The door creaked open unbearably slow, a streak of light flooding the room as someone entered the dark dorm room. It hurt. Marceline groaned, screwing her eyes shut and pushing her face further into her bundle of pillows, blankets and duvets. Being ill was something she was gradually getting used to this week, it seemed. It hadn't gone away by the second day like Marceline had assumed it would, instead it just stuck and made her life harder than necessary.
At first it was a stuffy throat, usual considering the colder weather, but then there was the sore throat and constant migraines that followed the days after. When she was little she'd get ill more often than not; her shitty immune system sitting back and letting every virus a child could safely get fester in Marceline's red blood cells. Or… maybe the red ones. She wasn't there for that particular science lesson.
Finally the door clicked shut, giving Marceline the chance to wearily peer up at her intruder. Oh, Bonnibel. She was home from work earlier than usual, a small smile gracing her face and Marceline's entire life. "Hey, hun," She practically cooed, seating herself on the edge of Marceline's bed to press a pleasantly cold hand to her fevered forehead. "How you feeling?"
"Hurts to breathe," Marceline wheezed, not sure whether the heat was actually from her being ill or something else. "I drank that tea you made, turned me really sleepy and I had a nap."
The smile turned impossibly sweeter as Bonnibel removed her hand. "Glad to know. Did you like it? It was chamomile."
"Your old woman drink?" Marceline started, scrunching her face in mild disgust. "It was okay." At Bonnibel's cute laugh that she got in response, she shot her friend a glare and pulled her blanket up to her nose. "Just because I drank it doesn't mean I liked it."
The other girl just rolled her eyes and stood from the bed, much to the displeasure of Marceline. "I wasn't laughing at your obvious lie." She teased. "You're cute when you're ill. Reminds me of when you were little and skipped weeks of school because of a cold."
Marceline's glare would've become more pointed, if the migraine starting in the back of her head didn't stop her. She stuck to a pout that made Bonnibel smile as she opened the drawers overflowing with her clothes. "You're cute." She replied without thinking and then added in an afterthought, "I didn't mean that."
And Bonnibel, sweet dimpled Bonnibel who had been the teachers pet for several years and who wore pastel colours on the daily, turned to Marceline with a dark and teasing smile. "Sure you don't." If Marceline hadn't have been so ill her brain would've picked up on exactly what Bonnibel was saying. Instead, she just sneezed into her duvet. "You're weird. Are you having a study group over again?"
It was the only logical explanation for Bonnibel being home early; she usually worked late on the days she didn't have a study group, and Marceline hadn't seen the usual gang surrounded by school work in a while.
"Of sorts. I have a girl from my chemistry lectures coming over." Bonnibel hummed as she disappeared into the bathroom, only to come back out for a towel seconds later. "She's due to come any minute so if you could shout her in that'd be great." The door was clicked shut.
It took longer than usual for Marceline to tap out of the weird pervy side of her brain that made her think about the fact that Bonnibel was getting undressed and stepping into the shower. Far too long. She'd gotten used to that side of her brain, though, the same intrusive side that told her to step out into heavy traffic or leap from a bridge. Yeah, exactly the same side.
Suddenly too warm (she blamed her fever rather than the naked Bonnibel imagery), she kicked off her mountain of blankets and stood on wobbly legs. Underneath her the floor felt like jelly, and as she took four steps towards the couch she almost tripped over her own feet.
The knock on the door made her sigh. Bonnibel's chemistry girl was far too on time for Marceline's liking, stepping over to the door with a hand outstretched in case she fell. She swung the door open and her eyes focussed on the brunette girl in front of her.
"Oh, you're not Bonnibel." Chemistry girl commented, eyes flicking from Marceline's face to the room beyond her. "I'm Brook, her study buddy? Is she here?"
"Yeah," Marceline nodded, her sore throat turning the word into a rasp. "She's showering at the moment. Come on in."
When Bonnibel had said that her and Brook were going to study Marceline had assumed that the goody two shoes would have kept to her word, not disregard the half finished essay to let the other girl braid her hair and tell her how smart she was.
It weirdly made Marceline seethe. She knew there was no need to get so… defensive over her friend, but watching as Brook stroked her fingers through Bonnibel's hair and praised that big brain of hers. It was most likely the fact that it used to be her playing with Bonnie's hair and telling her how much of a genius she was. Marceline decided that she disliked Brook.
"You were glaring at her," Bonnibel commented as soon as the door was closed, ridding the room of Brook and her wiles. "Jealousy isn't very becoming of you, Marceline." She said then, when all Marceline could do was roll her eyes and clamber back into her blankets.
Marceline snorted in reply and reached at the bottom of the bed for her laptop. "Not jealous. Just… cautious. She set my radar off."
"You think she's gay?" Bonnibel teased, all too naturally nudging Marceline to the side so she could settle beside her on her bed. "Or are we talking about your obvious jealousy radar?"
"Not gay," Marceline shook her head no. At least… she hoped Brooke wasn't gay. If Bonnibel had invited her over just then as a date… it made Marceline's stomach squirm in discomfort. "Too… straight."
"Relax, jealous." Bonnibel continued, resting her head on Marceline's shoulder. "I'm not replacing you as best friend. She's just my designated lab partner and she sits next to me for the lectures."
Marceline nodded and picked a movie from netflix without being told. And then a thought came to her mind. "But if she was…?"
"But if she was gay you'd still be my best friend and she'd still be my lab partner, Marceline." Bonnibel soothed, rubbing a hand on Marceline's arm. The other girl just exhaled slowly. "Geez, you really were jealous weren't you?"
"Not jealous." Marceline repeated, glancing down at Bonnibel. "Just… you mean a lot to me," She blushed when Bonnibel peered up at her with a small smile. She could've sworn Bonnibel's eyes flicked downwards for a split second, too, but the sleep and illness that fogged her brain was messing with her vision. "I don't like the thought of someone new coming in all of a sudden to take you away. Even with our friends I know that you'll be coming home with me and you'll be watching a movie with me and… I don't know, it's nice to be assured by stuff like that." It didn't cross her mind how possessive that sounded until Bonnibel opened her mouth to respond.
"I'm not just for you, Marceline," It almost sounded stern, but Marceline knew her too well to know that the reason for her thick voice was sleep. "But… I get it. Your mum died and I left and you've got me back again, that must be a weird mix between euphoria and misery." And then she sighed, their closeness causing hot air to blow against Marceline's chin. Marceline can't remember the last time they'd been this close; the inches between them filled with comfort and familiarity. "I guess that explains your enviousness though."
Marceline went to open her mouth, but Bonnibel had lifted her head to peer up at her and then there really wasn't that much space between them at all. If Marceline ghosted closer her nose would trace Bonnibel's cheekbones, and closer than that would tickle skin with eyelashes, and ever closer still would mould lips against lips and-
Bonnibel's phone began ringing from her bedside table. It pained Marceline to watch as Bonnibel peeled herself away, pick up the phone and answer with an amazingly sweet 'hello'. It pained her more when Bonnibel sat herself down on her bed, telling the caller that yes, she absolutely could talk right no and no she wasn't doing anything important.
Marceline just grabbed another tissue from the box on the floor, blowing her sore nose into the soft fabric and willing herself to focus on the film playing out in front of her. Sleep didn't come easy that night.
Marceline blamed everything but Bonnibel falling asleep in her own bed.