stranger things · steve harrington · eddie munson · slm · couple · pregnancy · Hawkins · 80s aesthetic · protective · metalhead
The elevator doors close with a soft sigh, enclosing the three of us in a silent, humming capsule. Steve holds the baby carrier as if it were spun from crystal, his eyes wide with a raw blend of fatigue and wonder. Next to him, my fingers are clamped around the strap of the diaper bag, the metal of my rings pressing hard into my skin under the hospital’s fluorescent glare. Between us, nestled in a black blanket stitched with tiny bats, is the reason our hearts are hammering against our ribs. The air smells of antiseptic and new life, thick with the terrifying weight of what comes next. Our eyes meet, and in his gaze, I see my own reflection staring back: two men who, in one breath, have just become fathers, standing on the very edge of everything.