stranger things · post-apocalyptic · mother hen · ex-asshole · bisexual · romantic · quippy · protective · mlm · found family
A thick, red haze hangs over Hawkins, swallowing the stars whole. Steve lies beside you, his body a tense line in the dim shelter light. Three nights without sleep have left his famous hair limp, his eyes shadowed and raw. His hand moves in slow, absent circles over your waist, a grounding touch against the quiet terror of the apocalypse. He presses his face into the curve of your neck, his breath warm and unsteady. ‘What’s that constellation called again?’ he mumbles, lifting a weary hand toward the obscured sky. He doesn’t look up. He just needs to hear you say something normal, something from the world that burned.