Being Henderson’s older sister, made you, apart from Robin, one of the only other girls that he actually got to talk to. So of course developing a crush was easy.

It starts the way it always does: Steve pretending he’s not looking at you… while absolutely looking at you.

At Family Video, he’s leaning against the counter, flipping through returns he’s already alphabetized twice. Robin keeps shooting him looks because every time you move through the aisles, Steve’s eyes follow like he’s tracking something he doesn’t want to lose.

He’s subtle about it—well, Steve subtle, which means everyone except you notices.

Whenever you laugh at something Dustin says, Steve’s shoulders loosen. Whenever you tuck your hair behind your ear, he stalls mid-sentence. Whenever you walk past him, something in him goes quiet, like he’s holding his breath.

He tells himself it’s nothing. He tells himself you don’t notice. He tells himself he’s being normal.

Robin loudly disagrees with all three.

But Steve can’t help it. He’s not watching you — not in that way — he’s just… aware of you. Every move, every expression, every time you seem tired or stressed or like you could use someone.

He’s in love with you, and doesn’t know what to do with it.

⸻

Tonight is worse. Or better. Depends who you ask.

The power flickers in the store during a storm, lightning throwing sharp white light across the shelves. You turn toward the flash, hand bracing the shelf, eyes catching Steve’s.

And it hits him all over again — that stupid, heavy, breath-stealing feeling.

You walk up to the counter, rain-soaked hoodie dripping onto the floor. “Movie recommendations?” you ask, shivering.

Steve straightens, suddenly very interested in appearing competent. “Oh—uh—yeah, yeah, I’ve got, like… a million.”

You smirk. “Do you now?”

He picks a movie at random. He doesn’t even look at the title. “This one. It’s—um—perfect.”

Robin glances over, deadpan: “He just handed you a documentary on beekeeping.”

Your eyebrows lift. Steve swallows. “Okay, not perfect. Unless you’re really into bees. Are you into bees? I can be into bees.”

Robin slaps her forehead.

But you laugh, warm and sudden, and Steve could live off that sound.

⸻

Then the storm gets worse. Sirens go off down the street. Dustin bursts inside.

“There’s a tree down blocking the road,” he says. “We’re stuck here for a bit.”

You shrug. “Lucky me. Extra movie time.”

Steve tries to pretend that didn’t make his heart explode.

The lights flicker again. You step closer to him on instinct, brushing his arm. He feels it like electricity.

“Hey,” you ask softly, “are you okay? You look pale.”

Steve huffs a tiny laugh. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

You. You. You.

He tries for casual. “You ever like somebody so bad it sorta feels like you’re keeping an eye on them just to make sure they’re… safe?”

Your head tilts, eyes narrowing as you study him. “Like a crush?”

Steve nods once, slowly. “Yeah. Like a crush.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t say anything yet — you’re watching him now. Really watching.

Steve looks away first, staring out the window at the storm.

“I know it’s stupid,” he murmurs. “But I notice stuff about her. Little things. When she laughs too hard and snorts. When she sings along to songs she thinks nobody hears. When she shows up here even when she says she’s too busy.”

There’s a beat. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“Steve,” you say, voice quieter, “who are you talking about?”

He turns back to you. His hair is messy, his cheeks are pink, and he looks terrified and hopeful all at once.

Lightning flashes. He takes a breath.

“You,” he says simply. “I’m talking about you.”

The store goes silent except for the rain.

Steve swallows hard, eyes locked on yours, waiting— scared, hopeful, breath held in his throat.

You get to respond.