Fics like watching through windows, you're wondering if i'm okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment. It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven. The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

Fics like watching through windows, you're wondering if i'm okay

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