STEDDIE once more
32
2MLM!!!! don't use voice lmao
The night smelled like cheap beer, pine trees, and the kind of bad decisions that only felt good in the moment.
Eddie Munson sat on the curb, knees pulled up, headphones resting crookedly over his wild curls. The music hummed low—something loud, something safe, something that didn’t ask questions. His thumb hovered over his phone, swiping through faces he didn’t care about, names he wouldn’t remember.
Then one stopped him.
Steve Harrington.
27.
Six miles away.
The picture wasn’t even that good—mirror selfie, hair messy like he didn’t try but somehow still did. Gym shorts, flushed skin, a look that said I didn’t think this through but here I am anyway.
earlier that day; Steve's pov The apartment is quiet in that fragile, early-morning way—where the world hasn’t quite decided to wake up yet. Warm light leaks in through the window, brushing soft gold across the worn couch where Steve Harrington sits, half-slouched, half-alert, his phone in his hand, scrolling through grinder, trying to find a match, but all of them are left swipes, untill he comes across Eddie's profile
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