25.03.16.

Hello Readers!

FIRST, YES THIS IS CONTINUING! It says In-Progress for a reason, you guys!

SEcond, I have made some changes to this chapter, because I wasn't happy with the end bit. It won't affect the second chapter any, but I would advise reading this chapter over if you find yourself a little confused in further chapters. I'm going to try and update this weekly, and the chapters may be cut into smaller bits, but if I DO do that, it is only telling of my determination to do this weekly.

Thank you so much for the reviews, I didn't expect to get any, to be honest. I love hearing feedback, and if you find I have anything to touch up on, please feel free to tell me so!

Also, check me out on tumblr at the username hyuntokki for original and fan art of all kinds!

Yours on the other side of a screen,
Hyun토끼.

CHAPTER 1

The water streams down on top of me, and I'm lost in a daze. I've tried to figure it out a hundred times but I can't. I don't know how this happened, and I don't know how to end it. I rub my face beneath the water until I'm forced to open my mouth to breathe. I hear myself sob.

Oh.

I didn't realise I'd been crying. Pain does that to you, I guess. You don't feel things the same anymore.

The sobs are becoming more frequent, and it's not just the water that's making it hard to breathe now.

This morning, I woke, washed up, put on a pair of thick denim overalls and a tank top, and packed my welding gear. I still had half my sculpture to piece together, so I figured I'd take all of Saturday (today) to do it. When I got to the studio hall, she was waiting at the door. Before, I would have been absolutely macked to see her, she's my best friend. Now, my body aches and my chest feels like it's decompressing. It's a real trip from where I was, and let me tell you, it's not the kind of trip you get to pick yourself up from.

"Marce -"

I walked straight past her, not even giving her a second glance. I was afraid if I looked her in the eyes I'd say something stupid, or even worse, show her something stupid, because that's what this is. Just plain stupid.

"Marceline!"

She ran to catch up to me and I still wouldn't look at her. She grabbed my arm, and even without thinking about it, I stopped. She was touching me.

"I demand to know why you're avoiding me -" Even as much as it hurt to avoid her, I couldn't help but want to smile. Typical Princess, "-did I do something? What did I do?"

I could hear it in her voice, how tired she was. She probably didn't sleep very much. Her showcase was in a few hours, of course she didn't sleep. In the three years I'd known her, not once did she sleep before a showcase. Nerves and all that. And I was contributing to it, because I was her friend, and I was avoiding her, without telling her why. Some kind of shit friend I am.

"What is WRONG?" When I didn't answer, she gripped me tighter, and shook my arm. It felt nice to be around her again, but this wasn't good for my self control, so I pried her off and continued walking.

"I have to finish my sculpture."

She stayed standing there, and for a while I thought she'd stop chasing me, but I could hear her steps behind me. I groaned inwardly. Why was she so stubborn?

Come on Princess, leave me alone.

I got to my sculpture and started to get my welding gear on. Her steps were getting heavier. She was angry. I turned to see her fast pacing towards a piece of metal I'd thrown to the ground the other day, frustrated because it had cut me.

"Princes-" I tried to tell her to be careful, but she wasn't listening.

"DON'T call me that! You don't get to call me that anymore, not if you keep refusing to talk to me! If you're not going to tell me what's wrong I'm going to follow you around until you..!"

The closer she got, the more I was afraid she'd get hurt. I strode over to her before she could trip on the metal piece, and pulled her away by the wrist. Suddenly, my fear turned tight and conflicted.

"Bonnibel, you could've gotten hurt! How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going! Am I more important to you than your own body? THINK a little!" I looked over her to make sure she was okay, even though I knew she was, I had to check. I'd scared her, that was for sure. I hadn't ever yelled at her before, not for anything... because I'd always been around to make sure she didn't get into scrapes she couldn't heal.

She stayed silent, her arm limp in my hand. Why was she so still? Worried, I looked from over her body into her eyes. My heart dropped. I could see the way she was looking at me change, from frightened and shocked, to one that was searching. Her stillness infected me and I was stuck where I was, stuck showing her everything I had hidden from her. Then it clicked, and she saw what I had been so desperate to keep from her. She saw the pain I'd been suppressing. She saw what the whole of my body was saying, had been saying for months.

I love you. I love you.

Her mouth opened to speak, and I let go of her wrist. She stopped. Instead of saying anything, as soon as my eyes dropped from hers, she reached her hand out to me.

Don't..

This had been our peace offering from the moment we met. This was her way of saying 'talk to me'.

I didn't take it, I couldn't take it. Instead, I slowly shuffled a step away from her; my feet were not willing, but my mind reasoned that it was for her good. Her hand slowly dropped to her side, and with every inch it went down my heart clenched just a little tighter in my chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with a pastel, hipster princess. She wasn't even in the plan. The plan was to come to this school, stay isolated, complete the program, and find a place for myself in the world where I could belong but stay in isolation, at the same time. That was the plan.

I moved farther from her, concerning myself only with the pieces of metal scattered around the floor. One by one, I started picking them up. I cursed at myself for having put them there in the first place. Why hadn't I had more control over my temper.

Ah.

Because of her. Because avoiding her calls and walking in different paths to get to class every morning had been so taxing, so ironically suffocating, that I had let it all out on my sculpture. I wouldn't have had to come in today if I had not torn these pieces off the sculpture. But what else could I do? What could I do?

I placed the pieces on my work table and headed towards the lounge. I needed a shower. A cold one. I had sliced my palm open as I was picking up the pieces.

Goddamn, it hurts.