we know mike looks at will like he’s the sun, but like, he dose it in the most literal sense!!!
when he was younger he would stare and stare directly until someone told him he shouldn’t, that it was wrong, that staring into the sun would hurt him. so then instead of staring head on he would simply bask in the glow, tell himself that it’s enough, that he could be happy with this, even if he still longed to stare.
then the sun is taken from him, it’s gone. it’s cold, and dark, and lonely, and though the moon comes out, and mike tries to stare at it, but it can only reflect the sun’s light but it’s never quite enough for mike.
when he gets the sun back it’s clouded and dimmed but he tried to bask anyways, but you can still see the moon, and he feels as though he should be staring at that, the moon in the daytime, isn’t that what anyone else would do?
once the sun was truly back to shining he was scared to embrace it, so scare of getting burned, so he hid from it, avoided it’s light, tried to protect himself from it, only came out with the moon, but it didn’t help, and when the sun left again all he could do was mourn the light, wishing it would shine on him again. without it again it’s all dark, and the moon is missing too. and though mike likes the stars, they don’t provide enough light for him.
but now, the sun is coming back, and now, mike’s finally willing to look upon the sun again. it’s different then how he remembers, weaker, duller, it doesn’t seem as bright. and yet it’s just as wonderful as he has remembered. now he wants to go back into the sun, go lay in the sunlight, embrace the burns, the the heat, and the spots in your vision for staring just a little to long.
Mike has ALWAYS looked at will like he’s the sun.
