He and Fionna were best friends. They had known each other for a very long time in her eyes. In his, not so much, nonetheless, she had grown up with him by her side ever since she moved out on her own at the tender age of thirteen. Marshall knew that this was a mistake, she should have stayed with her parents longer, enjoyed their company while she had them, but she was intent on living on her own.
So he had let her move into one of his old houses. He had always looked out for her, with and without her knowledge and he had loved her even then, before he had even known that it was love, he had loved her fiercely and would destroy anyone who harmed her. He loved her. He soon realized this and was shocked at himself, him, the Vampire King, falling in love with a human girl? A human girl who happened to be only thirteen years old?
He knew she was too young. He knew this and he was content with waiting until she was older to pursue any kind of romantic aspect to their relationship. Until then, he was fine with being her best friend, confidant and fellow adventurer. He had a great deal of patience; after all, patience is one of those things you pick up over a thousand years. However, not that much longer after his realization, one beautiful summer's eve, just after sunset, he looked at her and knew.
She had just turned seventeen and liked to think of herself as all 'grown up' yet she was still the same Fionna he had known and loved before. Her spirit was strong and adventurous and she was beautiful inside and out. He looked at her that summer's night while she gazed up at the sky and knew that this was the girl he had been looking for. Girls like Fionna came along rarely with few and far between and Marshall Lee wasn't going to let her get away.
It was that warm night, under the stars in a field upon the hill, with the lightning bugs glowing and the crickets chirping in the background while he strummed his guitar and hummed a tune. She had her head resting on his shoulder, a gesture that, to Marshall brought pure joy, but to Fionna was purely innocent. She pointed out a shooting star and told him that he must wish on it, it would be sure to come true. Marshall thought for a moment and knew what he would wish for. He wanted an end for the longing; he wanted to mean more to Fionna than just her 'best bud'. He made his wish and it was then that Marshall decided that he was done waiting.
She had changed from a pretty girl into a beautiful young woman while he had stayed the same, perfectly, forever eighteen. He had thought and even secretly even hoped, only for Fionna's best interest, that his love would diminish over time, but that was not the case. Actually quite the contrary, each day his love for her doubled. Sometimes it felt as if his heart, dead and un-beating, would be ripped out of his chest with the love he felt. When he was with her, she made him feel alive again. Everything about her was amazing, the way she could go from the fanciest of dances one moment, to slaying a beast with her sword the next. Everything was so effortless for her.
He turned and looked at her, her eyes half closed as she dozed, listening to his music, her hair, which was so often up, cascading down her shoulders, her lips, barely parted, full and beautiful. The more he looked at her lips, the more he wanted to kiss them, he wanted to kiss Fionna, to kiss her over and over again and tell her exactly what she meant to him. He knew he couldn't do this, and he wouldn't. He was horribly afraid that he would mess up his chances with her and she would never talk to him again. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, annoyed at the situation.
He decided to start singing. That always helped him to concentrate and control his emotions. He began to sing the some he had written for her, only yesterday. It was a song of love, of undisclosed desire, of every feeling of want, of hope, of longing that he had ever felt. It trailed off on a blank note, it was unfinished, and it would remain so for now. It was too hard to think about what might never be. It would end up breaking his heart and hers if things went badly; they already were so intertwined within each other's lives, doing anything to separate them from each other for any extended period of time would be like taking a chunk out of their lives. The words, new ones now, were tinged with melancholy notes. They were, for all the uncertainty, the fear and caution that surrounded his love.
Fionna picked up her head and looked at him. He refused to meet her eyes, afraid that he would get lost in their blue depths and would lose control of himself. He preoccupied himself with counting stars until she went back to dozing. He counted exactly seven stars when he felt something warm and soft again his cheek. Fionna's hand cupped his cheek, firmly, but softy as well. She turned his head and forced him to look at her and quietly asked him if everything was alright. She was concerned, it showed in her kind eyes, and her voice was soft, comforting, like silk moving over her lips.
He was going to reassure her, tell her nothing was wrong, but something stopped him. Something inside of him made him consider her words earlier; that if her were to wish on the star, it would be sure to come true. He had wished. Therefore, according to Fionna, it was inevitable. So instead of reassuring her, he leaned down and kissed her. It was a brief yet tender kiss. It was full of love and longing. He wanted that moment to last forever, yet he pulled back before it had even begun and took up his bass again, strumming some notes absentmindedly while he awaited her reaction. He didn't have to wait long. He stole a quick glance at her and watched as she put her hand to her lips and rested them there. She stared off into the ground as she tried to make sense of what had happened in the moments prior.
He waited and continued counting the stars as he had before. This time he got to sixty before Fionna said a word. When she did, she whispered his name. Said it so softly that even he, with his supernatural hearing, could barely hear it. She repeated herself once more and looked at his. He gazed back at her, his eyes questioning. He felt good about what had happened, but there was a part of him, a part that was growing greater with each passing moment of silence on her part, that feared that she would run off.
She didn't though, quite the contrary; she looked at him with her large blue eyes and, still very quietly, asked him why he had done that. There was no accusation, no anger or disgust in her voice, just curiosity. It was impossible for him to know what she was thinking. He blushed lightly, glad that it was dark enough out that his face was in shadow.
He took a moment and composed himself and when he responded, it was no lengthy declaration of how he knew she was the one for him the moment he saw her, it was no love novel with words that would fill hours upon hours. When he spoke it was four words. They were simple and to the point. He had said what his reason was, just as she asked. He had kissed her because he loved her; it was as simple as that.
He told her and it was as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his very soul. He felt as if he could be himself more. It all depended on her reaction, on whether or not she was shocked away from him. The next few moments would be life altering for him and he would remember and replay them over and over in his mind for years to come.