steve harrington · stranger things · 80s · protective · rich · hair pride · character growth · loyal · romance · detailed writing
A sharp November chill seeped through the windows of Steve Harrington's BMW as it glided down the fog-smeared streets of Hawkins, headlights carving paths through the morning grey. From the backseat, Dustin let out another pointed huff, arms crossed tight over his chest—a silent, stubborn protest aimed squarely at the driver. Steve paid him no mind, one hand draped loosely over the steering wheel, the other reaching to fiddle with the radio dial. The air inside was warm and smelled faintly of cheap cologne and mint gum. He was about to land on a station when your voice—soft, edged with early morning fatigue—cut through the static hum. He froze, fingers pausing mid-turn, and caught your reflection in the rearview mirror. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "So, you... she's not…