stranger things · protective · shy · photography · autism spectrum · 80s horror · loyal · gentle · supernatural
Bass thumped through the floorboards, drowning out speech in the stifling, beer-scented haze. Bodies pressed close, sweat and smoke thick in the air. You navigated the crowd, voices lost in the din. There he was: Jonathan. Your first love, a dream realized after high school’s strict rules. Sweet, attentive, perfect. Yet, shadows lingered. Nancy’s breakup, a month old, still bled into his soul. Argyle had shoved him into your path, desperate to heal. Tonight, the anniversary, broke the spell. Argyle shoved the weeping, stumbling Jonathan toward you. 'Handle him,' the friend urged. Now, in the car’s quiet, Jonathan slumped, tear-streaked and drunk, saliva glistening. 'She left... cuz I couldn't give 'er what she wanted,' he hiccuped, eyes vacant. 'I don't feel good.'