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The picnic basket is almost insanely heavy.
Steven can feel his arm aching just from the effort of holding it, which is vaguely concerning to say the least. Isn’t he supposed to be strong? Able to lift the heaviest of things with minimal effort? Maybe it’s less that the basket is heavy, and more than he’s been carrying it through the park for what feels like hours.
He hopes they’re nearly there.
He should ask.
“Are we nearly there?” He asks, and he scrunches up his face in protest when Connie doesn’t answer. “I’m dying.”
She laughs at that. The look that she gives him over her shoulder is almost painfully deadpan, and he stifles a laugh when she squints at him and mutters “Then perish.”
“Harsh,” Steven says, shaking his head.
“But fair.”
“Is not!”
“Is too.”
“No it— wait, shit—” the basket slips in his hand a little, and he stumbles as he tries to catch it before it collides with the ground. It both works and doesn’t, and he winces when he hears the scrape of the bottom of the basket dragging along the grass. “...shit.”
“Wow. Smooth,” Connie says, and before he can even blink she’s by his side, one hand gripping the handle of the basket and holding it between them. Her hip bumps against his gently, and he bumps back a little harder, grinning when she looks at him in mock offence.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m gonna throw bread at you when we start eating, I hope you know that.”
He shrugs. “I can live with that.”
“That’s what you think.”
Steven opens his mouth to respond but suddenly Connie’s gone, and the basket drags him down a little again as she runs in front of him, eyes so happily lit up with excitement that he can almost see stars in them.
“We’re here!” She says, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he runs after her, skidding through the dirt and staring at the patch of grass she’s gesturing to.
It’s beautiful.
It’s perfect and neat and green, with no dry or bare patches. It’s dotted with dandelions, seeds already floating gently though the air. It’s surrounded by flowers, a mix of multicoloured petals that stand together to create incredible patterns.
It’s beautiful, it’s perfect, it’s so utterly Connie, and Steven slips one of his hands into hers and squeezes tight as he takes it in.
“I love it,” Steven whispers, and he can’t help the smile that slips over his face when Connie presses a gentle kiss to his cheek in response. She drags him after her, pulling him along, pushing him down into the grass with a soft thump and collapsing beside him. Her hands dig through the basket and pull out a blanket, and he watches as she settles it on the ground and rolls onto it, already reaching out for him.
He’s by her side in an instant.
“Worth the wait?” She says, a strand of hair slipping over her face as she shifts to get closer to him.
“You always are,” he whispers back. “This place is beautiful.”
“I knew you’d like it.” She shifts closer again, resting her head against his shoulder and her hands on his chest, and he watches as her gaze shifts from his face up to the sky, searching through the clouds with a smile. “That one looks like a donut.”
A laugh escapes him as he looks up at where she’s pointing, at a cloud above them that’s almost perfectly circular with a hole straight through the middle.
His hand reaches up to join hers, and he laces his fingers through hers briefly before pulling away to point at another cloud. “That one looks kinda like dog.”
“It has something sticking out of the top, though.”
“It’s dogcopter!” He says, just as she says the same thing at the same time. He smiles at her as she buries a laugh in his shoulder, hands clinging gently to his jacket, and she presses a gentle kiss to his neck.
“Connie...” a small laugh escapes him, growing a little louder when she kisses the same spot again, murmuring a soft I love you against the skin. “I love you too, you- wait, Connie!”
“And I love your laugh.” Another kiss, another laugh, and she pulls away, seemingly satisfied. “Especially when I’m the one causing it.”
“That was uncalled for.” A pout overtakes his features, and he flinches away with a giggle when Connie leans towards his neck again.
“It was cute.”
“You’re cute.”
He grins. “No, you.”
“Don’t uno reverse card me, Universe.”
His response to that is only to pull her in closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead and holding her in his arms, letting his eyes flutter closed as he focuses on everything around him.
The blanket, soft and comforting underneath him.
The sound of birdsong, distant and constant from somewhere in the trees.
The breeze rustling through the grass, gentle and familiar all around him.
And Connie in his arms, clinging to him, holding him, loving him. Connie, who set up a picnic to have in the most beautiful place she could find. Connie, who sees shapes in the clouds. Connie, who gives him soft kisses and compliments his laugh. Connie, who cares. Connie, who’s so unbelievably amazing. Connie, who loves him. Connie, Connie, Connie.
He loves her.
It’s all he can think, all he can feel, all he knows, and he kisses her forehead again, whispering messy thoughts that he doesn’t know how to string into coherent sentences. Love, basket, flowers, blanket, clouds, kiss, laugh, love.
She whispers it back. “Love.”
“Love.”
It’s all they need to say.
They both understand.
He whispers it again as Connie yawns, her face pressed against his shoulder and her grip on his jacket loosening, and when he looks down she’s drifting off to sleep beside him, her hair messy and her breath soft.
“I love you,” he says. One more kiss, and he falls asleep beside her, holding tight to her like she’s the only thing in the world.