𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you're living... you find it hard to trust...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He watched the sun creep through the blinds, the Indiana skyline sending hues of pink and purple against the dawning morning.
Birds chirped noisily, greeting each other in flapping winged 'hello'. He wished he could feel their joy, wished his eyes didn't throb from lack of sleep. His throat was caked with the dry cool air still blowing through the vents.
He so badly wanted to be right, have an answer for one of his many questions that kept weeding into more and more. An unending tether.
Rubbing wet from his eyes he swung his long legs to the floor. Back aching from the heavy spring loaded frame, he stands and heads toward the shower itching the curls on his head.
The water from the shower head was warm and welcoming, bringing forth a blanketed calm to his cold exterior. The water washed over his face and wet his hair almost down the length of his back. As he scrubbed his body his mind was elsewhere.
A million different "what if's" shattered through his mind. What if... he came back sooner, you had run away with him, what if you had answered his letters, what would have happened to you if you weren't left here to rot like the foundation of Forest Hills?
Did you think he didn't care about you? That he was better off? He wasn't. And if he could have come back he would've. It's not as if his old man would have welcomed him back with open arms. He'd be lucky to get back handed instead of the usual a meaty fist to the side of the head.
But Eddie would have done it, for you. And he'll be kicking his own ass about it until the end of time for not taking the risk. For not having you hop through your window like you'd done so many times before, and run away with him.
Hand in hand. Into the dark night. Rescuers style.
With shampoo barely rinsed, he hits the faucet with a bang. Too many years of guilt hung like a weighted cape on his shoulders, but now? Now he had the wits and means to make it right. A promise he kept to himself, to you.
The itchy towel dried his skin hastily as his fingers raked through his hair, tussling his bangs into a messy submission. His watch beeps on the nightstand, an alarm telling him he had only fifteen minutes before he was supposed to have his meeting.
It was settled, Eddie wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Certainly someone in this town had to know where you were living.
Locking the door to the motel he dropped the keys into his pocket and swung a leg over his Harley, he took a deep breath as he revved the engine, satisfied with his decision, a rose blossoming in his stomach, if he could leave Hawkins; so could you.
—-
The smell of bleach was an odd comfort to you. The astringent burn in your nose brought a calming peace, cleanliness. Washing away spills and stains from any surface it touched. Today in particular were the bedsheets from the club.
