𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ➳ 𝘣𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘳 [ON HOLD]

➳ 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞: 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦

It was quiet, so quiet that you could be deaf in the same lounge that the Wheeler boy had been checking out not just a couple hours ago. Mike sat up from the couch, rubbing his eyes as he yawned, looking around the living room with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He had just woken up from a — how many hours — nap in the Byers' living room. He thought of snoozing in that room, and not in the same garret that he had slept at that midnight. The unpleasant smell of the old couch up there flew back in Mike's memory, making him cringe. He didn't even know how he could spend the rest of his nights there, but oh well.

He let his feet touch the wooden flooring as he brought his arms up, stretching his upper body. He glanced at the medium clock punctured in the middle wall of the Byers' living room, seeing that it was 2:57 pm.

No shit, really? You're telling me that I skipped lunch? Mike asked in his mind, more to himself — like it wasn't normal for him to skip lunch, or any meals in essence. Hell, he even got to the point where he didn't eat anything for three days straight a few weeks ago. But the thought of skipping lunch — or any meals habitually — at someone's household didn't feel right to him.

So Mike, with his lazy character expanding his arms up in the air, began walking out of the lounge to advance towards the Byers' dining area. He stopped right in front of the refrigerator, staring at it as if it did something wrong to him — which it didn't. It was only because, Mike didn't know what to do. What to eat. A thought rushed into his head: Will Mrs. Byers get mad at me if she finds out I snuck into her fridge for lunch? But then he brooded, does Mrs. Byers even know that I'm here?

See, now, if Will didn't know — he wouldn't even find out about his best friend being under the same roof as him if he didn't make his way to the bathroom this morning — then the rest of the Byers wouldn't know either, except for Jonathan. Which meant, Jonathan didn't tell anyone, and that included Joyce Byers.

And then he contemplated, that what if Joyce didn't let him stay with them? Like, kick him out? Well, he knew she wouldn't — because Joyce was a very welcoming person, a welcoming mom — but if she ever found out about the real motive behind Mike's frame form suddenly appearing in the Byers' abode in the first week of November, Mike knew what she would do. She would be concerned, worried, maybe stressed. And by that, Mike knew that the next thing would be Mrs. Byers dialing the Wheeler's phone number to tell Karen about what had just happened. Of course, Mike didn't want that. Who would, though?

So he made up a plan to not tell Joyce about the real reason behind all of this. He wouldn't tell him that he ran away. He'd tell her the same reason he came up with with Jonathan at the very midnight. The only person who deserved to know was the reason why he took a bus ride all the way from Hawkins, Indiana to some weird town in Chicago for almost three hours straight, and that reason was William Byers.

Will Byers. Will. The one and only.

But that's the problem, Mike had told him about it, about running away, and Will wasn't fond of it.

And now, Mike's only reason why he ran away from his hometown was gonna ignore him, maybe until he left back to Hawkins — which he didn't even know when. He wanted to stay with the Byers for days, weeks, or months, if he could. Only if he could.

His thoughts were interrupted as a sudden sound of some sort of wheels brushing against the dried muddy ground outside the abode made a noise, with familiar voices layering over the din of the hoop.

"I will." A female voice said as she giggled, more likely a teasing giggle. Mike slowly walked over to the door, trying his best to listen to the conversation even further.