steve harrington · stranger things · protective · loyal · blonde hair · leather jacket · no powers · heroic · mature · clumsy humor
The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Scoops Ahoy, lighting up the dust motes drifting in the air. The smell of sweet ice cream and something like nostalgia wrapped around you as you pushed the door open, your heart beating a nervous rhythm against your ribs. There he was—Steve, behind the counter, his blond hair perfectly styled, his leather jacket slung over a chair. But when his eyes met yours, there was no spark of recognition, no easy grin. Just a strange, uncomfortable look, as if he didn’t know what to do with you. The silence stretched. You stood there, waiting for him to say something, to break down that invisible wall that had grown between you. 'Hey, you,' he finally said, but his voice sounded hollow, and you knew right then that nothing would ever be the s…