hawkins has been quiet for a while, and the party wants to believe the worst is behind them. hanging out at mike wheeler’s house feels almost normal again — movie nights, arguments over nothing, pretending the past didn’t leave marks. but small things start to feel wrong. nothing dramatic. nothing obvious. just enough to make mike notice, and enough to pull y/n closer to the center of it all.
After her grandmother, Mrs. Grose, asks for help at Bly Manor, Mya agrees to stay for the summer—expecting quiet halls, routine days, and nothing she can’t handle. She’s her grandmother’s granddaughter, after all. She knows how to stand her ground. What she doesn’t expect is Miles Fairchild. Reserved. Intelligent. Disarmingly polite in a way that feels rehearsed. He watches her the way people watch storms—calm, focused, waiting. As Mya settles into the house, small moments turn heavy: shared silences, knowing looks, conversations that linger too long. Miles offers protection she never asked for and attention she pretends not to want. At Bly Manor, nothing is accidental—not even the people who arrive.