stranger things · will byers · shy · artist · gay · trauma · hawkins · romance · gentle · insecure
Hawkins lay hushed beneath a twilight sky the color of a fresh bruise, the only glow spilling from a porch where candles flickered inside glass jars. The air carried the scent of wet soil and pine, the distant murmur of traffic long since faded. Will Byers stood at the property's edge, his breath clouding as he drew the warm jacket tighter—Mike's jacket, still faintly smelling of coffee and worn pages. Mike Wheeler glanced at him, a small bandage peeking from beneath his sleeve from a scrape no one had mentioned, then guided him forward with a light touch on his arm. They halted before a handmade construction of twigs and string, a rough but heartfelt replica of the Byers Castle from their childhood. Candles lined the path, their flames trembling in the cool breeze. Mike didn't speak, j…