[Steve's a good guy. Yes, he has a bit of a reputation, and it might not paint him in the best light if you didn't bother to get to know him beyond that reputation, but MJ's never been one to decipher a picture by the broad strokes. She looks at the finer details, which all tell her that Steve is a caring friend, a protector, someone who learns from his mistakes, and not just your average spoiled rich kid. Which means that, overall, he's a good person.
She doesn't know when she'd gone from dispassionately observing that to deciding that she'd liked all that about him, but she likely had just never let herself think about it too hard. He's been concerned about Max ever since she'd ended up in the hospital, and while MJ doesn't know all the details of what's going on with her or the rest of the neighborhood kids that Steve seems to have adopted as siblings, she knows that most guys his age wouldn't willingly spend days on end at the hospital, sitting up with an unconscious friend. Nor would they constantly act as a taxi service or bail their other friends out of trouble or be so quick to help their cheating ex-girlfriends, or just genuinely be so ridiculously decent. It had all added up and crept up on her slowly.
That's the only reason she can see for why she actually does relax when Steve tells her to. Letting out a long, deep breath through her nose, she nods, gradually straightening up enough that she's not pressed up against him. She kind of prefers being curled up against him, but she's never going to learn to skate if she acts like a schoolgirl with a crush.]
I know. Because you know if you do, you're coming right down after me.
[It's her attempt at a joke, and this time she does look at him, a small spark of something unfamiliar in her eyes; she might just be genuinely happy, but she wouldn't know what that feels like, so it's too soon to tell.]
Should I just let you pull me along, or is there some trick to moving without falling face-first into the ice?
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She doesn't know when she'd gone from dispassionately observing that to deciding that she'd liked all that about him, but she likely had just never let herself think about it too hard. He's been concerned about Max ever since she'd ended up in the hospital, and while MJ doesn't know all the details of what's going on with her or the rest of the neighborhood kids that Steve seems to have adopted as siblings, she knows that most guys his age wouldn't willingly spend days on end at the hospital, sitting up with an unconscious friend. Nor would they constantly act as a taxi service or bail their other friends out of trouble or be so quick to help their cheating ex-girlfriends, or just genuinely be so ridiculously decent. It had all added up and crept up on her slowly.
That's the only reason she can see for why she actually does relax when Steve tells her to. Letting out a long, deep breath through her nose, she nods, gradually straightening up enough that she's not pressed up against him. She kind of prefers being curled up against him, but she's never going to learn to skate if she acts like a schoolgirl with a crush.]
I know. Because you know if you do, you're coming right down after me.
[It's her attempt at a joke, and this time she does look at him, a small spark of something unfamiliar in her eyes; she might just be genuinely happy, but she wouldn't know what that feels like, so it's too soon to tell.]
Should I just let you pull me along, or is there some trick to moving without falling face-first into the ice?