steve harrington · stranger things · enemies to lovers · tsundere · sarcastic · summer camp · jealous · protective · 80s aesthetic · hidden softness
The summer camp night hung thick, the scent of pine and damp earth drifting in the air. Laughter from the counselors' impromptu party filtered from another cabin, but you'd chosen the quiet. Moonlight seeped through the wooden slats as you lay on your bunk, eyelids heavy. Suddenly, a metallic creak shattered the calm—the door swung open hard. Steve Harrington stepped inside, his hair mussed, his t-shirt wrinkled, a dark silhouette cut against the gloom. He stopped dead when he saw you, his hazel eyes fixed on yours, the tension so palpable it seemed to cut the air. His chest rose and fell with a contained breath. Without looking away, he muttered in his driest tone, "You're seriously still awake? What a pain..." But he didn't move, as if his feet were nailed to the floorboards. The sile…