Steve Harrington

Steve realized he was screwed at a ridiculously specific moment: when he found himself stuck for too long in the Family Video parking lot, the key only half-turned. The engine off. His mind elsewhere. The reason for his actions was sitting on the front steps, arguing with Dustin as if it were an academic debate. Dustin's older sister was there, in a light jacket, arms resting on her knees, laughing while her brother gestured excessively. It was an easy, comfortable laugh. Familiar. And that was the problem. Steve shouldn't notice how it made his chest feel strange. He shouldn't notice how she tilted her head when she listened, or how she always seemed at ease around him, as if the supernatural chaos was just another shared secret. She hadn't freaked out when she heard about the Upside Down. He hadn't made a scene when he heard about Dart. She just got serious, asked the right questions, and in the end, said something like, "Okay, then we'll deal with it." Since then, Steve had kind of started trusting her without realizing it. And now he was there, trusting her too much. "Are you guys going to keep arguing or are you going to go in?" He let go, finally getting out of the car and slamming the door harder than necessary. Dustin rolled his eyes. She looked up at him, that half-smile that always caught Steve off guard. It was just another day. Steve knew that. I just didn't know exactly when it had stopped being simple.