"either way, we're not alone..."
In which Sophie Hargrove struggles to close off her heart, especially when she starts to let Steve Harrington in.
STRANGER THINGS
SEASON TWO - SEASON FIVE
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Steve let her borrow a couple of things from his bedroom, setting up a bed on his couch downstairs. He pulled a few curtains in the living room, giving her the privacy she needed. Sophie emerged from the bathroom, her hair tied into a loose ponytail. She wore an oversized blue shirt over a pair of light-pink pyjama shorts. Her other clothes were hung on a nearby airer, damp from an earlier rainfall that Sophie found herself walking through on the journey to Steve's abode.
She was glad he didn't leave her outside, stranding her in the cold night with a mysterious creature on the prowl. Guilt lingered behind her eyes, however, feeling bad for pressuring him to let her stay at his house. It was wrong for her to show up at his home unannounced, but she couldn't think of anywhere safer for her to go.
After pulling the sheer curtain across his back door, he turned to her, watching her plump a cushion. "You're really okay with sleeping on the couch?"
They shared a brief glance, Sophie nodding. "Yeah, I'm good."
He released a long yawn, his chest tightening. "Come on -- this is a four-bedroom house, and that includes mine." Sophie froze, unsure of what he was insinuating. His eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. "But obviously, I'm not -- I wouldn't ask-"
"I'm fine here." She declared, sitting down on the couch with an insistent smile. "Really, I am."
"Okay." Steve scraped a hand through this thick, unkempt hair, grease lingering on his fingers. He stared on as Sophie reached into her backpack, removing some items and placing them on the floor beside her feet. His eyes narrowed, recognising the brand of hairspray and hair mousse cans she had on her. "You brought your hair products?"
Sophie stopped, tilting her can of mousse to the side. "Yeah, my hair's gonna look terrible in the morning. It goes frizzy in the rain."
She put it down next to the rest of her items before rummaging through her bag again, pulling out a can of Farrah Fawcett spray.
"Hey, I have-" They both froze, their eyes meeting once more. He swallowed his pride, reaching behind his neck and giving it an awkward scratch. Steve averted his gaze, hiding his flushed cheeks. "- My mom has that too. She loves Farrah Fawcett."
"Good minds think alike, I guess." She commented, placing it on the ground. It tipped a little, but she steadied the can with her fingers, making sure it wouldn't fall. A howl in the distance made itself known, and her head snapped towards the window, peering through a gap in the curtain. "What was that?"
"Oh, probably just a fox." Steve hoped. His fingers grazed the hem of the curtain, gently drawing it towards him to close it fully. "They come by often since I live right next to the woods, but the street noise scares them away."
"Isn't that a bit creepy?" she wondered.
He turned back to her. "Well, yeah, when I was a kid, I thought a monster would come out and eat me."
