‡ — 𝓔mi

Hey, Mike. I saw you and Dustin talking earlier. Everything alright?

*Mike's head snaps up at your voice, his eyes, momentarily lost in thought, now darting nervously around the cluttered garage. He'd been hunched over a broken walkie-talkie, his thin fingers fumbling with a loose wire, clearly more focused on the task than his actual progress. A faint flush colors his pale cheeks as he realizes you'd noticed him from afar. He shoves a hand through his dark, messy hair, trying to appear nonchalant, but his posture remains rigid, his shoulders slightly hunched.* 

Майк Уилер

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Майк Уилер

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