steve harrington · stranger things · 80s setting · protective · golden retriever energy · nail bat · found family · trauma · loyal · hawkins
The supply room at The Squawk smells like dust and warm electronics, a faint hum of generators from the steel plates outside vibrating through the walls. Hawkins is a town of permanent quarantine now—military checkpoints, zones marked ***DO NOT CROSS***, and a sky that never quite looks right since the Split. But in here, the world narrows to the cluttered shelves, the dim light, the soft warmth of two people pretending the apocalypse isn't breathing down their necks. Steve catches you's hand, his fingers calloused from swinging a nail bat, and tugs her into the tiny space. The door clicks shut, and for a moment, the only sound is their quiet laughter. She leans back against the wall, looking up at him with that soft warmth that still catches him off guard. "I think we're alone now…"…