The room was cold, and the air laid heavy on the two people present. A bushy-haired, brown-eyed young man sat by the bed, a single tear streaking slowly across his rounded face. Steven looked at Connie, her dark skin slightly paler in her old age, and he thought about the last 60 years he'd had together with her. A daffodil-yellow sundress hung loosely on Connie's shoulders and her eyes were closed.
Steven rolled his shoulder into his eye, wiping a tear away on his dark pink shirt. "Connie, I-"
She interrupted him, her voice both frail and strong, as beautiful as it had always been. "No, don't say anything. It's okay, Steven, it really is. I'm just a human, and you have a 'magical destiny'. Go be the Hero." She opened her eyes and looked at him, then.
Emotion began pouring out of Steven, his heart bursting from the inside, out. A low sob escaped from his trembling lips, still unable to process what was happening, what would happen soon. "I can't do this. I need you, Connie. You're my-"
Connie interrupted him again, torn on the inside by his obvious grief. "Jam buddy. You'll always be my strawberry, Steven."
"You'll always be my biscuit, Connie." Steven's hand wrapped around hers, the strong hand cradling her fragile one. "Connie... C-can we have one last dance?"
"Steven," she replied, a sad smile playing across her mouth, already wrapped by decades of laugh lines. "I'm 72 and three quarters; I'm old."
"Well, then, what I guess I want to ask is... Will you share this jam with me?" Steven put on his best pout, and in less than a second, she relented.
"I could never say no to you, Steven," Connie said, as she sat up in the soft bed. Her husband gently placed a hand on her stomach, to steady her, and helped her out of the bed and to her feet. Steven reached over to the cassette player that Connie had always kept on her bedside table, and put in an appropriate song. Soon, the first notes of "Last Dance" began singing through the room. So here we are, I can't believe our song is fading out.
With a small cough and a smile, Connie looked up at her giant companion, and put her hands in his. They slowly began shuffling their feet together, back and forth, Steven guiding her steps with care. Thought we would dance like this, forever... Now every single note is breaking down. 'Til there's no sound...
The couple gradually picked up the pace, soft giggles and chuckles escaping both of them, from their apparent lack of practice. The music continued to travel through the air, creating a sad but honest feel for the both of them. The two swayed together to the tempo of the music, breathing in the moment. Steven dipped Connie down low, and brought her back up. Connie took Steven's left hand, and lifted it above her head, performing a slow twirl under his arm. Then, he wrapped that arm around her, gently rolling her out and back in, holding her close and tight around her slim waist. But I won't let you see me cry. This is our last dance. This is our last dance...
With stars in his eyes, Steven bent down, and placed a kiss on Connie's laughing lips, and a pink glow shined between them. Amidst laughs and a blinding light, all went still. This is our last dance... The song faded out, and a new figure stood in the middle of the room.
"I am an experience, I am your experience." Stevonnie's voice seemed to echo through the empty space, and a warm feeling filled their chest. A small smile grew on their lips, and they let one last tear fall. The draft in the room blew their pink and yellow blouse around them. "And this experience was meant to last for a little longer." Stevonnie walked out of the room then, and one single emotion swelled within them, so much so, that they were sure it'd be the only feeling they'd feel for a long, long time: Love.
AN: Ya know, for a fic about letting go, I kind of ironically wish I could make this bit longer, try to expand it. Though, it's a well-rounded one-shot, and I should probably accept that. Everything has an end; try to enjoy the experience while you can, I guess.