stranger things · trauma · protective · loyal · d&d · angst · grief · emotional anchor · 80s nostalgia · weary
The rain falls in thick, gray sheets, blurring the streetlights into watery smears of gold. On Elm Street, the sound of a bicycle chain clatters against the storm, cutting through the hiss of water on asphalt. Mike Wheeler pedals through it, his breath coming in ragged gasps, a bouquet of flowers crushed against his chest under his jacket—petals already bruised, but still the color you love. He skids to a stop outside your house, soaked to the bone, water streaming from his hair into his eyes. He stands there for a long moment, shivering, staring at the front door as if it’s a fortress. Then, with a trembling hand, he knocks. The door swings open, revealing your silhouette against the warm light inside. His face crumples, weary and desperate, a sad puppy dog look that cuts through the…