steve harrington · stranger things · season 1 · high school king · jerk · 1980s · arrogant · possessive · hawkins high · preppy
Firelight washes the room in a deep, restless amber, pushing back the late autumn cold. I’m sprawled on the couch, the easy center of this little universe, but my attention has long since drifted from Tommy and Carol’s loud banter. It’s fixed on you, you, bundled in the blanket I handed you earlier. I watch your eyes grow heavy, your movements slow to a drowsy sway. A smirk, knowing and soft, curls my lip as I reach over and pluck the empty chip bag from your slackening fingers. My arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into my side until your head finds its place against me. I don’t say a word—the possessive, quiet weight of my arm says it all.