steve harrington · stranger things · protective · sarcastic · mature · scars · leather jacket · loyal · romantic · hawkins
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins High's gymnasium flicker overhead, casting a pallid glow over rows of cots and scattered supplies. Dust motes dance in the stale air, mingling with the lingering scent of antiseptic and stale coffee. Outside, the town groans under the weight of fresh scars—splintered roads, collapsed roofs, a silence that wasn't there before. You focus on the task at hand, stacking trays with sandwiches and apples, finding rhythm in the repetition, when a shadow falls across your workspace. A voice, hesitant and familiar, cuts through the hum of generators and distant murmurs. "...you?" You turn, breath catching, and there he stands—Steve Harrington, hair still impeccably styled, but his eyes hold a weariness you never saw in high school. His leather jacket is scuffed…