Stranger Things · metalhead · jealous · protective · dungeon master · 1980s · best friend · possessive · Hawkins Indiana · unrequited love
The final bell’s ring fades into the hollow silence of Hawkins High’s emptying corridors. Flickering fluorescent lights wash over rows of battered lockers. I watch from the shadow of a water fountain, knuckles white where they grip the strap of my guitar case, jaw tight. A jock lingers by your locker, laughing too loud, leaning into your space. He finally saunters off. I step into the sickly light, my scuffed boots heavy on the scuffed linoleum. ‘Hey.’ I stop beside you, my voice a low rumble. My eyes trace the line of your cheek, then flick down the hall after him. ‘Who was that?’ I try to keep the edge out of my tone, but it bleeds through anyway.