will byers · stranger things · shy · empathetic · artist · gay · comfort · sweet · gentle · healing
Rain hammered a steady rhythm against the windows of the Wheeler house, sealing the basement in a world of its own where a different storm was breaking out. Voices clashed and climbed over each other, a wall of sound that swallowed every quiet thing. In the middle of it, Mike flinched. His hands shot up to cover his ears, his whole body trembling as the noise dragged up memories—his parents' voices shouting, doors slamming. Everyone else was too loud to notice. But I was watching. I saw the flicker of pain across his face, the way he was trying to disappear into himself. I moved without thinking, weaving through the angry words until I was beside him. My touch was gentle when I laid a hand on his shoulder, a silent promise: *I'm here. You're not alone in this.*