#strawberryaj

You put on some slippers that had been by your bed before you walk over to the dresser. Already seeing the shimmering from slight shards of glass both on the floor and on the dresser, you knew you had to be a little careful and have some protection for your feet. Didn’t want to end up stepping in that, after all. Perhaps you should be a little worried about your hands, too, but you think of them as being in less danger than your feet when it comes to the glass.

As you approach the dresser, you see that some things that had been sitting on the top still sat there, just a bit scattered. Other things had fallen to the carpet, but had been safe due to the softness of it, or due to the items being tiny and not having much to break, anyway.

Most of the things, basically, had been safe. But you find the one thing that hadn’t been -- the one that broke -- was the one picture frame that had been hanging above the dresser. It had been the thing that fell victim to your wind; the thing that crashed and woke you up. By the looks of it, it had come off from it’s nail on the wall, and when it did, before your wind could pick it up and carry it anywhere, it had just fallen to the dresser and the glass had shattered.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been too big of a deal... but as you get close enough to pick up the frame, you see and remember what picture had been in it, and your heart sinks. Not because the picture was ruined or anything -- because honestly, even though the glass had shattered and all, the picture hadn’t gotten too ruined. If it had, you still had the picture on your phone. But which picture it had been, specifically, had you thinking.

It was a picture of what you’d come to see as family, even if they weren’t all technically family. It was a picture you’d taken one day of Dave, Karkat, and the girls; Reese, Seyria, Aileen. During a day at the park, while you were sitting back and relaxing, watching them, you’d had the urge to capture the some of the moments of that day. Some of the pictures, they known about, because you’d asked them if you could take a picture of them or with them. But some of them, they didn’t know about initially, they didn’t know about until you’d gotten the pictures developed. With those pictures, it was simple things: little smiles, actions, moving about. Little conversations and the faces they made. Things that made your heart swell at the sight, things that made you at least a little happy, for that moment.

One of those kinds of pictures, you took and had developed into a slightly bigger picture, so you could frame and hang up. It had been a picture of Dave and Karkat on the bench of a picnic table, with the girls sitting with them. You’d been walking over to join them, but as you did and they began to chatter to each other and to themselves, they looked so happy, and at peace. And with them not paying much attention to anything, you sneaked a picture of the moment. You had no regrets about snapping it, and getting it framed, either. You had no regrets because it was one of the things that made you think about them, and one of the few things helped you get through some days. It may not have always helped or did much, but it usually did help a little to push you through. The picture had still been one that you’d come to love and cherish.

You purse your lips as you drag yourself out from the thoughts of the picture. Then, you’re dragged into another line of thoughts, remembering why this frame fell, what happened, why you woke up. When you’d slept, and woken up to a noise, or to find something had broke or something had happened to an item, you knew it was because of your powers. You were out of practice with them now, and you didn’t have full control.

A pause in thought occurs, before the gears starting turning again, with a thought: What if one day, that lack of control caused you to hurt them? To hurt Dave, Karkat, or the girls?

You might be able to suppress your powers during your waking hours, but when you slept, you lost your control of them currently. The worry begins to burrow deep in your mind, because what if one day when that happened, they were with you or nearby, and you hurt them. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for that. Even if it would be unintentional, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for causing them harm. Thinking about it, you couldn’t forgive yourself for causing them or anyone harm, like this. What if you ended up hurting Jongkyu, Vin, Kay, or any of your friends or loved ones?

One hand sets down the remains of the frame and picture back down onto the dresser, while the other comes up to remove the glasses resting on your face. You close the temples of them shut, so you can hold them in your hand without struggle, and drop that hand to the side. Then, you bring your other hand, now free, up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose as you squeeze your eyes shut.  You let out a shaky sigh before you talk to yourself a little, thinking aloud. “I’ve gotta do something about this.”

As much as you hated to think about it, you think you were going to have to come to terms with your powers again, that you were going to have to work with them and practice. You were going to have to remember things about it. 

Karkat was at work, and you figured you’d save him for later, anyway, so you resolve to hit Dave first. Besides, you knew it was the time of day he’d be awake and he’d be in his room instead of in another playing with Reese. You make your way to his room, opening the door slowly just in case he had any possibility that he was sleeping in.

Thankfully for you, he was awake. He was in his bed, but he was awake, playing a game. You walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge, adjusting yourself to be close to him and have him within reach, but you wait before doing anything.

“Mind pausing the game for me?” You ask him, scooting a little closer towards him. He obliges, pausing the game and setting down the handheld. He questions you as to what was wrong, or if you were needing something from him. You shake your head -- nothing was wrong, and you didn’t need anything else but his attention. You grin momentarily, then get closer to his face.

You press a kiss to his forehead, and to the bridge of his nose. You move to his cheeks and press multiple kisses to both sides of his face, and pressing kisses along his jawline. Finally, you go to his lips, and press yours against his in a warm and loving kiss, that he happily returns.

It felt nice to feel the love in the kiss, considering you still worry time to time if he truly loves you, and he didn’t just feel and do certain things because he felt like he had to. It’s times like these where you’re less worried and you think you can actually feel something, feel that he does truly love you.

You were getting ready to leave for work at the diner when Dave makes his way into the living room on his crutches. You had been grabbing your jacket and keys, about to head out the door. He stops you though, because apparently he had wanted to see you off today. You chuckle and take in the nice though that he had wanted to see you off.

You give small chatter for a moment before stating that you really had to go. You put your jacket on and the keys in your pocket, then face him again. He tells you that he has one last thing to say, so you stay for that. He says it in a somewhat serious tone. “God damn, you better have a good day. I’ll be furious if you don’t.” You snort at the words.

You’d been cooking in the kitchen, when Dave strolls in on his wheelchair. It was early in the morning and he likely didn’t have enough energy yet for the day, so you’re not terribly surprised to see him in that instead of using his walker as just a sort of help to walk in and through the house.

He wishes you good morning and you turn your attention away from the cooking for a moment to bend down and plant a kiss. “Morning!” You say, then turn your attention back to cooking for a moment. You finish up the bacon you had been making, then turn off the burner.  As you’d done so, he’d made his way over to the fridge and worked the fridge door open. You try to offer a bit of help with opening it, but he tells you that he wants to do it himself.

He does manage it, but he looks up as if at one of the top shelves in defeat. You turn your head, and ask him what’s was up. “The apple juice.”

He looks at you with a sort of pout after stating what’s he was looking at. “Can you get that for me? I can’t reach it.”

…Oooh. You had place it in a bad spot the other day when unloading the groceries. Apparently you put it in a place he couldn’t reach when in his wheelchair. Fuck, that was a mistake on your part.

“Yes! Yes, of course I can.” He backs out of the way a little so you can grab it for him. You ask if he wants one or two of the little bottles of it, and he states that he wants two. You grab two and hand them over to him, then you move the rest of the bottles down lower to a place you know he could reach – wheelchair or walker. Then you back away from the fridge and shut the door.

me (thetrollsbehindher)