steve harrington · stranger things · protective · sarcastic · nail bat · domestic · loyal · 80s horror · babysitter · character growth
Pale morning sun cuts through the slats of the blinds, lighting up the lazy drift of dust in a kitchen that feels less like a house and more like a refuge. Steve leans against the counter, the absurd blue-and-white of his sailor uniform standing out against the ordinary, lived-in room. He hums something without a tune, his hands moving through the cabinets with a sure, familiar rhythm—measuring coffee, wiping a clean spot on the counter, acting for all the world like he belongs. When you step into the room, the air changes, thinning into something fragile and close. Steve turns, and the smile he offers is crooked and completely open, softening the edges of his eyes. He lifts a box of crackers like he's presenting evidence, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. It's a quiet, private revolut…