𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆, stranger things

⠀ six. silence quite this loud

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˚⋆ ┊ ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING ┊ ⋆˚
☆⋅⋆ ─ act i. don't you want me, baby?

CHAPTER SIX - silence quite this loud
( episode three ; the pollywog )

❀

⠀ ⠀ THE FAMILIAR SPINNING OF A REGRETFUL HANGOVER was what awoke Peyton on November 1st of 1984. Cool fingertips pressing into her forehead, she forced herself to sit up, scanning the room only to be filled with an unsettling sense of dread. She hadn't been led to her own home that night. No, this was something much worse.

Memories fragmented like glass shards that felt impossible to piece together without getting hurt. The winter sun had risen on the Byers' home that morning, seeping through the gaps in the living-room curtains as Peyton soon realized she was, in fact, lying on a couch, not a bed. Still in her costume from the night before, although make-up and hair were severely smudged and knotted, the exhausted blonde slowly slid from the sofa to the floor, trying her best not to make a sound.

This wasn't the first time she'd spent the night at the Byers' home. In fact, family 'sleepovers' had become an unfortunate yet regular occurrence in both of their family homes. She knew for a fact that there would be spare clothes for school in Will's bedroom. However, that risked waking the youngest Byers boy, who had severe trouble sleeping anyway. Shuffling quietly through the halls, Peyton's worry soon became reality when she found that Will had awoken anyway, prior to her attempt to stay quiet.

"Hey," she whispered, jacket tightly gripped between folded arms as she leaned against the doorframe, "You supposed to be up at this time?" eyes darting to the clock to find that, being 6am, she'd only managed to get just over three and a half hours of sleep. It also meant she didn't have long before everybody else in the house had to be up and ready for work/school.

"Are you?" the preteen fired back, although there was no maliciousness behind his words. Proud yet amused smile plastered on her features, Peyton pretended to glare in a way she knew would put a grin on Will's face.

"Touché, little man," crossing the room, Peyton crouched down to sift through the cluttered bottom shelf containing spare clothes that she could only hope Joyce had been kind enough to wash. Opting for the smell test, Peyton deemed the clothes she had picked out clean enough with a quick shrug, getting to her feet to see Will had been watching her with a completely befuddled expression the entire time.

"What happened to your face?" Peyton froze. She'd somehow managed to forget that getting punched in the face several times was bound to leave some kind of mark. She only hoped it was the kind that was easy to lie her way out of with an I tripped or It was an accident.