oh please, don't drop me home.

www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

― munson."

/god,/ she thinks. how lucky she is to have these people in her life.

― short and quiet but pulling her lips wide, bright eyes finding eddie's leveled gaze. she laughs again, like a giggle she can't quite stifle in the church pews.

"oh. so, you were judging /my/ taste, when you were out there with the most predictable crush by a /mile/? that's crazy work, ―

― speechless a moment longer, hackles slowly coming back down, something quiet and warm unweaving that mess of /badness/ tangled behind her sternum.

robin sits back in her chair, cheeks puffing out with an exhale as she drums her fingers just once on either armrest, and then -- a chuckle, ―

― metalhead, dungeons and dragons loving, back-from-the-goddamn-dead-as-a-vampire eddie munson that's carefully extending a hand, an olive branch across the divide of their small-minded town with the same casualty of /throwing a die at her/.

well...don't say robin never had a feeling.

she's ―

― hawkins high propped across from her, and she's spilling her bandaged heart out in a way she never has before, anxiety all twisted up in a knot in her chest, and steve says /oh/ and she feels like she might crack apart like porcelain.

but it's eddie munson across from her this time. it's ―

― together in the /romantic/ sense. seriously, can no one be friends these days? cigarette smoke is another distraction, a less-than favored smell that stains through her sinuses and -- and...

and it hits.

"...oh." suddenly, she's back sitting in a crowded bathroom stall with the once-king of ―

haven't had a dream in a long time.

www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

— sometimes, it’s not like she doesn’t have a good damn reason for it.”

she’s practically bleeding out. her mouth opens and closes a couple times before she settles, gaze fixated on the dice in eddie’s hand instead of his face.

“…i mean, seriously, you haven’t been away /that/ long.”

— face scrunches with a severe frown, throwing a hand up over one of her folded arms.

“stuck up? /come on/, eddie, i would’ve thought you’d know better by now. after everything. nancy’s probably the smartest, /strongest/ one here out of all of us, and if she comes off as uptight or even rude —

and heaven knows i'm miserable now.

www.tumblr.com/rocknrbin/80...

— throat.

“don’t be ridiculous. comparing /my/ tastes to /steve’s/ is an insult in itself.” sorry, nance.

— but there’s something startling in being /seen/, and she leans back with her arms crossed, guarded.

eddie…doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that cares. /hell/, if he doesn’t have a /vibe/, then robin needs to get her eyes checked. but the denial is instinctual, the taste of hot iron in her —

— /dead/, except…well.

— pretty calm for a while. kind of, disturbingly calm, right? i think el- er, jane, really scared him shitless this time. almost scared /me/, too. but…there’s a feeling, isn’t there? like an itch you can’t scratch.”

like nothing is ever really over. just like no one ever really seems to be —

— and sure, it’s not robin’s /ideal/ way of spending her night, but…what the hell else would she be doing?

it’s just. the /quiet/ is killing her.

finally, she clears her throat and glances at nancy under her lashes, tangling her fingers in the fraying threads of her jeans. “so…it’s all been —

— she looks at it for too long.

no, it’s nancy shotgun-wielding wheeler settled stone-faced across from her, ready to take on whatever evil dares to tear itself into their side of the world. like she has been for weeks.

and day after day, nothing. not since their last . . . trip. —

— loud, whistling in and out of her nose. the tap of fingers on a denim-covered knee is a metronome no one can follow.

and between all that, still, /silence/. the kind that has her blood rushing in her ears like a distant, running vehicle.

it’s not even the portal that unnerves her. only if —