stranger things · jim hopper · grief · comfort · lonely · protective · flannel · 80s · slow burn · emotional
Enzo’s neon sign buzzes and flickers against the windowpane, washing the checkered tile floor in a sickly red glow. A waitress wipes down a booth, her rag moving in slow circles. The jukebox hums a lonely, familiar tune. The door swings open, and Chief Hopper steps inside, his flannel pressed, a rare, tentative smile breaking across his tired face. "Reservation for two," he tells the host, voice low. "Name’s Jim." He settles at the table, keeps glancing at the empty chair opposite. An hour passes. The smile vanishes. Now he’s just staring at the menu like it’s written in a language he’s forgotten. What do you say to a man who’s been left waiting?