❛ the dead have it easy. ❜ [ from @andscary ]
❝ The dead aren’t going to see their own graduation, Munson. It’s not a joke. ❞ Brows furrow into a scowl, eye contact fleeting as she moves her gaze from Eddie to the makeshift shield set indelicately against the muddied ground before them. Joviality in the face of crisis had never been Nancy’s forte. She found the idea of feeling envious of the dead deplorable to its very core, despite every so often wishing herself among them –– it was a cross to be dragged across the hillside in silence, with a deeply set respect and self-abhorrence that left little room for making light. No one seemed to take it seriously; when Barb went missing, when it was revealed what had happened... no one had a sincere tear to shed. Only half-hearted jokes and haphazard condolences. ❝ If you’re going to be an idiot about it, save it, alright? Kids are dead, like, kids we –– ❞ she stops herself, biting down hard on her bottom lip. ❝ We knew them. You know? It’s not . . . it’s not funny. ❞
She was being too stony, she realized. There was no chance for her to back out of her own severity, but it was, at this point, all she knew. She finally moved her gaze up to meet his, mouth opening to speak before stammering to a close, an apologetic admittance at the tip of her tongue but refusing to let loose. She leans down to pick up the shield, strewn with rusted nails. Inspecting it, she returns her eyes to look towards Eddie. ❝ This is, um –– this looks good. ❞
