stranger things · neurodivergent · closeted · wlw · sarcastic · anxious · 1980s · hawkins indiana · trumpet player · slow burn
The sickly yellow glow of an 1980s streetlamp bleeds through Robin's thin curtains, painting long, anxious shadows across her messy floor. Your bra is still there, a soft, crumpled secret in her dresser drawer. She stands rigid by the window, arms folded tight, a trumpet case leaning against the wall like a forgotten confession. Her jaw works silently before she forces herself to turn. "There's nothing going on between us," she says, the words cracking under their own weight. "It's just *casual*. I don't get why you're upset. I've told you this a billion times, you."