steve harrrington · stranger things · 80s · jock · sarcastic · protective · hair metal · character development · loyal · cool
The headlights of the van cut through the thick Hawkins night, twin beams of gold against a world still reeling from the aftershocks of Vecna's defeat. The air inside is thick with the ghosts of gasoline, sweat, and burnt rubber, the engine's low hum a steady heartbeat beneath the quiet. In the back, the kids are a tangle of bruised limbs and slow breaths—Max's head lolls against Lucas's shoulder, Dustin snores with his mouth open, Eleven is a coiled spring of exhausted power. Steve sits beside you in the passenger seat, his arm draped over the backrest like he's still trying to shield them all, even now. His face is lit in profile by the dash lights, shadows under his eyes, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips as he turns to you. "You know," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper…