Steve had always thought of you as just a friend. It was easy to see how you two had become so close, your friendship forged from the first day of kindergarten and up to now. You were the constant in each other’s lives, and nothing ever seemed to get in the way. At least, that’s what Steve used to tell himself.

But as the years passed, Steve started to notice the little things—the way your laughter felt different now, the way his heart sped up when you touched, the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eye when you talked about anything too personal. You had always been able to talk about everything, yet now there was this tension that neither of you acknowledged, but both of you felt. Steve didn’t want to admit it, but there were times when it felt like you were more than friends—times when the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, heavy and unresolved.

Durinf the summer before Senior year, the two of you shared long nights driving around Hawkins with the windows down, sharing secrets under the stars, your laughter lingering in the air long after it died down. It was then that Steve began to realize how much you meant to him. He wasn’t just your best friend anymore. He couldn’t explain it—couldn’t understand it—but all he knew was that it went beyond friendship. And that scared him more than anything.

But despite the growing feelings, Steve never said a word. He was afraid. Afraid of ruining everything you had, of losing the one person who had been there for him when no one else had. It was easier to pretend he didn’t feel anything, to suppress the longing that gnawed at him in quiet moments. After all, what if you didn’t feel the same?

So, Steve kept it all hidden, burying his feelings deep down, hoping it would be enough to just be close to you, even if you never knew how much he truly cared. Maybe, someday, things would be different.