Work Text:
With the final few words written – and one last emphatic tap of her keyboard to prove as such – Connie was done.
She had proofread her latest essay (three times to be exact), fixing mistakes along with the occasional rewrite before exporting it to a PDF, and sending it in to her professor. Now, finally, Connie turned off her laptop and put it aside… before throwing her head back with what could only be described as a scream.
You see, the recently completed essay was the eleventh of the semester so far, on top of a lab practical, and midterm prep. In other words, she was on the edge of breakdown. She always knew college was going to be a nightmare, but… God . If she was being honest with herself, taking on Homeworld and all its forces would be a cakewalk compared to higher education.
Mid-mental breakdown, her phone buzzed from across the room. With the little energy she had left, she got up from her chair and grabbed the device to discover a text from her long-distance traveling boyfriend. Steven .
‘ Hey Berry ,’ it read. ‘ How’s college? ’
Connie stared at the screen, the post-essay haze of her brain seemingly erasing her capability to formulate the most basic response. However long she did so must have been too long in Steven’s book, because he texted her again.
‘Stressed out?’
Once again, she stared at the screen. Once more, she appeared to take too long as Steven texted again.
‘Want me to come over?’
A moment of brain clarity. Connie practically smashed her thumb through her phone to type yes.
***
Connie sighed as the stress melted away. She was submerged in a hot bubble bath, armed with a fruity bubble tea, and mid-shoulder massage, all courteous of Steven.
“Oh, Biscuit,” she said, turning head to see him. “You didn’t need to do this at all.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he replied. “You deserve everything. And besides… this isn’t everything I have for you.”
He stood up, but not before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, disrobing his new blue jacket, and dropping it by the door.
“See you in a minute.” And with that, he closed the door behind him. Connie laughed at this, her essay-addled brain already putting two and two together on what was he hinting.
If this is what he gives me for 11 essays, I can’t wait for what he gives me at graduation.