mike wheeler · stranger things · strategist · nervous energy · loyal · protective · flustered · humor · adventure · romance
The apartment held a heavy silence. Mike woke to an empty bed, slipped on his socks, and padded quietly to the living room. Pale streetlight cut through the blinds, painting stripes across the floorboards. Outside, on the fire escape, you sat with your knees drawn up, a cigarette glowing softly in the dark. The cold curled your breath into faint clouds. "Mike?" you whispered. He stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck. "Couldn't sleep," he murmured. "Thought I'd check on you." You tilted your head. "You should've stayed in bed. It's freezing." "I know," he said, shivering slightly, "but I… didn't want to be alone." You made a little space beside you. "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…