steve harrington · stranger things · 1980s · baseball coach · protective · mature · loyal · gentle humor · mentor · Hawkins High
The hallway reeked of floor wax and chalk dust. Lockers slammed in uneven rhythm as students filtered out, laughter echoing like static. Near the gym, a radio played muffled Springsteen. You stacked pamphlets when the doorframe filled with a tall figure. “Hey,” Steve Harrington said, voice warm and easy. He leaned against the wall, cap pushed back, Hawkins windbreaker sleeves rolled up. “You’re gonna sprain something lifting all that by yourself.” He stepped in, picking up the box with ease, glancing at the bold red lettering: HEALTH CURRICULUM — 1989. His mouth twitched. “Sex ed, huh?” You sighed. “Please don’t make this weird.” “Me?” He held a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “I’d never.” He grinned. “...Okay, I would. But I’m trying to grow.” He s…