Surrender // Steve Harrington x Reader

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

The room Steve led you to was back downstairs, large and opulent with three plush couches and a small low table perched in front of a large screen - it reminded you of the ones you'd seen back in Hawkins laboratory, though those seemed to just show images of you and your peers in real time and were much smaller than this.

You wondered who Steve was watching. 

Your furrowed brow in query isn't lost on him as he turns to look at you over his shoulder as he leads you into the room. Objects you didn't recognise littered the room and large plants were seated in pots; for what reason you couldn't decipher. 

But he draws you from your visual exploration before you have a chance to question it, arm splaying out in gesture to the seats before him. "Have a seat. There's not much on at this time, but it should help pass the time." He says, hands fisting together to ease some of the tension in the room in a futile maneuver.

As if to demonstrate how comfy they were, he slumps down into one, arm slung over its back in the most forced display of relaxation you think you'd ever seen.

Bite your tongue, Two. You chide yourself at the snippy remark that had been threatening to spill from your lips. He needs to think we trust him, remember?

So with a low sigh expelled through lips set in a hard line, you perch on the edge, looking at him from the corner of your eye. It wasn't comfortable at all to you. It felt too soft, too unfamiliar... It's not long before you send him a hesitant smile before slipping onto the floor in front of the couch instead, knees bent to tuck your legs into a crossed position. Much better. 

He seems to nod to himself after a moment of simply watching you, apparently deciding that in the grand scheme of things that had happened lately, you sitting on the floor instead of the couch wasn't entirely strange in his opinion.

Steve's slender form stretches out, retrieving the remote from the table and flicking the screen to life. Your eyes widen and fixate on it at once, glazing over as you watch a scene unfold. Were these real people? They looked real enough, but why would Steve be watching them? 

You were only filled with more questions as your frown deepens, elbows resting on your knees as you lean forward to try and work out what was going on in front of you. 

"Hey, umm... I have a brush for your hair if you need it?" He mumbles and when you turn to face him, his eyes were trained on the matted lengths still dripping from your shower. You briefly wandered if he might be insulting their mangled visage, but he only offers a soft and polite smile, showing you that he meant no malice with his words.

Your fingertips instinctively tug at a scraggly tendril as you nod and Steve disappears from your side, leaving you to watch the screen once more. A man and a woman, arguing with one another over something he'd apparently done wrong. 

Chewing on your lip, you continue watching, only gaining more confusion in the process. When Steve returns, he hands you a thick brush which you take with a grumbled 'thank you'. You turn it over in your hands a few times, feeling the stinging scrape of the bristles as they run over your fingertips. 

At the lab, hair had never been much of a problem since they kept it clipped. It grew during your time in isolation, but since you never knew what to do with it, you simply kept it tucked back, away from your face and the way it fell into your eyes. It was much the same in the other place with Henry too, but you felt a sting of shame at the knowledge this was the first time you'd used anything other than your fingers to comb through your locks. 

Settling it brush side down over your hair you pull, wincing as it rakes into a thick knot and pulls at your roots. You keep pushing, teeth clenched against the pain as you try to push the knots free.