A/N: Hello all! This will be the only authors note from me because I'm cross posting this from my AO3. So if you want to see all that kind of stuff go to my twitter ' abadeerly' and see my pinned tweet for the link to my account.
Marceline has to physically stop herself from yelling. Or running away. Or, well, anything too dramatic that came to mind as soon as she had stepped inside her new dorm room. She hadn't even paid attention to the other person in the room-also stood in shock now that Marceline had closed the door and let out an inhuman shriek. She'd just unlocked the door, pull her suitcase inside, and looked up. Oh, how she regretted looking up. How she regretted agreeing to move away to college just for the sake of making her father happy.
Lo and behold, as if the whole world was against her (and Marceline had a sneaking suspicion it was), stood Bonnibel Bennett. Red hair much shorter than Marceline remembered, freckles less visible, blue eyes wide with surprise. Yes, Marceline came to the conclusion that this was the universe's way of telling her she shouldn't have spent all her money on a cherry red gibson les paul in the summer.
"Hi," Of course Bonnibel Bennett was the first to speak. Of course Marceline just stood their flailing with her mouth open waiting to catch flies. "Your room is-"
Marceline left the room and her suitcase. And any amount of dignity she had before entering that damned room. Perhaps she could get a different room away from the devil incarnate, or maybe she'd sleep in the student kitchen, amongst the dead plants and already dirty plates that piled high in the sink. Maybe she'd just use the hustle and bustle of the semi crowded corridor, filled now with sweaty students trying to find their rooms, to find a different room mate. She would've done, if she hadn't have left her damn case. Now onto plan D, Marceline slunk down the corridor to where it was most busiest, not putting too much thought into what Bonnibel might be doing with her things. The stop in human traffic seemed to be caused by two boys, a mini snooker table, and a door that was just a size smaller than what they needed. One of the boys closest to Marceline was sweating profusely, probably because it was august and the summer heat was persistently trying to reach new heights every day, but Marceline would also put into account the throngs of panicking students trying to shove themselves between the boy and the wall to get to their rooms.
"Finn, we need to fold the legs in," The boy said through haggard breaths, turning the table the opposite way to the blonde on the other end. Marceline couldn't help the smirk that took over her at the spectacle in front of her. Sweaty boy released his grip on the table legs, resulting in a clatter and a hearty laugh from someone nearby. "Finn,"
Finn glanced up at Sweaty Boy, red faced and still trying to pull on the legs in a futile attempt to get the too big mini pool table through the too small regular door frame. "Are you suggesting we fold them in now or do you want to carry this back out of the building with me?" There was a pause before Sweaty Boy nodded. "Why'd you even take this from her, dude?"
Sweaty Boy dived into a story about how his girlfriend had no space in her new room, and that he'd already helped set it up for her, and Marceline's smirk widened when they began to lift the table back up and shuffle it down the hall. There were a few disgusted looks thrown their way by the numerous students who had been stuck at one end of the hallway. For some reason, Marceline decided to take a leg and help them carry it out of a nearby fire escape and into the parking lot.
"Who allowed it to be so damn hot?" Finn whined, squinting back into the sunlight as he backed up for the table to be set down, his mop of golden blonde hair sticking to his forehead.
"Pretty sure that's global warming," Marceline muttered around a chuckle. The two boys looked over at her for the first time in the five minute moving of the table. She took Finn's smile as a thanks. "Marceline," She greeted with the same smirk as before.
They introduced themselves as brothers, Finn and Jake Mertens, eighteen and nineteen years old respectively. For the life of her Marceline couldn't figure out how they were related; Finn was slender and tanned, blue eyed and blonde, whereas Jake was on the heavier side, paler than his brother and had dirty brown hair and brown eyes. Maybe their parents were polar opposites appearance wise.
"You're a freshman too, then?" Finn asked her as they began to figure out how to put the legs down so they'd have a better time moving it into the room. Marceline kept telling herself that the only reason she was helping them was because it was either that or going back to Room 13E to meet her worst nightmare.
(It definitely wasn't because they were already growing on her).
So Marceline began to tell them that yes, she was a freshman, nineteen years old and was a music major. She learned that Jake played viola in his spare time and that Finn could beat box pretty well, although he went an incredible shade of red when Marceline asked for an example.
With the last leg folded down against the underside of the table, Marceline helped them carry it back through the fire escape and into the less crowded, but still hectic, corridor. Marceline took it upon herself to hold the door open for them, snickering when Finn knocked a corner into the door frame and Jake berated him for damaging his girlfriend's pool table.
"Thanks, man." Jake muttered when the table had been propped against the couch in their room. "If you need help with anything in the future just let us know. Couple of buff boys will help out," Marceline laughed when the brothers began flexing their biceps in jest, and left their room with a friendly wave and a smile.
The only productive thing Marceline could think to do was go back into Room 13E and demand Bonnibel leave until she was finished packing her things away (read: never). To her pleasant surprise, however, the room was empty when she entered their shared space. Maybe Marceline's luck was finally taking a turn.
Coffee. Marceline had spent the last two hours inside, in the heat, putting her belongings away in the empty room that the She Devil had left untouched for her. Her bed was made, the TV and console was set up, and even her guitar was plugged into an amp that she'd lugged along with her. It was almost eerie how Bonnibel hadn't come back within the two hour period to ruin Marceline's day and have her jump from the window, which was absolutely a doable escape route because the only thing blocking her window was a bush that was definitely going to be trampled down by the time Marceline was done with it. She needed coffee in her system, something sugary, absolutely anything to keep her going on the four hours sleep she'd had pulled up near a gas station in her tiny red car.
And anyway; worst case scenario was that Bonnibel was at the only tiny coffee shop that offered student discounts in a hundred mile radius of the college. What were the chances of walking in and seeing Bonnibel stood behind the counter, anyway? About a million to one, Marceline reckoned.
It was the hair that gave her away. Tucked into a messy ponytail beneath a little green visor that advertised the coffee shops very unoriginal logo of a coffee bean. Bonnibel just had to be the barista, naturally. Yes, Marceline was regretting buying that damned guitar amongst other things.
"Let me guess, black coffee and a strawberry tart?" The condescending tone of Bonnibel's voice sent an icy chill down Marceline's spine. Bonnibel knew Marceline's order like the back of her hand, after all these years, and she just had to say it as if Marceline had kicked her somewhere unpleasant.
"You guessed correctly," Marceline responded drolly, fighting hard to not roll her eyes as she dug around in her pockets for the change. "You want a trophy or something? You were always up your arse about those," Biting back that comment deemed harder than the eye roll, which she opted to add in when she saw Bonnibel's frown deepen.
"That's five ninety," Bonnibel said after a moment of pressing the buttons on the cash register, eyeing Marceline around an unamused glare.
Marceline's eyebrows shot up. "Student discount," She half flailed once more, jabbing her thumb over to the window where she'd read a sign saying that they absolutely did student discounts.
Bonnibel's frown vanished in turn for a sweet smile. Marceline wanted to punch it off her. "I have the right to deny discounts to any and all customers that rub me the wrong way. Take your overpriced coffee and tart and leave."
Throwing the change down on the counter might have been a tad too dramatic even for Marceline. But god did it feel so good knowing Bonnibel had to scramble around on the floor for that stray coin that fell to the floor. Marceline walked away from the counter with a smirk on her lips that she was sure wasn't going to leave any time soon.
She took a window seat, well enough away from Bonnibel so that she wasn't at the forefront of her mind, but not so far that she couldn't see the younger woman in that dumb uniform smiling to random customers and being hit on by every other male customer. For some reason, seeing Bonnibel uncomfortable and squirming behind that counter made feel Marceline warmer than the coffee ever could.
Suddenly, the worst case scenario didn't seem so bad.