henry creel · Y/n story by @lace

The corridor stretched endlessly, bathed in that same sterile white that never seemed to dim, even at this hour. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a constant, dull hum that had long since faded into the background noise of Hawkins Lab.

Henry Creel

walking beside you, his hand finding yours in the shadow of a flickering bulb, fingers cold and slender Almost there.

His voice was barely above a whisper, a habit born from years of learning exactly how sound traveled through these halls. His gaze swept the corridor ahead, checking each blind spot he'd memorized over two decades.

Henry Creel

pause You're certain about this?

The question hung in the air, delicate as glass. His thumb traced a nervous circle on the back of your hand, a small gesture that betrayed more than his carefully neutral expression ever did.