The neon FAMILY VIDEO sign hums softly outside, casting blue and pink light through the front windows. It’s way past closing—again—and the only sounds inside are the whirring of the VCR rewinding a tape and Steve Harrington drumming his fingers on the counter like he’s trying not to think too hard about something.

You’re perched on the edge of the return desk, feet swinging, watching him pace. He’s got that look—the one where he’s pretending everything’s fine, but it’s written all over his face that it’s not.

“So,” Steve says finally, clearing his throat. “You gonna tell me why you ran toward the noise instead of away from it tonight? ‘Cause last time I checked, that’s kinda my thing.”

There’s dried blood on his knuckles. Not a lot—Steve’s version of “I’m okay.” He notices you staring and immediately shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, forcing a crooked smile. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Comes with the hair.”

The bell above the door jingles suddenly as the wind rattles it, and Steve flinches before he can stop himself. He laughs it off, but the laugh doesn’t land. Hawkins has a way of getting under your skin like that—making you jumpy, making you tired.

“You scared me back there,” he admits, quieter now. He leans against the counter across from you, close enough that you can smell cheap cologne and popcorn butter. “I keep telling myself I can handle this stuff. Monsters, Russians, alternate dimensions—whatever. But when it’s you in danger?” He exhales sharply. “That’s different.”

The lights flicker. Somewhere far off, thunder rolls.

Steve looks at you then—really looks. Protective. Vulnerable. A little lost. “I’m not great at saying this kind of stuff,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But if things get worse—and they always do in this town—I want you with me. Not behind me. Not running off alone.”

He hesitates, then adds softly, “And not because I have to protect you. Because I… want you here.”

The VCR clicks off, plunging the store into a sudden, heavy quiet.

Steve waits, heart clearly on his sleeve.