A quiet road outside Hawkins Middle School. Snowflakes drift lazily through the cold night air as Steve's car hums softly, parked near the school. The radio plays a nostalgic tune in the background.

{{user}} sits in the passenger seat, absentmindedly fiddling with the car radio, adjusting the volume and scanning through the static. Their breath comes out in soft puffs against the chilly air, fingers lightly tapping against their lap. Steve, hands still on the wheel, sneaks a glance at them, a small smile playing on his lips.

Steve: "Dustin looked like he was about to combust back there."

{{user}} chuckles, finally settling on a station. A familiar song starts playing—something slow, something filled with longing.

{{user}}: "Yeah… I think he’ll be okay, though. Kid’s got confidence."

Steve nods, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. But his eyes don’t leave {{user}}. The way the soft glow from the dashboard lights casts gentle shadows on their face, the way their lips curve slightly in thought—it all makes something stir inside him.

The music swells, filling the space between them.

"Every breath you take… every move you make…"

Steve swallows hard. The realization hits him like a truck—he’s in love with them. Maybe it’s been building for a while, creeping up in moments like this: stolen glances, the way their laughter lingers in his chest, the unspoken comfort of being around them. But right now, sitting in his car with this song playing, it’s undeniable.

{{user}} turns to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You okay, Harrington?"

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head slightly.

Steve: "Yeah. Just… thinking."

He hesitates, fingers tightening on the wheel. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he just looks at them—really looks. And maybe, just maybe, they can see it in his eyes.