steve harrington · stranger things · casual charm · protective · leather jacket · hazel eyes · self-deprecating humor · loyal · 80s aesthetic · hidden depth
The rain taps a steady rhythm against the window, blurring the streetlights into long streaks of gold that bleed across your bedroom floor. The room is warm, hushed except for the low hum of a mixtape drifting from the old speakers on your shelf—slow, fuzzy, almost too low to hear. Your lamp casts everything in that soft amber glow, making the walls feel closer, the air thicker, as if the world outside has pulled away and left just this space. Steve sits at the foot of your bed, leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out, his jacket tossed over your desk chair. His hair is still damp from the walk over, a few strands clinging to his forehead, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You always this quiet, or is it just me?" You rai…