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At your house:

The song was good. No, it was great. I mean, Steven wrote it, how can it not be? It was just... missing something. If you were going to win, you were going to have to make some cuts and additions. After all, it was your song at the end of the day.

I don't want it to be a song about him, you thought. The whole thing was just insulting your ex, and you wanted it to be more about you. You've moved on! You're doing good- great- without him. You've even found someone ne-

Oh-

Ok. That's it.

Now understanding the appeal of Steven's war-zone of a notebook, you began scribbling your own thoughts onto paper as fast as you possibly could. You changed some lyrics around, added some big belty notes, yada yada yada, themes of female empowerment, yada yada yada...

And, boom. You had the perfect song.

Thank you, Steven, you thought. For not only giving me your song to go off of, but also inspiring a completely different takeaway.

💫

For the next couple of days leading up to the big show, it took nearly all of your energy not to gush about your new and improved song to Steven. You couldn't spoil it for him, no matter how much you wanted to.

You had seen him every day since you met, having coffee, getting lunch, running around Funland... and it was one of the best weeks of your life. You couldn't believe how much fun you were having with someone you had only just met. It felt like you'd known each other forever.

One day, over coffee, tea, and book shopping, Steven finally "made a move."

You had found a book that you wanted to check out on a high shelf, while Steven checked out his own books with a librarian. You were balanced atop the squealing library step-stool when one of its legs gave in and you began to fall, stopping only inches from the ground after dropping right into Steven's arms.

"Are you okay?" The boy asked. He had a light pink flush and was panting slightly after using his super speed.

"Y-yeah," you blushed-hard. "Th-thank you." He held you for a moment too long, admiring the girl in his arms before snapping back to reality and gently lowering you to your feet. He looked around, trying to piece together what happened. He then noticed the disheveled books on the top shelf and the broken stool.

"Here, I can grab something for you," Steven offered. "Which one did you want?"

Feeling embarrassed, you covered your warming cheeks with one hand, and pointed to the book you wanted with the other. Steven grabbed the book and gave it to you, his fingers lingering on your hand for a moment.

You moved the book under your opposite arm so that Steven could intertwine his fingers with yours. Finally. And, although you felt silly thinking it, you couldn't help but feel that the two of you were meant to hold hands. No one else's has fit so perfectly with yours. It just felt... right.

💫

It was the day before the talent show, and you had invited Steven over to help you decide what to wear for the show. You wanted it to be bold and bright, but not look like you were trying too hard.

Steven, however, was no help.

"Okay, how about this one?" You asked, showing off the newest outfit with clashing colors and wrinkled fabric.

"Gorgeous!" Steven exclaimed genuinely.

"Ugh, you liar!" You laughed, playfully punching his shoulder. He had said you looked good in everything so far. Including a very loved pair of food-stained sweatpants.

"I'm telling the truth!" Steven said defensively. "It's not my fault if you look good in everything," he muttered, half-wanting you to hear it. You're glad you did.

"Okay, you know what?" You started, getting back into your everyday clothes behind a privacy screen. "Screw this. Let's get some food."

"Awww what?" Steven pouted. "Why??"

"Because you're no help!" You emerged, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and converse. "Besides, I'm starving anyway."

"But-" Steven's own stomach growling cut him off. He looked down and put a finger to his gut, shushing it. You couldn't help but laugh.

What a goof.

You started gathering up your stuff to leave.

"Okay, okay," Steven began, walking with you. "Are we more in the mood for pizza or fries?"

"Is that it?" You asked. "Pizza and fries?"

"Well, yeah," Steven shrugged, "there's only like, 5 dining establishments in Beach City."

"Right, okay. Pizza sounds good," you suggested.

"Haha, I was hoping you'd say that," Steven said, whipping out four VIP(IZZA) cards. He laughed; "I've been saving up."

💫

"Okay," Kiki said, setting the pizza down at your table. "That's one large pizza with half pepperoni, and extra cheese."

Steven sat across from you, licking his lips and gazing at the pizza with endless love.

I need a man to look at me the way Steven looks at his pizza, you thought. Or Steven. That would also work.

You took a slice of pizza from the pie and took a bite- "Mmmph! Thatsh good pitha!" You and Steven laughed, mouths full.

"Mm, mm, mm! The flavors are melting on my tongue!" Steven exclaimed before laughing with you again.

His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment, until he looked back up to your eyes and smirked; "you've got pizza sauce on your chin." You blushed and tried to wipe it away, failing miserably according to Steven.

"Here, I'll get it," Steven chuckled.

He leaned forward slowly, raising his hand to your face. You watched his face get closer and closer to yours while yours heated up. You'd never seen him so up-close before, and you were noticing things you hadn't before. Like, how his deep brown eyes were speckled with gold, and how his smile lines creased all around his eyelids. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he wiped your chin with his thumb. You stifled a laugh when you noticed how his tongue stuck out slightly; something that happened when he focused.

When Steven pulled back, you felt a sense of relief and disappointment all at once. Your face had just begun to return to its normal color when you made eye contact with Steven- who was licking the sauce off his thumb.

Aaaand you blushed all over again.

That night, you went to bed extra early so you could rise before the sun on the following day; the big day. Talent show day.

You slept with butterflies in your stomach, hearts in your eyes, and dreams of Steven in your head.

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