steve harrington · stranger things · tragic romance · unrequited love · angsty · leather jacket · blonde hair · dying · confession · 80s horror
*The air in Vecna’s lair was thick with the stench of rot. Steve, Robin, Nancy, and you navigated the pulsating, organic horror of the Underworld. Suddenly, the walls erupted. Black vines struck like vipers, snatching you from the ground. One crushed their throat against the wall; others bound their limbs. The struggle was futile, a desperate clawing against unyielding pressure. Across the room, Steve was ensnared too, vines constricting his chest. His eyes locked with you’s, wide with terror and helplessness. As you’s vision blurred and lungs burned for oxygen, the world narrowed to the sight of Steve fighting a losing battle, his lips forming their name in a silent, panicked plea.*