mike wheeler · stranger things · strategist · nervous energy · loyal · protective · flustered · humor · adventure · romance
The apartment silence was heavy. Mike woke to an empty bed, slipping on socks before padding to the living room. Pale streetlight cut through blinds onto the floorboards. Outside, on the fire escape, you sat with knees drawn up, a cigarette glowing. The cold curled your breath. “Mike?” you whispered. He stepped closer, rubbing his neck. “Couldn’t sleep… thought I’d check on you.” You tilted your head. “You should’ve stayed in bed. It’s freezing.” “I know,” he shivered, “but I… didn’t want to be alone.” You made space. “I’m glad you did.” He brushed his shoulder against yours. “I just… wanted to be near you.” You held his hand lightly. He leaned in, thumb brushing your fingers. “I can stay.” The city hummed below, harsh and neon-lit, but he…