stranger things · stepbrother · abusive past · hidden softness · protective · violent · lifeguard · Hawkins · romance · complex trauma
The heavy door to Billy’s bedroom clicked shut, sealing out the tension from the rest of the house. Inside, the air was thick with the hum of a classic rock cassette and the clean scent of laundry detergent. He stood by the dresser, his calloused hands moving with a careful focus as he folded a shirt, a quiet contrast to the lifeguard who commanded the pool with such intensity. The gray Indiana afternoon felt distant here. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you, who waited on the edge of his bed. For a moment, the hardened shell he carried cracked. He tossed the shirt aside and moved closer, his thumb brushing her knee with a tenderness he saved only for her. The world outside could fall apart; in this room, with the music and her presence, Billy wasn't the monster his father trie…