It was quite nice, having Marceline as some kind of temporary roommate.
Bonnie didn't like to dwell on the temporary status, because she knew sooner or later, Marceline would go home. To her dad. The thought was terrifying, and she knew she'd be sick with worry, but she didn't want to show it. Marceline had asked her not to be weird about it, and Bonnie was sure that texting her every fifteen minutes to ask how she is would be classified as weird.
Right now, she was just trying to enjoy her company, regardless of the reason she was there in the first place. It probably wasn't healthy – having Marceline around so much felt like she was entertaining some delusion of a faux relationship – but she didn't care. Her schoolgirly feelings towards her best friend weren't as important as keeping said best friend safe.
If someone had zapped back in time a decent number of months and told then-Bonnie that Marceline Abadeer was a considerate house guest, she'd have laughed in their face. But it was the truth. She made Bonnie tea without her having to ask, which was basically the indication of a perfect person. When Bonnie got a little burnt out from socialising and wanted to do some revision, Marceline occupied herself by playing pretty music on her bass and humming little melodies. It was extremely soothing, and sometimes Marceline would sing lyrics along with whatever she was playing and Bonnie's pen would pause on the paper, her attention well and truly grabbed. That was just how it was; when Marceline sang, Bonnibel listened.
(Granted, Marceline pretty much always had her attention, but still.)
The nights were her favourite part of it all. Because Bonnie only had a tiny little single bed with no room for personal space, she'd spent the past three nights sleeping with Marceline pressed up against her, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest as Bonnie held her while the older girl held Hambo. Bonnie always made the point to hold her and tried her best to be gentle, because she wanted to reinforce positive touch. There was probably a scientific journal she could hide behind if Marceline ever questioned that.
(Really, though, she just wanted to cuddle her.)
On the fourth day, despite Bonnie being certain that she'd packed Marceline enough clothing for a week, she walked back into her bedroom after making a cup of tea to find that Marceline had thrown one of Bonnie's jumpers on over the red turtlenecked crop top and extremely short shorts she'd been wearing. It was one of Bonnie's favourites; the white one with the two red and yellow stripes and blue stripes on the sleeves.
Marceline was casually strumming on her bass and humming a melody, and she didn't stop playing when Bonnie asked, "Is that my jumper?"
"Not anymore," Marceline sang it along with the bassline she was playing and then looked up at her with a sheepish grin, "I would apologise, but you stole my t-shirt, so…"
"So…" Bonnie continued for her, "you decided to take your pick from my closet?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Marceline said, plucking the lowest string on her bass. The note rang out and she asked, "Wanna hear this thing I've been playing around with?"
"Always," Bonnie sat down on the bed next to her, and she had to admit that Marceline looked good in her jumper. Actually, she should probably be annoyed, because she thought that Marceline pulled it off better than she did. Because she was a little bit slimmer and Bonnie had already bought the jumper a size up, it had a fashionable oversized look and revealed the light brown shoulder and red crop top underneath. It didn't help that Marceline was just hot, too. "Play for me."
Marceline played a bassline she recognised slightly – she'd been toying around with it, tweaking the notes for the last few days – and hummed a melody along with it. When the last note rang out, she said, "I don't have lyrics yet, just the general melody, but sometimes the music comes first. I'm thinking that for the verse, though. Then switching to this," Marceline played a slightly shorter, altered version, "for the pre-chorus."
"Well, as your biggest fan," Bonnie said, her stomach fluttering at Marceline's blush, "I'm sure the finished product will be amazing. Just like you."
She kissed Marceline's cheek after adding that last part, right above the almost-faded bruise on her jaw. It was probably selfish of her to keep doing that kind of thing, but she couldn't find it in her to stop. She also couldn't find it in her to tell Marceline how she felt – it didn't feel right, to drop that on her when she had other things to deal with.
"Oh, stop," Marceline rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were tilted up into a smile, "You're obviously biased. As my biggest fan and all."
"Biased or not, you're still amazing," Bonnie said like it was fact, but honestly, it was. "Anyway… how's your rib feeling?"
"It's okay. Still stings a little bit, but…" Marceline shrugged, "I'll be fine. Always am."
Bonnie couldn't resist reaching out to brush her hair back from her face and pressing yet another kiss to her cheek. It was okay. It could be read as platonic. "Do you want me to go and get you some painkillers?"
"Nah. It's okay." Marceline said, and Bonnie couldn't detect any hint of dishonesty in green eyes, so she nodded. "Actually, I think… I think I might go home tonight."
Bonnie felt a knot in her throat. She knew it was coming, obviously. Marceline had woken up yesterday feeling a lot better, and Bonnie had expected it then. She'd still dreaded it. "Oh. I- are you sure?"
"Yeah," Marceline plucked another bass string, and because it was obvious how Bonnie was feeling, she sent her a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, okay? It'll be fine."
Bonnie frowned, "He won't be angry that you just left?"
"He won't care, not about that," Marceline said, and when Bonnie didn't look any more reassured, she threw an arm around her shoulder. "Look, I know you're worried, but it's all okay. And like I said, I can't just camp out here forever. As much as I love your company."
Bonnie sighed, and tentatively rested her head on Marceline's shoulder, "I guess I just don't want you to be alone with him."
Marceline shrugged. "Marshall will be home."
"That's what you thought when he did this to you," Bonnie said, her fingers carefully touching Marceline's rib through the jumper, "and I just feel like something bad is going to happen if you go back there."
"I gotta go back at some point and sooner is better than later. I told you, this isn't a solution," Marceline replied, "and it's not every time I'm left alone with him. Most of the time he ignores me as much as I ignore him. As long as I keep out of his way, I'm fine. But if you're so freaked out, come back with me."
The offer placated her, and Bonnie nodded. It was a compromise. She knew it was probably only valid for one night and that she couldn't act as Marceline's personal bodyguard until she left home, but it still made her feel better. It bought her time to figure out an actual solution, one that didn't involve supposedly 'messing up Marshall's life'. "Alright. Yes."
Marceline smiled again, "The protective look is hot on you, Bon."
Bonnie choked in surprise, because that's the last thing she ever expected Marceline to say. If she noticed the effect her words had had on Bonnibel, Marceline didn't comment, merely went back to playing her bass like she hadn't just called Bonnie hot.
"I- um, thanks?" Bonnie stammered in reply, and she caught Marceline's knowing smile as she stood up to walk over to her desk. "I'm going to- um, do some… some maths."
"Maths." Marceline chuckled lightly. "Okay, dork."
She stared down at one of the exercises in her textbook, but she wasn't really looking at it. What if she just said it, right now? What if she told Marceline you're hot too, go out with me? But then she was best friends with her, and what if it was just platonic, joke flirting? She'd seen Marceline joke-flirt with Keila before, and they'd both made it clear that the idea of any type of romance with each other would be gross.
Bonnie knew she had a habit of overthinking things, and there was so much evidence pointing towards Marceline liking her back. If this were a science experiment, she'd have pretty conclusive evidence to prove her initial hypothesis. There were some outliers, of course, but there always were. She wouldn't be questioning anything, if she looked at it like science. But Bonnibel knew science, she understood it. Marceline was unpredictable and hard to pin down.
"Hey, Marcy?" Her mouth worked before she could stop it. The low hum of the bassline Marceline was playing ceased and she looked up expectantly. "Do you… actually, no, never mind."
Marceline frowned at her. "Do I what?"
Bonnie bit down on her bottom lip to trap the stupid question inside. She couldn't ask. Not without making her interest obvious. But naturally, the question fell out anyway. "Do you like anyone? In like… that way?"
Marceline's perfect eyebrows shot up to her hairline in surprise. "What?"
"I- never mind," Bonnie said again, glancing back at her worksheet with renewed but still feigned interest. "It doesn't matter, I was just curious."
Marceline hummed in reply. "Well. I do. Hope that answer satisfies."
I do. It rang in Bonnie's head, over and over. It hadn't satisfied, just prompted more questions. The main one being is it me?
Bonnibel sighed to herself. Things would've been much easier if Marceline had just said yeah, I like you. In fact, her answer had only sown more doubts. Bonnie wasn't exactly subtle, and she'd obviously been asking for a reason. If Marceline liked her, then why wouldn't she just come out and say it?
She opened her mouth to ask. To basically demand a confession of something from Marceline. But instead, all that came out was, "Are you going to be okay for the concert and our New York trip next weekend?"
"Huh?" Marceline looked up from her bass again and blinked in surprise. It probably wasn't the question she was expecting to be asked. It wasn't the question Bonnie thought she'd be asking, either. "I guess so. Just no hardcore moshpits for me. They're not really that kind of band, anyway."
"I listened to some of their music," Bonnie admitted; she didn't want to be entirely unprepared. "I liked the acoustic ones a lot, actually."
"That EP is how I found them," Marceline replied, "thank god for YouTube recommendations. I like pretty much all music genres, but if I was told I could only listen to one thing for the rest of my life… female fronted rock bands. Any day. Women do rock way better."
Bonnie laughed. "Women do everything way better."
"You're biased, but…" Marceline hummed in thought, "definitely not wrong."
"I'm never wrong," Bonnie said, "surely you knew that by now?"
Marceline smiled that stupidly soft, adorable smile, and Bonnie wondered yet again if that was just for her. She was looking at her with a certain gentleness in her green eyes that Bonnie never saw when Marceline looked at Marshall or Keila. "Well, yeah. You are a genius, after all."
Bonnie blushed, abandoning her attempt at maths work and moving to get herself comfortable on her bed next to Marceline. She leaned over and kissed her cheek again, because she could never stop herself from doing that. "Thanks, you goof."
She rested her head on Marceline's shoulder, taking extreme care and making sure she was gentle. "Play something for me. A cover or whatever. I just want to listen to you sing."
"Alright," Marceline plucked a random note on the bass, "any requests?"
Bonnie hummed in thought and remembered prom. Remembered the way she'd felt when she realised which song Marceline had been singing. She beamed to herself. "Paper Rings?"
Marceline's cheeks were tinted pink, and there was a knowing smile on her face when she answered with, "Okay," and started playing.
She could tell that Bonnie was uneasy.
Marceline found a weird sense of hilarity in it. Really, she should be the one at unease being back here. She set off up the stairs, and Bonnie's gaze dropped to the bass case in her hand. Her rib still ached painfully, but she wasn't going to let Bonnie carry everything, and she didn't have much of a choice when Marceline just picked it up and stomped off.
"You really shouldn't be carrying that," Bonnie said as if she'd read her mind. "You should've let me take it."
"Nah. I'm fine," Marceline said, and it was only half a lie. She was relieved to put the heavy case down when she made it up to her room, but she didn't let it show. "You've got two backpacks to carry, anyway."
Bonnie dropped both the bags onto Marceline's bed as Marceline took her bass out of the case and put it back in its rightful place on the wall. She didn't comment on it as Bonnie grabbed the case and put it back into her closet for her.
"I don't like this," Bonnie said with a sigh as she sat down on the bed. Marceline watched her grab Hambo and cuddle him to her chest, and usually that would be her cue to say get off him, but she found it cute. Stupid crush. "I hope you know that. I'm not happy with you being here at all."
"Had to happen some time, but thanks for the sunshine and optimism, princess," Marceline retorted, sitting down next to her. Softening, she tried her best to comfort Bonnie. "Honestly, Bon, I'll be okay."
Bonnie exhaled. "I don't know what I'm going to do when I see your dad. I might have to kill him."
"I wouldn't hold you back," Marceline tried to joke, but if anything, Bonnie just looked even sadder. This was exactly why she didn't want her to know. "He can't know that you know, though. He'd flip. You can make as many subtle digs as you want – you know he will – but just… he can't know that you know. He already threatened me about it."
"What? When?" Bonnie's frown dipped into an angry glare. "God, seriously? I'll fucking kill him, Marcy, I swear."
Marceline blinked in surprise. That had taken her off guard. "Damn, Bonnie, I don't think I've ever heard you curse before."
"Only happens when I'm frustrated about something," Bonnie scowled down at her lap, "I just really hate him. And part of me hates myself for the period of time where I liked him and didn't like you."
Marceline snorted with laughter. It wasn't intentional, it had just slipped out. "Bonnie, I basically told you I didn't like you and insulted you every time you glanced in my direction, so… I think we're good on that."
"I know, but…" There was a flicker of a smile on Bonnie's face, but it disappeared into the melancholy. "I know you said not to worry about it, but I feel really guilty for telling him you weren't pulling your weight on that first project. I was so stupid and selfish. It was because of me that he gave you a black eye and then I had to go and make you feel even worse about it by being a complete bitch and I just- how you ever started to like me after that, I've got no idea."
"Because it wasn't your fault and it never will be," Marceline ignored the tender ache in her rib and pulled Bonnie in for a hug. She heard the quiet sniffling and felt the stuttered rise and fall of Bonnie's chest and knew she was crying. "Oh, Bonnie, come on. Don't cry. I told you, that had nothing to do with you. And I like you because you're the sweetest, most caring, amazing person on the planet. Alongside Keila because I physically felt her psychic anger for a second there."
Bonnie looked up in surprise, tears still shining in her eyes, "Oh my god, Keila. Does she know?"
Marceline laughed, surprising herself completely when it wasn't tinted with bitterness. "If Keila knew, she'd be in prison right now for murdering my dad. She doesn't know anything. She's… she questioned me that time he broke my arm, but I'm good at hiding when I'm hurt. Most of the time it's just… it's never this serious."
Unconsciously, Marceline's hand touched her rib over her sweater. No, he never usually went that far. Wouldn't want to risk getting caught by nosey hospital staff, would he? Hunson was always careful to make sure it was something she could hide, and if not, something she could lie about. A black eye? You got in a fight, Marceline. If she was talking to Keila, she hit herself with her bass while jumping around. Simon? Cupboard door.
"She and I would have to share a cell as the captains of the Marceline defence squad," Bonnie murmured, pushing her hand under the bottom of her glasses to wipe her teary eyes. "It just makes me so angry because you're the last person who should ever go through anything like this. You're so good, and because of him, nobody gets to see it."
"You see it," Marceline shrugged, and Bonnie looked like she was about to cry again, "Hey, hey, no tears. I'm nothing to cry over."
"Yes you are," Bonnie mumbled, but she seemed like she was about to let the tears flow, "I just- I know you don't want to be separated from Marshall, but it's not like you're going to live with him forever."
"It's not just that. If he found out, it would kill him, Bonnie," Marceline ran a hand through her hair, a nervous tick of hers, "He really loves dad and looks up to him and finding out something like that would crush him. I can't take both of his parents from him."
Bonnie's head shot up, and Marceline realised what she'd said. "You don't want to leave because you think you deserve it. He's beaten it into you that it's your fault your mum died, when it's not. It had nothing to do with you, Marcy."
Marceline's mouth worked, and she tried to from some kind of lie or excuse. But really… Bonnie had it right. Her dad blamed her, and Marceline almost blamed herself, too. She couldn't meet Bonnie's gaze when she muttered, "What? No…"
"You told me," Bonnie's voice cracked, and Marceline whirled around to look at her again. "Right at the start of summer, you told me that he blamed you for it, and because of that, you blamed yourself. You can't let him get away with all of this just because you think it's your fault and it's some kind of punishment, Marcy. Because it wasn't your fault. It was the drunk driver that hit her, not you being at piano lessons. You can't blame yourself just because your hateful father does."
There was some rational part of her that knew that. The part that got so angry with her dad, the part that wanted to just run away right now and never look back. But the part of her that was weighed down with so much guilt for her mother always won. She forced out another lie. "It's not that. I just don't want to fuck things up for Marshall. Please don't cry, Bonnie."
"I just care about you so much," Bonnie ignored her and cried anyway, and Marceline pulled her close, feeling Bonnie's tears soaking through the shoulder of the sweater she'd stolen. "You're just- you mean so much to me and you don't even know."
Marceline held her close, and without thinking about it, she mumbled, "I think I might be starting to."
Bonnie sighed against her, and Marceline felt something shift between them, something that had always been there, just waiting for both of them to be ready. She felt Bonnie let a little half-hearted laugh tumble out, and heard her murmur, "Yes, I do make it rather obvious, don't I?"
"Maybe," Marceline hummed in reply, kissing the top of Bonnie's head. "But I do too, so I think it's okay."
Bonnie let out a sound that was half a laugh and half a cry. Her voice was still muffled by Marceline's shoulder when she admitted, "You know, I hadn't quite realised that until now."
"Yeah, I know. For someone so smart, you do miss the obvious a lot." Marceline smiled and nudged her lightly, "Now, get off me, you're getting your snot all over my new sweater."
Bonnie lifted her head up but stayed close by her. She sent her a playful scowl and corrected, "You mean my jumper which I am kindly allowing you to keep."
"Same thing," Marceline shrugged, "either way, it's mine now."
Bonnie sighed, but she was smiling, finally. "You're lucky I like you so much, you big meanie."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Marceline bumped shoulders with her comfortingly. After a few moments of comfortable silence, she could still sense Bonnie's worry. "I'm going to be fine, Bonnie. I promise."
"You'd better be. I'll be checking in with you every day to make sure." Bonnie answered, and when Marceline met kind blue eyes, she could see the care and emotion in them. "I need you at maximum capacity for our New York date next weekend."
She knew that the word choice was intentional and knew that Bonnie had felt the shift in dynamic too. She flashed a broad, elated grin, and answered, "I'll make sure to be at the top of my game, boss."
"Good." Bonnie pressed a kiss to her cheek, but not in the usual place. This time, she kissed her just off the corner of her mouth and tangled their fingers together. She still looked a bit concerned, but before Marceline could say anything, Bonnie just said, "Now, give me the remote for your TV. I'm making you watch Doctor Who."
Marceline laughed, and when Bonnie raised an eyebrow questioningly, she just smiled. "You're so British."
"You like it," Bonnie shrugged, "I know you do."
Marceline had no arguments there.
