Pudding. [Closed]
Even if it made Miku suffer heart palpitations, Steve always found the comfort of his house's usual clutter very relaxing. Even if it was just a sensorium projection, and even if he could warp it clean with a mere thought, it was kind of nice to see the laundry sitting half-folded on the couch, or his dad's coat having fallen off the coatrack, or the stack of dishes in the sink that Steve had at some point neglected to do, probably in favor of video games or riding his motorcycle around the block.
He was trying to tidy up a bit here and there, though, if only for Miku's sake. And if only because she had promised to make him pudding to make him feel better after another of his weekly shots. He still looked a bit pale and looking too closely at his arm would show sickly greenish veins near his elbow, but he had so far kept it covered with the sleeve of his flannel shirt.
"Sugar... sugar... here it is," he said, reaching up on a high shelf and pulling down a bag of sugar to hand down to Miku. That was his other job while she was cooking-- fetching stuff off the high shelves.
He was trying to tidy up a bit here and there, though, if only for Miku's sake. And if only because she had promised to make him pudding to make him feel better after another of his weekly shots. He still looked a bit pale and looking too closely at his arm would show sickly greenish veins near his elbow, but he had so far kept it covered with the sleeve of his flannel shirt.
"Sugar... sugar... here it is," he said, reaching up on a high shelf and pulling down a bag of sugar to hand down to Miku. That was his other job while she was cooking-- fetching stuff off the high shelves.