? So This is Love ? Steven x Reader

The bitumen road rumbled under the wheels of the Dondai, quietly accompanying the drone of the radio as Steven drove. The evening was young, and Steven passed people walking dogs or jogging. Earlier he'd seen the café, which he'd finally taken mental note of the name of ('Le Haricot Bistro.' Must be French, he'd thought) closing up, and it'd taken an embarrassing amount of focus to not turn pink just at the memory of... her.

A small rucksack sat in the passenger seat. Connie had instructed that he bring his journal (He'd written about the mystery girl in there, and Connie was interested in looking over that for... some reason) and laptop, but other than that he hadn't brought much.

Her address was written on a bright green sticky note Steven had stuck on the dashboard: 17 Chestnut Rd, big dome + yellow door. He was thankful for the little description Connie had given of the place along with the actual street number; the address was different to the one he's used to, she must've moved. The house was closer than he'd originally thought, he'd be early. Oh well.

An odd nervousness filled Steven as the little house nestled on the street's corner came into view.

It was a pretty house, walls a soft powder blue and bordered by flowers. Upon the front veranda sat a little outdoor chair-and-table set and leaning next to the lemon-yellow front door was an equally yellow pushbike. Steven recognized it; he'd spotted it all over town over the last few days. Either that bike model is particularly popular or whoever rides it must get out a lot, he thought to himself.

What looked to be a later addition to the house, a large building similar to a silo in shape sat pressed against the side of the house. Its top was a large glass dome, similar to Steven's old greenhouse at home. The windows scattered across its walls didn't give any hints to the building's contents.

He sighed to himself, tapping a random beat on the steering wheel. You don't need to be scared, it's just Connie, he thought, trying to fight the sudden bought of fear (was fear the right word? It didn't feel like it).

He parked next to the house and hopped out of his car, pulling his bag out with him. The driveway was steep as the house sat on a hill and Steven make his way up the little stairway built into the side of it. He giggled to himself at the mental image of the bike's rider shooting down the driveway and zipping off onto the road.

Closer to the house now, he spotted a little ceramic frog hiding within the blooming bushes. On the whole, the house was adorable, so picturesque and sweet, he could imagine a little old lady sitting on the veranda knitting or petting a sleepy cat.

He climbed the stone steps and knocked on the door three times, short and sharp.

A beat of silence passed. The door swung open, revealing a smiling Connie.

"Wow, you're early," She commented as she ushered him inside.

"Yeah, sorry about that," He chuckled, "Just so excited to see you again."

The inside of the house was just as pleasant as the exterior. Comfortable couches sat under colourful paintings of woodlands and castles; the short coffee table held a vase of fresh flowers placed on a lace doily; The entire house smelled of fresh baked goods.

"This house is so cute," Steven sighed, eyes trailing over the staircase next to him and its intricate railing, "You have such a nice place, Connie."

"I appreciate it, but this isn't my house."

He stared at her blankly, "Who's house is it then?"

She chirped a name Steven didn't recognize. "My roommate," she elaborated, "This is her Nana and Grammy's place, and I'm just staying over while remodelling happens at home. Didn't I tell you this already?"