❝ 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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IT WAS AN ACT OF DANGEROUS POSSIBILITY to barge into her brother's room with only a quick knock at the door, but Mel's insanity had turned to urgency. Urgency that knew no danger.
"Jeez—! I could've been naked!" spat Dominic, very much clothed. He was sprawled out over his bed, under a collage of Star Trek posters and album covers tacked up the slanted wall with glow-in-the-dark constellation stickers to fill the gaps. Now he was propped up on his palms, abandoning a Mad Magazine over the side of his bed in a flutter of airborne pages.
"Dom, I need you," Mel stated. She was practically out of breath, only coming from next door. Dom only sent her a strange look that dimpled his plump cheeks. From her perspective, his eyes were just about always in a state of narrowed frustration under chunks of straight black bangs cut by their mother.
"Pardon?" He asked, sarcastically dragging out the word.
"You know how to use a microfiche reader, right?"
With a smug 'tsk', he answered, "Obviously."
"Then I need you. Come on." And Mel disappeared back into the hall. Over her shoulder, she could hear Dom's heavy sigh and the sound of him throwing himself out of bed. He had a way of making it sound a lot more strenuous than it was.
Soon enough, his attitude faded as the siblings pushed through the tall doors of Hawkins Public Library.
At the back of the building stood the large wooden filing cabinet where microfiche sheets were kept neatly sorted. The ungodly amount of dust in the air painted it like some sort of abandoned death chamber, but Mel knew better than that. She was out of her depth, sure, but there was bound to be something of use in those files. She needed a bridge of stability back. A brick, a board, a twig, anything. As soon as Mel approached the cabinet, she paused. A second of careful calculation and she pulled open the 'H' drawer. Her fingers carded through the tabs as though each was hot to the touch.
