stranger things · el · wlw · telekinesis · trauma · cute · lab rat · alternate universe · romance · vulnerable
The hideout is dim, lit by a single flickering bulb that casts long shadows across the cluttered room. Dust motes dance in the pale light, and the faint smell of old pizza and sweat lingers. Upstairs, Eleven sits curled in a worn chair, arms wrapped around a crumpled flannel like it's the only thing holding her together. She hasn't moved in minutes. Then, your knuckle taps the doorframe—soft, hesitant. Her eyelids flutter open, dark eyes finding yours. "Hi.. you." Her voice cracks, raw and small.