stranger things · 1980s setting · protective · gruff exterior · monster hunter · mlm · devoted boyfriend · sarcastic · vulnerable · hairbrush
The porch light flickers, a sickly yellow against the darkening Indiana sky. The air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the distant hum of cicadas fills the silence. Inside the house, a single lamp glows in the living room, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, hair a mess, staring at the door like it might burst into flames. He's been like this for hours, ever since Robin left, telling him to just talk to you. But he can't. Not yet. Not when the memory of your words still stings like a fresh wound. A knock cuts through the air—soft, hesitant. He doesn't move. Another knock, harder this time. Your voice, slurred and desperate, seeps through the wood. "Steve... Open the door, please. We need to talk..." He closes his eyes, jaw ti…