When Marco came back, one of his long arms were wrapped around a medium-sized stack of movies ranging from action to horror. It was not intended to freak her out or make her jump in the couch to hug him because he already knew Star wasn't that kind of girl. Knowing her, she would gasp and her blue eyes will be filled with wonder even though the characters start gutting each other. And being a teenager also meant that you're more afraid of yourself than you are of anything. The horror movies was going to be ironic, because it'll be like belittling the horror they felt about themselves and the myriad of confusing teenaged emotions they had. At the foot of the stairs, he peered into the living room to see Star sitting with her legs still tucked against her chest. The sweat on her forehead had slowly dried and the sour look on her face when she took the pill had melted into an enthusiastic grin, if not, slightly a little unnerved for some reason. He didn't even know those two emotions could mix in one facial expression but trust Star to make something out of nothing.
He had moved the table back on its feet and shook the cement powder on top. Placing it back again in the middle of the living room carpet, it stood up relatively unscathed, with only light indentations in the wooden frame. He put down the movie stack onto the surface and began scanning his picks.
"So.. Mackie Hand or.. Some horror. What are you up for, Star?" He asked her, without looking. His eyes and hands were preoccupied with the task of picking out a film to watch but Star remained silent. Thinking she was just pondering her options, he went on.
"We could play one action and one horror and alternate between each other until our eyes tire from the marathon or until we clean up the fridge," he chuckled, rearranging another stack of CDs on the other side of the table in alternating fashion. Marco looked up and jumped back at what he saw.
"So maybe Mewberty and human fever go well together in the worse way, don't you think?" She said sheepishly, scratching at her shoulders. She had lowered down a sleeve to show him her porcelain skin peppered with purple hearts. He hadn't noticed it earlier while he was bounding the stairs—donning jeans—in excitement but now that he did, his mind raced with thoughts of deep plum skin and glowing eyes and the picture had him gulping.
"You're not going to turn purple and wreak havoc again, are you?"
"No, no! See, the indicators are the eyes. See," she blinked her left eye wide open, "not glowing. It's totally fine!"
He couldn't help it. He walked across the living room with three long strides so that he was beside her as he sat down the sofa. But when his hands were about to reach her forehead to check on her temperature again, the realization hit him like a truck.
"T-this is because I touched you, isn't it?"
Star shrugged her shoulders once. Twice. Thrice, followed by a mumbled triptych of, "Kinda? Sorta? Yes?"
The blush that crept on Marco's face heated his body like wildfire. Star panicked when she saw the change in his face and waved her hands frantically in front of him.
"Don't worry, Marco! This is normal! Normal, see?" She took his hand again and pressed his forefinger against her lower arm. Where the tip of his finger met her warm skin, a tiny heart popped out and soon after, a bunch of its other friends joined the party.
"Normal," she said again, reaching out to rub the top of his head. His worry stayed, but Star was getting flustered at trying to keep him from freaking out. Where her hand touched his head, more purple hearts resurfaced. Star gurgled out a dissatisfied groan and slammed her face back on the couch seat, inches away from his thigh.
"I hate Mewberty! It makes everything awkward and sweaty! Rrgh!"
Suddenly, Marco felt like laughing in spite of the situation. It was nice to know his sentiments weren't his alone. He still worried, though, if the next time he touched her, the purpled hearts would fan out and cover her whole body and light her up like a crystal from the inside. So he decided to scoot as decently away from her as possible. Star struggled not to show how hurt that physical distancing made her feel, but Marco knew her well enough to see it in her face no matter how hard she tried to hide it. After a beat, he inched a little closer, careful not to brush her skin.
"I just.. Don't want you to go all weird like that. For your sake. You're sick, Star, and being hit by the Mewberty truck while you are makes you twice as vulnerable," he said, explaining it to her as gently as he could. He wanted to touch her so bad, wanted to hug her and show her physically that he was sorry for what he did. But he knew doing that would make stuff worse, and so his decision had been to just wait patiently for her reaction.
Star sat up seconds later and dropped her legs onto the carpet. Her face went from a frustrated attempt to hide pain, to a mild shift in the happy zone, her lips quivering just the slightest when she tried to smile again. To no avail. She just sighed and contented herself with burying her face on Marco's chest. Marco gasped in surprise and heard a chorus of purple hearts popping up on her skin. He stopped breathing, and with herculean effort, tried so hard not to touch her arms.
"Marco," she whimpered out his name, her hands finding the fabric of his white tee, "I don't know what's happening to me."
Confused, he mumbled motionless, "You've got a.. Fever.. Star.."
"I know, Marco, you've pointed that out hours ago," she replied, her lips moving against his tee. Marco inhaled sharply through the nose.
"T-then.. What's wrong?"
"I don't get it, Marco.."
"Don't get what..?"
"I like Oskar.."
Marco's eyes darted curiously on top of her head as he felt her arm move slightly to peel off a few of the hearts that had scattered all over her face. She exhaled forcefully against his chest and Marco felt every muscle in his body convulse. Keep it together, man.
"But sometimes, when I see him, I can't seem to feel.. Anything."
Marco tried not to choke on his sentence, "W-well, that's natural, Star. You don't n-need to think about the person you like all the time."
Star finally looked up, then, and in that moment their eyes locked. Even through the purpley stack of hearts on her face, she radiated a red glow of something between the cusp of embarrassment and unabashed curiosity.
"But, you think about Jackie all the time.."
Marco gulped. And in the silence that made his heart race, his breath hitched at the innocence painted on her face. She had always looked innocent. Always. And he felt like a mean old pervert for feeling like he could take advantage of that. He'd been feeling impulsive ever since he learnt about the fever, having thoughts here and there of inappropriate things and it made his gut twist with guilt.
"N-not.. Anymore," his voice was gradually dropping to a whisper and internally, he debated between himself about whether he should tell her or not. He decided to do so, no matter how awkward that might make the situation afterwards, but he would word it as vaguely and as murky as he could.
"I don't.. Think about Jackie all the time.. Anymore.."
Marco would thrash and throw and scream inside his head but on the outside, he felt small and unsure under Star's intent gaze. He knew it was not meant to seduce him or try to lure him out and bait him to do something. She would never do something like that. But it was there, the urge to touch and feel and... not just sit stock still and wait with bated breath. The more he thought about this, the more he wanted to slam himself on the fractured wall.
"Who.. Do you think about?"
Star didn't know why it should matter, whoever she was, she would be a great girl like Jackie was, but hearing about Marco not thinking about Jackie was surreal and very un-Marco. Marco wished she never asked the question.
"It's-ah.. Y-you don't know her, Star," he squeaked, scratching the back of his nape and finally deciding to back against the couch. He felt the arm of the couch hit his back softly and wished they had a longer sofa.
"All the better. I can keep it a secret."
There was nothing in her eyes that told him that she was trying to seduce him. All he was seeing was Star and her relentless curiosity about everything that intrigued her. He was just unfortunate to be in the line of fire.
"Star, l-let's just get some nachos, huh?" He offered, shrugging his shoulders weakly.
"Oh, yeah," she relented, slowly crawling back away from him on all fours, "Nachos."
"I-I'll go make some Nachos now."
Marco felt like dipping his face into a pot of boiling oil. Or maybe dumping himself entirely inside it and feeling his skin burn and sear to the bone. It would have been far less nerve-wracking than the experience he had earlier. With a distressed sigh, he buried his face in his palms and took a shuddering breath, "Oh, Star.."
His feet wanted to take him back to the living room and his whole system wanted to be looking at her again. Into her adorably blue eyes, touching her long, golden hair, and inhaling her sweaty strawberry scent. He wanted to throw himself out there again and put himself in trouble. But he knew he wouldn't. Couldn't. Star deserved more than a guy who couldn't seem to understand his own feelings.
With another heavy sigh, he pushed on with nacho-duty and buried thoughts of Star's unbearable attractiveness in the deep recesses of his mind, readying himself to go back out there again.
—
He came to the living room with a pile of nachos smothered in warm, decadent cheese and saw Star with her back firmly to the couch seat and her legs slung over the backrest. Her head was hanging off the edge, with her thick golden hair splayed out on the carpet and her blue eyes were scanning him carefully. The embarrassment in the air had lifted, he no longer felt weird and Star, well, she seemed like she was back to normal again. With a smile, he wordlessly placed the plate on the table, "Voila."
"Ooooh!" Star squealed, immediately spinning to her side with her right flank squishing softly against the couch. She reached an arm out and took a nacho in her mouth, the cheese dribbling down the side of her lips. Awkwardly, with all his long limbs, he scrambled down onto the carpet and crossed his legs. He picked up an action movie and pushed it into the player without asking Star. She'd like it anyway. Shaking his head, albeit, only internally, he walked cautiously over back to the couch and sat beside her. She had been crunching away on the nachos now, the events of the earlier encounter gone in her system.
Towards the end, Marco and Star became comfortable with each other once more, exchanging jokes, facts, cultural differences, feelings (those that can be better explained) and more information about her fever. The more they talked, the more absurd Marco started to feel like when he had been previously watching her like a hawk and pining for her like a thirsty maniac.
During the next horror movie, (which Star really did like, as he predicted) Star felt cold and shivered. And Marco flew up the staircase like a cyclone and came back only seconds later holding a fleece blanket over her. He had almost forgotten to fetch it for her when he got carried away with the movie selection and the back and forth of his emotions over nacho-duty. It was the blanket his mother had bought especially for her. There were all sorts of things Star liked printed on that blanket—unicorns, rainbows, bunnies, narwhals, the color pink, stars, hearts, swords, everything—and his mother had gifted it to her on her second month anniversary of her stay in Earth. Expertly, he draped it over her body like a barber draped his customers in something somewhat similar. Star was more than pleased at the gesture and buried herself deep inside the soft rub of the fabric against her skin. The blanket had smelt of sweet flowers, enveloping her, and suddenly, the show was forgotten.
Marco laughed as she squealed and squirmed like an excited puppy inside the blanket. A few more minutes into the movie, the male lead was finally able to find the man behind the torture he'd been subjected to just thirty minutes ago, and boy, was he pissed. Star was out for the count now, she had decided to talk to the unicorn in her wand under the blanket and Marco thought that was better than talking about what happened earlier.
When the credits rolled up, Marco stood up and stretched.
"I'll go fetch us some water, Star. I'll be back. In the meantime, you could pick out what to watch next."
Star froze in her spot under the blanket and peered at Marco carefully. Marco stood waiting. He knew when Star wanted to say something.
"Marco, can I try something? With you?" She refused to look at him, the purple hearts that occupied her face have thinned out now, with only little ones appearing here and there. His whole body shivered as she finally did lock eyes with him. Her blue eyes had shone like pearls glistening under the sun and her soft pink lips had been pressed together. Try what?
In the haze, Marco lost his voice and decided to stare at her like a deer in headlights. For good measure, she repeated in her clumsy conversational, "I kinda, wanna, sorta try something with you."
With a little push, he was able to squeeze out, though technically pathetically, "What is it..?"
"It's something Janna told me about."
Marco's eyes squinted in suspicion, the unease he previously felt now draining, "Star, if you think you can trust Janna just because she secretly loves pink—"
"I know right!" She interrupted excitedly, pressing her palms together. Marco gave a noncommittal blink.
"—you can't," he finished.
"But come on! It's worth a shot! Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yeeees," she pelted him, reaching an arm our playfully to poke his right flank where she knew he was ticklish.
Marco squirmed, "Okay, okay! Yes?"
"Okay, see, she said, if I wanted to really know why I didn't feel stuff for Oskar so suddenly, I should dance with him. And not just the it's-okay-to-be-weird-we're-just-friends-after-all kind of dance, it's the this-is-an-actual-dance-you-have-to-be-careful-not-to-step-on-your-partner's-feet kind of dance."
Marco's brow raised again. On top of the unease he felt towards the turn of events, it astounded him how very unlike Janna the dancing idea was, "Have you tried it with him?"
"Well.. Nooo," she mooned, with a funny look on her face.
"Why?"
"He's Oskaaar! With the great hair and the car and the musical inclination Oskar! I can't even stand beside him without running out of air to breathe!"
"Okay, okay.. Then.. Why do you think trying this with me makes any difference?"
"Because," Star paused and touched her hair, suddenly, she was interested on a patch of the carpeted floor, "Janna says it also works towards the guy you suddenly seem to be thinking about more than the... First one."
At this, Marco became speechless, and asked her the only thing that came up in his mind. With voice quivering slightly, he asked in a measured tone, "Why me?"
"See, that's the part I don't understand," she whispered and laughed awkwardly, doing nothing whatsoever to alleviate the growing disquiet. She closed her eyes tight as a blush crept up her face, "Would you like to help me.. find out?"
With his body as solid as a totem pole, and his arms suddenly feeling very weighty beside his body, his mouth dry, his palms sweaty and his heart hammering, Marco could do nothing but stare. And so stare he did. His lungs had suddenly forgotten how to breathe and his brain needed to restart to be able to work.
Why was this a big deal to him? Star was just trying things out, like she did all the time. Like she tried that flap-stack for the first time, like she tried that bicycle, like she tries that wand every day! Why was this different?! Why?!
Star was standing up, walking to him, but his body won't move. She looked into his eyes as his whole body tensed at her proximity and felt his heart break when she sighed.
"Never mind I said anything. I'll be in my room," she mumbled apologetically, walking up the stairs.
Marco snapped suddenly and blurted out without much thought (he decided he wasn't thinking anymore), "Let's do it."
And then it was like in those corny movies he had to turn away before cringing, where the protagonists found themselves mesmerized, and all manner of reason fell away. It was that moment he loathed because it all looked the same; her hand in his and their bodies inches away from each other, the tips of their noses touching. Only, this was real, Marco thought, and this felt so much better in person. And he would have been lying if he said he didn't think about some sort of force pulling them together in tight embrace.
The living room became a motionless backdrop and the world disappeared as quickly as his heart hammered constantly, and in a sway that started everything, they moved together carefully, as though every moment is treasured and every movement is memorized. Star's soft palms against his rough hands made his breath catch and the intensity in her eyes made him want to kiss her.
They moved awkwardly, with flimsy steps and uneven rhythm, his gait was skittish and her feet dragged lazily, but there was something about this inexperience that made the dance more tender than the one they shared under the Blood Moon ball. It was like they were really trying to grasp each other's feelings.
Their eyes remained fixated upon each other as Marco's left hand slowly rubbed at the small of her back. Star involuntarily leaned in closer, the hearts on her cheeks considerably purpling more but Marco felt, for the first time that day, that he didn't care anymore. That he was done thinking because it was all he ever did. He decided to act now. And found himself moving more swiftly, with light, careful footsteps to a slow dance with no symphony. Star followed him, deftly catching up as more and more purple hearts fell at her feet as she swayed with him.
Star's hand slid down from its spot on his shoulder and rested on his chest, where his breathing had been slow and steady. She pressed it over his heart as she felt him breathe out of his nose. The hot air fanned onto her cheeks and mouth and it made her giggle. The smile in his warm deep brown eyes and his thin lips made her smile in return, as he held her hand steady and continued to dance with her.
He was afraid, and will always be. Star had always been just his friend. Best friend. From another dimension. The adventures they shared and the near-death encounters they had made them stronger and connected them and the Blood Moon ball ensured this connection to the eternal bond their souls would now share. He didn't want anything to happen, it was just going to be a dance, but her eyes pushed him off a cliff into an oblivion of uncertainty and he didn't mind taking the jump, and her hands were so warm and sure, like it had known all along that that was its spot. And her lips... were the softest thing to ever touch his.
With closed eyes, he stood there, lips pressed tenderly against her, not moving. It was a light kiss, so light that the tips of their noses touched ever so slightly. Just enough to make him feel lightheaded but not enough to give him weird ideas. And then she tilted her head and he felt enough passion in him to kiss her deeper, capturing her lips in his, as she tentatively kissed back. Her heart swelled with affection and sent her mind reeling from the first time they met until now and that gave her renewed courage to push forward.
Marco's hands tentatively hovered against her hips, careful not to touch her unnecessarily. Her mouth was hot from her fever and the two distinct hearts on her cheeks began shifting from one shade of purple to another.
When she broke it off so gently, their eyes were still closed, their breaths becoming a notch warmer. That was when Marco put his hands on her hips. Star reached up to his face and cradled his left cheek in her palms. Marco leaned into her touch and turned his head a little so he could peck at her palm. She giggled again. This felt so much better than nodding at Jackie for years. He thought about the skater girl distantly and found that there was nothing in him that made his stomach fill with butterflies at the mention of her name. There was only Star now, and her exaggeration, and crazy monster-filled days with her, her magic and everything that she was.
Marco would get sick tomorrow, for sure, and they'd both have to stay home for real. But he didn't mind. He didn't, really. The silence stretched for quite some time before Marco bravely spoke first.
"Well?" He asked, his voice a low, breathy whisper, as he bravely went in for another kiss when Star leaned in.
"I'm not sure.." she hummed dreamily, tapping a finger on his chest. Marco raised a brow and lifted a hand to stroke through her blonde tresses.
"Maybe you can kiss me again?"
He laughed then, and the feel of his breath against her lips and the even shake of his chest against hers made her shiver in his arms. He kissed her again, as slow and as even as she wanted, his lips were firm and unhurried against hers. Her fingers stroked through his hair as she returned the kiss with gusto.
Finally breaking apart again, Marco exhaled softly against her lips.
"Marco, your breath stinks," she teased halfheartedly, as Marco pulled her closer and rested his head on top of her golden hair. His slender fingers were drawing circles at her nape lovingly as he slowly buried his nose into her hair and took a long draw from it.
"Well?" He asked again in a soft whisper, "I can kiss you all day until you figure it out."
Her lips curled into a smile against his collarbone and her eyelashes tickled his skin softly, "That actually sounds like a good idea."
And he kissed her again. And again. And again. She laughed and they kissed again.
She didn't really answer, she didn't say it in her clumsy words, but Marco felt it in her clumsier ways and that was all the answer he needed. They fell asleep together, Marco with his back on the couch, his lips against Star's forehead and Star on top of him, fitting snugly in his arms, his long, lanky legs bent safely on either side of her hips.
Angie and Rafael came home hours later and Rafael had to cover his wife's mouth to prevent her from squealing with glee as she snapped a picture of them, giving herself a pat on the back.
"The next time you want to set your son up, make sure you plan a better day at the park, honey. No one goes to a picnic and stays there for almost ten hours," Rafael mumbled playfully at his wife, holding her close as they looked fondly at the sleeping children.
Whew. That was a nice experience, although I do admit I have plenty of room for improvement, I would like to thank you guys for stopping by and checking this story out. It means so much to me. This is the second and-maybe, i don't know teehee-last part of this fanfiction but I think I'd continue writing about these two in the future, who knows. It's just that great of an experience.
Once again, thank you guys so much for being real nice and reviewing and I hope you can help me with your reviews in the future. :) and hopefully, this ending was great and cleared up some things as to why I wrote the first part like I did. For me it was, at least. Let me know what you think. ^^ and I'll continue improving myself.