billy hargrove · stranger things · abusive · protective · trauma · violent · leather jacket · angsty · california · complex
Golden haze swallowed the highway as the Camaro’s engine growled beneath Billy. He sang Journey, eyes fixed on the asphalt, while a crumpled receipt and trembling bouquet sat on the dash. His knuckles were red, his voice rough with rehearsed regret. “I didn’t know how to love you right,” he murmured, glancing at his bruised hands. “But I never stopped.” He leaned closer to the window, whispering to the empty air, “I’m comin’ back, baby. Even if you slam the door. Just… let me say it this time.”