Autumn came early that year; drizzling droplets of amber and ruby, sprouting golden and bright-yellow-green in the shrubs around their building. Outside the windows of their little flat the world was shaking, wet-dogged-like before an exhale: ready, ready. Draco wasn’t. Stirring a cup that might have gone cold, staring at the one branch of reddening leaves sway with the wind.
A shuffle: at the kitchen door, impossibly lovely, sleep-crusted face scrunched on a frown. Harry, in his old jumper and boxer shorts, in, infuriatingly, only one sock. All at once it rushed in Draco’s belly, gushing and tight: affection so large it barely even fit, surging hot and fierce right through him.
“What are you doing,” Harry grumbled, “out of bed?” coming to collect him, two arms wrapped around his waist. Forgot to put on his house coat, forgot he was cold. Forgot that this was breathing, in, out, with the guiding rhythm of Harry’s chest.
“The appointment,” he remembered to say. “It’s, we don’t have much time. To prepare.”
“What’s there to prepare?” a huff of a laugh, warm and slightly moist on the back of his neck. “You ridiculous creature. It’s not even seven.”
“And we need to be there by ten,” admonishing, but gently. “I have your clothes ready.”
“Do you.”
“With a tie, and so help me, you’ll wear it. We need to make a good—impression. If we want…” a helpless look up and then down to the floor. Colour rising high on his cheeks, warm-warm and telling.
“Darling,” Harry breathed. Pressed a small kiss to the back of his head. “It’s going to be fine.”
“But what if—” turning in his arms so he could valiantly—no, hide in the crook of his neck: “What if it goes wrong.” The problem, as always, was jumping ahead of himself; the problem was he was already in love with the place. With the ivy on the walls and the copse of trees at the back, with the window that looked out onto the burn and a faint, persistent smell of lavender that lingered in the eaves. That it could be theirs, this little dream. Draco’s never allowed himself…
Gentle fingers in his hair; his eyes closed on their own. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. We’ll get the loan approved, and the house is ours. Mrs. Tinsberry said—”
“I know,” tightly. “I know what she said.” Heard himself swallow under the rustling of the wind. “It’s only, I can’t help but think—” the words jagged in his throat: “I wasn’t meant for such loveliness.”
His parents’ estate with its neat garden, rigid, clean rows of perfect blossoms; rooms that were so scared to move even their air froze still, beautiful things that were to be looked at and never-ever touched. Straight-backed chairs and tall, lean windows that offered magnificent, manicured views of a world that wasn’t real, never could be. And Draco inside it, so frightened to breathe too loudly or speak at the wrong turn or make the slightest deviation, the most miniature of mistakes, and ruin everything.
Had ruined everything. Should not be rewarded for cowardice or for cruelty. And the little house on the burn with its wilderness of a garden, with its crooked corridors and bright curtains and wonky chimney, with its nooks and cheerful cabinets and tiny attic, it was—it was perfect, and not for him. For Harry, yes, with someone good and beautiful and sweet, someone who could keep him safe and take care of him the way he deserved. For… the words stung in his chest: for Harry and his family.
Resolutely: “I—” but he wasn’t ready for those green eyes, for the look that went all the way from his lip (trembling) to his nose (sniffling) to his eyebrows (frowning) to his forehead (scrunched).
“Draco,” Harry said, “you idiot,” and proceeded to crush him so tightly it robbed him of air, of reason. Draco let himself melt into the embrace the way he always did, and forgot what was still crushing in his windpipe.
(Read more on AO3 or under the cut)
Harry’s hand on his chin—fought it on instinct and lost. Gulped a bit, miserably, at the determination on Harry’s face. “Silly creature,” he said in a thick voice. “You deserve all the loveliness. You—no, you absolute goose, look at me. This is our life now. You and me, do you hear? We’ll get the house and we’ll be so fucking happy in it, together, and I won’t—I’ll never let you forget just how much loveliness you deserve. Draco, it’s all of it.”
Whimpered, fought to be released, to bury his face in Harry’s jumper and never have to see him again, pretend he didn’t hear the words. In his heart he knew he’ll ruin this too, ruin anything good, and also, in his heart, he knew this: Harry won’t let him. Insufferable Harry, brave and generous and too kind, stupid and loving and gorgeous and soft.
Draco shook, and the smell of the jumper (lemony-sweet and wool) and the warmth of Harry’s skin seeping from under it and the pinch of cold air on his exposed shoulders—this early morning and all of it, all of it, stuffed so tight and humming, incessant, relentless.
“All right,” he surrendered, as always, “all right, enough. We have to—Harry, let go, we have to get ready. The car! We need to pack the car. And the biscuits still need to go in the oven. Please, darling, I have to do this or I’ll drive myself crazy.”
“Er,” Harry grinned. “Crazier.” But he petted Draco’s cheek, once, and took a step back. “You’ve made more biscuits.”
It wasn’t a question. Draco still answered, “Mrs. Tinsberry seemed to like them.”
Laughing: “Sweetheart, she already agreed. You don’t have to try so hard.”
“Of course I do. And it’s not all… I’m not trying to bribe her. I simply—” embarrassment sizzled in his throat, made him cough. Harry, for once, was merciful, and didn’t ask.
“I’ll go pack the car. And make sure we have all the printouts.”
“Thank you. Would you also mind—”
“Boots? Already cleaned. Honestly, love, you don’t need to worry. We’ve got this.”
Something burst inside him, impossibly bright, terribly tender. “Thank you, Harry,” in this rasp of a voice. “You’re—” something he couldn’t put into words. Harry smiled.
“Go on, get the biscuits ready. You already know I will pinch some.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Draco, who planned to make a whole tin just for Harry.
With a wink, Harry disappeared behind the door, in his one sock and his face and his hair. Once he managed, Draco turned to the kitchen counter, to the bowls he’d prepared and promptly forgot about.
It was autumn already although it was August. Perhaps every morning is a little bit autumn, this early on: from blinking warmth to fresh, crisp cool, to a hint of something coming, something big. Outside the windows of their little rented flat the shrubs had gone golden-yellow, and the trees up the street had turned, drizzling amber like teardrops onto the pavement.
Autumn came early, and with it this—yearning. For something he knew he shouldn’t have, that he longed for with all of his being. That Harry won’t let him shy away from. Something warm like a jumper and sweet, and too-close and unbearable.
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You’ll be fine! Just keep being you no matter what the haters say. :)
I’ll try... I-I just... I wish I was better at standing up for myself sometimes...
*wrings his hands together anxiously* Whenever I get in that kind of situation, it’s like I forget how to argue for myself. E-Even if I could normally think up a good comeback and defend myself, when I’m in the middle of everything, it’s hard to even speak...
My batchmates used to stand up for me sometimes, and when my CO leaves, they’ll be nice to me, but they don’t want to be dragged into it, and I don’t blame them... so it’s usually just me...
*eyes unfocus slightly as he remembers his most recent run-in with his CO, giving the anon a small smile as he remembers how Coric stood up for him* But when Coric-- he stood up for me the other day, and I-I... I didn’t know that people would do that... for me, I mean.
If Coric’s trying that hard to be nice to a defec-- someone like me, it does make me hopeful for the rest of the 501st.
Do you ever get the fear that person find you annoying, or dislike you?
Y-Yeah, I kinda think about that a lot, actually. But usually I’m able to tell myself that I’m just overthinking it, since I know deep down that my vode love me, but it can get kinda hard to remember that sometimes when I’m wrapped up in my own thoughts.
Sometimes I’ll ask Dogma if I’m being too much, if he looks particularly annoyed, or Coric if he looks too busy to be bothered by me, but my vode are quick to remind me that I’m wanted, even if I don’t always feel like it.
YOU dont need to feel bad for THEIR mistakes. so dont. its ok to blame them when its their fault.
I-I, I’ll try not to... but it’s kinda hard... since they’re both hurt, and I’m here perfectly fine, although I should probably eat and drink something, since I haven't done that in a little...
*sighs, running a hand through his hair before nodding, looking slightly more sure of himself* I’m here for them now, so I’ll make that count... I have to...
Ok now that you’ve got your vode in check how about you? You also doing well? Staying out of the action in the medical tent for now?
I’m not hurt, if that’s what you were wondering... thanks for checking though, anon. I-I’d like to be out helping in the battle now, but Coric was right to bench me... I wouldn’t be great at focusing right now... a-and I wouldn’t want to drag someone else down if they’re looking out to make sure I didn’t get hurt out there.
This way, I’m not getting in anyone’s way, and there’s someone here to make sure that my vode are stable, so it works out... hopefully they’ll wake up soon...
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Oh, this one… okay. I-I mean Dogma already knows about it, so it’s not that much of a secret, but it isn’t something that I go around telling everybody. Back when I was in training, I mentioned earlier that I had decided to grow my hair out, and General Ti had supported me and taught me how to put my hair up so I didn’t have to cut it when it started getting in the way of me seeing during training.
Most of my trainers let it go after that, happy enough that it wasn’t interfering with my performance and that it technically kept within the regulation haircut requirements. This takes place maybe three months after that.
One trainer, Bric, didn’t like it when General Ti seemed to pick favorites within the cadets, so when I showed up announcing that General Ti was my new favorite person, he wasn’t very happy. He didn’t do anything for a while, but I got the sense that he was watching everything I did in training, and the rest of my squad too, waiting for one of us to mess up.
For a while we were okay, if a bit more stressed than usual. Dogma gained his name during this time, but had always been a bit of a stickler for the rules, (if you want his full story, I suggest asking him at @clonetrooperdogma), and all of us were a little short on sleep. After three weeks of this, I accidentally came to training with my hair in a braid instead of my regulation bun, and Bric noticed immediately. He didn’t do much immediately, but the training was noticeably harder than usual, to the point where we were ready to either pass out or revisit our breakfast by the end. I thought that was the end of it, but similar to Fives’ batchmate, Cutup, I got asked to meet him at the hangar. Dogma came with me, since he was worried, but stayed by the door so he wasn’t technically intruding.
After that… uh, it gets a little depressing, sorry.
Basically, he yelled at me, calling me a defect and a screw-up, which was uh, a little harsh. Then he told me that he’d noticed that the rest of my squad was defective too, and he didn’t like the attitude I’d been showing him recently, which was a little strange, since I’d been more careful than normal once I noticed he was watching us. During this, he yanked my hair out of its braid, using it to make sure I couldn’t run away or at least put some distance between us. He told me that I didn’t deserve to be any different than the rest of my brothers, so he ordered me to cut my hair. Gave me a vibroknife and everything…
I-I was taking too long for him though, probably crying and shaking all over the place, which was another thing he yelled at me for. Finally, he’d had enough, and started cutting my braid shorter, maybe three centimeters with each cut? I was… not doing great…
Thankfully, as soon as Bric had started dragging me around by my hair, Dogma ran to get one of the other trainers, since General Shaak Ti had made it against regulations for trainers to physically attack the trainees outside of a training environment. The first one he ran into was, again, General Ti, although I think El Les showed up at some point later. They got there after he’d cut off maybe a good twelve centimeters, or five inches of my braid... Bric was ordered to back off, and I didn’t have to cut off the rest of my hair, but the damage had been done… I-I had a hairstyle like Vaughn’s for a good month before it was just long enough to put in a bun again.
After this incident, my squad got transferred to be under El Les’ training instead of Bric’s and I think Bric got demoted so he was further separated from the younger cadets, since the Kaminoans didn’t want to outright fire him; it was the best General Ti could do.
Since then, I’ve had a hard time letting other people mess with my hair, even though, like I said before, I do enjoy it. It’s just hard to let my guard down, you know? I also tend to keep it just in its bun most of the time, although I’ve been having it down or in a braid more often once I came to the 501st and started getting comfortable with the vode here.
It was also hard at first to feel like more than just a defect, but with my squad and then with my ori’vode, I’ve been able to get more comfortable with myself and my abilities to the point that I know that I’m capable, and that I can be my own person, even if that person is different than others.
To be honest, Connie didn't know what she was expecting when she decided to give Steven and the Crystal Gems a visit.
Maybe a new adventure, shenanigans coming from Little Homeworld, new gem students getting their schedules, anything. However, what she didn't want to expect and got, in the end, was the shocking news that Steven had disappeared in the night with his car, going somewhere else.
Her mind was in the blank after that.
Her first thoughts were that maybe there was a fight between him and his family that led to this. Her suspicions turned to be half-right and half-wrong. There did was a fight, but it was against a plant-like creation of Steven. A CactusSteven who repeated his words.
He had told Connie once, years ago, how he gave life to some watermelons who resembled his appearance. It just took a bit of his spit and some seeds to make it true. The difference between Steven Watermelons and CactusSteven was that the first ones were kind and peaceful as long as you didn't provoke them, but the second one, despite being cute from the start, became a horrible monster.
A monster who repeated words filled with anxiety, fear, anger, and bitterness. And all those feelings came from Steven.
The phrases Connie was informed about were even more concerning: he felt like his life wasn't anything if he wasn't useful as if everyone was growing up without him, getting better, being better, having a great time while he struggled without control. The Gems were also targets of those issues. Pearl deemed to be emotionally fragile which made Steven pick up the pieces, Amethyst not getting how he felt because she was so mature, Garnet's advice being useless with his problems.
It went over and over again in a vicious cycle of sadness.
Why didn't Steven say anything?
A part inside Connie told her that it was typical of him to not bother anyone with his feelings -whether he needed help or not; the other part of her, though, wanted to smack him in the head.
This kind of rage was pretty familiar in a nasty way. It was the same rage she felt when he turned himself to Aquamarine and Topaz to save them. The anger born from pain and helplessness.
At least this time nor Aquamarine or Topaz or any other gem were trying to kidnap people but...
No! This was much worse!
The bitter familiarity of Steven's issues brought her back to those times when Connie was young and naive, being Pearl's apprentice, training nonstop to protect Steven.
All for him.
Always for him.
DO IT FOR HIM.
'Remember, Connie. In the heat of battle, Steven is the only thing that matters. You. Don't. Matter'
'I. Don't. Matter'
Did Steven was thinking that way about himself? It may be a possibility. One that her mind played treacherously.
Steven hearing a mind projection of himself telling him the same things that Pearl put in her brain so Connie could be a 'perfect knight'.
'Remember, Steven. Every whim, every wish they want to make true you MUST fulfill. That's the only thing that matters. You. Don't. Matter'
'I. Don't. Matter'
Connie shivered. The sole idea of Steven acting as a servant or a tool was too disturbing for her to find a solution for. Now the question was, what would be the solution to this mess?
Obviously, first of all, she needed to find Steven and talk to him, so asking Lion for a portal-roar ride was step number one.
"Lion, let's go. We need to find Steven"
Much to her surprise and confusion, the magical, pink beast didn't move an inch. He just yawned as if Steven's disappearance wasn't a big deal.
"Lion, this isn't the time for naps! We NEED to find Steven! He could be hurt or something!"
The same reaction, a big yawn, and even Lion stretched to relax and continue sleeping.
She could feel one of her eyes twitching. What the hell was wrong with Lion that day to be this disobedient? Didn't he care about Steven? Had Lion given up on him? There should be a reason for this behavior.
So, Lion is Steven’s magical pet, but he can do his own thing whether he listened to Steven or her. And Steven was gone and must be found, though Lion wasn't cooperating at all. The question is why.
"You won’t help me find Steven not because you don't want to but because you feel it is not the right time to find him, right?"
The big cat purred and Connie took it as a yes.
"Did Steven tell you when would be the time?"
Lion grumbled a bit. That was no.
So, it meant that Lion was using his intuition to know when they could finally start looking for Steven.
Connie kneeled in front of the magical beast and pet him. She thought she had a better connection with Lion whenever she needed him, but this reaction surprised her. It seemed he was more perceptive and thoughtful than she thought.
However, was Lion protecting Steven because of the intuition of something bad happening to the boy if they found him? Or because she was deemed as not ready to deal with Steven?
Whatever it was, it didn't help with her anxiety at all.
------------------------
It was the first time she decided to do this and even her mental representation of Steven would have been against the idea, but she didn't give a crap about her studies when someone she deeply cared about was missing and possibly hurting.
Reflection, despite taking most of her time, was the best way for Connie to piece everything together and find out the reasons of Steven’s departure.
According to the Gems, Steven had quit his job of running Little Homeschool and while the teenager could understand that taking a break was important, there was a sense of off-ness in Steven when he began gardening.
That activity at first seemed like a good hobby in their eyes, but the boy's guardians then saw how it was turning a bit unhealthy when Steven began talking with his plants and flower as if they were humans. His human friends. Saddie, Lars, the Cool Kids, even Connie. Saying things like it was good to have them back and they wouldn't leave him. Never leave him. No wonder Garnet said it was unhealthy.
Later, things went worse when CactusSteven was born. Pearl told her that it was cute and could even talk, repeating Steven’s words. The Gems were happy about that accomplishment until CactusSteven spit out harsh truths. How Steven felt so lost now that no one needs him, how he couldn't change while others grew up more and more, feeling left behind, stuck without something to fix or someone to save.
Nothing for him to do to show that he was useful and worth keeping around.
Some bitter memories from the past came to her mind while analyzing this, memories from before she met Steven.
Going to school wasn’t as difficult for her because of the studies, Connie was pretty smart after all; however, what she couldn't get was why she couldn't make friends. It was more of moving from a place to another due to her father's job, there was something missing that she couldn't grasp to have a lasting friendship.
She remembered that some months before traveling again and going to the beach that fateful day, Connie had met a girl from her same classes, Samantha.
She was cheerful and exuberant, both had such a good time and helped each other with homework. Though Connie always was the one doing all the job than Samantha, she hadn't minded. Then, when it was time to move again, Samantha said that it would be ok. There were phones, the Internet, it would take time but they'd keep in contact. Connie was hopeful and happy. Yeah, it would work!
Now that she remembered the end of that story, Connie questioned herself like how many Pinks and how many Spinels there are in the world, because days and weeks passed and Samantha never called, never sent a message, never responded to her messages and even when Connie called her once the number was deemed as nonexistent.
What went wrong? Did she have an accident or something? Was she too busy that the promise was forgotten?
During a day, while searching some topic on Google for a project, Connie accidentally made click to a Facebook advertisement and when she was going to get out, she saw Samantha's picture beneath the advertisement. It was a photo of her and other kids their age. She looked happy and having fun like always, which was strange for Connie. Curiosity got the best of her and with a single click, she could enter Samantha's Facebook profile wondering how a kid could be let to do something like that. Shouldn't there be an age restriction or something?
Whatever. That didn't matter.
Connie clicked to the personal data, Samantha's new phone was displayed on the screen of the computer. She thought that maybe, just maybe, talking with her again would be a good idea. Finding out why her friend didn't contact her, catching up. So she memorized the number and grabbed the not-umbilical phone. Two rings later, Samantha's voice was heard.
"Who?"
"H-Hey, Sam. It's me, Connie. Missed me?" she said a bit hopeful and nervous.
"Ahhh, it's you" Connie's mind froze at the annoyance and boredom coming out from her friend's mouth. "What do you want? I'm busy"
Then she heard something breaking, but no plate, glass, or object of porcelain in the house had fallen from its place. Suddenly and without notice, Connie hung up and went back to her room while tears streamed her face.
Later that night, a bit before sleeping, she went again to Samantha's Facebook profile while wondering why. Whether it was to find an answer after the treatment she received or to give her former friend a piece of her mind via inbox, Connie wasn't so sure until she entered the section of photos.
The answer came after some time of thinking.
What all the pictures of Samantha had in common wasn't only that she was there but also that the girl was surrounded by kids who looked meek, shy, kind of bookish and nerdy. Not that Connie was the one to stereotype others anyway. And then, with all that information and reminiscing her time with her former friend, Connie came to a very bitter conclusion: Samantha never wanted a friend, was never looking for one, just some brainiac to use to get good grades without moving a finger!
How could she let that moron played with her?!
That day she stopped making efforts to befriend others despite her desire to get to know other kids.
Though, every time she wanted to get close she questioned herself: what if he/she/they are like Samantha? What if they don't like me? What if I get hurt again? However, Steven saved her from that hole.
Steven who took care of her neon bracelet so he could give it back to her, even if it was in his weird/adventurous way.
Steven who liked her for who she was despite her flaws, her family issues, her fears, and anything else.
Steven who never labeled her as a tool and treasured her dearly.
Steven who always thought about her and cared deeply for her.
Her whole Universe.
And she was his whole universe too. Two birds flying together. Or that's what she imagined it could happen till now.
And yeah, they would go to different places, meet different kinds of people, experience so many things, figure out themselves and what they wanted to do... Until the moment came to reunite again and live their lives together, happily remembering the good and learning from the bad, having their friends and families with them, celebrating a new page of their lives.
But was that what fate had stored for them or what Connie naively portrayed for her and Steven’s future?
Did she think for a second that it would be that simple and fanciful?
Of course not! She knew very well that the path would be long and sometimes hard, confusing even. Though, at this moment, Connie wondered if that is what her narrow-minded imagination had conjured and not what the big picture showed.
Another question came to her mind then. How did the big picture look like for Steven? Did it have a future with love and achievements in his hands? Or was it still something he needed to figure out?
However, if Steven really wanted that, then he could have told the others about him leaving instead of doing it without no one noticing.
This picture was bigger and messier than just trying to find your place in the world. Steven has been struggling silently, his mind planning to take another path like many of his friends have as if his future was waiting for him somewhere else.
No, not his future. His purpose. Because that's equivalent to his future, to what he believed everyone wanted for him, and if there is no purpose in Beach City or Little Homeworld anymore, then what's the point in staying?
With all of this happening and no idea of what to do, Connie had a new perspective about growing up.
Before meeting Steven, it was all about her studies, making her parents proud, being lonely, and not knowing how far she could go. After meeting him and being on his side, she learned new things about the world and herself and witnessed more than she asked. Without Steven, and that wasn’t related at all to the fact that he was missing, she had a separate life from all the gem issues he constantly dealt with.
She knew what she wanted and what she was doing (or that is what her workaholic mind kept telling her), but did she imagine the same for Steven? Did he give himself that chance with so much time to spare and many options?
It didn't seem so. For Connie the alternatives were numerous, for Steven, they were reduced to 2: stay to waste away or find something to do to still be useful. They were going to take different routes until they felt ready to start a life together. Though the one who stayed wasn't Steven at all, even when he felt this way...
