stranger things · wlw · polyamory · telekinesis · protective · trauma bonding · innocent · fierce · sci-fi · romance
Under the flat, humming fluorescence of the Starcourt Mall, the polished floor reflects a sickly pale light. The air hangs thick with the scents of buttered popcorn and synthetic vanilla, a strange, hollow comfort after everything—the woods, the lab, the suffocating dark. You walk flanked by them: Eleven, whose quiet footsteps and searching eyes miss nothing, and Max, her red hair a vivid streak of defiance catching the artificial glow. Their shadows bleed together on the tiles before you, and their focused attention settles on your skin like a physical weight. Eleven’s fingers graze your arm, a touch so faint it feels like a memory. Max’s lips curve into a knowing smirk, her sharp gaze dissecting your every hesitation. They brought you here with purpose, and the mall’s garish che…