hey guys =)) i know, i know, sorry for my sporadic updates; finals season's coming and i'm insanely busy omg XD but to make it up to you guys, this chapter is incredibly long, like, honestly, it's over 6k; i have never written a 'chapter' this long lol XD

anyway :D i'm getting to the 'comfort' part in the 'hurt/comfort' tag, so treat urself to some extremely self-indulgent starco fluff ^^

*whisper* cause it's not gonna last long lmaoo

i recommend listening to 'Anchor' by Mindy Gledhill for this chapter; to get a better feel while reading and the song's kinda necessary for a scene in this chapter, but i'm not gonna tell you which one lol XD

Like the first time she got her wings, they just had to test it out.

"Ah! Marco!" she shrieked excitedly, "Come on; do you think I can fly?"

"Well, you did just float in midair so yeah, I think you're fine."

"Killjoy," she swatted his shoulder playfully, mirth still in her eyes, "Don't let go, Marco!"

Before he could protest, she grabbed his arm and jumped.

Spoiler alert: It actually worked this time.

They shot into the air and it took his breath away.

"Whoa," she jerked, adjusting her balance and he let out a shriek that has more similarity with an anime school girl than he's willing to admit, "Careful there, this ride is gonna be—" she huffed a little, swaying in the air, trying to get used to it, "A little bumpy."

"Star! What the—"

The forest from above was…magnificent, to say the least. The sun was high and blazing hot, the wind in his hair soothing and refreshing, her fingers clenching tightly around his forearm, her skin soft and warm…

Oh dear God he was going to fall—!

"Agh!" he scrambled into her embrace, his nails digging into her flesh and she winced a little, "A little warning next time?" he scowled up at her and she just laughed.

"Marco, Marco," she lamented dramatically, still in a very playful mood, "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't push you into letting loose and enjoying yourself once in awhile? I mean, look at this!" she gestured towards the horizon and he had to admit, she had a point, "Isn't this gorgeous?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes stuck on the graceful but mightily strong flaps of her wings, "Gorgeous."

"Exactly," she nodded, seemingly very pleased with herself. He smiled to himself. For just a moment, a glimpse of the old Star Butterfly, the one he became best friends with, the nonchalant, happy-go-lucky girl came back, and he didn't realized how much he missed this side of her until it smacked him in the face. She was so beautiful, so blissfully merry, so happy—

And he was the one who destroyed it in the first place.

No, no. It's—not his fault. Not his fault she has problems with her mother, with Toffee and her kingdom. Not his fault she decided to not tell him about her feelings until she was pushed past the breaking point and everything turned upside down, not his fault she dropped the bomb on him and then left without a single word, making him so worried he had to go find her—

Yeah. Not his fault. Not his fault.

He should stop blaming himself.

"Oh, Marco," she sing-songed, "I have an idea."

And they went higher, higher, so high that he could see nothing but a sea of clouds and a curtain of mist. The scenery was something he'd see on a plane, in the safety of a metal box several thousand meters above sea level—

"Oh my God!" he squeaked, "D—Don't let go, Star! I—I don't want to die yet!" he cried, his fingers around her turned rigid, completely immobile because of the fear and the unearthly cold when they're so high up in the sky—

"Silly," she smiled, "I won't let you go,"

And just like that, he relaxed in her arms.

"Hey," she called him, "Do you want to touch the clouds?"

"Huh?" he asked, dumbfounded. Wasn't this…touching the clouds thing a fairytale cliché? He knew that clouds are just water vapour; what's there to touch?

But again, this is Mewni, a dimension where trees are poisonous and unicorns exist. Not Earth.

"I mean, sure, but—"

"Okay here you go!" she grinned and took his hand, flew next to a fluffy looking cloud and plunged his fingers in.

"W—What?" he exclaimed, his mouth open wide in awe, "How could this be possible? It's just a bunch of mist…"

"Why is it so…soft?" he laughed out loud in joy, mind blown, "It feels like cotton!"

"Welcome to Mewni, my friend," she said in her announcer voice, which, in his opinion, sounded horrible, but he wasn't going to tell her that. She had him hanging in her arms kilometers above ground; he's not stupid or suicidal.

"Go on, give it a taste," she smiled, "Just don't touch the yellow ones. Trust me, they'll give you a run for your money. And not the good kind of run either."

He plucked a tiny piece of a nearby pink cloud and plopped it in his mouth. It was painfully familiar but so utterly different at the same time. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before, but at the same time reminded him of that cotton candy he always got every time he went to a carnival with his parents as a kid.

His face felt uncomfortably hot and something trickled down his eyes.

"Are—Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, her voice soft and sweet, "Do you want to go down?"

"What—" he reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek. When did that get there? "No, I—" he took a shaky breath and tried to calm himself, "I'm fine. But you're right; we should go back down. Your wings must be tired."

"Well, kinda," she chuckled, "I mean, it feels like I'm jogging and I'd like the exercise, but yeah, I guess. We still need to get some food before we go to Kelly."

"Wait," he mumbled, "Why couldn't we go to her house now? You could, I don't know, fly us there, could you?"

"Huh," she tilted her head to the side and he sighed a little at how cute she was, "Never thought about that before. We don't need our old supplies anymore; Kelly got the good stuff. Good thinking, Safe Kid," she shifted her wings and groaned a little, "Ugh, it aches. I haven't had a proper workout in so long. And this—wing thing is more tiring than I thought."

Well, that made him feel guilty, "Is there anything I can do to help?" he mumbled, a bit worried.

"Yeah," her face scrunched in effort, "Stay still and stop squirming, would you?"

"Oh—Okay…"

"Psh, Kelly. Kelly!" Star whispered from their spot inside the bushes. They had to pull off an emergency landing when Star's wings started to cramp and the guards patrolling around the outskirts of the Capital started noticing them. People have been actively searching for them now, hurried footsteps and shouts of orders made them too afraid to go airborne again. Luckily, Star spotted Kelly walking to the market and had been trying to grab the aquamarine haired girl's attention ever since.

"Huh?" Thank God, she noticed them, "Wait, " The girl peered into the thick bushes, "What are you doing here? Why are you a wanted criminal?" she started to freak out a little, "Why is your hair short?"

"Hush, Kelly," Star reassured one of her best friends, "It's a long story; I'll explain…later. Can I—"

"Hide in my house? Of course!" Kelly quickly let her hair down from the pony tail she was wearing, "Uh, but I think I can only hide one of you in here," she turned over and whispered to the bushes, "That's Marco with you, right? He's on the black list too. Just posted this morning."

"Goddammit, I'm wanted now?" he cursed under his breath, "Wait, how much am I worth?"

Star glared at him and he shut up, "That's not important, Marco," she scowled, "Okay, do you think you can get him over to your place? I'll fly there by myself."

"Wait, fly?" Kelly blinked, "You can fly now?"

"Totally," she grinned, "Check these out," Her black wings came out and she gawked in awe.

"Wicked," Kelly laughed, but he shushed her, "Okay then, Marco. Hold on tight and whatever you do, don't go out of my hair." He looked like he wanted to complain.

"This is so weird." By the Gods, he actually had the guts to complain.

Star rolled her eyes at him, "I know, but that's how we are, so deal with it."

He slipped into the mass of aquamarine hair without another word.

"Okay? You covered him?" he heard her voice, muffled from the thick curtains around him.

"Yeah, totes," the girl turned over to his best friend and miraculously, not even an inch of him showed.

They tested a few steps and like it was magic, synced. His legs moved by themselves, following Kelly's movements. Honestly, if he wasn't so intrigued, he'd be freaked out right about now.

"See you there, B-Fly," Kelly waved to Star and the girls exchanged a look that Marco didn't catch, being covered in hair and everything.

The walk back was the longest one he had ever experienced.

"Whoa," Star huffed, came barging in the living room, "That was close."

Marco stopped his nervous pacing and ran over, catching her in his arms and hugged her tight, "Star! What the heck; you scared the shit out of me! You were supposed to be here half an hour ago; what happened?"

"I'm fine, Marco," she rolled her eyes at him and he let her go, a bit embarrassed by the giggles Kelly couldn't contain, "Just got chased by a few guards, that's all. Apparently, shooting their Princess with a crossbow and arrows was the brightest idea they've had all day," she huffed, and tried to clean herself up.

Marco eyed her reluctantly. She looked scruffy, bits of tree leaves sticking out from her short, dirty hair. There was a long torn on her dress, all the way up her left thigh, and he couldn't look away, even if he tried.

"Uh," he mumbled something illegible, "Do you want to, I don't know, clean up first?" he offered, but she caught a whiff of him and winced a little, apologetic.

"No offense, Marco," Kelly spoke up before Star even had the chance to say anything, "But you smell like a dumpster. You should go take a shower and, you know, try to wash out that smell? Not sure you'd hit a success, but it's worth a try. Bathroom's down the hall, take a left turn. Everything's there already. I got you Tad's cousin's clothes; should fit," she shook her head and grabbed Star's arm, "And you, B-Fly, you've got a lot to fill me in on."

"Okay, okay," she laughed, "But can you at least give me a sandwich or something? I'm literally starving here."

The girls left for the garden and Kelly slammed the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Star…

He wouldn't—mind if she didn't change into something else…The scruffy look on her was spot on—

No! He groaned and rubbed his face.

Get your shit together, Marco Diaz.

"Okay, spill," Kelly folded her arms once they got out of the house, "Why are you here with him? Why are you wanted? And where's the Queen?"

"Slow down, slow down," Star raised a hand meekly, being bombarded with questions as soon as they're in private, "I'll answer them, but one at a time, please."

"Alright. How about you start with what the heck happened?"

The blonde girl sighed. This is going to be a very long day.

He sighed gratefully when the scalding hot water hit his shoulder. Ah, so this is what pure bliss felt like.

Marco found several kinds of shampoo on the shelves, but weirdly enough, none of them are for men. Tad lives here, no? Shouldn't he has, like, a ton of shampoo? He's mostly hair, after all. Or are those called shower gel, since he's putting them on his entire body?

Ugh, bad shower thoughts, Marco.

He picked one that smelled like strawberry and squirted a generous amount on his head. Who knew when he'd get the chance to take a shower again? It's not like they can stay here; if he wants to go home then they need to find Toffee.

Or they could just be stuck here forever.

He shook his head. No, think better thoughts. They're going to make it back home one day.

Would she even want to go back with him?

Too much trouble. He couldn't focus with all this steam on his face. He needed to cool down.

Besides, the water dousing on him was more than enough.

He stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. Eyes searching for the clothes Kelly mentioned, he spotted a bundle of cloth folded neatly, sitting on a counter.

He cursed under his breath as he picked up the thin red sweater, the surprising appearance of double-striped shorts, and a scarf. A freaking scarf.

It was stuffing hot outside.

Jesus. This is going to be unbearable.

"Wait, you're telling me he did this to you?"

"No, no," Star denied immediately, "It's my fault. My fault."

"Don't give me that bullcrap, Star," Kelly snapped, "If he didn't hurt you, then you would've been fine! You would've been having fun in the dimension you love!" she stopped a bit as if considering whether she should say the next thing on her mind, "Your mother would still be alive."

"It's not his fault," she protested, "I should've gave up on him as soon as he got together with Jackie. It's all because I couldn't control my feelings. He didn't do anything."

Kelly stared at her, a sad look in her eyes. But Star stood there, determined to prove that no, it's not Marco's fault. He was merely living and having a good time with his girlfriend. She dragged him into this.

The long haired girl sighed and pulled her into a hug, "You're too nice for your own good, you know that, right?" Star laughed a little and squeezed her friend tight, seeking for any comfort she could get.

"What can I say?" she smiled genuinely when Kelly let go of her, "I was born that way."

They both laughed and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she actually felt safe and loved.

"Now let's go inside," Kelly yawned and stretched, "I think your BFF is done cleaning up," she grinned at Star," Let's hope we can breathe again, eh?"

He was downing a cup of water when they walked in.

Star was the first one to laugh, "Why are you dressing like that? It's burning out there,"

"Hey, I didn't get to choose my clothes," he shot Kelly a dirty look, "Ask your little friend over there."

"Hey, don't look at me," she shrugged, "Tad's cousin had only came here like, what, two times? You're lucky he forgot his clothes."

"Wait, where's Tad?"

Kelly's face turned sour. Star got it immediately, "It's alright, Kel. You're better off without that wig."

"Yeah," the girl nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I think I'm gonna get a haircut as well. I mean, it worked so well on you."

"Aww, thanks," she smiled, and for a few seconds, Marco couldn't help but stared at her. She looked so beautiful smiling, being happy. He had taken moments like this for granted, and didn't even realized how much he had missed them until they're gone.

Someone cleared their throat in a less than subtle way and he startled. They—They noticed? Star was grinning at him and he could feel the hot blush spreading across his face. God, out of everything that could've happened, he got caught staring at her.

"Anyway," Kelly said, saving him from the embarrassment, "B-Fly, you should go take a shower. I have my clothes in there for you already. Second shelf from the top, okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, already starting to walk inside the house, "Thanks, Kel."

"No problem."

As soon as the bathroom door closed, however, she turned over to him and he swallowed nervously despite himself.

"And you, Diaz," Kelly narrowed her eyes, "You and I are going to have a little…chat."

Ah, shit.

The first ones appeared on her chest, right where her heart would be.

She had stared at them for solid minutes before jumping in the shower, panicking, trying frantically to wash them out.

No, no, this couldn't be—

But it didn't come out. She rubbed her skin raw and red, until they felt so tender and it looked like she might bleed any second, but despite her effort, it did nothing. She cried, she wept silently, gasping for air desperately.

She couldn't—It couldn't be—

Star Butterfly collapsed again, curling up to herself.

She couldn't scream, couldn't call for help.

She was alone.

The inky cracks were already nicked into her skin, swirls of black lines, laced with symbols and what looked like ancient Mewman writings.

They're spreading like a deadly plague, slowly invading her soft, white skin, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were supposed to mean.

A warning. How much time she has left.

Corruption.

"Your turn," Kelly rolled her eyes at him, "I already asked Star, so if your stories don't match, I'm kicking you out."

"Me? Why me?" he protested indignantly.

"Cause she's my friend. You? I hardly know you, and you already hurt her more than any guy is allowed to," said her, finger pointing at him, accusing, "So start talking."

He sighed, "Fine. But just so you know, I have no idea she felt that way about me."

And he told Kelly everything, from when things were great and Jackie had just become his girlfriend, to that damned Love Sentence concert, and then it just went downhill from there.

Kelly nodded thoughtfully, "It seems…plausible. But that doesn't excuse you from hurting my friend."

"I didn't do anything!" he snapped, "So being happy with my girlfriend is a crime now? I'm supposed to pay for it by a lifetime exile to a dimension almost no one on Earth knows about?"

She seemed speechless, and he decided not to push his luck any further.

"Look," he sighed, "I just want to fix this. I want to go home, but leaving Star here is not going to be an option. I have to fix this. Fix her." he told Kelly, his tone fueled with undeterred determination.

Her eyes gleamed with something he couldn't name.

"I get why she loves you now," she smiled softly, understanding, making him flustered as all hell, "But I have a word of advice for you, Diaz," her previously fixated glare softened, "Be careful when you try to fix someone, for you risk breaking them even more."

With that, she patted him on the back and went inside the house, the silly, almost genuine smile still lingering on her lips.

He stood there, baffled, mulling over her words.

She was right.

"Star?" Kelly's voice echoed across the house, "Where are you?"

She couldn't stop the choked sobs escaping her throat.

"Star?" the voice rang again, a bit more worried this time, "Are you still in the bathroom? Girl, I know you want a nice, long bath, and honestly, you deserve it, but we kinda need to talk about something now. Do you guys have a plan to break the barrier on Mewni? Cause I can think of a few places you could go to find help."

She tried desperately to quiet herself, gasping for air and clamping her mouth with a hand, muffling any cries that her lungs furiously coughed up.

"Star?"

No answer.

"Star? Are you in there?"

He was the one who called her this time.

She thought about the little time she has left and how she wouldn't be able to spend it with him like she oh so wanted to.

She really shouldn't be crying this much.

A loud, uncontrollable sob wracked her body, leaving it trembling and she heard a gasp.

"Star—oh my God, she's crying," he banged on the door, and she whimpered, "Kelly, do you have a key for this?" Another voice said something hushed and there were hurried footsteps thumping on the wooden floor.

He was outside, pressing his ear to the door in hope of getting some reaction from her.

"Star, sweetie, please, you don't have to—" His tongue was tied, and he momentarily ran out of words to say. She shook her head despite knowing he wouldn't be able to see her.

At this point, there was nothing he could say that she hadn't heard from him already.

She was tired, she was sick.

She was dying.

More hushed whispers, the click of a lock.

The door slammed open and she buried her face in her knees, eyes hurting from the intense light outside.

"Oh my God—hey, hey!" someone shouted, "Whoa, whoa, what's wrong? Oh my God—" A pair of arms circled her shoulders and pulled her close, "Hey, hey, shh, hey, look at me, look at me," She cried even harder, "Shh, what's wrong? What happened to you? Are you hurt?" A hand glided over her hair soothingly, "Oh my God, are you okay? Hey—" the same voice shushed her, their fingers tightened around her arms and she felt secured, "Hey, look at me. Look at me. What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, Princess."

It was Marco. She shook her head furiously.

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?"

She knew. She just—

Couldn't say it out loud.

"Shh, don't cry, don't cry. I'm right here. Look, I'm right here," he lifted her chin gently and she reluctantly opened her eyes. There was a frenzy of unadulterated fear on his face, bordering on panicking. His eyes, however, were snapped shut. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm here. No one's gonna hurt you. I'm right here with you, okay? I've got you right here."

She could feel even more tears streaming down her face.

"You tell me what's wrong, okay?"

"I—" she stammered, and he went silent, "I—death—tattoos—time—little time left—"

She broke down crying again.

"Okay, okay," he assured her immediately, hands clutching her even closer, "You don't have to tell me a full story—you don't have to—you don't have to explain anything right now, okay? Just—come here. Come here," he pressed a small kiss to her forehead, "It's alright."

"Shh, don't cry, don't cry. I'm right here. No one's gonna hurt you. I'm right here. I'm not leaving. Just—You can cry, for as long as you want, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm here now."

"I don't know when this whole thing started, but—I'm here now. It's okay, Star. I've got you close. I've got you close. Nothing else is gonna happen. Just—calm down. It's all over now. It's over. There's no need to be scared anymore."

They sat on the bathroom floor, rocking back and forth together, with him occasionally mumbling words of comfort in the shell of her ear.

And she believed him.

An hour passed by and he managed to calm her down. Marco coaxed her into leaving the bathroom, going outside and maybe tell them what happened.

She finally had her fill of crying. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she straightened her back and he jerked, eyes immediately shut tight again.

"M—Marco?" she asked, worried. Had she done something wrong again?

"I—uh, I'll just—wait outside…" A furious blush dominated his face, and he tripped on his feet several times. "You should—" he stopped on his track at the doorway, eyes opened but refusing to even look at her direction, "Uh, should I—call Kelly? Do you have, um—clothes…yet?"

Oh my fucking God.

Star stared at the reflection of herself in the mirror by the sink.

Skin, skin, and even more skin.

Needless to say, she wasn't wearing anything.

She covered her face and groaned, painful.

He scampered out of the room before she could say anything to embarrass herself even further.

Not like it was possible, though.

"So," Kelly started, "I hope you guys didn't, um, trash my bathroom."

"What? No!" Star panicked, her voice at least an octave higher than usual, "We didn't do anything!"

"Right…"

"What was that supposed to mean?!"

"Star—" Marco interrupted them gently, his eyes staring deep into her soul, "I hate to be that guy, but I'm really worried about you. Tell me, please. What happened?"

Silence filled the room and Kelly seemed to get the message.

"I'll, uh, go check with my other…acquaintances. They might have an idea as to what you guys can do to go back to Earth."

"Stay here," she told him, her voice stern and full of command, "Keep an eye on her. Don't go anywhere."

Star was sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, staring intently into the flame, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

His eyes were on hers once again and she couldn't look away.

"Marco, I—" she began, but the words were stuck and sticky in her throat. She swallowed, trying to get that lumps of emotion to go away, but to no avail.

"It—It's okay," he forced a smile, "You don't have to tell me anything yet. But just so you'd know, I want to help you. I really do. But I can't if I don't know what's wrong."

And that somehow undone her.

"There were these…tattoos," she mumbled, "They started from my heart, and they are spreading. I—I started using black magic on the wings, and I unleashed the magic. The corruption shows now, Marco," she said desperately, "These tattoos…they're signs as to how much time I have left. And when you see it, oh Gods, I don't have much time."

He was silent for a few agonizing moments, shocked to speechlessness, and oh Gods, she made the mistake—he wouldn't want to stay with her now—she's nothing but a burden to his goal—

"Oh Star," he snatched her into a hug, "I—I'm so sorry."

"I don't need your pity, Marco," she snapped a little, turning defensive. If pity was what he was going to offer her, she has no taste for it.

"No, it—it's not pity," he corrected himself, holding her at an arm's length so he could look her in the eye, "I just—God, I didn't know…"

He gathered her in his arms again and they just sat there together for a long moment.

"H—Hey," he began, but she didn't look at him, "Are you okay now?" he fidgeted with the sleeves of his sweater, nervous.

Silence shrouded them. He was unsure of what to say or how to react. If he said the wrong thing…

Kelly's warning came crashing back to him and he shut his mouth.

But no matter how much he tried to push away his messed up thoughts, the image of her bare back, smooth skin going on for long, endlessly long plains, the muscles rolling and moving with her every breath…

Stop, Marco, you fucking pervert.

"I—" she muttered, and his attention immediately zoned in on her, "I didn't think I only have so much time left," she turned over to him, tears brimming in her eyes, "I don't want this, Marco, I don't—"

"Shh," he rushed over and enclosed her in his arms, holding her tight, "It's going to be alright. We—We'll figure it out. There must be a way to cure you—"

She shook her head, "It's no use, Marco," she sobbed into his chest, "We—Not even Grandma had seen something like this," A choked sound escaped her throat and she looked up blearily, "Something like me."

"Hey, don't be—don't be like that," his eyes searched the little cozy living room, desperate for something to distract her from the crushing realization. His gaze landed on the little phonograph sitting on a coffee table, and a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Do you, uh…" he held her at shoulder length, eyes searching her and looking like he was rethinking his question, "Do you want to dance?"

She blinked a few times at his absurd request and laughed. That alone was worth the effort and embarrassment, "But I'm awful," she said.

"What are you talking about? First of all, you're a Princess. Second of all, we've dance before, remember?"

God, did she remember that night.

Seeing the uncertainty still lingering on her features, he relaxed a little and took her hands, "We'll go slow."

She smiled at him after what felt like an eternity and he walked over to the old machine, praying that Kelly has some decent song.

The disk made a pleasant scratchy noise and started to turn when he came back to her.

"Shall we, my Lady?" he joked, bowing down, eyes looking into her own blue ones and the faintest of blushes dusted her cheeks pink. She looked mortified for a second, like something suddenly hit her hard and fast, before recovering and took his hand, a grateful sigh relieved her entire tense body.

The first notes came up and he winced a little. A waltz. He was never good with that type of dancing. But he guessed it should at least be something fitting for a Princess, after all.

'When all the world is spinning 'round,'

He pulled her close, gingerly placing a hand on her waist. She put one hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder. They swayed, barely moving to the music.

'Like a red balloon way up in the clouds,'

She stared at him, something unexplainable in her eyes. It's not sadness, nor fear, nor uncertainty. He wasn't sure what it was, and honestly, was slightly afraid of finding out.

'And my feet will not stay on the ground,'

They spun across the room together, occasionally bumping into several objects and shared a few somewhat awkward laughs. But they didn't let that stop them from having this moment to the fullest.

'You anchor me back down.'

She smiled at him, grateful, happy, as if somehow a simple dance with him could solve her problems and push away all of her bad thoughts.

He could feel himself melting under her gaze.

'I am nearly world renowned,'

Her eyes were so beautiful. He spun her when the music was just right, and she let out a hearty laugh. Tears were drying themselves on her face, and he was glad. He never wanted to see her cry again.

'As a restless soul who always skips town.'

He vaguely remembered the first time they danced together. It hasn't even been a proper waltz; just the music and nothing else. They didn't dance the way they were supposed to, didn't follow the beat, the flow, didn't actually care, to be honest. Dancing with her was something different, something magical, something nostalgic.

He missed this, missed when she would let down her guard, break her walls and open up to him. No more masks, no more diplomatic fake smiles, no more lies, no more secrets. Just them. Like the good old days, before any of this ever happened.

Sometimes, if he imagined it hard enough, could be delusional just a little more, it almost felt like the truth.

'But I look for you to come around,'

And even though the dance had come to an abrupt and honestly a little violent end, he had enjoyed it. He was sure she had, too, for they had talked about the dance a few times after he made her nachos that night, and the slight blush evident on her face when he presented her the steaming bowl should've been the clearest sign he had ever received from her liking him.

Looking back, he was such an idiot.

'And anchor me back down.'

It's not my fault, he reminded himself. She made it clear that she wanted him as nothing more than a friend; why would he assume that she likes him? She probably wasn't even interested in him back then; what was stopping him from dreaming about Jackie?

'There are those who think that I'm strange,'

She looked a bit reluctant at the change of emotion and the sudden bitterness on his face. He didn't even realized that they had stopped dancing until she gently tapped his shoulder and mouthed a soft 'Are you okay?' He startled a little before smiling down at her again, but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes.

'They would box me up and tell me to change,'

"Marco," she whispered, "I—I understand that you're uncomfortable. I don't blame you. We can—I'll just…"

She left his embrace and the lost of her warmth woke him up.

'But you hold me close and softly say;'

"Don't go," he told her, his hands slowly pulling her back to him. She resisted a little, looking winded and hurt, "I—I'm sorry for that. Just some nasty thoughts surfacing; nothing to do with you. Can we continue, please?"

He lied through his teeth and prayed that she wouldn't be able to tell.

'That you wouldn't have me any other way.'

"I—" she began, but he shushed her and swayed them both to the soft, comforting waltz, trying his best to fit the role of a Prince Charming worthy of her affection.

But she wasn't one to be easily fooled.

"Marco," she said his name in that serious, tired tone, and the smile on his face died. She knew.

'When people pin me as a clown,'

"Please, just—Tell me what's wrong?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

He couldn't look into those eyes.

God, why did she has to make this so hard? It would've been easier, way easier, for her to just stay angry at him, not speaking, not interacting. He would've even been fine with her rage. This?

This is too close. Too intimate. Too tempting.

Too close.

'You behave as though I'm wearing a crown.'

It would've freed his mind if she acted jealous, even just a little. Instead, she seemed to still want him to be with Jackie, which confused him to no end. Didn't Star love him? She had said so herself, less than twenty four hours ago.

Then why was she doing this? Sacrificing everything for him, protecting him, loving him? Why all the affection, attention, devotion? What was it all for?

'When I'm lost I feel so very found,'

"Marco…" she called his name again and he stared at her. There was something about her that he couldn't explain, couldn't understand, couldn't, for the life of him, figure it out. But that something attracted him. That something made his life interesting, adventurous. That something gave him that spark of excitement he had always wanted to have in his life.

That something made him like her.

He wouldn't go as far as to say he loves her; after all, Jackie's still waiting for him back on Earth—

No.

He couldn't betray his girlfriend's trust! He needed to be faithful, loyal; this was the girl he had been hopelessly loving ever since he started to have memories! This girl, who has been the only person he desires for a decade. This girl, who's worrying sick about him at this very moment, and there's nothing he could do to soothe her.

This girl, who's in love with him.

'When you anchor me back down.'

But what about Star? She saved his life numerous times, sometimes by giving up something dear to her heart, others by putting her own life on the line to rescue him and bring him back to safety. She was his friend; the kind he had always wanted, the kind he had never had before, the kind whom he knew he could trust.

And by God's name, does she love him.

'There are those who think that I'm strange,'

"Marco, please, just—Talk to me? Are you okay?" Her voice woke him up again, "Did—Did I do something wrong?"

'They would box me up and tell me to change.'

"N—No," he managed, "It's alright. I just—need some air," he tugged the scarf around his face even closer to block out the pained look on her face.

The feeling of guilt rose in his stomach and he tried to push it down.

…Didn't work.

'But you hold me close and softly say;'

The door clicked open and he left the room, closing it quietly behind him. The music was still going on, and she sighed to herself. God, she should've never said yes. This whole idea was disastrous; why did she ever think that he would eventually love her like she had always wanted?

She was naive and an idiot.

She was of no use to him or anyone else.

She was useless. She was dying.

'That you wouldn't have me any other way.'

She was nothing.

ooooh snap i hope you enjoyed that dance scene *eyebrow wiggle* it's the beginning of something new, y'all

their adventure is timed now, cause in my experience, giving stuff a deadline always makes it better lmaooo