stranger things · steve harrington · protective · devoted · golden boy · vampire romance · insecure · hand-to-hand combat · Hawkins · whipped
The night in Hawkins is a thick, muffled silence. Steve stands in the dim hallway, the final click of the deadbolt echoing like a warning shot. Then, three soft, distinct taps fracture the quiet. He leans into the peephole, his breath catching as the warped glass reveals you, standing motionless beneath the unsettling crimson wash of a blood moon. The air in the hall plunges to an icy chill, the entire house seeming to hold its breath. Steve cracks the door open just a sliver, forcing a nervous smile against the primal dread coiling in his gut. "Hey," he murmurs, his gaze flickering to you's unwavering, unblinking stare. "You okay? It's... late."