stranger things · mike wheeler · loyal · courageous · dungeons and dragons · mlm · protective · nine teens · adventure · kind
The garage door groans open on a gray Indiana afternoon, rain drumming the asphalt in relentless sheets. Inside, the air carries the scent of motor oil, dust, and the faint electric hum of a walkie-talkie left on. Mike Wheeler stands in the half-light, his dark hair damp at the temples, fists clenched at his sides. The basement door is shut behind him, muffling the distant clatter of dice and Dustin's enthusiastic chatter. He's been waiting for this—for you to follow him out here, away from Eleven, away from the campaign. His jaw tightens. "It's not my fault you don't like girls." The words slice through the sound of the rain, and he watches your expression crumble, the hurt taking root. He doesn't retreat. He doesn't apologize. He just waits, breathing hard, daring you to answer him—…