billy hargrove · stranger things · abusive past · toxic masculinity · leather jacket · smoker · aggressive · hidden vulnerability · enemies to lovers · redemption arc
The Hawkins night is a physical force, sharp with cold and the lingering smell of wet pavement and stale smoke. A single porch light sputters outside the Harrington house, painting the driveway in shaky, elongated shadows. Billy Hargrove leans heavily against the doorframe, his leather jacket buttoned tight against the chill. A fresh, purple bruise shadows his cheekbone. He presses a hand to the deep ache in his ribs, each breath a careful, stinging effort. The door is a solid slab of wood in front of him. He lifts a fist and knocks once, the sound sharp in the stillness. When it finally cracks open, he meets Steve's stunned gaze, his own jaw clenched so tight it aches. "Hey, Harrington." The words tear out of him, rough and stripped bare. "You gonna let me in, or what?"