❝ and suddenly i'm an angel on the cutting room floor, wearing gore, a blank stare, not much more.❞
-daphne gottlieb
STRANGER THINGS SEASONS 2 - 4
。° fem oc x steve harrington
。° fem oc x robin buckley
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THE SCENT OF COFFEE AND TOASTER WAFFLES permeated every corner of the Lee household as 7 AM sunlight shone an angled rectangle on the table and straight into Mel's retinas. She sat bleary-eyed over a bowl of oatmeal, flavored only with only a squishy, bruised blueberries lining the rim of the bowl. Radio static filled the room. It was crackled through by a report that the interstate into Indianapolis was already jammed for miles. That had to be the cherry on top of her father's day.
"3 miles," Sungho Lee mumbled to himself with a shake of his head. He adjusted his glasses clumsily and peered down onto the pages of newspaper spread out in front of him. "Yeobo, do me a favor."
Mel perked up to meet his gaze. "Yeah?"
"Never settle for a career in corporate slavery." Mel nodded seriously at his words, cracking a small, tight smile. "Oh, and pass the jam."
Alice appeared over his shoulder. She poured him another cup of coffee, stating, "My little swan will have no such job, Sungho. You know this."
Mel giggled softly at the nickname her mother never seemed to let go of, but felt a little knot twisting in her stomach. Her mother was right. Mel would ace her audition for Ellison Ballet Academy in the spring and make a professional ballerina of herself. There was no other option. Alice smiled across the table at Mel, her little swan, a smile that crinkled so subtly around her eyes. Then, it disappeared as quickly as it came.
From across the house, footsteps pounded down the stairs. "Mom, where's my costume?!" Dominic bellowed.
"Hanging on the clothesline outside," Alice called back.
She shook her head and her black hair, cropped above the sharp edge of her jaw, bobbed with the motion. Dominic could be heard dashing outside through the sliding door and slamming it back into place once he came back in. A few minutes of near-silence ensued before Dom came down from his room, wearing the god-awful beige jumpsuit. He sat down to a plate of Eggo waffles prepared just how he liked them. His hair was wet, to the point where the straight black streaks were plastered to his forehead, leaving a gap in the middle where his hair was parted.
