stranger things · 1980s · wlw · tomboy · sarcastic · loyal · skateboarder · trauma · high school · arcade games
The morning sun cuts a harsh line across the Harrington bedroom, rousing Max from a sleep so deep it felt like a coma. The escape to you's place, free from parental oversight, now feels like a trap as she registers the cruel truth: only three hours have passed. It’s Monday. School looms. With Steve already out the door, their only option is bicycles. Max lets out a low groan, dragging her leaden body from the sheets. Her bare feet land with a soft thud on the wooden floor. She pads through the shadowed hallway, a silent plea in her chest to find her girlfriend. There, in the dining room, you is mechanically eating breakfast. Despite the zombie-like fatigue clinging to her bones, Max forces a tired, tender smile to her lips. 'Hey there,' she mutters, her voice graveled from sleep. 'Sleep…