Summary: Steven has finally returned after over a week of being stuck in the headspace. You don't have the heart to lie to him. It's a lot for him to take in. (two out of three boys ain't bad)
Content: Angst. So, so much dialogue. Marc is Protective™, Reader is kinda an unreliable narrator.
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Steven Grant was a stress cleaner.
It's one thing that's hard to believe about the man. He was an absolute mess most of the time, leaving books and little knick knacks strewn about on every surface that he touched. He would leave a half-eaten sandwich on the counter for days and he'd forget to close cupboards while he cooked himself dinner. During his normal routine in the calmest parts of his life, Steven was a whirlwind of messiness.
Not today though. It was the first time he'd fronted in ten days and no one could understand why. When he opened his eyes and found himself at home, in his own bed, with no recollection of the past week and a half, he was filled with absolute panic. There was an unusual silence in his head, as if for once he was all alone in there. He'd had to call for his alters just to make sure that they were, in fact, still around. They couldn't explain to him why he'd been gone so long, and he couldn't explain it back to them, either. So he did the only thing he knew how to do with all those racing thoughts fueling him; he began to deep-clean the apartment.
His nervous energy startled you as you walked through the front door. You came home from work expecting Marc-or even half-expecting Jake- as Steven had been gone for so long. A wave of relief washed over you as soon as you heard his energetic rambling; the familiar British accent assured you that your sweet Steven had returned to you. Apparently, he had gained a desire to organize his entire library while he was away.
"Oh! Hello, love," He looked up at you for a second before returning to his task. He was sat criss-cross on the floor, reading glasses on and surrounded by at least a hundred books. "Sorry about the mess."
