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Steve Harrington. Residential popular boy until high school came and went. Now, he was actively clawing to stay relevant or at least, a ladies man.
Steve Harrington. Childhood crush since the sandbox incident in first grade. And perhaps you could throw unrequited love into the mix.
Maybe you should’ve read the signs that he wasn’t interested when you saw him and Robin at the mall. Or when he stopped hanging out with you after joining his “cool” gang. Or when he would try to not stare so much at you in algebra or across the room during lunch. You weren't sure about his feelings anymore. He always hid everything.
You didn’t mean to pine for him for so long. You knew you shouldn't have. But that chance encounter after Nancy broke up with him made you think you had some semblance of a chance. You didn’t want to be the rebound, but how your heart swelled when your eyes met his, your lips upturned in an easy smile. The party seemed to slow in front of you, bodies becoming blurry and your eyes only focusing on his figure coming to you.
If this was anything like the movies you’d seen and dreamed of, you hoped it would end with him confessing his mutual feelings for you and not him taking your face in his hands and kissing you sloppily. You could practically taste the spiked punch on his lips.
You pushed him off, staring at him in shock. He inches closer, his sweaty hands trying to bring you back to kiss you again but you refuse. “Steve?” You whisper to him.
He just stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth, you don't recognize the look. But something about it feels so innocent, so soft. It feels like he’s searching for something deep within you. You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I’m not Nancy.”
He reeks of punch and hairspray. “I know that.” He manages out.
His hands come back, one hand resting at the nape of your neck, his fingers entangled in your hair. The other caresses your cheek. The feeling made you feel so warm, so loved. But you weren’t sure about him anymore, about the things he wanted. It seemed to be a shitty year for him.
Certainly, someone who made it their mission to get over you with cliques and drama didn’t deserve you.
But you were anything if not human in your possibly unrequited feelings.
“Steve.” You say again. You break out of the trance to step back. The moment was accompanied by sounds of loud teens and music, you shook your head again and darted for the door.
Steve mumbles out your name but it gets lost in the sea of screams and synths. You’re out the door by the time he searches for you in the crowd.
He can’t stop thinking about you at work. He stares at the chocolate chip flavor ice cream and thinks of how you dropped yours in the sandbox in the first grade. How he gave you his without a second thought.
This whole time he thought he wanted Nancy back, but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He missed your laugh, the snorts that would follow. The way you smelled followed him and the way you looked at him that night at the party, the tears in your eyes, haunted him.
He regretted so much of his later high school experience. He regretted being such an asshole. What good did it bring if you were locked out of his life?
He sees you pass by on your way to work at the diner in the mall. He tries to bury his feelings by asking out the random girls he serves but every time he’s turned down it comes back full force.
“Whatever happened to that girl you liked?” Dustin asks from behind the binoculars.
“Which one?” Steve asks. There must’ve been so many Dustin was referring to.
“That one that you always talk about, likes the same "nerd stuff" I do? Pretty? Cool?”
“That’s not my type.” Steve dodges the question, but nonetheless has a clear image of you in his head.
“Oh yeah? What is your type again? Not cool?” Dustin deadpans.
Steve huffs. “Alright, time’s up, give me the binoculars.”
Dustin passes them, eager to get on with his Russian mission. Steve scans the area, he’s about to give up on this whole mission when he lands on the sign of the diner you work at. He can’t help but focus on you at the register, deep in conversation with another co-worker and bursting into laughter. A captivated smirk came onto his face.
“You should probably go talk to her. She’s definitely a step up from the girls from the shop - actually from all those girls you've been trying to ask out.” Dustin says.
Steve looks up from the binoculars. “What’re you talking about?”
Dustin laughs. “You’re so obvious. Whatever happened to not letting girls know that you care?”
Steve shrugs. Stupid advice anyways.
Steve tries to not think of you when everything goes downhill in a span of a few hours. If he died without having said anything to you, even so much as an apology, he thinks the guilt would’ve killed him instead.
“Have you.....ever been in love?” Robin’s raspy voice asks him.
They’re just coming down from their highs and sprawled out on the floors of the bathroom. The near-death experience had scared him shitless enough to rethink a lot of things.
“Yup. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”
“Bullshit. She’s such a priss.”
He hums. “Turns out, not really.”
“Are you still in love with Nancy?”
“No.” He says, a little too quick.
Robin’s interest is piqued. “Why not?”
“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He fiddles with the frayed ends of his uniform.
“There’s this girl, the one I like. It’s somebody that I.....kind of ignored in high school. I didn’t mean to but I just know Tommy H would’ve made fun of me. Or I wouldn’t have been prom king. It’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway but when I think about it, this girl knows me. Inside and out. She always has. I should’ve been hanging out with her the whole time.”
He breathes out, hands shaking as he confesses what he’s bottled up for so long.
“First of all, she’s hilarious. She would have me in stitches all the time,” he chuckles. “She’s such a nerd, she likes Star Wars and math and books and things I made fun of. And she’s so smart. Probably much smarter than me. What do you think?”
“Of?”
“The girl.”
“She sounds awesome.”
“Yeah,” he nods solemnly. “And what about the guy?”
“I think there is something seriously wrong with him. To have something real and leave it for something so fake and forgettable.”
“Yeah, I’m an idiot.” He whispers.
“Have you told her? How you feel?”
Steve shakes his head. “I feel like all the bad I’ve done to her...I just deserve the rejection at this point.”
“You never know until you try. Maybe she feels the same.”
“Yeah maybe.” He concludes.
He didn’t think he’d survive the Russians but he does. With one evil defeated, he thinks the worst is over. And it would’ve been until Billy showed up.
The kids are ready for him, shaky, but on guard. He can see his shadow illuminate under the neon mall lights and his heart drops when he sees what he’s carrying.
You’re in Billy’s arms, unconscious and beat up but hopefully still alive. Still dressed in your diner uniform, Billy had snatched you up close to after hours and was planning on putting you to good use. He’d laid you down close by but still far from everyone’s reach.
Everyone’s eyes widened when they realized who he had. They hadn’t planned for this. Heather had gone long ago and if Billy’s plan was for you to become the next Heather, then you were in very dangerous territory.
“That can’t be-” Dustin asks but he’s interrupted by Steve.
“That’s it.” He grits. His knuckles are white and he feels the adrenaline rush through him. Nancy glances at him. The sheer determination is what she saw but the fear is what drove him.
The kids alter their plan to distract Billy so Steve has a shot at pulling you away from the danger. If the Mind Flayer gets anywhere near you, you’re as good as dead.
El gets the Mind Flayer going, letting it try its luck at her. She’s got Billy right where she needs him when she gives Steve the signal.
Steve’s never run so fast in his life. He only gets angrier at the eldritch terror as he comes closer to your body, bloody knicks marking your cherubic face, and a bleeding side wound. You clearly put up a fight.
“No, no, no, no.” He utters in shock, lifting your upper body and supporting your neck with his left arm. His hand grabs at your cheeks, shaking you to gain some response.
“Hey! Come on, wake up! Please.” He cries. When he gets no response he brings you up to his chest, hugging you as tight as he can.
The smell he remembers is there but coated in dirt and slime and blood. He’s horrified. He can’t close his eyes for fear that you’ll pass.
“Not you. Please not you. Come on, wake up.” He rocks you back and forth. “You can’t leave me too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About everything. I'll do anything please, wake up."
He feels you stir under him just then, wincing in pain and as slowly as your body would let you.
“Steve?” You mumble his name incoherently.
It’s a miracle he hears it amongst the commotion in the background. You feel the stinging pain in your side and your hand shoots up to touch it.
“Hey, hey, no. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly.
He’s thankful, so thankful that whatever being there was beyond the Mind Flayer let you come back to him.
“Am I going to die here?" You cry, unable to move without feeling white-hot pain throughout your body.
“No, okay? Just stay with me."
“Steve.” You groan. Your eyes feel so heavy, but he urges you to stay awake. It just feels impossible.
“No hey, we don’t have to talk right now. Okay? Stay with me, please. When this is all over I’ll take you on a hundred dates. You can yell at me, hit me, do whatever you want but stay with me.” He pleads.
A roar startles you both, and upon seeing the Mind Flayer charge to reap its pound of flesh, Steve accepts his fate. He shields you and buries your face in his neck, bracing himself.
The impact never comes. Instead, he hears screams and wills himself to open his eyes. Billy stands just inches away, tendrils impaling him as El lays on the floor in front of you both.
Steve’s shaking worse than before, he’s in shock. He almost thinks El’s dead but she’s a sobbing mess. Everything stops and the Mind Flayer falls dead.
He can hear Max’s cries for Billy. The silence that follows is deafening. Steve immediately looks down at you, making sure you’re still alive. When you wince in pain, he takes some comfort in it.
He kisses your forehead and utters profuse apologies and thanks. With whatever strength you can muster, you squeeze his hand in reassurance.
You sit in the booth, waiting for Steve to come back with the ice cream. You're humming along to the music coming from the loudspeaker in the shop absentmindedly. Today was part of many recoveries.
Steve smiles warmly when he returns, passing you it and watching as you take an eager bite. Chocolate chip, without fail.
“Final verdict?” He clapped his hands together in anticipation.
“It's gonna be a hard pass from me. Scoops did it better.” You quip, breaking your faux serious face.
“Damn.” He smirked.
You both broke into a fit of laughter, his shoulders bouncing with glee.
Your hand came across the table to hold his, fingers interlocking. You finally realized what that look at the party meant. That gaze he held. He was in love. Completely and utterly at its mercy.
It’s been three months since the battle at Starcourt Mall. Your side is somewhat healed but the scar will always be there to remind you of the ordeal. Steve’s nightmares about losing you to the Mind Flayer are starting to fade. You managed to get an internship outside of Hawkins doing what you loved and Steve was going with Robin the next day to see if the video store was hiring.
Steve kept his promise. The first date you two had was out of the hospital. It was scary at first, acknowledging bottled up feelings and things from the past that neither of you wanted to own up to before. But when he finally confessed and made it up to you in a million ways, you caved. Since then, dates have become sweeter and funnier, they surpassed the good old days.
You’d like to think things have changed for the better now. Hell, you even managed to convince Steve to start looking at colleges. You wanted to get out of Hawkins as soon as you’d saved up enough and graduated. But for now, you were taking it one day at a time.
You think you’ve earned your soft epilogue, here with him. At least the peace you read about in books. The kind where you can finally breathe. The calm after the storm.