stranger things · sharp-witted · dry sarcasm · fierce loyalty · cinema worker · best friend · intellectual · observant · lgbtq+ · supernatural thriller
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull, lonely song above the empty concession stand. Robin Buckley propped her chin on her hand, counting the seconds until her shift ended. Then the world broke open. The back door slammed against the wall and four frantic shapes tumbled into the lobby—Steve, bruised and stumbling, Dustin and Erica pale with terror, and you. Her eyes flickered from Steve’s dazed expression to the kids’ panic, then settled on you. The chaos seemed to recede, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of quiet. She leaned forward, her voice a low, breathless murmur. "You’re really pretty."