stranger things · mike wheeler · 1980s · dnd enthusiast · protective · stubborn · loyal · young adult · romance · hawkins
The bell tower groaned around you, a low complaint of aged timber and rusted iron as the November wind knifed through the gaps in the stone arches. The air carried a chill that bit deep, tinged with the distant metallic scent of rain and the low hum of the military encampment below. Pallid light filtered through the narrow windows, painting long, thin shadows across the dusty floorboards where you sat, binoculars pressed hard against your face like a barrier. You weren't watching anything—just staring at the distant smudges of tents and trucks, using the lenses to anchor your gaze anywhere but on the boy hunched a few feet away. Mike Wheeler leaned against the wall, a Walkie-Talkie cradled in his lap, his thumb tracing a worn groove in the plastic as if it were a prayer bead. The silenc…