two hearts; one soul

"How did you do it, Bonnie?" asks Marceline, head down to face the rectangular patch of dirt right in front of her. Her eyes are bloodshot, the tip of her nose red, and her lips as dry as her throat. She keeps her voice from cracking, but she knows that a sudden wave of nostalgia and regret will surely push her to break down again. She's hanging on a thin thread, contemplating whether or not to climb or let it break. Everything around her feels so fragile and fake, carefully closing in on her so that she can suffocate in the madness of it all. She speaks again, momentarily feeling a wave of sadness, before saying, "How did you overcome this... feeling?"

"I didn't," Bonnibel replies from her side, eyes straight and posture poised. She's not looking at Marceline, but it's not like she's looking at the scenery either. Her eyes are glassy and blank and it takes everything in Marceline not to cry out. "I learned to live with it."

"So we don't get better?" Marceline bites bitterly, already feeling a new round of tears pooling behind her eyes. Her heart hurts, beating in a tremble and slowly cracking until it's completely and truly gone.

Bonnibel does not reply.

The dark-haired girl scoffs, blinking aggressively to will the tears away, "This is stupid. Why can't—unfair—why is—why are we—fuck!"

The last part strikes her harshly and she's crumbling, falling, and disappearing. The tears finally flow out and she feels the grass against her legs, sharply stroking her skin. She wants to dig her nails against her skin, grip her heart tight enough so it bursts, or even pull every single emotion and thought out o her mind and burn it to the fucking ground.

Bonnibel clasps a cold hand on Marceline's bare shoulder and it sends a shiver on her spine. Marceline can only think of those hands: touching and stroking and caressing. She remembers how her skin burned so brightly with every touch and how her body moved against the rhythm as those same hands go lower, lower, lower.

But the voice that cuts through her thoughts is beyond warm and familiar, "Life is cruel, Marcy; don't be so naïve."

"I know," Marceline whispers, "I fucking know, Bonnie."

"So be strong," the bubbly pink haired girl fiercely says. Marceline looks up and the blank eyes are no more: it's replaced by fire and urgency, strength and wisdom. It causes the dark haired girl's breath to hitch and their dark eyes collide, and the air crackles with electricity and affection. Bonnibel continues with eyes straight and lips narrow, "Face life's cruelties and move along."

Marceline exhales, nodding along at the advice because it's Bonnibel, and she has always been so true and smart and so supportive that it makes Marceline's heart aflame with such sincerity and fondness. Bonnibel has always been her world, her rock, her universe—where she knows everything is all right and will be all right.

Without any words spoken between them, Bonnibel wraps her arms around Marceline, kneeling on the grass as well. Marceline melts against the touch as she sobs and cries and tears, while Bonnibel simply holds her tightly, quietly, surely.

"Thank you, thank you," Marceline whispers against Bonnibel's shirt, gripping on her as if it's the last thing she'll ever witness.

"It will be okay…" Bonnibel whispers in the meantime against Marceline's hair. She strokes the dark-haired girl's back, drawing circles and soft shapes, trying to prevent the heart inside from cracking into smithereens.

It's everything to them; this small moment in the cemetery, winds breezing through and the trees overlooking. The slab of concrete on the patch of dirt seems as if it's from another world now, and Marceline looks at it with carefulness and not with bitterness anymore.

"She sang me a song when I was a kid… it was beautiful," Marceline mumbles, still leaning against Bonnibel's arms.

"Yeah? Will you sing it?"

"I'll do anything for you, Bonnie."

So she does. Marceline's voice is barely working, but she manages to sing through her raspy voice and teary eyes. The same tune that's comfort in her ears and home in her heart captures everyone listening, awed at how divine Marceline's voice is even after being through so much.

Let's go in the garden
You'll find something waiting
Right there where you left it
Lying upside—

Her voice finally gives up at the last part.

"It's beautiful," Bonnibel compliments with twinkling eyes and a soft grin. "Just like her."

"You're beautiful," Marceline snickers, finally smiling through all these grief.

Bonnibel chuckles.

"Your mother would be so proud of what you've become."

"I know."

end