Chapter Text
Aventurine’s plan of sharing alcohol and gambling with his new neighbour may have been thwarted, but surprisingly, he found that he didn’t mind.
Stephen is an interesting conversation partner. Most people would find it tedious and annoying to explain their work to others, but Stephen takes to it with a gusto that catches Aventurine off guard. He speaks freely, jumping from one tangent to another while throwing complicated terms around that Aventurine has no clue how to even pronounce. Aventurine isn’t able to piece together much. All he can tell is that Stephen is working on some interdimensional thing for the Simulated Universe, and testing has been pretty rough.
“Having Aeons suddenly appear always skews the results,” Stephen grumbled as he slipped his goggles off. “But Madame Herta and Miss Ruan Mei always seem so delighted. Of course, it’s a good result, but it means that I have to go back and run more tests based on the new data, and then when I get back I bet it’s going to be all different again. I wanna just label it a pu-perpetual state of superposition, but they won’t allow that.”
As Aventurine racked his brain to try and remember the meaning of superposition, Stephen rambled on. “Maybe I should work on face hiding technology instead. Miss Polka’s one was really cool, and I think I can try to make a small version for myself.”
Aventurine tilted his head. “Face hiding tech?”
“Ah, u-uh, yeah.” Stephen fidgeted with the pieces in his hands. “It’s more like a facial recognition filter mesh, and it was pretty sturdy when I saw it. I wanted it too, so I’ve been working on it in my free time, and-”
Aventurine started. “Why would you need to hide your face?”
He would be lying if he said that he’d never considered covering up his features. They made him stand out in a distasteful way. There were rumours that his gaze could curse people - which, of course, was a lie, but the sentiment that his gaze was poison always held. His browser constantly had tabs open for coloured contacts and temporary hair dye, but ultimately he decided against it. His eyes were sensitive and might not have reacted well to contacts; besides, the IPC would’ve noticed any change in his appearance and forced him out of it. After all, he was less marketable when he wasn’t unique.
Stephen, however, has none of that.
Stephen is a cute kid. Healthy, fair, with a youthful gleam in his eyes. He isn’t child model level gorgeous, but he holds a charm that makes the adults around him fawn and coo at his every move. If Aventurine was a better person, he might’ve joined in himself, but he preferred treating Stephen as just another person. It made life less complicated.
As it stood, though, Stephen truly was the apple of the Herta Space Station’s eye. Everywhere he went, people swarmed him to attend to his every need. If Aventurine thought their attention towards him was bad, Stephen’s was ten times worse. They’d tried to get food together once, and they could barely start a sentence without one worker or another interrupting him. Stephen had briefly mentioned wanting a bit of watermelon, and within seconds, an entire watermelon was sliced and served. It had even come with a glass or watermelon juice at the side.
(That day was fun. As a joke, he’d pretended to steal Stephen’s juice. The pouty glare from Stephen almost made him laugh out loud, if it wasn’t for the murderous stares from everyone else around them. He’d apologised, but internally, he’d been a little bit relieved. Glad to know that deep down, they thought of him the same way everyone else did.)
“People stare a lot.” Stephen’s voice dipped to a mumble. He did that a lot, whenever he grew unsure of what he was saying. Should Aventurine teach him how to lie? A better adult would probably never even consider it, but Aventurine knew all too well what an important life skill it was. “If they don’t know it’s me, maybe they’ll take me seriously. I can’t even talk about my work in peace without them becoming so - so -”
“Patronising?”
“That doesn’t sound like a word.” Stephen wrinkled his nose as he pulled out his gaming console. “I just want to finish my work and go play my games. But they keep wasting time by re-explaining things I already know and acting impressed when I try to tell them anything. At least Miss Ruan Mei considers what I have to say.”
Ruan Mei is one of the people Aventurine actively avoids, so he couldn’t comment much on the matter. All Ratio had said about her was that she was “a ticking time bomb of ambition”. Whatever that cryptic line meant, he had no idea, but it couldn't be anything good.
Bantering with Stephen, however, comes easy to him. “Is it just because she listens to you? It’s not because she, oh, I don’t know, has a watermelon parfait ready for you each time you come?”
Hilariously, Stephen’s face flushed watermelon red. “I - it’s not - I mean, she listens well, and the watermelon is sweet, but - i-it’s not the same, it doesn’t taste the same at all-”
Before Aventurine could ask what he meant, the door slammed open.
Herta’s puppet sauntered in, hammer at the ready. “There’s a new compound that a bunch of researchers found on a planet. Get me some.”
Stephen blinked, wide eyed. “Me?”
“Not you, Stephen, I meant him.” Herta gestured towards Aventurine, who immediately began gathering his materials. “He’s in charge of our logistics and trade. You need parts for your face filter, right? Tell him to get them for you.”
Stephen glanced between Herta and Aventurine. “I-is that okay? Isn’t Mister Aventurine a Genius Society member too? Why is he doing-”
“Don’t worry about it, Stephen,” Aventurine shot him his most reassuring smile. Really, it would take him too long for him to explain the politics and ramifications of having someone like Aventurine actually act like a genius. In fact, he still wasn’t sure how he’d been approved to be one, either by Herta or Nous. “Anything you need, I can get for you. You have my number, right? Send me the list of things you need. I’ll try to get them to you as soon as possible.”
“But-”
Aventurine turned to look away as he headed towards the door. Behind him, he could hear Herta continuing to talk to Stephen. “There are some new bugs in the Simulated Universe, and we need to properly code some of the Occurrences to be more interesting. Once you complete that, you can spend the weekend with your dad at the fruit stand.”
Their voices faded as Aventurine trudged down the hallway.
-
Aventurine knew for certain that he was never meant to be a genius.
He knew it the way that he knew that roses were red and rubber ducks were yellow and that Ratio wanted to try out the fruit mousse on the menu at the cafe the next time he went. It was just a fact, a simple truth of life that existed no matter where he went. He wasn’t smart. He didn’t understand everything around him. Heck, he couldn’t even read. He never got the chance to learn as a child, and he was far too old now to go up to someone and ask them to teach him how to read. No one knew about this, not even Ratio. He’d gotten by with the power of text-to-speech, but it was still a small, shameful secret that he hid in the depths of his soul. It was as though he’d failed at being a basic human.
Honestly, he was still struggling to understand why he’d been chosen in the first place. Didn’t most geniuses make some big invention that caught Nous’ eye? To his knowledge, he couldn’t think of anything that he’d done that could be considered outstanding.
Well, whatever Nous wanted, THEY got, he supposed.
Speaking of the decision to announce him as a member of the Genius Society, did no one else think it through? He was an Avgin, for Aeon’s sake. It might have been one of his biggest selling points as a Stoneheart, but as a genius, all it could bring him was scorn. His eyes made him stand out, and his new status isolated from others. It was just another reason for people to avoid him.
Having an Avgin on the Genius Society’s roster only spelled trouble for them too. People might be a little more open-minded these days, but the society’s image would surely take a hit. He’d seen tabloid articles speculating how he’d seduced his way into the ranks (how?), been planted as an IPC spy, or hypnotised Nous with his Avgin eyes (again, how?). Honestly, Herta was already pushing the bounds of social acceptability by allowing him to do some work. At least she was smart enough to understand that the masses would riot if he was ever allowed to behave like a genius, conducting research and enquiry and whatever other academic stuff they did. Either way, it seemed that the consensus was clear: Aventurine was not suited to be a member of the Genius Society.
Really, it is nothing new.
He hadn't thought that he’d been close enough to anyone to miss them, but he truly felt their absence now. He missed Topaz and Numby with their antics, Jade and her constant scheming, even Sugillite and his constant attempts to get on his nerves. And Ratio - sweet, smart Ratio, who had stayed by his side after the Penacony fiasco. He’d checked in to make sure that Aventurine was recovering well, took on a good portion of the paperwork so that he wouldn’t overexert himself, and even accepted Aventurine’s random invites out. Aventurine thought that they had been growing closer. Maybe, in another life where they had more time together, they could have become something more. It was just his luck that in this life, Ratio probably couldn’t stand the sight of him now.
It was a natural conclusion. Ratio had worked almost his whole life to become a member of the Genius Society. He’d traded his childhood, relationships, and so much energy for even the smallest chance at making it. Aventurine had never met a man as dedicated to a cause as him. Yet his efforts never paid off. Nous stayed silent, and Ratio had to be content with being a very-smart-regular man.
Aventurine couldn’t imagine working so hard at something, only to be rejected from it, and then be forced to watch as some other undeserving idiot swooped in to get it by accident. Even the notion was infuriating. Aventurine himself felt enraged by the idea. At the very least, Ratio had to be upset with him, and probably never wanted to see him again. It would be a reasonable response, and a well-deserved one at that.
He knew it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t control Nous’ actions or Herta’s decisions. Yet the guilt still lingered in him, stubborn and lasting.
With a sigh, Aventurine stared down at his paperwork. The compound that Herta wanted had been difficult to get his hands on. The researchers had been closed-off and selfish, demanding a much higher price than intended. It had taken digging up their company’s history of debt to, ah, convince them to lower their price. Still, it wasn’t as though he could simply report that he’d blackmailed them in the report, so he had to weave a lie with flowery words that skimmed the truth just so.
There was a light knock at the door. “Mister Aventurine?”
Aventurine yawned and glanced at the clock. 1:32 a.m. This was no time for a child to be awake, but he would indulge Stephen. “Come on in!”
The door creaked open and Stephen stumbled in, slippers clacking messily across the floor as he moved. His hands fiddled with a small crossbody bag slung on his shoulder, but he straightened his back as he spoke. “I- If you have the time, I have a list of things I’d like you to help me get.” A pause. “...please?”
There were a lot of other things Aventurine would rather be doing, really, but he pushed his lips into the most amicable smile he could muster. “No issue. Send me the list and I’ll get th-”
Stephen leaned closer. “Mister Aventurine, is your beacon broken? It’s flashing the blue warning light.”
Aventurine swiped open his phone and checked his reflection in the camera. Sure enough, there was a small, inconspicuous light where his beacon was implanted. Frowning, he tossed his head back. “Ah, I suppose I’ll have to head down to get it fixed.”
“O-or maybe I could do it for you?”
“...You can?”
Stephen shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “This kind of error is a simple maintenance feature. It just needs a quick update. I could do it in 5 minutes. It’s really not difficult, and I know what I’m doing. I’m a genius, you know.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” Stephen crossed his arms and tapped his foot. ‘I’m a genius! This stuff is child’s play!”
Aventurine weighed his odds. On one hand, he had no clue how good Stephen actually was. He was definitely intelligent, yes, but Aventurine had seen the most academically smart people fail to cook noodles properly. At the very least, Stephen’s portfolio was much better than theirs, but still - it was risky.
On the other hand… going down to the maintenance kiosk to diagnose and resolve the problem could take an entire day. He would have to fill in so many forms and talk to so many people just to schedule an appointment. Heck, if they didn’t have a slot for him, he might have to wait a few more days to get it checked. He’d heard that they were constantly understaffed and had backlogs for days. He didn’t have the patience to find out if that was a rumor or truth.
With a sigh, Aventurine swept his bangs away from his beacon. “If you’re sure of your skills, I will gladly accept your offer, friend.”
Stephen’s eyes sparkled. In a flash, he grabbed a stool and pushed himself on top of it. “I-I’ll do my best! It’ll be quick, I promise! Just 5 minutes.” He handed Aventurine a piece of paper. “You can look through my list of stuff while you wait! You can ask me any questions about them.”
A quick glance at the paper showed a long, handwritten list, dotted with a few splotches of ink. Aventurine might have commended Stephen on his effort, if not for his atrociously messy handwriting. Did the children these days not have to take handwriting classes? His ability to write was mediocre at best, but he remembered having to practice signing his name over a hundred times. As it stood, Stephen’s handwriting was a mix of big loops and chicken scratch. It was legible, sure, but only barely. Thank the Aeons for his beacon that could help him read it all out loud-
Beep. Beep.
“Alright, I’m in!” Stephen’s cheerful voice sounded through the rush of blood in Aventurine’s ears. “The beacon will be down while I’m running the checks, but I’ll be as fast as possible, I promise!”
“Please do,” Aventurine choked out. Staring at the jumble of ink in front of him made him feel a little nauseous. “I’ll just… look through the list afterwards.”
A small laugh bubbled out of Stephen. “Mister Aventurine, that’s silly! We should be as e-efficient as possible to get work done quickly! Just look through it and I’ll tell you what the things are.”
Aeons, Aventurine hadn’t been this tense since his execution trial in front of all the Stonehearts. What would Stephen think of a grown man who couldn’t read without a handicap? Stephen was brilliant. He’d probably mastered reading and writing when he was 3 years old. He would never respect Aventurine if he found out. An idiot masquerading as a genius? What a joke.
If he just stayed quiet for the next 5 minutes, maybe he could get away with it. He’d just lay low and pretend to… do what, exactly? Fall asleep? That would be unprofessional. Pretend that the beacon had shut him down as well? Stephen knew enough about the beacon to know that such side effects were non-existent, and if he did believe Aventurine, it would cause a mass panic. There was nothing good that he could come up with at the moment.
Absently, Aventurine reached for his poker chip.
“Mister Aventurine!” He could imagine the frown on Stephen’s face right then. “Don’t get distracted. I might not have time to clarify these things in the future, so you should start asking me now.”
Stephen was right, of course. It wasn’t his fault that Aventurine was a fraud. “I suppose. Can you tell me what…” He shot his finger out blindly. “... this one is?”
Stephen glanced up. “A hologram system. I wanted to mess around with one to see if the system could adapt to a person’s features and override them for all watching audiences.”
Pretending he understood, Aventurine nodded and pointed to another blot of ink. “What’s this one, then?”
Silence.
Stephen had a funny look twisted on his face. “Mister Aventurine, it says ‘watermelon’.”
Aventurine felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“Mister Aventurine…” Stephen’s voice was cautious but firm. “Do you… not know how to read?”
Kaboom. It took less than 5 minutes for Stephen to figure it out. Honestly, it didn’t take a genius to know how absolutely incompetent and underqualified Aventurine was for this. It had only been a matter of time, really, before his secret was spilled to the one person who didn’t mind his presence.
“I suppose the secret’s out,” Aventurine laughed shakily. “Rather pathetic, isn’t it? You’re right - I can’t read anything. The beacon usually converts it from text-to-speech for me.”
“Did your papa not teach you?” Bless Stephen’s innocent heart. Aventurine prayed that he would never have to understand why Aventurine was the way he was. “My papa taught me, and then he was going to send me to school, but the Genius Society got in the way. You have to listen to your parents to grow up and learn the right things!”
On a better day, Aventurine could have shrugged it off with one hand clenched behind his back. Right now, though, it was late, he was tired, and he was so, so lonely. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should have listened to them. Maybe I could’ve become a good person, one that deserves a seat in the Genius Society. Kind of like you, huh? Sorry. I’ll work harder.”
They settled into an awkward silence, punctuated by the occasional beep. Stephen kept his head down and tapped at his tablet, while Aventurine fiddled with his poker chip. What a terrible lapse of judgement. He could almost hear Ratio’s voice in his ear, lecturing him on lashing out at innocent people. Stephen is just a kid. He shouldn’t have to handle all your useless emotions. Really, all this could have been avoided if Aventurine had kept his stupid mouth shut.
“I… I don’t think the Genius Society is all that great.”
Aventurine balked at Stephen’s words. Coming from a member of the Genius Society, that felt downright blasphemous. “Didn’t all of you geniuses fight to become part of it? Seems fairly coveted to me if there’s only 84 - uh, 85 seats.”
“No,” Stephen mumbled, soft spoken as ever. His fingers continue to mash the buttons on his tablet, but his brows scrunched up a little, and his eyes trembled. “Not all of us.”
They lapsed back into silence.
Aventurine stoutly refused to read into Stephen’s words. His mind was too exhausted to handle the weight of it. Instead, he let his thoughts wander a little. When he woke up later on, he would process the items that Stephen wanted, watermelon included. He had to wrap up the paperwork for Herta’s purchases, and then had to somehow procure a lifeform synthesiser for Miss Ruan Mei by that evening.
What a hassle. He was almost envious of Stephen, who at least had pockets of time to play a few games. What would he do, if he had a day of free time to himself? Probably go drinking and gambling at a casino. No matter how shady the place was, it still brought him a sense of comfort to toss a few chips around and win risky bets. The rush of adrenaline would be a nice change of pace from his current monotonous office worker life.
Going anywhere but here. That might be nice.
At some point, he must have begun to nod off, because the next thing he knew was Stephen shaking him out of his groggy state. “Mister Aventurine? It’s done. Your beacon’s back online.”
“Ah, thank you.” Now that he could understand the words on Stephen’s paper, he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Most of the things on the list were basic words. It probably could’ve been worse if Aventurine had asked Stephen to elaborate on a pen, but still. The humiliation settled deep in the pit of his stomach. “It’s late now. Let’s go.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stephen standing to one side, shifting uncomfortably. He pretended not to notice as he focused on arranging the scattered items on his desk. As he tilted his head slightly towards Thia the owl and mentally bid her farewell, Stephen cleared his throat.
“I don’t think reading’s that big a deal.” Stephen’s initial bravado faltered as he felt Aventurine’s gaze on him. “I-I mean, you’re already smart in other ways-”
“Stephen,” Aventurine’s patience had truly worn thin. “If you must lie, at least make it believable.”
“B-But I’m not-”
“You shouldn’t be up this late, anyways.” Aventurine began walking towards the door, swinging it open. He gestured towards the corridor. “Get some rest. And thank you for fixing my beacon.”
Reluctantly, Stephen stepped outside. “G-good night, Mister Aventurine.”
In response, Aventurine swung the door shut.
He listened as footsteps disappeared down the corridor before switching off the lights.
-
Aventurine absolutely loathed going to bed.
It wasn’t that his bed was uncomfortable or that he’d rather be working. He may be a busy man, but even he knew that a lack of sufficient sleep would hinder his work. Ratio had drilled that into him since day 1. The first time they’d worked together, Ratio had been close to physically tackling him into bed when the clock struck midnight. He’d confiscated all his energy drinks and caffeine, and even switched his phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’. Aventurine hadn’t even known the feature existed until then. Even today, Ratio refused to reply to any messages after 11 p.m., citing a need for rest and winding down before bed.
If that was because he had reached his daily limit on how much he could stand from Aventurine - well, he never said it out loud. It was a possibility, though.
In any case, Aventurine looked forward to getting a good night’s rest each time. He had the best bed that money could buy, decked out with all different types of pillows. He was slightly ashamed to admit it, but when he’d finally made enough money to spend on himself, he’d gone out and bought every piece of bedding he could get his hands on. A firm pillow to support his neck, a thick, fluffy blanket for the colder months, half a dozen smaller pillows… the list was endless. Even he’d been surprised at how much he’d bought when the shipments finally turned up at his doorstep. Regardless, they were a lovely investment. A soft place to rest was much, much better than no place to rest at all.
No, his problem with dozing off was that he never knew when he would dream.
It was ridiculous. He’d survived Penacony, the Land of Dreams. He was a grown man with wealth beyond measure and a prestigious position. He’d won bet after bet after gamble after risk. Why was a man who’d cheated death so many times afraid of dreams?
It was a small blessing that he could only remember glimpses of his dreams each morning. There was the usual stuff - his family, his homeland, sixty copper coins. A purple snake and metal shackles. These days, his dreams ended with a red light boring down on him, an omnipotent force crushing him beneath their feet as he disintegrated into nothing.
There were days when he managed to get dreamless sleep. Those were the best. He’d wake up refreshed, mind clear and energised. For him, nothing was better than something. The start of the day also indicated how the rest of the day would go, too - if he woke up in a panic and heaving, chances were that the rest of the day would be stressful and bleak. As such, if he found himself saying a silent prayer each night for no dreams, well, that was natural, wasn’t it? No use in having something intangible that would only hurt him.
Recently, though, his dreams had been changing.
It always starts out in a cafe. Aventurine can’t recognise the place, but he had a feeling that he was meeting someone. The weather is lovely, with trees swaying in the wind and the breeze brushing past him ever so slightly. He waits.
A man arrives. Aventurine can’t see his face, but he can tell that he is warm. Kind. His words are short and sharp, but their edges are rounded and soft. Aventurine cracks a silly, stupid joke, and instead of laughing nervously like others do, he scoffs and turns away. Somehow, that’s even funnier to Aventurine.
The scene shifts. They’re standing together in space, taking a stroll along the cosmos. Flecks of light twinkle as they fall before them, lighting their path. Hand in hand, they watch planets crumble and nations rise in a span of seconds.
Each time they’re here, Aventurine always asks him, “Doctor, do you think I should be here?”
Each time, the doctor does not respond. Instead, he intertwines his fingers with Aventurine’s, gripping his hand a little tighter. It’s a grounding sensation. Shooting stars hurtle past them, but he does not flinch. For a brief moment, Aventurine feels as though he is at peace.
Then the red beam appears.
THEY always appear with a groan of metal, a loud creaking sound that pierces the ears. Screeching and screaming, THEY turn their laser - eyed gaze upon the duo.
Aventurine clutches on to the doctor’s hand. “We need to leave now-”
In the blink of an eye, the beam hits their interlocked fingers. It burns, and instinctively, Aventurine pulls away. All too late he realises what he has done.
“Wait, no, come back-”
The red engulfs the man before him, and Aventurine watches in horror as he is devoured by the light, disappearing in a flash of red the same way that his sister and mother and clan and home-
“You can’t - give him back, give my Ratio-”
-
Aventurine woke up with a sharp gasp.
He could feel the bullets of sweat running down his back. They left a cooling trail along his spine, making him shiver. Or was that just him trembling in the aftermath. He doesn’t care to know.
Aventurine has had many dreams of his past, memories of violence and fear and everything that haunts him. He found, however, that the worst dreams were those that showed him exactly what he wanted, where he finally felt happy. He was always so close to peace before reality ripped it away from him.
Perhaps they could have become real when he was much, much younger. But very early on in his life it was far too late, and all he could do now was yearn for a memory he could never have.
He shut his eyes and tried to pretend that the warmth from his blanket was the press of a body against him, soft and alive and here.
-
It had been a week since Stephen started avoiding him.
Things had changed after that late night conversation. The revelation that Aventurine wasn’t actually a respectable adult must have felt like a douse of cold water on Stephen. These days, the most that Aventurine saw of him were station-wide updates on the Simulated Universe. There was no sign of him in the food courts or even next door. No matter how many platters of watermelon he left on his desk, he always ended up finishing them alone.
It was inevitable. There were clearly plenty of better adults Stephen could go to, so of course he would leave, too. Still, Aventurine’s foolish heart held out hope each time he heard footsteps sounding down the corridor. He was disappointed each time.
He’d played the scenario out in his head. If Stephen came in, creeping quietly into the room, Aventurine would stand up and apologise for being a terrible person and deceiving Stephen. He’d show him the receipt for the items that he’d managed to secure for him, and promise to bring it to his room personally. If Stephen didn’t want him there, well, that was okay too! He would personally ensure it arrived as quickly as possible regardless. He would try to offer him the watermelon that he kept in the fridge whenever possible. He had a backup plan, too, but he hadn’t had the time to set it in motion just yet.
Ratio would probably be mad at him for trying to buy someone’s affection again. He’d been visibly upset after Aventurine had tried to send him the limited edition fountain pen set that had Ratio’s name engraved in gold. It was probably manipulative to try to buy his way back into someone’s life, but Aventurine was nothing if not desperate. He’d been that way as long as he could remember.
Glancing at his phone, Aventurine winced as he noted the number of messages he had kept piling up. Responding to people was exhausting. Stephen had sent a series of voice messages, but those were days old by now. The same went for the occasional messages that Ratio had sent almost a month ago. It was probably too late and too awkward to answer them now.
He picked up a cloth and began to furiously polish Thia the owl. Was there any way to mend things with Ratio? His very existence was probably a thorn in his side, so no, most likely not. He could try to send gifts anonymously again, but Ratio had expressed his repulsion to accepting fanmail, so there was a good chance that his efforts would be tossed into the garbage can. For all his connections and resources, he couldn’t think of a single method to reach out to the one man he wanted to speak to.
Caught up in his whirlwind of thoughts, Aventurine missed the sound of the door opening. A small figure stepped in.
“Mister Aventurine?”
Aventurine nearly dropped the statue. “Stephen? What are you doing here?”
“I-” Stephen’s arms stood rigidly at his sides. “I’m sorry for what I said!”
This time, Aventurine dropped the statue. It clattered onto his table, swaying precariously from side to side.
“Stephen,” Aventurine hurried to Stephen in alarm. Stephen’s eyes were downcast, but there was a watery sheen beginning to form. “There’s no reason for you to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“NO!” Stephen yelled, tears now beginning to form around his lash line. “I o-overstepped and was in-con-see-derate of your feelings. I talked badly about you and your parents without knowing anything. I’m sorry.” And then, in a small voice, “P-please don’t hate me. I won’t be childish in the future. He - he said that you would be okay, but I… I will accept if you don’t want me around any longer.”
He? Aventurine had never felt so out of his depth. “I… I accept. Your apology. Now please don’t cry-”
Stephen immediately burst into tears.
“O-oh, I’m sorry,” Stephen hiccuped through his sea of tears. “I’ll stop crying soon, I promise. You d-don’t have’ta worry ‘bout me…”
It took Stephen half a tissue box and a very awkward hug from Aventurine to calm down, but eventually, he was taking deep breaths, fingers curled around a slice of watermelon. “This watermelon isn’t very good. You don’t know how to choose watermelons, Mister Aventurine.” A pause, before Stephen’s eyes widened. “I-I don’t mean that you aren’t smart, I just-”
Aventurine smiled. “Is it? I’ve never bought fruits on my own, so you have to teach me. How about we head out later and you show me how you choose fruits?” Frankly, Aventurine had an absurd amount of paperwork to go through, but he figured that he probably deserved a treat for somewhat reconciling with Stephen.
“No way. We’re busy today.”
Aventurine frowned. “We?”
As if on cue, someone knocked at the door.
“Oh!” Stephen hopped down from his chair. “I forgot to mention, right? I-I thought that it might be good for you to start learning how to read, but it seemed as though you wouldn't want everyone to know about it, so I went to ask someone we know to help us!”
Aventurine had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who Stephen was talking about. He couldn’t tell if it made him happy or scared him. “Stephen, you didn’t have to-”
“It was pretty difficult, you know!” Stephen was on a roll now, excitement reaching its peak. “I had to find someone that I knew you’d be comfortable with. Luckily, he said he could come down every week to secretly teach you!”
“Stephen,” Aventurine’s hand shot out, trying to stop him. “Stephen, did you call-”
It was too late. Stephen threw open the door.
Standing at the door, arms crossed with a tome in his hand, was Doctor Veritas Ratio.