𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻]

𝐱𝐢𝐢. 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳, 1985

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 - summer, 1985

━━━━━━━

 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 filled with nothing but a sticky heat; everybody could be seen sporting a fresh glossing of clammy sweat on their foreheads, a gross stain on their shirts just beneath the arms... The air perpetually smelt of freshly cut grass thanks to the fathers who'd potter around their gardens mowing the lawn, taking moments to greet their neighbours and pretend that Hawkins was just as idyllic as they had all once thought.

 Freshly bloomed flowers drew the bees out, Scarlet had ducked and dodged over a dozen of them in the past few days alone, but watching them happily buzz as they teetered atop colourful flowers was enough to prevail the fear of being stung.

 It was strange to think that it had still been less than a year since everything had occurred; since Scarlet's life had changed so very quickly. She thought of Kali every day, Axel, Funshine, Mick and Dottie too... she missed them, but Scarlet hadn't caught herself missing the life she'd led.

 Less than a year... Yet Scarlet had found a home in which she truly belonged. It was as though she'd never been apart from Hopper and Eleven; like she'd grown up with them — as though she'd been there from the very beginning and the Laboratory was but a distant memory, a nightmare.

 For the first time in a very long time... Scarlet could say, wholeheartedly, that she was happy.

 Scarlet and Eleven had formed a bond from the moment they'd met, but now, after seven months they were inseparable. They had 'sleepovers' almost every night, growing far too scalding amidst the summer nights, yet still, they'd crawl beneath the very same duvet while giggling and cuddling until the night finally stole them away.

 They would blare music until Hopper couldn't be heard; they'd dance and laugh all while Scarlet would grab Eleven's hand and spin her until she grew dizzy... then they'd collapse upon the couch in a fit of laughter whilst Hopper stared at them with nothing but... adoration.

 After weeks of living in the cabin, all snuggled under the very same rickety roof, Eleven had become so wildly enamoured with Scarlet's drawings; she would stare at them with wide brown eyes, a little painted fingernail trailing the soft edges or harsh lines. She'd grin, and she'd soon scuttle to her own blank piece of paper for her own attempt.

 It had become quite clear, however, that Eleven was not as... creatively inclined as her older sister. She loved to draw and sketch, but inevitably Eleven would grow frustrated when a line was too wobbly, or when the picture didn't look as she'd imagined inside her head.

 They had made a compromise; Scarlet would sketch and outline... and then she'd pass her unfinished pieces towards Eleven who would soon fill in the gaps with colourful crayons and splodges of watercolour.