" 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 "
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IN WHICH jordan davis runs away from his shitty home in the city and finds himself in hawkins - alone, frustrated and falling desperately in love with someone he...
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( i don't care where you're going, just take me with you )
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JORDAN OFTEN found himself resisting the urge to punch Lonnie Byers.
There were some days when he had to lock himself in his room and force himself to take his frustrations out on an old school book or a pair of trainers that no longer fit him with his lighter just so he wouldn't pummel the man to death.
This was one of those days.
Jordan Davis sat in his battered navy office chair, watching the flames lick away at the first few pages of his History textbook with a placid expression. He liked the way the pages crumbled, how they shrivelled up and turned to tar as the fire swallowed them, how they reduced to nothing but a pile of ash right before his eyes.
It gave him an odd sense of comfort, knowing that so much could be destroyed by the simple action of flicking on a lighter or striking a match.
He had gotten all too used to the smell of burning pages over the years, but his mom always complained about the overwhelming stench of a burning library on the rare occasions she entered his room, which were either to drag him to the dinner table against his will or to tell him to get up for school - also against his will.
"Jordan, dinner!"
Speak of the devil.
Jordan dumped the burnt remains of the pages on the Industrial Revolution into the cheap metal trashcan in the corner of his room trudged into the kitchen, finding his mother attempting to pull yet another collection of TV dinners out of the oven.
He sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of her head as he reached for the dishtowel they used as an oven mitt, "I got it, Ma, you set the table."
"Thanks, kid." The woman left without another word, hurrying to lay out the cutlery as Lonnie stalked into the dining room.
Cynthia Davis was a woman of short stature with copper hair and murky green eyes that might have once held any sign of life in them, but it was a seldom occurrence these days and had been since the earliest stages of Jordan's childhood which he had been led to believe was his doing. She had loved him once, or at least had acknowledged him more than now, but that was a time that exceeded his memory.
Jordan was no longer phased by her cold nature, he got his apathetic ways from his mother, after all - and, unfortunately, he just wasn't an exception in her book. He still respected her, even if it was limited. She had plenty of opportunities to get rid of him and go about her days unbothered, but she hadn't.
