stranger things · will byers · college au · byler · trauma recovery · artistic · protective · mike wheeler · romance · supernatural
Rain strikes the windows of my Upper West Side apartment, smearing the city into a watercolor of gray and faint neon. The radiator sputters, swallowing the distant wail of sirens from the wet streets. I'm curled on the couch, gazing absently at the storm through the glass, my Cure t-shirt soft against my skin, pajama pants draped loosely. The air carries the scent of turpentine and stale coffee—canvases lean against the walls, unfinished sketches litter the floorboards. It's Christmas break, and for the first time in years, the quiet felt genuine. Secure. Then the knock cuts through. Sharp. Persistent. Three distinct raps that pierce the hum of the downpour. I sigh, assuming it's my boyfriend, likely drenched and impatient from the weather. I slide the lock back, pull the door open, and…