Paralyzed

Home?

Your POV

In nearly seconds, you were swept out of your wheelchair and into Stevens arms as he sent the deadliest glare to the man across from him (He had gotten slightly taller since he left home). "S-Steven... It's no big deal." you mumble into his jacket, and you could feel the angered male rip his eyes off of the nurse before walking away, you still in his arms.

You ended up sleeping on the walk even though it was a good five minutes. He set you on his bed, covering you in blankets and resting your head on his pillow. He smiled. The blue gem on your leg had been a Lapis Lazuli.

He knew that you had experienced the same thing as his Lapis, and that you would eventually have the same powers. He was slightly comforted by the fact that you were just like him - a hybrid. Of course, you had no family, but other than that, you were quite similar. 

He had only known you for two days and a half, and he considered you his best friend, maybe even more than that. Family? He couldn't really tell, and he really didn't want to go all 'lovey dovey' (as Amythyst described it) on them.

He walked over to the couch, sitting there, drifting off to sleep.
He didn't notice you, who seemed to wake up. 

You stood up, still getting used to legs. You walked over to the kitchen sink, which was full of dirty dishes. You sigh, chuckle, then get to work. You didn't know how to do most things because you had stayed in a hospital bed for over 11 years, but you had enough logic.

You took a sponge nearby and wet it under the sink's water. You smile, taking the dish soap from the counter. You didn't really know how much to put on the plate you were attempting to clean, so you put a small amount to clean.

Apparently, that was enough, because after an insane amount of scrubbing, it seemed as though it was fully covered in bubbles. You try to hold back a laugh, as you wash off the sponge and plate.  You grab a thin kitchen towel, for which you assumed that it was for drying off the dishes after washing. Of course, you were right.

You continued to wash the dishes, varying from forks, spoons, knifes, bowls, other plates, cups, ect- You made sure to set them in neat piles. After that, you walked back into Steven's room, looking at his desk.

You found what you were looking for- a pack of sticky notes and a pen.

'Enjoy clean dishes <3
        -- Y/N'

You were starting to regret putting that heart there, but it was in pen, and you were too lazy to scrap that one and do another. You set the supplies back on his desk, then you walked up to him. You stuck the sticky note on his forehead, then turned on the TV (they are in his apartment, remember?) and curled up next to him, suddenly feeling cold.

You drifted off to sleep effortlessly as he woke up. His vision was blocked by a f/c sticky note. How clever. He pulled it off his face, reading it. His face burned as he saw the tiny heart drawn on it. He looked over to see piles apon piles of clean dishes.

He groaned and got up carefully, making sure not to wake your sleeping figure. He had just about put away the silverware before you woke up again. "You really didn't have to do that." he sighed in disappointment. You mumbled, "But I was bored, and I wanted to test my knowledge on what to do in a normal, daily, life."

Steven paused. He had forgotten about the fact that you hadn't grown up normally either. Instead, you grew up neglected and told that you were going to be murdered. You weren't able to move.

Steven shivered, thinking, 'I would've died if I had to sit in the same spot for 11 years.' his next thought was, 'Then how the hell do they use the bathroom-?' although he never asked out loud. You had gotten up, and you were walking like a normal person.

This was something you would eventually get used to. Steven was just glad he didn't have a disability at a young age. Sure, he had some mild depression, it was nothing compared to what you went through. Of course, you would think the other way around, that Steven had it worst.

The truth was you both had a pretty bad childhood.
There was no lying about that.

He looked at you. You locked eyes with him, smile wide. "Do you consider this home?" he asked, catching you off guard. You think and say, "Wherever you are, I'll consider my home." his heart shattered at the genuine care in your voice.

He started to tear up, and he quickly looked up, trying to not let tears escape. "Oh my gosh!" you say, rushing to his side. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" you squeak out the apology, and he's laughing.

"No, it's fine!" he says, "I was happy crying." you didn't know what that was, but you shrugged and went along with it, hoping he wouldn't realize your lack of realization for a normal emotion. You were never really happy, having never experienced it until now.

'Why am I so fuzzy?'
You asked yourself, unaware of the evident answer.