Mike asks Will if he's happy- - -
"Are you happy, Will?" Is what Mike Wheeler says randomly one day in November.
It comes from nowhere, as Will is sure that the mindless flipping of comic book pages made for not-eighteen-year-olds didn't spark such a buried conversation. He sighs out a laugh, pure confusion sculpted across his feature and Mike only stares expectantly in return. There's something hidden in that questioning gaze that the latter holds on Will and it sends unwelcome, pimply goose bumps up his shoulders and neck. He almost wants to brush them off with his hand but he knows that'll trigger sour memories.
Will had never truly known happiness. He's felt happiness as in rolling a 20 and seeing Mike's face light up as he eagerly narrates the victory of the party, he knows it as in climbing up the leaderboard at the arcade, because- while the rest of the boys were busy fighting over that one damsel in distress, he was busy enjoying the company of Mike stare over his shoulder excitedly as Will completed levels with ease. He's had moments of joy, moments.
But he's always known that those moments only stall his unfortunate odds as misery after misery cross his path.
Going from using the Fireball spell to getting whisked away in the shed behind his house with nothing but the flicker of a light showing his new absence. From Mike's oath to go crazy together to Will's eager attempt at a hug only to be shot down by a lack luster shoulder pat.
Mike's eyes are shiny with something like tears or tiredness or- something and Will feels like he's about to combust right there on the spot. It'd be a shame if after all, Will the Wise dies extravagantly by becoming his own little fireball right here on Mike's bed back in Hawkins.
So he sits and lets that eye contact muffle the words from his mouth as he struggles to find something, anything to say.
Will is happy when he's home.
But home is nothing without Dustin's pearls, Lucas's finger guns randomly throughout hangouts and sleepovers, Jonathan's pep-talks that both he and Nancy are constant victims of, His mom's hugs that simultaneously seem to drown you in love and remind you that you have time and can say whatever you need to say whenever you feel like saying it, home is especially not home without Mike. Mike and shit-eating grin after he says something so stupid that everyone bursts out laughing, his lack of experience in apologies, his freckles that paint his cheeks like pepper paints olive oil at some fancy Italian restaurant, Mike and his- his everything, really.But, like Dorthy in Oz, Will's home seems to constantly be stolen away from him.
- - -
A/N here's a little scrap of writing for you.
I know, I know, you guys are jealous of my consistent posting schedule. 😔🥱Also don't you guys just love my very detailed summary for this snippet? I think it really clears up any confusions perfectly.
Anyway, BRO I MISSED YOU GUYS.
I felt the urge to write the absolute bare minimum, shit-post tonight so here you go 🥰

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"It was the best thing I've ever done" Byler Oneshots
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