T W E N T Y - F O U R

3.6K 121 72
                                    

It was nine o'clock, the night before your last final. After days of constant studying, only taking breaks to refuel with food, Steve had convinced you to take the rest of the evening off. He had been going on about how important it was to not study the night before an exam, saying it was like running a five-k the day before a marathon. Besides, you figured you had studied more than enough for this test and that whatever studying you would do at this point would only further turn your brain into a soft pile of mush. That's how you found yourself in Steve's bed, his back against the headboard and you curled up in between his legs, resting against his chest.

"Do you know any nursery rhymes?" you asked, sleepily.

"Probably a couple," Steve replied, as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, an action that always made you fall asleep. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking about something I read in one of the baby books my mom gave me," you began. For a moment you thought you felt Steve tense a little at your words, his hands moving from your hair and didn't understand why he was acting odd. Then you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him so you brushed it off.

"Apparently, singing the same song everytime the baby cries can be a continual source of comfort for whenever it's stressed. And introducing music at a young age can help speed up the baby's cognitive development," you noted, watching Steve's hand come to rest on your stomach where your baby had temporarily made a home for itself.

"Anyway I realized I don't really know the lyrics to any child appropriate songs. I figured singing to the baby about how my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard might be frowned upon."

Steve chuckled and then went quiet for a moment, lazily drawing circles where your baby bump must have been days from showing, patting it lightly.

"Well there's this one song my mom used to sing whenever she was cooking. You Are My Sunshine?"

"How does it go?" you asked innocently.

"You don't know? I thought it was a pretty popular song back in the day," he responded, slightly confused.

You shrugged your shoulders which Steve must have taken to mean that you didn't know the song. He leaned forward so that his chin was resting on your shoulder as he began to sing the words of the song quietly.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy, when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

When he stopped singing, he moved his head from your shoulder and back to the head board, pulling you with him.

You had lied before. When he said the song title you had recognized it instantly but you had wanted to hear him sing it for you, curious to hear what his voice would sound like. You hadn't expected this. You had never really listened to the lyrics before but hearing the words flow effortlessly from Steve's mouth had changed the song entirely. He sang like he meant every word. As if the lyrics were his own words written just for you. You felt captured by the rich tone of his voice. He might not have hit every note, but that hadn't made the moment or the song any less perfect.

"I think that's the one. That's the song,"  you said simply, feeling too overcome with the powerful emotions to tease him for singing to you.

Did Steve mean any of the words, or had you just imagined the whole thing? It felt as if this song had been a way of telling you that he loved you without actually saying it. But maybe you were just overthinking? Was there a chance that Steve had actually fallen in love with you? Your relationship was still so young that it felt like the l-word should remain somewhere in the far off distance. But the thought that Steve might have actually fallen in love with you didn't terrify you like you thought it would. It made you happy. Like an over the moon, you just met your celebrity crush, once in a lifetime kind of happy. Did that mean there was a chance you might love him too?

Just SteveWhere stories live. Discover now