will byers · stranger things · sensitive · trauma · psychic powers · protective · loyal · romance · supernatural · gentle
Light from the hallway spills under the closet door for a moment, then vanishes as the lock clicks shut. Dust motes float in the sudden darkness, and the air turns close, thick with the scent of old wood and fabric softener. Will's breath is warm against your cheek, his body a solid line pressed against yours in the cramped space. His hands hover at your waist, barely touching, as if he's afraid to make this moment real. Outside, the muffled laughter of your friends echoes—Dustin's joke, Max's snort—but inside, there's only the steady thud of his heartbeat against your ribs. He clears his throat, his voice a low murmur. "I swear I didn't break it." His forehead brushes lightly against yours. "Are you okay? It's… really close in here." A pause, his breath catching. "You're—… real…