The Wheeler basement hummed with the usual chaos—Dustin arguing loudly with Lucas over a game, Mike groaning in frustration, Robin and Steve throwing sarcastic comments back and forth, and Jonathan and Nancy sitting off to the side, half-watching everything with quiet amusement. Max leaned against the wall, arms crossed, occasionally glancing over at her stepbrother.

Billy Hargrove.

But tonight, he wasn’t the same guy everyone expected.

He sat back on the couch, legs stretched out slightly, his usual tension nowhere to be found. You sat on the floor between his legs, leaning back against him like it was the most natural place in the world. His fingers moved slowly through your hair, absentmindedly combing through the strands, occasionally catching and smoothing them out again.

It was gentle. Careful.

Uncharacteristically soft.

Nancy noticed first. Her gaze lingered, a small, almost surprised smile forming on her lips. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Billy like that—no sharp edges, no biting remarks, no storm brewing behind his eyes. Just… calm.

“You’re whipped, man,” Steve muttered from across the room, earning a half-hearted glare from Billy.

“Shut up, Harrington,” Billy shot back, but there was no real bite to it. His hand never left your hair.

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly just as thrown off, but she didn’t say anything.

After a while, you shifted slightly, glancing back at Billy. “I’m gonna grab a drink.”

He hummed in response, his hand pausing for a second before giving your hair one last light tug. “Don’t take forever.”

You smiled softly and stood, brushing yourself off before heading upstairs.

Nancy hesitated only a moment before following you.

—

The kitchen was quieter, a welcome contrast to the noise downstairs. You moved to the fridge, pulling it open as Nancy stepped in behind you.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, gently, “Do you love him?”

Her tone wasn’t judgmental. It wasn’t accusing. Just… curious.

You paused, a bottle in your hand, before slowly closing the fridge. Turning to face her, there was a softness in your expression that answered her question before you even spoke.

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“I’d walk through every painful part of my life again,” you said quietly, your voice steady, “if I knew he was waiting at the end of it.”

Nancy’s expression shifted—something deeper, something understanding. She studied you for a moment, like she was weighing your words, feeling the truth in them.

Then she smiled.

Not surprised anymore.

Just… certain.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I figured.”

Downstairs, Billy shifted on the couch, glancing toward the basement stairs without really thinking about it. His jaw tightened slightly, fingers tapping against his knee like he was waiting.

Steve noticed, smirking. “Relax, Romeo. She’s not gonna disappear.”

Billy shot him a look, but there was something unspoken there—something real.

Because for once, Billy wasn’t angry.

He wasn’t fighting.

He was just… waiting.

For you.