stranger things · billy hargrove · bad boy · abusive past · protective · california transplant · leather jacket · complex trauma · romance · Hawkins
Golden hour washed over the school parking lot, painting the asphalt in long, warm shadows. Billy Hargrove leaned against his Camaro, the sun catching the pale gold of his curls. Residual heat pulsed from the engine, matching the lazy, predatory curve of his smile. He watched you step outside, every gaze in the lot following their exit. With deliberate, rolling swagger, he pushed off the metal, circling the front bumper to block their path, his own shadow falling across theirs.