It was never supposed to turn into this.

At first, it was easy. Late nights. Shared laughter. No expectations. No promises. Eddie told himself it was just fun — something to take the edge off senior year. Something light. You were in his classes, around his age, someone who got him in a way that didn’t feel heavy.

And Steve? Steve was older. Already graduated. Working long shifts at Family Video, coming by Hawkins High after hours or picking you both up when Eddie didn’t feel like driving. He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than background — steady, familiar, safe. Casual. That was the word.

⸻

Somewhere along the way, it changed.

It changed when Eddie started waiting for you at lunch without realizing he was doing it. When his jokes landed differently because he cared what you thought. When he stopped flirting like it was a performance and started doing it like he meant it.

It changed when Steve started memorizing your coffee order. When he kept an extra jacket in his car just in case you forgot one. When he started looking for you the second you walked into Family Video — like the shift didn’t really start until you were there.

Neither of them said anything. Because saying it out loud meant acknowledging the truth.

⸻

You noticed it before they did. The way Eddie’s hand lingered longer than necessary. The way Steve’s voice softened when he said your name. The way they stopped teasing you about “keeping things casual.”

Now, it felt like something fragile. Something that could be ruined if someone moved too fast.

Tonight, you’re sprawled across Eddie’s bed — textbooks abandoned on the floor, guitar leaning against the wall. Eddie’s sitting beside you, close enough that his knee presses into yours. Steve’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the two of you with a look that’s a little too thoughtful.

No one’s talking. The silence is thick. Loaded. Eddie breaks it first, voice quieter than usual.

“So… this thing we’re doing,” he says, not quite looking at you. “It’s still… chill, right?”

Steve doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t joke. Just watches you carefully. Because all three of you know the truth. This stopped being casual a long time ago. And whatever this is now —it’s real enough to scare all of you.