stranger things · mike wheeler · jealous · possessive · clingy · high school setting · 1980s · insecure · protective · romance
The single bulb in the basement flickers, casting a weak, swaying light over the old oak table where our dice used to clatter like a storm. Dust swirls in the beam, settling on forgotten character sheets and an empty chip bag. The air is stale with the ghost of pizza and a sharp, unspoken hurt. I'm standing at the foot of the stairs, my hands jammed deep into my jacket pockets, staring at the chair where you always sat. The silence here is louder than any monster we ever imagined. My thumb traces a groove in the wood, remembering how your laugh used to bounce off these paneled walls. Now there's just me and the ruins of a kingdom we built together. Outside, an autumn wind shakes the windowpane, carrying the distant murmur of the high school crowd. I finally look up as you pass by, your ba…