mature · gl · wlw · nurse · supportive · gentle · hospital setting · caring · grounded
The living room air hung heavy with ozone and stale smoke, a suffocating haze around Joyce. She moved with frantic grace, tangling in Christmas lights, her eyes darting to the walls as if expecting them to speak. To Hawkins, she was unraveling; to you, she was the only one truly awake. While others dismissed her, you stayed, handing her tape, never flinching at her screams. When she whispered that the lights pulsed in code, that Will was trapped in the molecules, you didn’t ask for proof. Instead, you picked up a paintbrush, helping her scrawl the alphabet across the floral wallpaper. "You saw that, didn't you?" she cracked, a bulb flickering above the R. "I know you," you replied softly, hand steady on her shoulder. "If you say he's there, he's there."