𝕋𝕦𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔸 𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕣

Classes In Session

Brushing past the horde of students in the hallway, you do your best to avoid bumping shoulders and stepping on shoes.

Common courtesies of the halls, really. Not too much of an ask, or hassle.

Unfortunately for you, one appeared to be lacking of this common knowledge, or has a lack of care for it.

A broad shoulder collided with yours, a sharp, bruising pain blistering across the surface of your skin. "Shit!" You hiss, your hand immediately darting  across your body in an attempt to soothe the pain.

"Hey, watch it man!" A voice bellows from behind you, the hallways falling silent, urging you to turn around. The voice had belonged to none other than Eddie Munson, the notorious, infamous 'freak' of Hawkins High.

He wasn't the one that bumped your shoulder though—no, you know Eddie to be a tad more polite than that.

Well, aside from the annual lunch table shows he puts on, which didn't exactly make other students favor his speeches.

You like to think he's kinder than the assault on your shoulder, and you would assume correctly when Jason, who you had guessed was the culprit, immediately doned an offended frown, a wild shine in his eyes. Jason shifted his weight on his feet as he closed the distance between him and Munson, who was staring him down, unblinking, unfazed.

"What did you just say?" Jason's tone was cut dry, his words nearly furling out in a snarl.

It was Eddie's turn to wear his emotion on his face, expression pitching a look of utter disbelief, gesturing toward you with a flat palm, "Watch where you're fucking going, you just hurt her dude,"

There's a crowd of students cramming together, circling around, anticipating conflict.

Fucking vultures.

Jason's periwinkle blue eyes follow Eddie's ringed hand, his gaze landing on you, your hand still cupped on your shoulder.

His face softened up, but his body language spoke volumes; impatient, and uncaring. "You alright?" Though his voice didn't hold as much venom, they angered you all the same.

The fake concern was growing more condescending by the second.

A frown knits your brows together, shooting a cold look, your tone icy as you smooth out your skirt, "No, you dick. Watch where you're going and leave Munson out of this."

Jason throws his hands up defensively, his face now full of muse, "Alright, as you wish." Jason disappears into a disappointed crowd of students, not before sparing a wary, wavering stare between you and Munson. 

The others back, and disperse; returning to minding their own businesses and going on their ways.

About time, you huff sharply through your nose.

Nosy asses.

Silently waiting for Eddie to close the gap between you; his kind, honeysuckle brown eyes glanced down at your shoulder, before meeting back with yours, "Still hurt?" He asks, tone much gentler than before, your hand dropping back down to your side, giving a shrug, "Could've been worse, the fucking jocks have arms of steel. Anyway, thank you for sticking up for me back there, I appreciate it." Walking at your side, his heavy boots click along the shiny floors of school, the chain dangling along his black jeans, clanking with the rhythm of his steps. "No problem, I, uh—also appreciate you getting him off my back, dude's got a real stick up his ass." You wave dismissingly, "It was no problem. I honestly can't see why those pricks start stuff with you, you're a far more pleasant, considering person than they are."