keeptheselights: (thinking)
No matter how busy they both are -- with school, with work -- they still try to make time for each other. They hang out, when she stays over at the house or he swings by the apartment, sure, and they meet for lunch or for coffee but, once a month or so, they go out on a proper date. They might both be too old for dating, both been around those houses one too many times, but Joyce doesn't care. It's her favourite thing.

And she's been planning this one for a while.

Honestly, she much prefers how teenagers dress now -- jeans and t-shirts, cute tops -- but she hopes that the outfit that she's picked out will strike a nostalgic note for Jim. She smoothes her pencil skirt over her stockings, straightens her sweater and waits for the familiar sound of the key she'd given him in the apartment door.
keeptheselights: (smiling)
It's the cheapest room that Kagura has, barely more than room for a bed and a dresser, a tv, a door the bathroom. It's cosy, sure, but it's also plush, and Joyce can't remember ever staying somewhere so nice before, not even when Lonnie took her to the city when they were first married. She slips out of her jacket, leaving her arms and shoulders bare and walks over to the window, taking in the view.

"This was a good idea," she says, glancing back over her shoulder, her dark hair tousled around her face.
keeptheselights: (Sir you are beautiful)
It takes her so long to get ready that she might as well be a teenager again. She dresses carefully, layering the lingerie that she'd cricled back to buy with a black velvet dress that's fitted across her chest and flared slightly around her thighs. She puts on heels and agonises, for a long moment, about which lipstick to choose before she goes for red.

She wants to be as far away from how worn down she's felt for a long time as she can. She wants to feel like she did when she was young, and full of promise.

Hopper wanted to pick her up but, because Will hasn't headed out yet, she'd said she'd meet him at the restaurant. She arrives early, standing outside with her arms folded against the cold, a cigarette between two fingers.

She's so nervous she actually laughs at herself.
Jesus.
keeptheselights: (Default)
Darrow isn't that different from Hawkins, not really. Yeah, it's over thirty years in the future, so the technology is a little bit confusing (and, honestly, the speed with which Will has taken to having a cellphone is baffling to her) and, yeah, she misses Jonathan like a part of her, like a limb, but there's enough familiar faces here to be a comfort and, at the end of day, it's just another small town, isn't it? Joyce knows small towns. She knows how they work.

Speaking of familiar faces. She picks up her cellphone and, after a moment, manages to make it light up long enough so that she can check the time. He's running late.

Of course he is.

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Joyce Byers

July 2024

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