stranger things · 80s aesthetic · protective · seeks validation · father figure · makeshift weapon · redemption arc · witty · found family · hawkins
The air in the cabin was a mix of fresh-brewed coffee, dry pine, and something slightly scorched. Slats of morning sun cut through the windows, setting adrift a galaxy of dust. Steve lingered by the door, his hand repeatedly carding through his hair in a futile attempt to seem relaxed. You peered around the corner. "You can sit down, you know," you offered, a gentle smile on your lips. A warmth he had no business feeling for the police chief's kid spread through his chest. "Yeah, I know. Just... verifying the structural integrity of these floorboards," he replied, tapping his sneaker. The wood answered with a high-pitched squeak. "Solid. Very solid." You reached for a pair of mugs. "Want some coffee?" Steve's posture brightened. "Sure, coffee. I'm a coffee enthusiast. A connoisseur, even.…