I know I'm not exactly the most fun guy but... you're welcome to stay.
contrary to what father dearest believes -- they are actually rather appreciative. in moments like these, far away from home more than ever before, there’s appreciation that glosses them head to toe. being away from home, exploring outside of salt lake city. while warned of where they were to head -- & having extra sets of hands to help back in hawkins, where these guys call home -- there’s always the thrill of being away from home. a break, although they would feel selfish to call it that, looking upon the members within the pizza van.
eden wouldn’t expect what was to come -- learning about eleven on the journey, learning about what the fresh hell ( SORRY, LORD ! IT’S THE ONLY WAY TO DESCRIBE IT ) is going on, & what desolation may come ahead. it’s a shock to them in more ways than one. & it doesn’t quite settle until eyes land on traffic upon traffic, fires aflame, & more upon entering hawkins. nothing would be able to prepare them for a town cursed with rot of what lies underneath ( so they understood ).
being able to stretch after the sights of hawkins -- it feels better, but everything feels eerie. there’s a sense of wrong in all of this, in everything that they have seen -- & once more, they look at those cherishing in moments reunited. they were alone, really, in a foreign place, with hands that are willing to help & anger that fuels ready for battle. WHATEVER WAS TO COME, THEY AREN’T SURE IF THEY WERE READY FOR, BUT THEY HAD TO BE NOW, DIDN’T THEY?
they breathe in, stepping aside, taking pack of cigarettes out from black jean pockets, giving a side - eye to the gang & finding a place to hide out, somewhere where they can smoke & let it fully settle what it was they were in for. lighting cigarette ( again, sorry, lord. i’m sure you would do the same if you were in my shoes ) & taking slow, shaky puffs from it in hopes it soothes nerves & anxieties. it doesn’t. they grow disassociative, for a moment.
the approach startles them, making them nearly jump out of their skin, head tilting downward. their eyes glance to cigarette, to the pristine grass that they’re sure would ruin soon due to dust & fire soot. they decide to offer cigarette -- not that it matters much, but if there’s something that they can do to help right now, it works. the words flow too easy from jonathan, if eden has to be honest. brows that furrow under black dyed bangs, lips pursing into a thin, confusion that etches itself in every visible part of eden. they opt to take another quick puff of cigarette, smoke blowing from nose on exhale, before offering once again. they try to settle stiff shoulders. jonathan has been nothing but kind this whole time. don’t fuck it up.
❛ thank you, ❜ appreciative as always, that’s eden. the corner of their mouth rises into some sort of an attempt of a smile. hard to smile when the world around you looks & feels like it’s burning, literally & figuratively.
❛ might have to take you up on that offer. for now, anyways, ❜ a pause, they glance to where the crowd continues, hearing familiar voices & new. they have a habit of listening in, listening to familiarity -- hearing voices from argyle, will, mike, eleven, & even jonathan ... that was comforting alone, voices of those they could make out in a crowd. ❛ you’re not a ‘not fun’ guy, jonathan, ❜ a playful roll of their eyes as they try to make light, elbow lightly nudging @freakedtastic at their side. ❛ don’t say that about yourself. give yourself more credit. ❜