiving presents.
El traced a finger over the seam of the plush box. She moved slowly, carefully, and Mike tried to be patient, waiting for her reaction. When she finally clicked the box open, her mouth fell open. Her fingers trembled over the delicate gold ring, the flat red oval glinting in the band.
The memory of standing in a jewellery store with a tin of coins rushed back to Mike. He recalled the difficulty he had, choosing a gem for her. He knew she favoured yellow and purple, but the colours didn’t seem romantic enough. Pink seemed too soft for Mike’s deep devotion. But red seemed serious enough to capture it. He chose red while thinking of roses and hearts, but now he wondered if he had made the right choice. He had never known El to particularly like red, after all.
“This is for me?” El murmured.
“Of course it is,” Mike said, rubbing his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. He took a deep breath, preparing to explain. “You know what a promise is.”
“Something you can’t break. A vow.”
“Right,” Mike said. “So, my gift… It’s kind of like a promise.”
“A promise?” El asked, looking down at the ring.
“It’s called a promise ring,” Mike explained. “They’re for couples to make commitments to each other, before they’re old enough to – you know – for anything else. It symbolises the promise to stay together.”
El sniffled. She brushed at her cheek for tears that threatened to fall, while Mike gently slid the ring over her right index finger. Her finger was narrow and silk-soft in his hold. He fought the urge to kiss her knuckles.
“You got me this to promise that we’ll stay together?” El asked, her eyes shining.
Mike nodded. “I got it to promise that – that it’s you and me. I’m with you, even when we’re apart. And I’ll always do what I can to take care of you, and protect you, even if that’s kind of pointless when it’s you, whether you have your powers or not – ”
“Not pointless,” El interrupted. “We protect each other.”
He was starting to feel teary, as well.
“Exactly,” he said, nodding earnestly. “And someday, when we’re older, we can be together for real. We can live together, and spend every day together. We’ll never have to be apart again.”
El sighed. “Growing up feels so far away.”
Mike shared this feeling. The prospect of autonomy and respect was so foreign it seemed impossible, no more rooted in reality than the tales spun on the pages of his favourite fantasy novels. But expressing this frustration hardly seemed productive, for El’s sake.
“I know,” he told her. “But it’ll happen. It has to, eventually.”
They both understood the severity underlying his words. As he had taught her – first in words and then in actions – promises were something you couldn’t break. Ever.
Thanksgiving passed in a whirlwind of hurried happiness. Mike was glad to have given El the ring on the first night in California, because it came as a tremendous comfort to him, seeing the golden band on her finger every day.
“I’m never taking it off,” El murmured to him, on his second last night.
The whole family was gathered in the living room, watching a movie, but Mike and El were in their own little world. A place enveloped by a blanket, where their hips and knees brushed, where Mike fiddled with El’s fingers, stroking her ring.
He knew he would feel its absence from his pocket, once he returned to Hawkins. For weeks now, holding it had represented what it now could be to El - hope.
“Never?” Mike asked, one eyebrow raising mockingly. Of course, he trusted her. He knew that she hadn’t taken off Sara’s braided bracelet since Hopper had given it to her, and he knew that his ring would be another staple piece for her.
“Never,” El said. “It’s too beautiful. And it means too much.”
A tangible promise. Something she could touch – an unending loop. Mike hoped she understood exactly what he was vowing. He held her closer and swore in his mind, for the umpteenth time, that someday, he would bring El home.