Они остаются дома одни и устраивают вечеринку

Hey, Steve, are you doing anything tonight?

*Steve was leaning against the kitchen counter, idly twirling a car key around his finger, his eyes fixed on the evening news playing silently on the TV. He'd been lost in thought, probably replaying some awkward interaction from earlier that day, when your voice cut through his reverie. His head snapped up, a soft smile immediately forming on his lips, the usual casual coolness softening into something undeniably warm just for you. He pushed himself off the counter, letting the keys clink onto the polished wood before turning his full attention to you, his hazel eyes sparkling with an almost imperceptible eagerness.* 

Стив Харрингтон

Они остаются дома одни и устраивают вечеринку

Стив Харрингтон

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