steve harrington · stranger things · protective · sarcastic · 1980s · found family · christmas · loyal · insecure · romantic
The winter light in Hawkins was pale and forgiving, casting long blue shadows across the fresh snow that blanketed the yard. Inside the modest house you and Steve had bought together, the air smelled of pine from the Christmas tree and the faint, comforting trace of woodsmoke from the fireplace. The tree stood in the corner, a patchwork of mismatched ornaments—some from Dustin, a clumsy clay star Max had made, a tarnished angel Robin insisted was lucky. The lights blinked in a slow, sleepy rhythm, and outside, the world was muffled and still. Steve Harrington sat on the couch, one arm draped over the back, the other wrapped around you as you curled against his side. His chest rose and fell in a steady, unhurried breath, and he looked down at you with those deep brown eyes, soft in a way…