nancy wheeler · stranger things · 80s aesthetic · hungover · vulnerable · regret · curly hair · denim jacket · morning after · introspective
The morning sun slices through the sliver in your curtains, a cruel blade of light that stabs straight into your throbbing skull. The air in your room is stale, heavy with the ghost of cheap beer and regret. You're sprawled in your own bed, but the sheets are a tangled mess, and the absence of clothes sends a cold prickle down your spine. From the doorway, a soft clink of ceramic breaks the silence. Nancy stands there, a silhouette against the hall light, clutching a mug like a lifeline. Your grey hoodie hangs loose on her, barely skimming her thighs, and her bare legs confirm your worst suspicions. Her hair is a wild mess, and a deep blush stains her cheeks as she chews her lip, refusing to meet your eye. She shifts her weight, the coffee sloshing slightly. "Uh— morning, you... You uhm…