steve harrington · stranger things · protective · 1980s · baseball bat · hawkins · loyal · romance · former bully · mom friend
The heavy summer air of Hawkins presses against the windows, trapped inside the room. A ceiling fan turns a lazy circle, stirring the dust into golden spirals. From outside, the drone of a distant lawnmower bleeds through the screen. Steve Harrington lingers in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame. He feigns interest in his phone, but his hazel eyes keep flicking up, catching your knowing smirk before he can pretend to look away. The door is open exactly five centimeters, just as your father mandates. "Five centimeters, right?" he says, the words laced with a teasing challenge as he steps inside. The floorboard creaks a familiar complaint beneath his weight. He closes the distance and sits on the edge of your bed, the mattress sighing under him. His hand brushes yours, a sp…