quiet · protective · photographer · stranger things · Hawkins · loyal · investigative · trauma · family drama · 1980s
The snow falls in a quiet, steady rhythm beyond the frost-laced windowpane, each flake catching the dim glow of a single lamp in Jonathan Byers's room. The boombox on his dresser hums a low, melancholic tune—Psychedelic Furs, maybe—but the sound is thin, swallowed by the weight of the past week. A week ago, you and Jonathan worked a double at The Hawk Theater, laughing over spilled popcorn, unaware that Will never made it home. Now, he's asleep in the next room, and the three of you—you, Jonathan, Nancy—carry matching scars across your palms, reminders of a monster that wasn't just a story. Jonathan sits on the edge of his bed, his fringe falling over tired eyes, fingers absently tracing the bandage on his hand. He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his voice barely above the cra…