SOLACE:
[noun] comfort in grief or misfortune; alleviation of anxiety
a source of relief or consolation
[transitive verb] to make cheerful; to soothe
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
✧Eddie Munson x female reader [y/n] [y...
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"Help me make the most of freedom & of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world"
You rhythmically tap your fingers on your steering wheel to the tune emitting from the radio. Around you, the conversations of classmates and hum of other car engines can be heard. You're sitting where you spend most mornings: Hawkins High parking lot.
It was only a week into the fall semester, but you're over it already. Though, it is your senior year. For others that fact ignited a fire in them, pushing head first into one final year. They were all jazzed to see their friends, take their last classes, and have the most fun possible before shipping off to college. That fire must've missed you entirely.
You felt completely and utterly exhausted. Even without managing six classes you were somehow burnt out by your own existence. The summer found you completely lacking the motivation to get out of bed. Deep down, you were aware that all the symptoms of depression and anxiety had peaked in you; opportunely now, for your last year of high school.
You'd always been a good student, academics coming naturally. Exerting effort into maintaining high grades was never required, but you always thought that it would catch up to you. Perhaps that's why now you were totally spent without much left to give.
Looking at your watch, you realized there were only ten minutes before the bell and hurried inside. Walking amongst the other students with your head low made you realize just how dead inside you really felt. All the popular kids in their green and yellow, repping for their sports game, cheer meet, or whatever it may be. Their sickly sweet, fake smiles made you bitter, not only out of dislike but jealousy for how their only worry was whose house party they were attending Friday night.
Of course, the halls were swamped with people of all different cliques, as a high school always is. Band geeks, snobs, theater kids, science nerds, goths, floaters, and burnouts. As you happened to look up, one of these druggies was walking at you on the opposite side of student traffic, face bright as he explained something to his bandmate.
Eddie Munson.
You knew the name and face simply because he had been an upperclassman for all of your years here. In fact, he was on his third senior year so you'd seen him around for more time than meant to. And god was he a total babe.
It made no sense to you how barely anyone gave him attention. Sure, he is dubbed "the freak" but could that really be too bad? You remember establishing a crush on him late in sophomore year when you watched him get a snack out of the vending machine.
You sat making up some work at a random bench late after the school day ended. He was there for that Dungeons & Dragons club meeting. The silver chains hanging from his dark jeans announced his approach. A black tee clung tightly to his tall, lanky frame as he crossed his arms and mindlessly pouted in front of the machine.
"Pretzels or Doritos?"
You looked up from your notebook, a bit frazzled. These brown, doe eyes were looking back expectantly under frizzy strands of fringe.
"Huh?" you managed a response, weakened by shyness.
"I don't know what to get," he clarified. His voice was unexpectedly gentle, and charming for some reason; completely not in line with his reputation.
"Um...pretzels. Definitely better and not all dusty," you told him. You observed as he nodded and punched the buttons. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels as he waited. You smiled to yourself, looking back to your paper. He is so cute.
The machine hummed as its metal spiral released the pretzels.
"Hah!" he exclaimed. "Stupid thing dropped two bags."
He pushed open the flap door to receive his prize and you watched a satisfied grin hold on his lips. He spun his heel to turn and meet your eyes again. It surprised you when he tossed one of the pretzel bags toward you.
"Great choice," he praised, still smiling, before shuffling down the hallway.
And that was the only direct interaction you'd ever had with Eddie. But in the two years since that, you always felt curious about him. He seemed so friendly, even sweet. Why did he have such a bad reputation? It helped too that you found him stunningly attractive. Anytime you saw him around school, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest.
So, as he passed you in the hallway and made eye contact, and he gave you a gentle smile, you couldn't conceal the one that formed on your lips. No matter how bad you did feel, there was something about him.
You arrived at your locker feeling slightly better than you had earlier that morning. Dumping off the textbooks you didn't need, the bell rang and signaled time for everyone to get their asses to class. A sick feeling pitted in your stomach, which you pushed down as you headed for your classroom.
You sighed once you were settled in your seat. Just one day at a time, if you can make it through this one period you can get through them all.