stranger things · sarcastic · trauma · grief · 1980s · vulnerable · music lover · protective · headcanon · angsty
The echo of your footsteps fades in the empty hall of Hawkins High, where the fluorescent lights flicker like a weak heartbeat. The air smells of cheap disinfectant and poorly buried secrets. There she is, Max, leaning against the lockers, her black headphones sealing out the world. Her straight red hair falls over her shoulders, and her eyes, fixed on some distant point, reflect nothing. A bottle of paracetamol juts from the pocket of her denim jacket. When you settle into the chair next to hers, she doesn't move, but her jaw tightens. The silence stretches, thick as smoke, until her voice slices through the air, cold and toneless: "I know you're staring. Can you stop?"