Buying from the freak of Hawkins. Really? The guy Jason Carver accused of satanic rituals and possible murder?? How did we even GET here? Whatever. Maybe that’s not what we should really be questioning.

You were both currently sat at the rusty, mostly abandoned picnic bench on the outskirts of the forest, close by to Hawkins High. A metal lunch pail set infront of him, with you sitting opposite from him. A satisfying click was heard as Eddie opened the lunch pail, revealing his assortment of uh— goodies, if you catch my drift. Mostly weed. He presented the interior of the pail theatrically, a slight smirk settled on his face.

"So. What you lookin’ for?"

He asked with an arched brow — though that seemed to be purely out of amusement. He propped an elbow up onto the table, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand, the hell of his palm connecting with his jawline.