Prompt: Just Star's thoughts regarding her roommate.

Wondering

Something is happening when Star Butterfly is isolated by herself and Marco is in his bedroom getting ready, his hair styled in a more tousled–sexier way, him rolling his sleeves all the way up his elbows to show his lean arms, which in turn, brings the very attention of most girls in class without him even noticing.

She thinks.

Goddamn the amount of thinking she does is too much sometimes.

And all she could think about right now is how he doesn't really have to try hard anymore, maybe even ever. By he, she means Marco Diaz–straight A, never misses school, undefeated black belter in taekwondo, who likes to read romance novels when he thinks she's not looking. Who listens to classical music whenever he's studying and dubstep when he has problems, who likes strong black coffee, who softly greets you in the morning with the most ridiculous hair.

There's an awkward charm to it. She usually mentally struggled between finding it endearing or laughable until she is pulled in deeper to find out more, where it's just him and her, thrown into the harsh environment of being unable to run backwards from it. But rather, fall in deeper, head first, without any reason to stop.

Marco is not a cut above the rest. He's not like a leading guy in a romantic comedy nor does he have the carved body to be catalogued in a men's magazine. He doesn't have the most perfect personality comparable to every lady's dream guy. But he does have a laugh that could cure cancer, his lips slowly breaking into a megawatt white smile and eyes crinkling. He does have brown eyes that when reflected by the sun–is the most beautiful distraction she could come up with. She has this awkward, dorky and absolutely amusing sense of humor which brightens her darkest of days because it often involves him laughing loudly before he could ever finish the joke.

He does have olive skin, when touched by her own elicits a reaction from her, her heart thumping loudly, often worrying if he could hear. It's skin when not careful, she could easily love over and over and over again. It's absolutely terrifying, she's so far up that there is little to no hope of escaping.

But then,

There is his obsessiveness to safety. If there is one thing to know about Marco Diaz it's his ability to know everything regarding precautions. Often times, nobody could tell which would tick him off but she'd see him sacrifice himself several times to know enough how careful a person has to be over a falling flower pot or slippery floor. Most people would find it immediately infuriating. Especially girls. Because they don't go around focusing on glass shards on the floor instead of making out at the back of the library. In fact, most people would avoid him to stray away the idea of wasting time with him and his safety lectures. Because who would want to deal with a freak who thinks that everything is out to get him?

She doesn't mind.

In fact, she finds it incredibly sweet.

Cute even.

Don't ask her why.

For a timid guy she met when she transferred, he carried a lot of baggage. He's the crown jewel treasured by his very sweet parents yet they expect highly of him. He works so absolutely fucking hard and yet people often decide it's better to only talk to him because he can finish homework way faster and better than anyone else. He carries it with him. The feeling of being a burden to most people as he usually sat on the back end of the class, silent and just looking out the window. He carries the unknown self-esteem issues he currently have because no matter how many times she compliments him, he doesn't quite believe her. He is an awkward, shy and nimble wrapped into one guy; who'd want to deal with him?

Again.

She doesn't mind.

Perhaps she needs to take up her mom on her offer about a session to a professional, she's probably not mentally sane anymore for being around him way too much, she developed this philosophy in her head. She cannot fathom a future without a tall guy who has way too much knowledge in his head and without the damn red hood hovering over his face.

No Marco, no future.

It's simple. It doesn't really take a genius to grasp the idea but when she took up that counselor on their college and that sentence slipped out of her lips, she was given this look of concern and a suggestion for a session two.

Because it's apparently unhealthy to focus on one person and one person alone.

It's no longer healthy to want someone so badly it hurts her sometimes.

Marco. Marco.

Marco.

The thing is, he had always been there. He has been there the moment she transferred and the moment they became roommates. She depended on the comfort of his warm palms whenever she needs him for anything.

He has always been there. Will always be there. It's safe to assume that he'd be right by her side, correct?

She doesn't take up that second session with the counselor because she knows she doesn't need one. Her life is easy flowing. She lacks a problem, that's the thing. Before she came into his life, everything is brought to her feet in a heartbeat. College helps; especially Marco because he taught her a lot of things normally done for her.

She now worries about cleaning their apartment. She worries what time he goes off from his part time job. She worries about the bills and she misses her parents since they live a thousand miles apart.

She can worry about anything at all as long as Marco Diaz is part of her life, and is there for her whenever–where ever.

So that counselor can kiss her ass goodbye because she'd take this moments of reflection over penciling another session to be told she's concerning.

"How do I look?"

Star drawls when Marco stood in front of her as she was watching television or rather attempting to watch. He's pacing, a habit he does when nervous. She relaxes her shoulders and leans back, glancing at the clock to realize Janna might wreck havoc in tonight's year end party. He throws her a lock behind his shoulder a she readjusted his tie for the nth time.

"I think I should have worn the other shirt" He mutters self-consciously, arms crossing over one another and she follows the movement faithfully. Then back to his nervous face.

"Nah you look fine"

He does. He look way better than fine. He looks absolutely fucking gorgeous.

"You sure? I think I should change"

"Nah"

"I think I really should"

"I don't think so"

He throws her a second look. "What would you know about men's fashion anyway?"

"Obviously a lot more than you" She retorts.

She expects the exact reaction of face contorting into a scowl and a groan from him as she sits up with a smirk. His hair. His arms. His skin. His eyes. He'll have the girls swooning over him again.

"Keep it on. You look great. It kinda shows you have way more muscles underneath the fuckin hood. You look… Handsome"

He jumps at the sincerity of her words. Knowing fully well she reserved such heartfelt words on special occasions. A hue of pink tinting her cheeks as he feels his stare on her, thinking why she's so stuck on everything he is.

"Really?"

"No" She snorts slyly. She reclines back on the couch and she catches on his growl and the low grumble of his voice. She really needs to stop being a jackass most of the time.

"I'm joking"

But it's a way better treat to see him fuming cutely beside her.

Author's Note: This is a short one so I apologize. It's also probably not one of my "great" works but I kinda liked this one. What'd you think? I'll be getting back on track soon ;)