Chapter Text
As Lapis, she has been on Earth for five months, two weeks, and four days.
In the beginning, she wasn’t too good at counting the hours, minutes or seconds; Steven was helpful in showing her a calendar and explaining how humans keep track.
Day and night cycles help her mark down day in and day out since she‘s unfused with Jasper and took residence on the Crystal Gems‘ couch.
The first thing Steven did to try and help her be comfortable was claim the couch as Hers.
“It’s… mine?” Lapis asks, eyes blank when looking over the piece of furniture. It wasn’t much to brag about. It’s like a chair, but longer? Probably to hold more occupants.
She remembers seeing two of the Crystal Gems sitting on it when Steven went to tell them about her. How she’s thinking in there. Not a dead tool.
Her form’s hands clutch tighter at her own biceps, as if to keep together and not poof. That’s what they would want, anyways.
“Yeah!” Steven answers cheerfully, moving past Lapis to sit on it with ease, short legs kicking over the edge. “You can’t really stay in the temple like the others can, so… you can stay here! From here on out, this couch belongs to Lapis Lazuli!” His arms go up in the air, as if announcing something great in the grand scheme of things. But it just made her seem more uneasy. Something in the Crystal Gem’s lair, hers? It makes her skin crawl, finger pads trying to sooth the feeling, gaze faltering away at the ground.
Getting a less eager response than expected, the boy’s arms lower down to the cushion, eyes wandering as if to find the key to Lapis’ calm. All he could do is pat his palm at the space next to him, offering a kind smile. “At least give it a try? It’s suuuuuper comfy.” His smile grows into a toothy grin, eyebrows dancing up and down, it earning a giggle bubbling from Lapis’ lips.
He always was easy like that. She moved around the table to sit near his hand, rather than on it, all the while he kicked his feet, as if he was about to burst at her cooperating. “Yeeeah!! How do you like it, Lapis? Comfy, right?” He asks, eyes starry and expecting.
Her weight makes the cushion sink, giving some bounce back as Lapis tested it out, hands slowly going down to rub her palms at the surface. Not as smooth as her skin, nothing special.
By itself, it’s nothing special, but a part of her warms up at the sensation, eyes going down to look at her palm close to Steven’s, poking his pudgy thumb. It’s warm. Warmer than how she feels, and suddenly, she gets colder, pulling away as her knuckles rasped against the fabric to clench gently away.
“Y…Yeah. Thank’s Steven.”
And in a blink, another week passed, and she‘s counted every stitch on one of the couch‘s cushions seventy-two times.
Earth days are so short.