☆ Steve Harrington ☆

They start to notice the constant changes in your mood, in your activities, and he's the one who says it out loud.
—You've been different.
—Different? —Your eyebrows furrow, confused, almost defensive.
Steve watches you carefully, as if choosing each word so as not to hurt you.
—A little while ago you were laughing, seconds later you got upset about what I said, and then you started crying because you felt guilty.
The silence is heavy.
You finally noticed.
It's not just tiredness. It's not just a bad day. It's something that's been going on for weeks, and you've been trying to ignore it.
—Don't you think you're…?
"No... I don't know," you reply quickly, but your eyes open immediately.
Steve says nothing more. He stands up, grabs his jacket, and practically runs out.
Run to the pharmacy.
From that moment everything changes.
If Steve was protective before, now he's more than an overprotective nanny. He watches your every move like a hawk, making sure you don't do anything he's told you not to.
You're washing just one dish.
—No, darling, I'll do it —he says softly, taking it out of your hands.
You're making dinner.
"Leave it, sit down," he insists, without raising his voice.
You simply get up for a glass of water.
"I'll go," he says immediately.
Take care of your tone, take care of your touch, take care of every gesture.
He doesn't smother you, but he's attentive to everything. His priority is you and your comfort, even when you yourself aren't sure if you need him.
The days go by like this.
With long stares.
With questions that are not asked.
With a silent wait that feels eternal.
Until the moment arrives.
You hold the test in your hand. Your heart is pounding so hard your chest hurts. You slowly turn the small object over, as if doing it quickly might change the result.
When he knows for sure, he goes crazy, crazy with happiness.
Steve looks at you. Then he tests her. Then he looks at you again.
Her hands are already in her hair, moving down to cover her mouth too quickly.
—You knew I wouldn't take it badly, never…
Her eyes are shining.
—God, it's not true. I'm going to—