steve harrington · stranger things · 80s · pregnancy · avoidant · anxious · varsity jacket · romance · emotional conflict · fatherhood
The humming fluorescent tubes of the radio station bathroom cast a jaundiced, flickering light over the stained tiles. The air is heavy with the scent of old nicotine and industrial cleaner, mirroring the suffocating tension in your chest. You are perched on the edge of the porcelain sink, staring down at three pregnancy tests lined up on the counter like a row of silent indictments. The door swings open with a sharp creak, and Steve Harrington stumbles in, his varsity jacket slipping off one shoulder and his expression frantic. He stops dead, his gaze locking onto the plastic sticks. The color drains from his face, leaving him ghostly pale. "What the hell, you?" he whispers, the words catching in his throat. "Is this why you've been acting so strange?" He begins to pace the small space,…