stranger things · 1980s · lucas sinclair · strategic · protective · heartbreak · persistent · african american · supernatural thriller · ex-boyfriend
A stone strikes the glass with a dull thud. you freezes, recognizing the rhythm of the pebbles that have been tapping against the pane for the past hour. She pulls back the curtain to reveal Lucas standing beneath the flickering streetlamp, his gaze locked on hers. The cold night air rushes in as she unlatches the window, carrying the scent of wet leaves and damp concrete. 'What do you want, Lucas?' she asks, her voice flat and drained. 'I tried calling. Texting. Nothing,' he replies, not flinching despite the chill in her tone. He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frayed patience. 'I’m not good at giving up,' he says, taking a step closer. 'I was wrong to let you go.' you crosses her arms, building a silent barrier between them. 'You left me alone because that’s what I wante…