Like Silk and Razorblades
Summary: "She looked empty, ill, broken. She's obviously hurting, despite her condition." / Mabel tries to cope with a life-threatening illness. Who knew that the antitode was unconditional love. Contains Pinecest, and angst.
She stood in the threshold, the dim light radiating in from the hallway outlining her fragile silhouette. Her sickly, delicate frame. With the long, silken curls gliding down her back made her distinguish the slight features of a goddess-like figure. But the pallid color of her skin compared her to a moaning ghost.
Dipper glanced up from the yellowing pages of his volume 3 journal upon hearing her agile footsteps. He closed the book and set it on the kitchen table, his eyes genuinely fixed on her small shape lingering in the doorway.
"Mabel, what are you doing up?" he demanded, though his voice was as velvety as satin. "You're sick, you're supposed to be in bed."
He saw her glimpse down at her worn fingernails from nimble chewing and fiddle with her thin fingers, and move them downwards until they clung to the hem of her purple nightgown. She paused hesitantly before speaking.
"Can't sleep."
Between her two unveiling words, she released a few hacking coughs, exposing her stricken illness and wracking her slim physique.
Dipper felt sympathy well in his stomach, and he motioned for his sister to come closer. She obeyed reluctantly, but every light step appeared like it sent sharp knives jabbing into her skin.
When she neared, and the musty light of the kitchen swelled around her, Dipper almost unleashed a surprised squeak. His heart faltered and plummeted into the pit of his stomach.
Her skin was gauntly ashen, and when he reached out to gently touch her cheek he could feel the hot spark between it and his fingertip. Dark pools were stilled beneath her glazed eyes, and her cheeks sunken, cheekbones protruding beneath the pasty expanse of her skin. Flocculent, chocolate curls seemed to be disarranged by an intangible hand.
"Mabel..."
"I know."
Her voice crackled beneath the hefty burden of a repulsive high fever. The eyes concealed by tangled bangs searched, and found, her brother's own coffee-colored orbs and blinked back tears prying to flow.
Dipper carefully pushed the hair away from her face, studying her hollowed features with steady precision. "Come on, I'll take you up to bed."
He quietly, softly, grasped her petite, pale hand, carefully grazing her skin with his thumb, feeling the spindly bones beneath. Hot blood boiling in his veins, he led her cautiously up the stairs and into their shared room. It smelled strongly of vomit and illness, but he forced himself not to gag in front of her.
Dipper watched as the steadily traipsed to her bed before crawling underneath the covers, isolating her from the world. The blankets, the only thing keeping the twins apart.
Analyzed her facial features from her spot on the shabby carpeting, he noticed that she looked empty, ill, broken. It seemed like secrets laced in tandem with her bones and trembled beneath the pallor of her skin.
But, a tiny smile twitched his lips upwards, seeing how fragile and beautiful she looked. And he never wanted to lose her.
He crossed the carpet and made himself comfortable on the edge of her bed. Gingerly reaching out, his warm fingers met the scorching temperature of her cheek, and he soothingly caressed the skin with smooth, tiny circles retreating on the expanse of the boiling vellum. He saw her eyelids flutter as she fought between the barriers of consciousness and sleep.
He whispered softly to her ear, trying to make her fall asleep, but she kept awake.
"Shh, Mabel. Don't be afraid to go to sleep."
"I can't."
Dipper's face contorted into gentle puzzlement. "And why's that?"
"Because I want to stay awake with you."
Dipper felt a delighted grin poke at the corners of his lips. "Okay."
Then, Mabel Pines smiled. The first smile anyone's seen on that gorgeous face of her's ever since she's been first ill. It was a smile that dazzled Dipper's eyes, a smile that made his mind grow hazy and dazed. A full-on, silver-lined, toothy grin that seemed to make the whole night light up.
Dipper felt quiet tears prod at the back of his eyes, and it wasn't long before a few glistening drops dribbled down his cheeks. They were happy tears, and he knew Mabel would get better. She did have many near dates with death beforehand, and Dipper was relieved that tonight wasn't one of them.
He leant down to embrace her, and her sweltering skin felt pleasurable against his own, sparks crackling and thriving at the sudden gratifying contact. He felt like her outer shell, as he lay on top of her, willing to protect her from anything that could harm her, gripping onto her nightgown as if a sudden bloodstained hurricane would swirl her in the air and consume her well being, never to be seen again. He winced at the thought of Mabel leaving. Retreating him, retreating the town, his careful embrace. Leaving the world.
He raised his head to gaze deep into her glassy eyes, their noses inches apart, and her solid breath rustling his auburn bangs. Silence hung in the air like thick fog, preventing the noise of tongue; the two were at a loss for words as they swam in each other's depths, circling, tranquilizing the other with the power of a scorching, loving gaze. Static buzzed in the miniscule gap between their faces.
That static soon vanquished as Dipper pressed his forehead to hers, his placid breath stirring the tiny hairs on her skin. The iron curtain of silence still clung to their tongues and flushed down their throats, as the two kept staring at each other; the only sounds eliciting from them were their waning breaths.
Then, there was a vague, croaking sound. It was quiet, and bated, but it was there.
"I love you."
Dipper blinked. Those three words flushed through his ears and coiled around his brain. Invisible strings upturned the corners of his mouth, evoking a broad smile plastered to his face. His sister warily smiled back.
"How much do you love me?"
"More than you can imagine."
And, on the last word, Mabel cupped his jaw in her hands and pulled his mouth gently towards hers.
Dipper's eyes widened for a split-second as their lips crashed together, then slid shut, one hand curling onto the duvet to anchor himself while the other made their way to his sister's head, grasping handfuls of silky, brunette locks and twirling them between his fingers.
Mabel's lips felt soft and feverish against his, but the feeling he was getting was hot, wondrous bliss, and he began to run his hands up-down- all over her flocculent skin, and leaving trails of inferno in their wake. Dipper's body temperature flared, caught on fire by licks and blazes of flame, and a tingling sensation crept through his body like long electric fingers, as his mouth moved soothingly on hers.
Eventually, they had to surface for air, both of their bodies intoxicated by the other's tender touch, their cheeks flushed the palest pink. Their hot breaths came out in short, dwindling pants.
"M...Mabel..."
As her feverish mind unclouded itself in a starry daze, she abruptly realized what had happened. Her glossy eyes widened, and she brought a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Dipper. Now you're going to get sick!"
Dipper chuckled softly, and the noise that radiated from the base of his throat held meaning, understanding, and unconditional love. He leant down to capture her lips, again, in another loving, tender embrace.
"I don't care," Dipper murmured in a small voice when he broke from her lips. But his voice held all the meaning in the world. "As long as I'm in your arms."
A/N: Cutest thing I've probably written for Gravity Falls. I'm very proud of it, I think it came out well. However, I hope you all enjoyed. Don't forget to drop a review. For my insecure-writing-troubles!