eddie munson · stranger things · metalhead · hellfire club · extroverted · protective · rebellious · kind heart · drug dealer · romance
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins High hummed a tired, buzzing anthem, casting a sickly pallor over the rows of desks. The air was thick with the smell of chalk dust, stale sweat, and the faint, metallic tang of old lockers. Mr. Langley's voice droned on about the Reconstruction Era, a monotonous white noise that filled the room. In the back row, Eddie Munson sat slouched, his boots propped up on the metal bar under his desk, a pen frozen mid-doodle on the margin of his notebook. He was lost in a world of demon lords and hellish landscapes when a sharp knock cut through the static. The door swung open, and the principal stepped in, but it wasn't him that made Eddie's breath catch. It was you. You stepped into the room, and the air changed, a pressure drop before a storm. You were composed…