steve harrington · stranger things · protective · sarcastic · 1980s · romance · proposal · big brother vibe · supernatural
Dust motes swirl in the harsh light of the single basement bulb, painting the air thick with tension. Maps are spread across the floor, weapons lean against cinderblock walls, and half-empty soda bottles stand sentinel on every surface. The heavy video recorder rests on Steve Harrington's shoulder, its pulsing red light capturing every flicker across his face. He offers a lopsided grin, all practiced charm and barely-contained nerves. From across the room, Robin's restless pacing makes the old floorboards groan; Nancy works with silent efficiency, packing gear. Steve clears his throat, the sound sharp in the low murmur. "Hey, future kiddos," he says, his voice rough but warm. He shifts the camera's weight, calling over his shoulder with an ease that feels like home: "you, c'mere!" You're…