I wanted to do this thing because I just really felt like not doing work. And that I liked this idea so much. It's also really late, so I might not be coherent, but I think I am.

It's a one-shot that's tied to the story I'm writing ("Sour Patch Kids" [look at me shamelessly plugging]). Which I'm holding off on because of work. But I wanted to get this off my brain now.

Hope you enjoy! And reviews are greatly appreciated!

I do not own any rights to Adventure Time whatsoever.

"I never said you had to be perfect!", you shouted at her, holding back tears and wondering why you were even fighting with her in the first place. Oh, that's right. She started it.

"You might've never said that, but either way, I just wasn't good enough for you, huh, Princess?!", she snarled back. Those two words were instantly etched into your memory. "Good enough." What did that even mean?

You looked down at your sneakers; you know, the ones she gave you for your birthday because she wanted you two to match for once. You were both polar opposites; a bassist for a band that plays in growing venues and a budding science genius with a thirst for knowledge of all things. Everything including your clothes were always clashing with the other, but that's what drove you two together in the first place. Your differences made it so that you two fit with each other so perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle, yet here you two were, standing at the airport entrance, arguing.

"You were good enough.", you mumble under your breath, letting a sneaky tear well up in your eye.

"What? I can't hear you, Ms. Perfect Princess Know-it-all!", she taunted, not knowing the size of the lump in your throat that tried choking back your crying.

You clenched your teeth and exploded.

"You were good enough! You were great! You were the best thing that ever happened to me!", you shout as you tightly grip the metal handle of your carry-on luggage.

Her shoulders that were tense now slouch, showing that your words had broken her angry defenses and reached the caring, loving person that you fell in love with. Her face was in shock as a small lock of that long, messy black hair that you adore so much gently fell in front of her face.

"I love you, ok?! I really, really, really do.", you continued.

As you finished your sentence, you couldn't help but sniffle and let heavy tears fall to the ground like rain. The droplets hit the tips of the shoes.

"Bonnie. . . I-"

"No. That's enough.", you interrupted before you wiped away more tears with the arms of your jacket, staining them temporarily with your sadness.

"I love you, Marcy. I really do. But I'm breaking up with you in order to protect you.", you say calmly for once in this airport.

From the moment you got here, you and Marcy have been arguing about your university choice. You had to go there. She had to stay here. You were given a full-ride by the most prestigious university in the country along with immediate research funding. She was given a list of local bars and stages to play at; all of which paid extremely well. One of them even included housing. For the second time in your lives, you were going to be separated, and she couldn't handle it. Neither could you.

You saw her eyes glisten with the promise of tears. Her whole body looked numb and weak. You reposition the strap to your messenger bag that held your laptop and look at once more at her face. This time, you get closer, holding her hand in your free one.

"We'll be far apart from each other. Doing different things. Meeting different people. I don't know what will happen in the future, but to protect you, we need to end us."

You looked into her eyes. They were scared and unwilling to accept the truth, like a child who found out that his parents had been telling him a lie for their whole lives.

"Please, Bonnie. we could work this out. I could Skype you every day and call you every night and send you packages and-"

You heard the desperation in her voice. She couldn't handle it. It broke her. She stopped herself midway and started sobbing. Her rough but gentle hands gripped yours. Her long fingers were firmly pressing down on your hand, like that day she looked into your eyes and confessed to you with the utmost sincerity and seriousness. She wanted to try; her hands were how you knew she was serious, but you knew you couldn't commit to this.

"I know. But I know I can't do that. You won't be able to either. We both know this."

She continued sobbing, letting the clear, dismal drops roll off her face.

"It hurts me to do this to you, but this is for the best."

"Nothing else can hurt me this much, Bonnie.", she whispered.

"You don't know that. You might find someone better than me.", you emptily reassured her.

She looked at you with an unbearable amount of tears in her eyes. She was gritting her teeth in pain, which showed those canines that you loved playfully poking at when you two were cuddling at night. When you did, she would do something like roll on top of you and tickle you. It always made you mad, but she would kiss your anger away.

"Don't say that.", she desperately whimpered.

"I have to."

You both hear a muffled announcement that could only mean one thing; you had to go. She knew this and held onto your shoulders. Her grip was terrifyingly strong, but nothing could hurt you more than this. Marcy looked into your eyes and silently pleaded with you to take back what you said. Your eyes told her that there was no other way.

"I'll always love you, Marcy. Always."

She took in a quivering breath and breathed, "I'll always love you too, Bonnie."

You could tell that she had reluctantly accepted the reality of your situation and gave her a weak smile. A little crack of the corner of your mouth was all you could muster. Every other muscle in your body was drained from everything. You cupped her warm cheek and wiped away a loose tear with your thumb. She put a hand on yours, further contrasting your pale skin with her tan complexion. You gave her a kiss on her other cheek. It was a long and heartbreaking kiss of goodbye.

This was it.

You head towards the sliding doors of the airport with your carry-on luggage loudly rolling behind you. Marcy was left standing at the place you two shared your last tender moment together. You got to the doors as they smoothly opened, but something stopped you at your tracks. You knew it was a bad idea, but you had to. You had to look back.

Marcy was gripping herself tightly. Her short nails looked like they were digging into her arms. She was shaking. That lengthy mess of hair drooped over her head, so you couldn't see her face, but you knew that she was crying. You knew how hurt and broken she must have been because you were the same. You couldn't show it as well as she could though; you were in public, and you cared about how you looked in public. You turned around and went in.

When you found your plane's gate, you sat on the chair closest to the window and brought out your phone. Your plane was staring at you in the face, reminding you that this will be your last time in the same city as your now-ex-lover. You put on your headphones that Marcy gave you to listen to an album that she had recommended a long time ago but you never got the chance to listen to.

It sounds like an album she would make; acoustic guitars partnered with their electric brothers and bass cousins, powerful vocals and pitch perfect harmonies, and, just like Marcy's songs, amazing and beautiful lyrics. You listened to a few songs in bittersweet peace, softly smiling at how much each piece reminded you of Marcy until someone in a dark blue uniform called out your seating area. You took your luggage, showed the employee your ticket, smiled to respectfully thank her, and walked to the plane on that makeshift bridge you secretly hoped would collapse so you wouldn't have to leave so soon. It didn't.

When you became settled in your seat near the window, you realize that a new and different song was playing. Strong piano chords were echoing in your bubblegum pink headphones.

-e can't stay!

Everything we've ever had now is ending.

I didn't wanna have to say our goodbye.

Baby,

it's best we

let this go.

Trust me;

It's better if we just

let this come

crashing down.

There's no way to fix it now.

We're lost in the crowd, and

our love will soon decay;

just look at the mess we've made.

We both know that we can't stay.

I'm sorry but I can't stay.

Just look at the mess we've made.

A woman and man were singing in perfect, bitter harmony in such a way that each note was dripping with emotion. The song was ending, but you instantly put it in a single, infinite loop. You didn't know why, but you needed this song right now. This was going to be the song that absorbed your current emotions because it fits so well. You heard the soft introduction slowly play as you rest your head against the window and close your eyes to finally come to terms with what happened within the past hour.

Images of Marcy flashed through your mind as you remembered everything that you two had shared together. But the most prominent image was the most recent one that you took in your mental camera. Her broken state was what haunted you and made your chest physically hurt the most.

A pair of tears escaped your closed eyes and rolled diagonally across your face as you mentally apologized to Marcy, hoping that she would have telepathy for that one moment to listen to you and to tell you,

"It's ok.

I love you."

I also don't own the rights to "Mess We've Made" by AJ Rafael featuring Tori Kelly from the album Red Roses(, which Marceline recommended because red but not really).