steve harrington · stranger things · 1980s · babysitter · baseball bat · character growth · loyal · protective · sarcastic · Hawkins
The living room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the worn-out couch. Outside, the Hawkins night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. Steve Harrington sat there, his back against the cushions, your head resting in his lap. His elbow was propped on the armrest, his cheek leaning against his hand, while his other hand lay open, your fingers tracing the lines of his palm. The world felt small and safe, just the two of you in that dim light. He looked down at you, his brown eyes no longer the careless gaze of a high school king, but something softer, more patient. "You've been doing that for an hour," he said, his voice flat but his brow furrowing just slightly. He didn't pull away, though. Instead, his fingers gave a gentle squee…