30 Seconds

It all took Marceline 30 seconds to answer a question that's being thrown at her by a pink haired woman.

"Excuse me," she started as she stood on tiptoes, hands behind her back, blinking at the woman before her who was wearing a red flannel over a grey tank top, denim jeans and a pair of red sneakers.

"Yes?" Marceline asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman before her, the woman's pink hair has been tied to a bun, yellow dress with white collar over a white cardigan, and white shoes—her eyeglasses were perched up as she stared at her green orbs.

The pink woman stood on her ground and gulped before speaking, "Are you gay?"

Marceline blinked, trying to process the question, Are you gay? She stood there in utter shock (she just came out and she's obviously flustered at the question, is she really the obvious?!)

It took Marceline 30 seconds to answer that particular question; the woman was still staring at her, expecting an answer.

"Yes," she breathed, managing to utter the word that made the pink haired woman squirm, looking back at her and grinned.

"Great! Because all my gay friends own that exact same shirt and I wanted to test my theory," she took a step back and tilted her head, hands still on her back while her other feet was on a tip toe, "I also find you cute—which is why I wanted to ask, if I'm not a bother," her eyes glanced past her shoulder and then back to her, "Would you like some coffee after this?"

Marceline couldn't help but feel odd—odd in a good way at what the pink haired beauty had said. At first she felt sad that she was just some of an experiment but after the compliment and the offer—everything changed and she nodded, "Course, I would. Can you wait though? I have to ditch my friends," she thumbed a group of people who were in a booth—they were looking at them and quickly looked away when they saw Marceline pointing.

"The same goes for me," she looked behind her back and saw her friends high-fiving at each other—her best friend, Lady—waved at them and made a 'scissoring' hand gesture, the pink haired woman croaked in embarrassment as Marceline chuckled.

"Oh my god!" she puts both of her hands on her face, as Marceline continue chuckling, filling her glass with beer. They were at the refilling station of drinks at the restaurant that they were in.

"Hey, it's cool," she smiled at the pink haired woman who removed her hands on her face and huffed, "My friends never fails to embarrass me," she pouted, filling her glass with strawberry juice.

Marceline bobbed her head, "I'm Marceline," she smirked at the woman who smiled sweetly, she looked beautiful—majestic, her beauty speaks of so many words that Marceline couldn't tell if she was a living princess or not.

"Bonnibel, Bonnibel Bubblegum," she offered her hand, which Marceline in turn, shook—the hand was smooth, long, fragile, and very warm—unlike hers which was long, bony, with veins protruding, and cold.

"Do you want me to come to your table?" Marceline asked—Bonnibel blinked, "How about your friends?"

Marceline looked back at them who were now packing up, "We were just done eating- they probably paid already," she shook her head, "Or do you want me to wait at the coffee shop just outside?"

Bonnibel was about to answer when her Korean friend appeared from her back, "We would love to have you in our table!"

Bonnibel jumped and glared at her friend whose arm was now around hers, "I'm Lady Han, a friend of Bonnibel's," she offered her hand which Marceline shook, "I saw your friends are about to leave—you can sit with us," she winked as she took Bonnibel's drink and walked back to their table.

"Oh my god," she groaned, Marceline laughed, "Your friend is cool."

"Yo, Marcy," an afrohead woman smirked at her friend as she gave her a black coat, "Didn't know that you had a date," she teased, Marceline blushed and was about to retaliate when a shaggy haired guy chuckled, "Always getting the nice girls—leave some for the straight guys!" he laughed as Keila rolled her eyes at him, "Sorry about him," she looked at Bonnie, "He's just bitter that he couldn't get an ask from a pretty girl like you," she then looked at Marceline, "And you, I want details!"

With that they strutted out the restaurant, Marceline sighed, "Sorry for my friends—they couldn't control whatever that comes out of their mouth."

Bonnibel nodded, "I'm pretty sure mine's just as crazy, shall we?"

Marceline blinked—she wasn't sure what or how she managed to say yes to this pink haired woman but one thing is for sure.

She didn't regret any of it.

Best 30 seconds of her life, so far.