Connie was thrilled at the way her hair wasn't so frizzy anymore since Steven had suggested how to take care of the coarse hellscape she used to have. The sun was shining hard and she let it.

She wasn't in a hellishly terrible mood, it was just okay and that was fine. Days were melting together again, and childishly she thought about nothing else but her night under the stars with Steven a week ago. That made four weeks of absence since she went home. Connie hadn't heard anything from Audra since she started begging her for access to Steven like she would have it. He wasn't her Steven, at least... not yet? He was rebuilding, and after rebuilding she had to see if she loved the renovations as much as she did the older things. He'd age, he'd be afraid, he'd mature. She hoped that wouldn't be the killer for her. She believed her maturity levels were slightly higher than her peers.

Her mind wandered back to Steven's home and she froze as a terrible realization spread across her face in the form of fury. Connie picked up her phone and called him immediately, trying to sound stern when he answered. "So when were you gonna tell me you needed a place to crash while you figured things out?"

He chuckled and made a sound like he was stretching. "Good morning and eventually... Actually, probably wouldn't have. I think I'm kind of shy."

Connie rolled her eyes and grabbed her keys. "You're an idiot, Steven. You need food and shelter and clothing and..." She took a deep breath to quell her rage. "And probably a shower!"

Steven laughed even fuller this time after a short silence. "I've been bathing in the river I'll have you know and where the hell am I going to crash? My dad..." He must not have wanted to talk about it because he backtracked. "I'll get a hotel if it'll make you feel better."

Everything in Connie wanted to offer him to stay with her. It ached through her so violently she almost blurted it. "Or–! Okay, that would make me feel a lot better. Self care is really important right now."

She imagined him tipping his head, but he didn't say anything other than, "Have you eaten?"

She laughed. "Get a hotel, Steven. Sleep in a bed."

Steven sighed obnoxiously. "Hold on. I've gotta go."

Connie sighed as her phone beeped to signal the call disconnecting and glanced out the window. Maybe she should go back and make sure he was keeping his word.

No. No she couldn't do that. That was her impulses wanting to be close to him again, and she needed to not force anything.

Little by little she was finding her sanity again. Part of her was guilty wondering if college hadn't been the reason for her loss of sanity in the first place.

Maybe it was forcing herself to be around an environment that was essentially poisoning her.

Her doorbell ringed and she startled out of her train of thought, confused on who exactly would be visiting. Sometimes her parents stopped by unannounced. It had been awhile.

She sauntered over and tried to look confident as she swung it open. "Hi... Dad."

Steven turned various shades of red before he cleared his throat. "Is that a kink thing or...?"

Connie gasped and shoved at him. "Not funny! What are you doing standing outside my door? Come in."

He seemed really nervous, but took a few timid steps in. "It's very Connie-esque in here."

"Yep," Connie muttered as she started frantically cleaning. "Very 'I Have Clinical Depression-core'."

She needed to do the three dishes sitting in her sink. She needed to sweep and vacuum and god, did it smell like depression too? She'd just taken a shower that morning, but did she smell?

She was overwhelmed so much that she didn't notice Steven now standing next to her before he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for intruding. Are you gonna be okay?"

Connie giggled and tossed her hair. "Oh yeah, totally. I'm completely fine."

"You're bad at masking too."

Again, her feelings were terribly hurt. "Rude. My therapist says I'm excellent at masking, thank you."

He removed his hand cautiously and leaned against the counter to just stare at her. "Why are you acting scared?"

She scoffed and crossed her arms challengingly. "Of you? Don't make me laugh, Steven."

Steven smirked. "Of yourself."

Connie's jaw dropped and she stalked away to grab a hard seltzer from the fridge. "Don't quit your day job, Steven. You're not very funny." Still, she found herself giggling as she cracked the lid off on the counter and downed as much as she could. Steven raised his eyebrows as she finished it in six seconds flat and wiped at her cheek. She caught him staring and sighed heavily. "So I'm a little tense."

"A little," He parroted with a thin smile. "Okay. I just came by to ask you something."

Connie could feel her digestive system screaming in fury at her speed run to alcoholism, but she climbed the counter adjacent to Steven to grab her high end wine anyways. "Go ahead."

"Please get off the counter," He blurted suddenly. "Your sudden neurosis is very distracting to someone who hasn't been laid in over a year."

Connie slid off and then slid down the counter laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. She turned red but was thankful for the cover. Steven chuckled at her reaction and watched her grip her sides. "Okay! I'm listening, no need for shock factor."

"Good." He tipped his head and sighed heavily. "I was wondering if you'd come help me pick out a hotel. I'm kind of..." He gestured to his head. "Out of it."

Connie stood and poured herself a very large cup of wine. "Of course."

"You're binge drinking," He pointed out, coming to take the cup. "You don't have to help me. I can man up and ask my dad. Forget I said anything."

Connie patted his cheek like she used to. "You wouldn't have asked if you didn't need the help genuinely, and if you're asking me it means you want me there."

He blushed and reached up to where she'd touched, frowning and staring at the wine. "I think I kind of want some wine, too."

There was a million and ten reasons not to do that: the main one being that if they both got drunk, things would indefinitely get out of control quickly. But she smiled to herself and nodded, pouring a more suitable amount for him. "Just don't get any ideas."

Steven actually laughed. "Oh, thank you, Connie. Gosh, you know maybe I'll go sit on your bed casually so to not be near you and cause any trouble." He rolled his eyes and downed his fast.

"Are you hungry?" She mumbled into her cup. She'd forgotten how charismatic he could be even when he was nervous. "You're looking a little thin."

"I haven't eaten anything in two days," He recounted, staring at the floor. "Hard to eat when your wife has two kids with someone else."

Connie stumbled on responding to that. They sat in another awkward silence for an awkward amount of time before Steven giggled, a few tears welling up in his eyes. "It's funny, isn't it? I'm so upset over something I have no control over..." He wiped at his face and blew out a low breath. "But if I knew it was all a lie, I guess that's on me."

Connie wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "Let's get you to bed, okay? You can't heal if you're exhausted."

"How do you know I'm exhausted?"

She hid her grin in his chest. "You're not glowing."

Steven nodded and hugged her too. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. His arms were large and polar bear like with muscle just barely underneath the baby fat. He was still warm to the touch like always. Connie was acutely aware of his heart pounding against her temple, but it was kind of soothing. In fact, it felt so good to just have a lingering hug that she forgot herself for a moment and teared up.

Human touch was so nice, why had she been denying herself for so long?

She felt his fingers twitch and Steven sucked in a breath. He pushed her away suddenly, turning to lean over the counter with his head down. "See, that was inappropriate."

Connie immediately went right back to hating herself and turned away too. "I'm sorry."

"I meant me." He seemed to get over it quickly and grabbed his keys. "We should go before the wine settles too much more."

The corners of her lips upturned and she was grateful he couldn't see it. She could be inwardly selfish, as long as it didn't leak into her behavior. "Right, let me find my keys."

The first hotel was actually being renovated and had no rooms available.

"It's okay," Connie told Steven, trying to be encouraging. "There's like, ten hotels within a reasonable budget around here. We'll find one."

He gave her a sarcastic pump of his fist. "Oh, goody. I can't wait."

The second had been closed for years.

She giggled and shook her head. "Onto the next one."

The third was completely booked.

The fourth was booked out until a month later.

The fifth through tenth gave them both a bad feeling, something about them and the clerks gave them the creepy crawlies. Connie mentioned to Steven that sometimes a bad feeling was indeed a warning, and he muttered under his breath, "Then what's a good feeling?"

She turned scarlet but refused to look at him again until she was positive he wasn't looking. A quick glance and they made eye contact at the same time, both blushing heavily and guilty looking.

They found one on the outskirts but it was so dirty Connie could not have left him there in good conscience.

Now Steven was grinning too and he shrugged when Connie gave him the stink eye. "It's fine, I liked living in nature. It's peaceful."

"You're not living outside like an animal, Steven," Connie repeated for the hundredth time. "Be optimistic."

The higher budget hotels were way higher than they'd expected, but eventually they found one that had a few rooms left near one in the morning. By then they were very giggly and not taking much seriously until the clerk smiled. "We have a few rooms available!"

The laughter stopped instantly, and both glanced away from each other. What was that nagging feeling of disappointment? Connie couldn't figure it out past the high of having so much fun. It was like her serotonin had run out suddenly.

She had to take a few moments to shake it off, but really she was just shoving it back down instead of dealing with it like Jeanne was telling her she should do. "Which rooms?"

Steven gave her an unreadable expression as the clerk scrolled through the list. "It looks like because of the concert in town it's really full, but we have three honeymoon suites and a presidential suite."

The Maheswaren couldn't help but notice how pale Steven got at the mention of Honeymoon. Actually, he looked a little nauseous as he muttered, "How much for the presidential?"

"5,400 even."

Connie burst out laughing and leaned against the counter. "Come again?"

They cringed. "I know it's not ideal, but if Honeymoon suites are out of the question then..."

Steven grabbed Connie's shoulder. "Look, most of the other ones will be free in like a month or so, I'll be fine."

Connie smiled at the receptionist brightly. "I'm sorry, could we just have a moment?"

"Of course." They gave him a 'good luck' look as she pulled him by his shirt outside and popped a hip.

He wasn't even looking her in her eyes, he was staring just over the top of her. "Connie, it's fine."

"Steven!" She exploded. "What if there's a storm or fire or something? Or flooding?! Plus, like I said earlier: you need shelter and stuff! How were you doing laundry, exactly?" Her eyebrow raised and it seemed Steven couldn't keep his straight face as it started to grow into a smirk.

"Look, it's not a big deal," He muttered.

She jumped up to clap her hands in front of his face. "Hey! What's so funny?!"

In what she could only allow herself to believe was a wine-driven move even though it had been hours, Steven picked her up and held her at an arms length away. "You're so protective! It's just kinda... I dunno. What are my other options?"

Connie noticed how far away the ground was. She was almost certain if she were dropped from this height every bone in her leg would shatter. Was Steven really that tall, or was she still a little tipsy? "Why don't I sleep on the couch and you can take the bed?"

He shook his head. "Unacceptable. You take the bed."

"Unacceptable. You take the bed," She countered immediately. "You need a bed to help with your back pain from carrying all those big old feelings around." Swinging her legs a little, she managed to drop out of his arms and not break them.

Steven rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous. I'm not going to intrude into your home and then sleep in your bed. I'm genuinely not going to because I am fine with the couch."

Connie crossed her arms and glared at him as hard as she could. "Fine, get in the car."

The second they got there Connie charged for the couch and Steven tried to grab her, but missed by an inch. "Oh look," She crooned. "Guess I have the couch now." He narrowed his eyes and she batted her lashes innocently. "You snooze, you lose."

Steven huffed. "I'll sleep in the tub if I have to."

Ugh, he was starting to work her last nerve but the more she thought about it, the more her mind wandered. It would make a little sense if he didn't want to sleep in her bed as a married man, but something else was tugging at her that told her maybe that wasn't the case.

What if there was a more primal reason he didn't want to? What if it made him feel...

"Oh." Her eyes widened and he sighed as if he were in pain. She felt guilt crawling up her throat and tucked her head against her chest like a scolded toddler. How could she have missed that? Steven was married! Once again, she'd taken things too far. "Right. Uhm, let me change the sheets?"

He sat next to her and nodded. "Sure, go do that if you'd like to. I really appreciate you, Connie."

She smiled and stood, giving her mind a task helped a little bit to drown out her thoughts. It was 2:12 in the morning and she was barely tired even after their very long hotel hunt.

Tugging the sheets off, she smiled subconsciously and it turned into a giggle. What would Jeanne say? Probably give her that smug but stern look and shake her head.

"Connie, do you think this is going to make things less tense between you two?"

She would lie and say something like, "Jeanne, nothing has even crossed my mind. I'm a big girl who can handle myself. It's only temporary."

Jeanne liked to sip her coffee before she said things that made Connie's stomach turn into a ball of iron. "What if this is the beginning of a permanent sleepover scenario?"

And Connie liked to fake oblivion. "What's that?"

Jeanne would take a longer sip, she did that when she knew Connie was being purposely obtuse. "It's when one party moves in temporarily, but never ends up leaving. Are you ready for that to happen?"

Yes.

No.

Maybe this was stupid.

No. Yes! She was going to therapy regularly. She was starting medication and exercising and she'd begin work again next week. Connie was certain her self doubt came from believing she was awful and selfish. Self care included trying not to hate herself, and slowly but surely she was getting there.

Very, very slowly.

She could admit there were underlying selfish intentions, but far more than wanting anything good for herself or believing she deserved it, she believed Steven needed a safe place. He needed a friend, and as his best friend if he was comfortable enough to accept, they would figure it out without doing anything detrimental to their mental health.

Their paths were converging into side by side lanes going the same direction, but not joined into one road yet. Steven was at the beginning of a long, hard journey; Connie was well on her way but still had a ways to go.

The bed was immaculate and the new comforter was a little girly, pink with roses that her parents had gotten her for a college gift. "Steven, beds ready!"

No response.

For a second she feared he'd left but walking back into the living room she slowed to a stop. He was asleep on the couch with the shadow of a shit eating smirk and a scrawled note lie on the table next to him. How long had she been disassociating?

'Checkmate.'

Connie wanted to strangle him, but nothing would be better than pulling a power move and refusing to lie down and take it. She grabbed her other blanket and pillows from her bed and crashed on the floor next to him.

Oddly enough, she was able to fall asleep quickly. The presence and soft snoring was gentle and lulling her into a state of comfort. It was just Steven, and she trusted him.

She was still competitive to her core, however.

Her sleep was dreamless and nightmare lacking. Just blissful darkness and then a warm, comforting calmness that made her feel like she was floating in unconsciousness.

The next morning she ended up sleeping in. The sun was high overhead and a bird running into her window made her startle awake.

She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She'd slept too long, but felt well rested enough. "I got really, really good sleep," She muttered to herself.

"Good."

Connie smacked her head in the table from jumping out of her skin at the voice. Her hazy mind had forgotten Steven was there, and for a second she couldn't find the voice.

But there he was, lying on the couch staring at her. "I was in and out. Are you okay?"

She blushed and laid back down. "Yeah, I'm fine." Actually her head hurt like a motherfucker, but she didn't want him to worry. "Jus' a scuff."

"I don't believe you." He sat up to reveal he was in new clothes and she took in more of him. He looked incredibly depressed and exhausted, but he still sported a small smile. "Come here."

Connie slunk over and tipped her head forwards to let him survey. "You're being over— ow!"

He pressed his thumb into her bump gently and she grew nauseous. The world spun, but when he took it away it just throbbed, not much else. "I... am struggling to believe I am not the cause of all of the worst things in the world. You have a head injury."

Connie gave him a nasty look. "Don't be ridiculous."

Steven picked her up and wrapped the blankets around her more before sitting her on his lap and sighing heavily. "Lord, forgive me." He pressed his lips to her bump and the pain turned into sheer panic.

"Steven!" She gasped, trying not to move as the healing flowed through her but slipping off his lap anyways. Her surprise got her another light hit on her forehead this time and she groaned from the pit of her stomach. "F-fuck. Why is being alive hell?"

She heard Steven wheezing with laughter only to find he was crying too. "I-I'm so sorry. It's a tiny bit funny but laughing— it only makes me want to cry."

He stuck a thumb in his mouth and pulled her head closer, brushing it over her forehead. The pain disappeared again and he turned over on the couch to pull the blankets over her head. His tears just stopped randomly. "Wake me when I've learned to stop caring."

Connie had never seen Steven cycle through emotions like that. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She sat there feeling stupid and helpless as his shuddering breaths evened out and he fell back asleep.

"Okay, then..."

Over the next three weeks, Steven repeated the same pattern:

He'd wake up devoid of all emotion.

"Good morning, Steven! How did you sleep?" She chirped pleasantly, pulling out supplies to cook before work.

When he didn't respond she'd find him staring at nothing blank faced and he'd sigh. "Who knows? Did you sleep okay?"

He'd starve himself until dinner.

"Steven!" Connie grabbed his hand to break him out of disassociative spell and squeeze. "Please. Eat something. I know you haven't eaten today!"

"Ugh, get off my back!" He growled, erupting into a pink glow that consumed him as he hunched over. "I can't eat!"

Connie's lip trembled and she pursed her lips to stop it. "Fine. Starve. But I'm making vegan stir fry for dinner."

She'd serve him anyways, and eventually when he thought she wasn't looking, he'd take a couple of bites. But after five maximum, he'd stare down at the food and zone out until it was cold. Then he'd go back to sleep.

He'd sleep all day.

"Steven, come on. Let's go on a walk," Connie suggested lightly, tugging the blanket off. One thing with Steven was he tended to smell like roses when he would get sweaty, and an oversaturated garden when he was horribly in need of a shower. One might think it was pleasant. It wasn't. "Oh my stars, Steven!" She coughed weakly. "When was the last time you had a shower?!"

He'd groan and bubble himself and fall back asleep.

Sometimes she had to laugh. Steven was kind of bad at being sad sometimes. He was doing the right things that sad people did, but sometimes he'd get excited about something and then get confused.

"Connie!" He greeted her at the door one evening and she immediately noticed a difference.

She smiled and blushed, it couldn't be stopped. "Someone's chipper today."

"Yep!" He'd cheese at her and it was so cute she yearned to pinch his cheeks. "I'm over it. Therapy went well and I'm totally fine now!"

Her smile dropped. This wasn't progression, it was regression. He wasn't even bothering trying to face the feelings, he was just turning the other direction. Suddenly
his enthusiastic mask cracked and she could see how miserable he was in his eyes and the bags under them. "It's been three months."

"Well, my emotional maturity happens to be quite high. Can't change that I wasn't enough, right?" He booped her nose and wandered off to the kitchen to make an incredible meal that always made her eat until she felt like a fat ass.

Repeat.

A month in she drove him to his house and he stared at it so long she was worried he was going to stop existing. The silence was sincerely deafening, her ears rang so loudly she stuck a finger in one and winced.

She blinked, literally, and he had disappeared. His house door was wide open.

Connie hesitated. Should she go in and support him while he got more stuff? Or would it be better to let him process on his own?

Glancing at the clock brought her bad news: she had therapy in 15 minutes. She'd known that, but she was feeling torn in two. More than anything she wanted to support Steven and he knew she had therapy... She wanted to stay.

But she had to make sure her mental health was stable before she could truly help him, she was learning.

Then some days, all they did was argue.

Connie pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. Steven was hurting, he was irritable and indefinitely depressed. She had to treat him with grace like he would if he was in her shoes.

However, she could see in his pill binder that he hadn't taken his meds for over a week and when she had opened the fridge to make dinner every single morsel of food was gone.

"I don't even know what to say to you," She mumbled picking her lip. "I cannot begin to describe how disappointed I am with you or how intensely I don't know what to do with you."

He grumbled under his breath, "Then don't say anything."

"But there are things that need to be said!" She snapped. "How did you eat an entire fridge of food in one day?!" He reddened and she caught his eyes flickering towards the bathroom. "Steven, are you binging and purging?!"

His eyes welled with tears and he scoffed. "That's fucking ridiculous you would even accuse me of that when you starve yourself for four days of the week!"

She gasped in offense and threw her purse to the floor. "Oh, so we're too exhausted to do a single task like taking medication but not too exhausted to accuse me of anorexia? At least I'm trying to get better!"

He laughed but it lacked humor or kindness. "Right, like how you drive yourself crazy burying yourself in work so you don't have to think about how you tried to kill yourself at my wedding? Cute."

Ouch.

Connie grabbed her purse. "When you have a better attitude, I will speak with you again."

"You're a hypocrite, Connie Maheswaren," He seethed quietly. "Just like I am. At least I know I'm depressed. At least I can acknowledge my failures."

Her feelings were so hurt she stormed out and got a hotel for a week without bringing any clothes or toiletries or anything.

She'd work, she'd come back and eat takeout and pass out. She'd work, she'd come back and eat take out and pass out. Some nights she wanted to go back and apologize but then she would work herself up into being mad again.

How dare he—? Ugh, okay so maybe she had been a little suicidal at his wedding, but she didn't make it a big deal! No one had even seen any of it save for like, four people by the door! It wasn't her fault they were there! It was his fault for letting Audra make her the Maid of Honor. What kind of sick, cruel joke was that to make someone watch their true love marry another woman?!

At least she was showering and clothing herself and going to work! He hadn't moved off that stupid couch in over four months! He wasn't even looking for a job!

She sighed and opened her phone, noting the date and realizing she didn't remember the last time she'd paid rent or bills for her car and apartment. Aching, she pulled up her insurance and clicked the pay button.

A pop up read, "You've paid off your insurance for the year. Would you like to start a new policy?"

She blinked. Lately her problem had been disassociating or derealizing the world. Maybe she'd already paid it off and she'd forgotten. Sometimes she felt like she was living in a game or a story, things felt oversaturated and predictable.

She opened her car payment and felt bile rising in her throat as a pop up appeared,

"Congratulations! You've paid off your car!"

"No..." Connie whispered in horror. "This isn't real."

The world around her stilled and turned to plastic as she scrambled with shaky hands to look at her electricity and cooling bills.

Paid out for a year.

"Please, no. Please, please, no!" She cried in agony. A searing pain and dread was burning a hole in her chest and stomach. By the time she reached her rent, she could only cry.

Paid out for the remainder of the year, and then the year after that.

She didn't know why it upset her so much. Normal people would be thrilled and happy they didn't have to pay for those things. They'd be singing and dancing. She had more fun money. She could buy some more things for her apartment. She could revamp her wardrobe like she'd been wanting to do.

Instead she could barely make it out the door. She stumbled past the desk and was sure the clerk was alarmed at how hard she was sobbing, but they said nothing that she could hear.

She was angry. Furious. With herself.

Connie felt so guilty she didn't even know what to say. Steven had been helping in the only way he could manage. Throughout this entire stay, when he'd needed her the most, he'd made sure her most basic needs were met like a depressed, starving... moody guardian angel.

And when she yelled at him, he hadn't mentioned it once as a bribe to leave him alone. He hadn't threatened her, he'd only called her out. And he was right. She was a hypocrite. Deep down she'd been judging him more than she'd been helping. Yes she had her own life, but Steven was becoming apart of that no matter how deeply depressed he was. Her mother's tough love had been coming from her, but maybe... Maybe Steven needed someone to be gentle with him for a while. His entire life had been flushed at random: the house he'd built for the woman he cared for, his plans for the future, and his feelings had been tossed in the trash like they were worthless and then Audra had the audacity to beg him to stay.

Steven had been abandoned by his wife. And then Connie abandoned him again.

She shoved her key in the door but stopped mid-step.

Steven was putting away groceries. The kitchen was clean, the carpets were vacuumed and she could see from the curly fullness of his hair that he had been showering consistently.

He didn't acknowledge her at all save for a slight pause as he was putting her favorite cereal away.

Connie decided to stop playing games and took a deep, cleansing breath. "Steven, I am not your mother. I'm not going to wag my finger at you, I am not going to guide or scold you. We should be able to talk respectfully to each other and I admit I've been going about this the wrong way. Do you want a hug, Steven?"

He stilled and placed both of his hands on the counter, dropping his head.

At first she thought he was ignoring her out of pettiness until she spotted pink sparkling splashing on her counter. His shoulders started shaking and she dropped her purse to surge for him.

He melted into her arms and squeezed tight, crying so hard his legs gave out. "She broke me, Connie. She really, really broke me."

She pressed his head to her stomach and rubbed at his scalp, shushing him gently. "She didn't break you, Steven. She just broke your heart." It occurred to her then that Steven was 90% heart. "Just... let it out. I'm not judging you. I'm here."

He started crying harder, dragging in pained breaths that broke her heart so badly. She wanted to fix it. She wanted to march up to Audra and sock her in the face. She wanted to change the past and tell herself to not cut Steven out for a degree she was barely even using.

Instead, she held him while he cried.

Eventually she had to sit. He tried to stop and pull away, but she placed his head on her lap and leaned against the counter. "You'll be okay, Steven. Not every day. But most days."

"I'm trying so hard," He mumbled brokenly. "I promise—,"

"Shhh..." She stroked over his cheek and he let out a shuddering sigh. "You don't have to explain it to me. Thank you."

He snuggled up closer. "Wh-why? For what? Being a burden? Being depressing to be around? Being stinky?"

Connie choked on a laugh and dropped a friendly kiss to his cheek. "No, dummy. For paying my bills. I've been so distracted I haven't been thinking about it, I might have ended up homeless without a car. It's been five months since I paid even one. I'm going through it too. And for actually cleaning. I'm really only good at making things look clean."

He tried to shrug it off. "It was nothing. Nothing compared—,"

"We aren't comparing."

Steven chuckled. "St-stop it."

"Why?" She teased. "You're my best friend, Steven~!"

He groaned and pulled his shirt over his face. "Nooooo... I'm trying to be sad!"

Connie laughed and tugged at his shirt just a little. "But you've been crying for hours... Let me feed you. Let me water you." She giggled at the slight glow she could see and ruffled his hair. "Let me take care of you. Just a little."

He groaned painstakingly and his legs curled up to his chest. "Ugh, Connie."

"Ugh, Steven."

He peeked out to attempt to glare at her but she giggled and pinched his cheek. "You wanna make dinner together? Together Breakfast for dinner? Huh? Does that sound fun?" A tiny smile grew on his face and she upped her excitement like he was a puppy. A tiny smile was like a puppy tipping his head, right? "You wanna make pancakes? Yeah?" He giggled! That was a full on tail wag equivalent! She gasped as if she'd just had the greatest idea in the world, drumming his cheek with her fingers to gain his full attention that she knew damn well she already had. "Ooo! You wanna make eggs and vegetarian sausage and bacon? You want some protein? You wanna make smoothies?!"

He burst out laughing after a moment of silence at her animated face and wiped at his eyes. "I honestly don't know what's worse: the fact that you're talking to me like a puppy or the fact that it's working."

"Together breakfast for dinner!" She cried passionately, climbing up to wiggle onto the counter.

Steven started crying again and she froze, worried she was pushing too hard but he grinned and yanked her off the counter to crush her in a hug. "I think I'm ready to try a little harder."

"And I'll try to set a good example," Connie promised, nuzzling into his chest when his hand stroked over her hair.

He chuckled. "You're not my mommy, you don't need to set an example for anyone but yourself."