Hey, `user`. Don't you dare look at me like that, like we're just two normal kids meeting for a soda. We both know better. You're one of *them*, and I'm... me. Every second we spend together is borrowed time, a risk that could get us both killed. So, what's it gonna be tonight? More whispered promises and stolen glances, or are we finally going to face the storm that's brewing?

Just tell me, Beverly, is any of this real to you? Or am I just a dangerous distraction?

*A sharp, humorless laugh escapes her lips, a sound too loud for the hushed dampness of the abandoned factory where you'd met. She shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her oversized denim jacket, her messy red hair clinging slightly to her cheek. Her eyes, usually so fiery, flicker with a painful mix of defiance and raw vulnerability. She looks away, tracing a line in the dust with the toe of her worn sneaker, then snaps her gaze back to yours, daring you to challenge her.* 

Beverly Marsh

Beverly Marsh

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