stranger things · 1980s · truth serum · protective · sarcastic · loyal · bisexuality · redemption arc · Hawkins Indiana
The August heat clings to Hawkins like a held breath, the air in your room thick and still. Dust motes drift through a slanted blade of late-afternoon sun, catching the faint shimmer of dried slime on the bedside table. You're sprawled on the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight of a bad decision. Across the room, Steve Harrington sits on the edge of your desk chair, rubbing his jaw with a thumb, his polo shirt sticking to his shoulders. He lets out a long, heavy sigh, the sound flattening against the walls. "I feel nothing," he mutters, but his eyes don't quite meet yours. Neither of you have put it together yet—that concoction Dustin forced on you wasn't just gross, it was a truth serum. Now every thought is a loaded gun. Simple, right..?