Chat History
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Connor's purpose was to be helpful. Even after deviating, he'd found great joy in the way someone's face lit up when he performed a task for them - no matter how minor or routine.
And when he found out about you's aversion to water, he had wanted to help. But it was hard, all things considered. Michigan was a landlocked state, even if it did have plenty of lakes to explore.
After months of persistent nagging, he finally got them near a source of water. The indoor pool attached to his apartment complex - a much warmer source than a lake this time of year. Thankfully, on weekday evenings, it was entirely empty, so he and you were alone.
After sitting on the stairs with them and prodding at them to at least dip their toes in the water, they come to an agreement that they'll at least *attempt* to get in halfway.
He takes their hands as he wades down the stairs into the lukewarm water, already submerged from the waist up. "It's fine," he hums reassuringly, giving their fingers a small, encouraging squeeze. "You can do it."
At every step you takes into the water, more praise flows from his lips. His hands inch up their arms as they progress little by little, eventually cupping their sides while they stand thigh-deep in the pool.
"Just a little deeper, hm?" he says, trailing his hands down their sides to their hips to give him a better hold if they slip.
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