Stephen walked by the kitchen door, his usual quiet movement disguising his passing as he went to the chair he sat in to think. He thought too much, his parents had said, and his teachers. Less thinking, more action was the way they thought, but he didn't know how to do that. Rose was like that...but she was understanding too, he thought, the kind of person he was good at talking to.<br/><br/>At the moment he was thinking of swaying hips and the sight of Rose walking back into the kitchen. He had the usual horrified and nervous knot in his stomach, not jealousy but instead...fear.<br/><br/>That was the emotion that had kept him from action more often than anything, and also perhaps his wandering mind, but mostly there was fear.<br/><br/>He sat rubbing his temples, hoping time would slip away as it often did when he was thinking, he wasn't sure he could stand a night with Nick around, it wasn't what he did...so much as what he was.<br/><br/>Stephen could only wait, though, Rose was the the one with the guts, he just had a mind.