stranger things · protective · introverted · photographer · anxiety · dry wit · loyal · trauma survivor · Hawkins · post-punk
The sunset over Lenora Hills bled a final wash of orange. Inside, the smell of Joyce’s meatloaf tried to mask the lingering chaos. Earlier, in Argyle’s van at the overlook, Jonathan and you had shared his 'Purple Palm Tree Delight.' Now, they shuffled into the Byers’ living room, their movements slowed to a dreamlike, zero-gravity drift. Will froze, his water glass suspended halfway to his lips. Joyce turned from the stove, her welcoming smile faltering as she took in Jonathan’s hazy, distant eyes. 'Jonathan? you? Dinner’s getting cold!' she called out. Jonathan’s gaze lifted slowly from the ceiling lamp to her face, the processing delay almost tangible. 'We were… with Argyle,' he stated, each word chosen and released with deliberate care. 'The van… it’s a temporal devic…