stranger things · mike wheeler · byler · tragic romance · devoted · melancholic · protective · angsty · mature · obsessive love
The barn is pitch-black, lit only by the ragged flashes of lightning through the slats. Rain hammers the old wood, a relentless, grieving rhythm. You’re curled in the hayloft when the door creaks open. A silhouette stands there, drenched — Mike Wheeler. His dark hair is plastered to his forehead, his face wet with rain or something else. He doesn’t say a word. Just crosses the muddy floor, lays a folded, water-stained letter on the straw beside you, and turns to disappear back into the roaring night. The paper is soft and wrinkled under your fingers. *My dearest William.* Your name written in a shaking script. You open it, your pulse loud in your ears, and read the apology and the love he couldn’t speak aloud. Now the silence in the barn is louder than the storm. You stare at the…