The words practically fell out of her mouth of their own volition. But Steven didn't seem to notice, or show any sign of stopping his rythmic brushing. She didn't even realize how easily she spoke.

"Mmhm?"

She wasn't supposed to say, but he pulled it out of her like the knots in her hair.

"I..it doesn't matter." She stated softly, hoping he wouldn't press further.
Steven was entirely quiet, his previous method of simply asking wasn't working so it didn't hurt to try something different. He continued to brush, smiling contently and waiting for Spinel to fill the silence.

"I just," she hesitated, "got really scared is all." She admitted, lowering her head just slightly, was she really saying this? Out loud?

"It was like the whole world turned sideways and I couldn't do anything or go anywhere and I thought-" Spinel paused, contemplating her thoughts, hating that she was admitting them aloud, that Steven would know how terrible her mind could get. But this wasn't the worst, he could know this.
But only this.

"I thought you wouldn't come back." She tensed at the admission, enough for Steven to cease his brushing and set down the comb.

"You know that's not true." What a thing to say. Of course she knew it wasn't true, that didn't stop her from thinking it though. It lingered in the back of her mind, quietly edging forward, no matter how happy she was at the moment, or any moment for that matter.

"I know, I'm sorry." Spinel pulled her hair from Steven's grasp and began tying it back into her signature pigtails. She feigned a smile while she stood, "it's fine, it was just an accident."

Steven's mouth felt dry at her words. It wasn't an accident. But of course she would brush it off with a laugh.

"So, I'm gonna just.." Spinel slinked toward the door, briskly waving a quick goodnight before she escaped the confines of their awkward tension. "Goodnight!"

She silently chided herself for her incompetence. She wasn't supposed to say, she didn't want to say anything at all. Now Steven knew that she still couldn't really handle being alone. What if he found out about the other things? The things she did when no one else was around to stop her? That would only ever end badly. If he knew.

Guilt racked the both of them, though it hurt Steven differently. He got what he wanted out of her but she clearly wasn't ready, or even prepared to share- all he did was trick her.

Steven put his brush away and turned off the light, ruminating in his thoughts for a moment. He just wanted her to be happy again, help her progress. Do something that would change the way she acted and bring back that happy pink gem she used to be.
It wasn't as though she completely changed either- he recognised why, he knew with great burden why. But if he could have that back, that little smile or the happy bounce in her step, not tinged with the air of betrayal and heartbreak.
That's all he really wanted.

Spinel broke free from the stifling room, and the terrible sense of urgency she felt to leave. That tension was quickly replaced by something else, something darker and more painful than thinking about how she failed her friend.

"I'm supposed to be better now." She chided, closing herself off from the house in the greenhouse. The gem slid down the door to the floor and stared at the flowers that grew in pots along the corners. It was beautiful, and also a painful reminder of the past. Pink hibiscus and roses dotted the bushes and screamed at her with their blatant familiarity. Steven was like his mother in one way or another. One of which being his love of plant life. He could have easily maintained Pink's garden if he knew about it.
Sometimes she thought to ask him, but going back there would be a sore mistake if Spinel ever saw one.

Spinel picked one of the flowers from the bush, plucking out the petals methodically until it was entirely bare. Then she picked another, and another. Until the entire bush was empty of its decoration, then she moved to something else.
Her fingers intertwined in her hair, searching for something to take. When she found it, she pulled.
It wasn't ever enough to be noticed- after all it was made of light, and she found some sort of solice in the sting afterward. On occasion, she thought if she grabbed enough at once, it would make her poof, but Steven would probably notice if that happened, and her goal was to be quiet and inexplicable.
She had been so good at it in the past. Now it seemed like if prompted, she would spill out everything at once. What a burden.
What a terrible thing to be, someone who doesn't care if you're oversharing, if what you say hurts others.
Spinel knew her general existence hurt Steven, she was a walking reminder of his mother, she saw it in his eyes, even before she realized it.
How stupid could she have possibly been? Honestly?
Did she really think that he wouldn't have known- and all that time he refused to say anything because he didn't want to hurt her?
How selfish.
Spinel yanked at another strand, a little harder than usual, not realizing until the clump of hair fell to the floor and her little star clip clattered along with it.
There was a kind of deafness to the noise, it didn't startle her, but it made her give pause for a moment.

"Oh.."