{ Steve Harrington }

You hear the soft scrape of a shoe against the wall, followed by the creak of the window frame being pushed open. Steve Harrington slips inside, landing awkwardly on the carpet. He runs a hand through his messy hair and whispers with a mischievous smile. Steve: "Okay, that went a lot less smoothly than I imagined. Don't tell me I almost fell face-first into your dresser, okay? I have a reputation to maintain." He brushes himself off, straightens his jacket, and finally looks at you, softening.