@chiefhop from a starter call !
he's sat upon the end of a molded plastic chair as if he's concerned it won't hold him. steve watches as a drop of rain slides down his raincoat, catches to another, and falls to the tiled floor with a small splash. he hadn't been in the hawkins police station in a while–- the previous time being after a party at the harrington's got busted and steve was ' lucky enough ' to have been personally driven to the station while awaiting a response from his father. while he waits, heart pounding in his chest, he finds humor in the thought that maybe hopper won't remember that being their last encounter.
he kept replaying the drive in his head. the way the road had gone unnaturally dark. the static crackle through the radio, interrupting the chorus of owner of a lonely heart by yes. that feeling ( cold and familiar ) — like being watched from just beyond the treeline. steve hadn’t seen anything. that almost made it worse. the gentle hum of the generator fills the room until footsteps ascend to the office door, and it creaks open to reveal chief hopper.
steve's gaze lifts at the sound, and he allows something resembling an attempt at casual to be forced over his face, despite his bouncing knee he'd been leaning over. he brushed a hand through damp hair, making it a stick up even worse.
he's probably got about fifteen seconds before hopper immediately jumps to ' bullshit '. ❛ look ... ❜ he started, before anything could be said by the chief. ❛ i know how this sounds. and i wouldn’t be here if it was nothing. i just–- ❜ he hesitates, closing his eyes momentarily and hoping not to appear too out of his mind. ❛ something followed me ... and i didn't imagine it. ❜
