Missing [ST]

Fifty Seven

A/N !! CUE THE CLICHÉS PEOPLE BECAUSE THE WAIT IS ABOUT TO BE WORTH IT!! (I hope 😭)
Also one of my favourite non-stage outfits Steven has worn so I thought I'd include it as a reference to what he's wearing!

<>

Leah didn't turn around. She just couldn't.

She didn't want to believe it was real, or if she did, she was begging to be alone again. She wished she would have listened to Tina and agreed that she wasn't ready, and chosen any other day to visit so she didn't have to deal with him. But this was just fate's way of delivering a kick in the teeth with a passion to suffer, because her suffering always revolved around Steven.

"You didn't...call."

His voice really wasn't helping either. It instructed the powerful instinct that imagined what he looked like- if the bruises had faded completely, and a thin wavy white line scarred his cheek. If his hair was still long, and dark and fell around his shoulders, eyes a calming mix of browns, and mouth generously pink and soft with no scab to-

"Leah?"

He was here. Steven was really here. Standing close enough for her to pick up too many details like the black skinny jeans and belt occupying the loops, the outrageous pink espadrilles that covered his bare feet, and some sort of thin, patterned fabric partnering a white under layer.

His torso, less than an arm's length away.

Leah blinked so she wouldn't stare, but she was learning his presence in a textbook manner page by page, and watching his fingers slowly return to his side was a sign that he knew he had skipped a few too many of those pages in the manual for spontaneous meetings.

But she couldn't take it. The anticipation of acknowledging each other filled their silence, and the next thing she knew, she was stepping on the outside of her unstable foot to face him properly, give in, and finally lift her eyes past his chest.

Steven was waiting for her, all fresh faced with a fading tan tinting his complexion, but it was still a surprise to be confronted with the very image of this unforgettable man, standing on the same patch of grass as her, and with the backdrop of established pine trees behind him.

The end of his hair had been trimmed, layers providing a flattering wavy texture. It still fell in a thick fringe to his eyes, but the edges faded into longer lengths over his ears. There was no swelling over his nose, which remained free from a curious dent, no more stitches held delicate skin together, and there was not a bruise in sight to break her heart.

"You look...your hair is different," Steven noted faintly, drawing her attention to his warm, brown eyes. Ones that searched her face like it was their duty. "A nice...different."

Leah couldn't think.

No guys ever notice when a woman has had her hair done, especially when it wasn't anything more extravagant than a few inches lopped off the bottom and a neatened texture cut back in. But it was exactly the kind of detail Steven would pick up on, and Leah was distracted by all of those details she could see in him too.

He looked well- she couldn't deny that, but being healthier in weight, dressed in a style that suited him perfectly, and smelling like addictive cherries that were as sweet as the little tug of his mouth he displayed around chewing a piece of gum, was starting to get on her nerves.

In a spit of rising frustration, she frowned.

"Of course I didn't call!" Leah exclaimed, dismissing the gentle tone that he had set.

Steven seemed to teeter away, which gave her the precious room to work with.

"What did you expect!?" she professed, but the fast rhythm that had her worked up, had already reached a screeching halt.