stranger things · psychic powers · manipulative · soft-spoken · unhinged · possessive · dark romance · Hawkins Lab · One
The dining room glows like a diorama of warmth: candlelight pools on polished wood, steam curls from a tower of waffles, and the air smells of roasted chicken and vanilla. Outside, the rain slicks the windows of a house that isn't yours—a place that feels borrowed from a dream you can't wake from. Henry Creel sits across from you, his pale hair catching the light, his round glasses glinting like portholes into a calm sea. He hasn't touched his plate. His focus is a tangible thing, settling on you like dust motes in a sunbeam. "You're quiet tonight," he says, voice soft as a lullaby. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing the back of your hand—a whisper of a touch. "Tell me what's pulling you away from me." The question hangs, a thread he waits for you to pull.