Chapter Text
“It was a stupid idea from the start…” Connie sniffled before taking a prolonged, shaky lick from a multi-colored popsicle. She started clicking a high-heel against the asphalt of the gas station curbside as she then felt mascara begin to trickle down her cheeks, onto her frilly, blue dress.
“What!? I thought it was romantic!” Steven protested, half-melted ice cream sandwich in hand. He wiped sticky, white droplets from his tuxedo’s pants as he then scooted in closer to his girlfriend’s side. “Just because things didn’t turn out, well, perfectly doesn’t take away from that…”
“Steven, we were mobbed…” Connie groaned, biting off the tip of her frozen treat, “which I really should’ve seen coming…”
Steven sighed before nibbling a corner off his sandwich. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for that… I mean, I’m the one that took all those interviews. If I hadn’t done that, then… well, nobody would’ve even known who we were…”
Connie wiped rapidly-drying tears from her cheeks. “That’s ridiculous. You saved the entire world multiple times—we both did. We deserve to have our names out there.”
“I know, I know,” Steven grumbled. He then leaned into Connie’s shoulder, where he took in her perfume’s scent—strawberries. “I guess I kinda just… wish we could do normal human things without, y’know, that happening…”
Connie snickered before letting out a sniffle. “Prom is barely a ‘normal human thing,’ Steven. Most students—over fifty percent—don’t even attend. Didn’t I explain that when I pitched the whole thing?”
“Yeah…” Steven confirmed through a chuckle as he buried his face in his girlfriend's neck. “It may sound kinda cheesy, but I think… maybe I just wanted an excuse to dance with you… Y’know, kinda like when we were little kids...”
Connie quirked a brow before softening her expression. “Steven…”
“It feels like we haven’t done it in ages—not ever since we were at that roller rink. Even then, though, I guess that was Stevonnie,” he dryly snickered. “Still, whenever we'd do it, I'd just feel… amazing and I—”
“Steven,” Connie suddenly, sternly interrupted, causing the man to shoot up and meet her eyes. “All you had to do was ask."
“I-I know, but you’re always so busy with your school work a-and college prep. I wouldn’t want to bother you when—”
“Steven,” Connie once more interrupted, pressing a finger against her boyfriend’s lips. “Just…”—she tossed her popsicle into a nearby garbage bin—”come with me, okay?”
In a grassy clearing beneath a full moon, two sticky-handed, well-dressed young adults peacefully swayed together in rhythm to a playlist which they had slowly compiled over their many years together. It did not matter whether each song fit the mood or not; they would dance nonetheless.
By the time of what they recognized as the playlist’s final hurrah, they were all but spent. Still, one of them mustered the energy to dip the other, and a blinding light soon followed…
Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid idea after all.