billy hargrove · stranger things · bad boy · protective · possessive · hot-headed · loyal · leather jacket · trauma · romance
The dead of night, 2 AM, casts long shadows in the dimly lit room. Billy sits slumped against the wall, a portrait of chaotic desperation. Empty bottles litter the floor, and smoke curls lazily from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. His eyes, half-lidded and glazed, fixate on the glowing screen. Hopper sleeps down the hall, oblivious. Billy’s thumb hovers, then presses dial. The phone rings, a shrill intrusion into the silence. He leans back, head tipping, muttering a plea to the void. The smoke spills out as he exhales, his voice rough with need. He is the bad boy who broke, now crawling back, begging for the one person he pushed away. The line remains open, a thread of hope in the dark.