To win the trust of a wild animal took time and patience, temptation. How many centuries had it been? And yet, here they were, sitting a chasm-like foot apart, Bubblegum resting against the gnarled trunk of a tree probably several years her junior, eyes fixed resolutely on the pages of some indecipherable work. Marceline lazed nearby, running her well-calloused fingers over the neck of her instrument, like a lover. She liked to think of herself as the beast in this analogy, but it was more likely Princess Bubblegum. She doubted the princess would note her absence, should their deep rooted routine be broken.
Marceline allowed her gaze to wander to the princess. Bubblegum was a true work of art. Her fingernails, teeth, and the whites of her eyes were slightly translucent, and sparkled like a light shone through a ribbon of sugar. The irises fixed in her surreal eyes were the deepest violet, framed by delicate pale eyelashes, giving her an immensely wise and penetrating gaze, the color so deep and rich and ancient it probably inspired the name. Her gauzy bubblegum hair waved ever so gently in the breeze, its own entity. The princess was ethereal, and made Marceline feel lowly. She was, after all, the basest of creatures- a human being!- made baser by demonic seed. "Glob" breathed Marceline, feeling disgusted and light-headed.
The sentiment received the thinnest of glances from Bonnibel, who returned to her book immediately, but folded one delicate hand into her knapsack, pulling out a desperately ripe strawberry the color of blood. This she offered to the vampire, who pretended to study it carefully, watching the red slip from the fruit down the graceful arc of the princess's fingers into the chalice of her palm. After a suitable delay, Bubblegum primly shut her book with a dry cough, gracing Marceline with her all-encompassing gaze. "You are not hungry?" Bonnibel inquired, raising one eyebrow. "Your expression would suggest otherwise."
Marceline stiffened slightly- Bonnibel was always dictating her state of being with 'observations', a habit she found unbearable. The vampire reached out her hand, as cold and relentless as a diamond, and snatched Bubblegum's wrist before she had a spare moment to regret the rash motion. She didn't think she had ever dared brush Bubblegum's tender pink flesh in all the years she had known her. The princess's expression never wavered. "I don't want that" Marceline said, coming off less blasé than she had planned to deliver, a sharp intake of breath beheading the last syllable and betraying her anxiety. She plucked the strawberry from the cradle of Bonnibel's fingers, tossing it away to streak the soil with its burst of juices.
Still no reaction- Marceline slithered up the skirt of Bonnibel's dress predatorily, inclining her head to lap at the juices pooling in the princess's hand. She took her time, trailing up and down each finger, drawing a filigree with the fine tip of her long and nubile tongue. Bubblegum's hand was as rosy and slender as the rest of her, and her palm was without blemish. There were no lines to dictate her fate- she would be without true love, bear no children, live on forever in the beautiful lacquered prison of her skin. Marceline wavered, withdrawing her tongue, entranced by the surreal nature of Bonnibel's animate candy flesh. "What are you?" she wondered aloud, slowly raising her gaze to return to the other woman's features.
Bubblegum's prim mask struggled against what looked like a slow bleed of indignation and something inexplicable that seemed, to Marceline anyway, to fall within the spectrum of a begrudging lust. Maybe it was wishful thinking. The delicate curves of the princess's cheeks were stained an almost nuclear red, despite the valiant struggle of her regal bearing. Delicious.
"This is quite improper" Bubblegum droned imperiously, after a breathless moment of recovery. Marceline could see the force of her heartbeat at the divot in her throat. "I expect a degree of decorum as a princess-"
"Oh stuff it, you wad!" Marceline spat, surging into the air with a storm on her face and electrified hair. Bubblegum caught one crackling strand, soothing it around her finger with resolve.
"Marceline", she sighed. "Court me."