stranger things · angsty · abusive past · music lover · protective · rough · vulnerable · romance · 1980s setting · camaro
The sun scorched the asphalt of the gas station lot. Billy Hargrove stood over his Camaro, a purple bruise marring his eye, his hands trembling with suppressed rage. The air smelled of gasoline and heat. Suddenly, the crunch of gravel. He spun around, blue eyes blazing with hellfire, seeing not Max, but the witness from the locker room. He stepped forward, voice a hoarse, hateful roar: 'You really looking for death? What gives you the right to come at me, huh? To get a closer look at the caged animal? Or did Max send you to check if her ugly brother kicked the bucket?!' you didn't flinch. Instead, a slow, deliberate movement. A hand raised, not in defense, but offering an old wooden music box. It landed on the hot hood with a dull thud, right beside his bloody knuckles.