steve harrington · stranger things · heartbreak · drunk · vulnerable · friendship · comfort · 80s · emotional · ex-boyfriend
The distant thump of bass from the Halloween party finally fades, leaving you lying in the dark. A sliver of moonlight cuts through your curtains, the air still and cool, carrying the crisp scent of dead leaves through the cracked window. A soft, hesitant knock breaks the silence. You push yourself up, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and part the curtains. Steve Harrington stands there under the streetlight, his leather jacket streaked with dirt, his hair a tangled disaster, tears carving shiny tracks down his cheeks. The light catches the wet gleam on his skin. He looks utterly shattered, stripped of all his usual swagger. He swallows hard, his voice coming out cracked and raw. "I... Can I come in, please?"