Bound By Shadows 3 | Will Byers x Reader (Fem)

~ 7 ~

Two weeks later.

The cicadas were screaming by the time I peddled up the Byers' driveway, tires crunching over the cracked gravel. The June heat wrapped sticky around me, the kind of Hawkins summer air that felt more like soup than oxygen. Sweat clung at me temples, but the thought of dragging Will out into daylight made it worth it.

I hopped off my bike and jogged up the porch steps, rapping a rhythm against the old wooden door. It creaked open a few seconds later, and Joyce appeared — hair loose, an oversized t-shirt hanging off one shoulder, coffee mug in hand. Her eyes lit up the second she saw me.

"Y/N!" She said warmly "Hi, sweetie. What are you doing here so early?"

"It's like...ten," I grinned, rocking on my heels "Lucas, Max and I are dragging Will to Starcourt, then hitting the lake. He hasn't been answering, so.." I shrugged "I figured I'd save him from his antisocial tendencies."

That got a laugh. Joyce leaned against the doorframe, eyes crinkling. "He's here, still half-asleep. I think he was up drawing late again. Come in, come in."

I stepped inside the cool living room, hit instantly with the familiar mix of coffee, toast and faint cigarette smoke that always clung to the place. It didn't smell like my house, not exactly, but... it felt like home anyway.

As Joyce turned toward the kitchen, she shot me a sly look "You know, he only ever bothers to clean his room when he knows you're coming over."

From down the hall came a groggy muffled, "Mooooom!"

Joyce smirked, taking a sip of her coffee "ten minutes or I'm dragging him out myself." She called back. Then, to me, "he shouldn't be long."

I barely had time to drop onto the couch before Will shuffled out of the hallway, hair soft, messy around his head, his t-shirt wrinkled, pyjama pants hanging low on his hips. He rubbed his eyes like he was still half-dreaming.

When he saw me, he blinked — once, twice — then smiled, slow and a little shy "You look... summer-y"

I crossed my arms, grinning smugly "That's the point. You, on the other hand, look like you just woke up in 1976"

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but I caught the flicker of a grin anyway. "Why didn't you just call?"

"I did." I shot back. "On the supercom and your house phone. Twice."

"Oh." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. "Guess I didn't hear it."

"Too busy dreaming about me?" I teased, arching a brow, lowering my voice just enough that Joyce — clattering around in the kitchen — couldn't possibly catch it.

Will's ears went pink instantly, his eyes flicking nervously toward the kitchen before snapping back to me, like he was double-checking Joyce hadn't heard. Then he leaned just slightly closer, his voice above a whisper.

"You can't say things like that when my mom's in the next room," he muttered, but the way his lips twitched upward gave him right away.

I smirked, fighting a laugh. "Didn't say it wasn't true."

His gaze darted away, my stomach did a full somersault, I reached out, grabbing his hand and tugging him a step closer. "Come on, sleepyhead. ten minutes, or I'm telling Joyce to pick your outfit."

That got him moving real fast. "Okay, okay— I'm going!"

As he disappeared back down the hall, Joyce passed me on her way back to the kitchen. She gave me a look, one of those knowing-mother looks, and smirked. "He really likes you, you know."