𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞

𝟐𝟗.

Mike Wheeler | 4:54pm

I think after seeing Will crying like that during the eulogy, something about what I was doing just seemed wrong. Yes, I'm perfectly happy with my speech, but I think it has a lot more to do with the letter I wrote a few days ago. In that letter, I spoke about the things I liked about him.

Because of the way he cried, I could tell it wasn't out of grieving. It was out of guilt. Guilt. Will Byers felt guilty for the death of Troy Walsh. He never said so, but he started crying when I mentioned the problems there were between us before Troy died, but everyone knows damn well it isn't his fault. Will is just a really selfless person who always finds ways to blame himself in every situation, not wanting others to feel like they're in the wrong - that's something I love about him. Not like, love.

Just generally though, I think that the way I feel about him goes much deeper than just 'liking'.

No.

I know.

That's why I'm sat at the desk of my basement once again, aimlessly staring at a piece of paper with a pen in my hand. Except, this time, the idea of sending the letter hasn't even crossed my mind. I just find that writing down everything I feel for him as if I am speaking to him will make it easier to get through this. This love. Because this love is forbidden.

Sunday 29th December, 1985'

4:58pm

Dear Will,

I have a lot that I'd like to address to you.

I know that the last time I wrote to you, I spoke a lot about my feelings. I know that it's crazy. It is. But I think that I underestimated the way that I feel about you, so yeah- it just got crazier.

It's funny. I only really thought about it today when I came home from the funeral. Well- I've been thinking about it since then. Non stop.

I guess what I wanted to do was further emphasise how desperate I am to not lose you. Ever. You're too caring, possessive, smart and... yeah- I just can't lose you after all of this time. I already lost someone who was important to me, I don't want you to be next. Whether you die, hate me, move away... I can't handle that.

I never knew that I needed someone like you and look at me now. You're all that I ever think about.

I am really aware how wrong it is of me to consider you as someone I'd like to associate with romantically, but I suppose I need to thank you as well. Even though I shouldn't be this way, I'm glad that you made me realise this about myself rather than living on as a repressed gay man. Well- I probably will stay that way publicly, but you get my point essentially.

Well, yeah.

I know I said I had a lot more to say and I probably do, but this is all I can really come up with now.

If you could find it in your heart to at least understand my feelings for you, I would give you the whole world.

I love you.

- Mike'

I stare down at the page of writing, my heartbeat booming out my ears. I know that I'm not gonna send it, that's not the point.

But now I know that I've just embraced it.

I love Will.

I reward myself with a soft smile before sliding the letter into my drawer and letting out a sniffle. I loosen the tie from my neck and toss it on my chair before heading upstairs to my room.

I' m exhausted.

Lucas Sinclair - 7:11pm

It's been a few hours since we came home, but Max and I are still wearing the clothing we wore during the funeral. I lean against the counter in the kitchen and Max does the same, allowing her eyes to fall to her feet.

"It's... it's just awful." She manages to say.

"I know." I agree, staring blankly across the room. I just can't believe that he's dead. After all these years of knowing him, he's gone.

He's gone...

I look down at the ground and furrow my brows deep in thought, accidentally letting out a wimper.

"Oh, Lucas..." I feel Max's arms wrap around me and I stand frozen in place, not letting myself cry harder but also not holding back in what already escaped. My lips tremble and a tear rolls down my cheek.

"I feel like I should've taken this time to try and understand him..." I surprisingly formulate, "Then m-maybe... maybe he would still be with us."

"Don't do that Lucas..."

"Do what?"

"Blame yourself." She releases the hug and smiles at me reassuringly. We make eye contact.

God, she's so...

I don't even know.

I wipe the single tear from my face and lower my gaze to the floor again.

"Well-" the redhead interrupts the silence, "I'm gonna get some water. I'll get some for you too." She walks to the fridge.

"Sure, thanks..." I mutter, sitting down on the couch in the living room. Max emerges from the kitchen shortly after, handing me the glass of water. I take a sip.

"So... how do you feel?" She asks. I meet her gaze and shrug, not really having an answer.

The thing is that I'm trying my hardest not to blame myself for his death for my sake, but it just so obviously is. I should've been there for him when things were hard. I assume things were hard since his dad's in jail. I can't really think of a better reason other than... abuse.

God, I'm such a bad friend.

I sigh and meet Max's gaze, allowing myself to get lost in her eyes for a few seconds, she doesn't stop me. I lean in, desperate to kiss her rosy lips. If I don't, I don't know when I'll have a chance to ever again.

"It's getting late." Max exhales, moving her face away from mine.

Oh.

"Y-yeah! It's dark out so you should probably erm... head home." I gulp, shifting in my seat as she gets up. "Do you want me to walk you?"

"No, it's fine. I can manage." Max offers me a small smile before walking off. I hear the front door open and close not long after.

I'm so fucking stupid...

To Be Continued...

a.n.
Not me who wrote this in my free period.

BRO SPEAKING OF FREE PERIOD yesterday I spent like three hours doing math homework and then the lesson got cancelled. kms.

Anywayyy this chapter took longer since I wasn't really sure what to write but I think I have a better idea now for the upcoming ones so I'll probably be consistent again.

Okay byeeee <3