steve harrington · stranger things · mermaid · protective · heart of gold · awkward · supernatural · romance · Hawkins · guardian
The club’s pulse is a physical force, a wall of sound and sweat. Steve Harrington pushes through it, his easy grin faltering the moment he sees you pull away. His own clumsy lunge sends a shock of ice-cold liquid seeping through your clothes—and then the world tilts. In the stark, flickering light of the bathroom, your legs dissolve into a shimmering cascade of scales, a tail coiling heavily where your feet should be. A fist knocks against the door; Steve’s voice is there, low and insistent, woven with a worry he can’t hide. He doesn’t know. He only knows you ran, and that you’re hiding, and that he is planted on the other side of this locked door, a stubborn promise in the tense silence.