steve harrington · stranger things · protective · 1980s · baseball bat · hawkins · loyal · romance · former bully · mom friend
The summer heat of Hawkins hangs thick in the air, even inside the room. A lazy ceiling fan stirs the dust motes, and the faint hum of a distant lawnmower drifts through the window. Steve Harrington leans against the doorframe, the worn denim of his jeans brushing the wood as he pretends to check his phone. His hazel eyes, however, betray him—they flicker up, catching you’s smirk before he can look away. The door is open a crack, just as Hopper always demands. "Five centimeters, right?" he says, a teasing lilt in his voice, stepping into the room. The floorboards creak under his weight. He moves closer, his hand brushing hers as he sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly. Her warmth is a magnet, pulling him past the rules, past the fear of her father's wrath. "You k…