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Stevens POV:
She didn't know how to use the shower. My shower isn't that confusing. Right?

I put fresh sheets in the bed, and put a few blankets on the floor for myself. Y/N seemed like a nice girl, so I assumed it would take a lot of convincing to get her to take the bed and let me sleep on the floor. Sure I wouldn't be able to sleep on the floor forever, but Bismuth could always build Y/N her own room, or we could add another bed.

She sure was taking a long time in there, I hope she's okay. I'm not going to check though, the last thing I want is to accidentally walk in on her naked.

-.-.-.-.-
Y/Ns POV:

⚠️Trigger Warning!⚠️

I need something sharp. A razor, a knife, even the corner of something sharp would work.

A razor. It was in the mirror cabinet, along with shaving cream and a bunch of other hand creams and lotions. (Hey, get your mind out of the gutter kid everyone had lotion). Did Steven shave? He was probably my age, but he one of those faces.

Cut.

It will relieve my pain.

I pressed the razor against my skin, taking a deep breath before pressing down. Ouch. Blood oozed out of the cut, dripping into the sink. I turned on the fossett and rinsed the blood off of the razor, then cleaning my arm. I opened another cupboard, pulling out a roll of bandages and wrapping my arm. I remembered the gash on my leg and wrapped it too.

Thank the stars Stevens pajama shirt was long sleeved, it would be utterly embarrassing to explain to him what I did. Unfortunately he also picked out shorts, but I didn't give myself the gash so it was more bearable to show. But that's not saying much.

I changed and stared my old clothes for a few seconds.

His clothes even smell like him. Is that creepy?

Just a little.

I bunched my old clothes up into a ball and exited the bathroom quietly. I wasn't trying to be quiet on purpose, it was just a habit. On the rare occasions my father would let me out of my room I had to be quiet or he would get angry.

I guess Steven had gone up to his room, because the living room and kitchen was empty, and dark. I crept over to the trash can I had noticed earlier and threw my old clothes away, earning a small smile from myself. I walked up the stairs into Stevens room. He was pacing around the room nervously, his hand pressed against his mouth to show that he was thinking about something.

He jumped a foot in the air when he noticed me. I mean that literally. His head smacked into the ceiling and he groaned. He laughed and moved to shut the door behind me. "I'm going to have to put a bell on you." He muttered.

My eyes widened. "What?" I took a step back.

He put his hands up in defense, "It's a joke! I mean your just really quiet. You can sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor." He pulled back the covers on the bed, motioning for me to lay down.

I shook my head and stayed in place. "No, it's your house. You should sleep in your bed."

Steven shook his head stubbornly. "No way! Your the guest." I scooted past him and sat down on the floor, wrapping myself up in a blanket. "Get on the bed." He crossed his arms and glared at me. He wouldn't hit me, right? He hadn't hit me yet, but he could at any moment. But it's not fair that he has to sleep on the floor. After I made it clear I wasn't moving he bent down to me. "Fine." He muttered. Before I could even blink, he scooped me up and tossed me -lightly- onto the bed. His bed was really comfortable... I haven't slept in a bed in years. He smiled at me, content with that he accomplished. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table and laid down on the floor.

I slowly got under to covers, snuggling into the warmth that greeted me. Steven spoke up. "Good night!" I heard him shift again, then everything was still.

-.-.-.-.-

Word Count: 732

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