"I'm tired," Bonnie blinked at her unfinished essay, staring at the little blinking text cursor. "But I don't like leaving things unfinished."
"I don't get how you're already working on that literature paper," Marceline glanced over at her from where she was sprawled out on Bonnie's bed, ukulele in hand. She'd brought a sleek black ukulele over and had been playing soft little melodies as Bonnie worked. "We literally got it set today. And it's not due in for another two weeks."
"So I assume you'll start working on it in a week and six days," Bonnie rolled her eyes, still staring at her laptop screen, "I like to get at least a solid first draft done in advance, and then I can distance myself from it and read it more critically later."
Marceline frowned at her, and Bonnie could tell she thought that was overkill. "Well, you were right when you said I won't be starting on it until the night before. I work better under pressure."
Bonnie snorted. "Have you ever allowed yourself to work not under pressure?"
"No comment," Marceline flashed a toothy, sheepish grin, "Seriously, though, save it and work on it tomorrow if you're tired. I want cuddles."
Admittedly, cuddling with Marceline was a very tempting alternative. She looked longingly at the word count, because she only needed one more paragraph and had the points laid out in her plan. If she worked hard, she could get it all written tonight, and maybe even start on that science work they'd been set too. But she knew what happened when she let herself spiral, so she saved the document and closed the lid of her laptop, joining Marceline on the bed.
She laid back against her pillows, and Marceline laid horizontally, her head rested on Bonnie's stomach and her ukulele held up to her chest. Her legs were hanging off the side of Bonnie's little bed, but she seemed comfortable enough.
Bonnie smiled, and like always, her hand gravitated to playing with Marceline's hair. "Hi."
"Hey," Marceline smiled up at her, green eyes sparkling, "you seem happy to be back with tons of schoolwork to do."
Bonnie hummed, partially in confirmation. "I'm happy for a multitude of reasons. That's one of them, but my very beautiful girlfriend is the top of the list."
"Oh, damn, Bon," Marceline laughed, "stop flirting with me, dork. I'm not into you like that."
"Sure you aren't," Bonnie said, peppering her words with sarcasm, "You totally weren't begging me for cuddles five minutes ago."
"Okay, I didn't beg," Marceline scoffed, "I just… let you know I was in the mood."
"Nothing new there, then," Bonnie commented, and Marceline just blushed in a silent confirmation of what she'd said. "I think it's cute that you like being held so much. I would never have expected it from you, at least not until I realised how much of a marshmallow you really are. Hah, I should call you Marshmeline."
Marceline let out a loud groan that half sounded like a no. "Nope, no way. Call me that and I'll break up with you."
Bonnie laughed, "Oh, so you can go around calling me princess and brainlord, but I can't give you an annoying nickname? You've got the authority on all of those?"
"Mhm, that's how this works, Bon-Bon," Marceline said, "I annoy you, you put up with it."
Bonnie rolled her eyes. "At the risk of you breaking up with me, I'll put the Marshmeline thing on the back burner."
"Good," Marceline stuck her tongue out and strummed a couple of chords, "because I would've been out of that door at like, superspeed."
Bonnie hummed as she plucked the strings on her ukulele, "I love that you've been keeping your power of superspeed from me this entire time."
"Well, duh, you would've dissected me for science," Marceline rolled her eyes, but when she met Bonnie's gaze, she laughed, "Wanna hear the sappy song I'm working on?"
"Of course," Bonnie smiled, "I wonder who inspired it."
"Don't get cocky, Bon," Marceline laughed, strumming a pretty sounding chord. She cleared her throat, hummed a note, and then strummed the chord she'd been playing before. "I know we'll never grow old together, 'cause you'll never grow old to me, you're the pink in my cheeks, and I love that it means I'm a little bit soft."
She was blushing as the final chord rang out, and Bonnie knew she was blushing too. Naturally, before she could say anything about how just that little part of the song had made her feel, Marceline was rambling.
"It's really rough, obviously, because I've only just started working on it, but…"
Bonnie leaned down and pulled her in for a kiss. Against her lips, she whispered, "It's amazing, darling. Just like you."
Marceline blushed, putting her ukulele aside in favour of sitting up and kissing Bonnie again. Bonnibel wondered if Marceline knew how good of a kisser she was, or if it was something nobody ever really knew about themselves. Regardless, when Marceline pulled away, she pulled her back with a murmured, "Did you know you were an amazing kisser?" but didn't give her chance to answer before kissing her again.
Between kisses, Marceline said, "I've," kiss, "been," kiss, "told." Kiss. Bonnie took that information in as she let her teeth graze Marceline's bottom lip in a question, which her girlfriend answered by letting her lips part for Bonnie's tongue, her hand gripping the collar of Bonnie's shirt in her fist.
The next time Bonnibel pulled back for air, she decided to get her revenge. She kissed Marceline just off the corner of her mouth, down to her jaw, trailing soft kisses down her neck, pausing kiss that scar there and to leave her mark not once, but twice. She heard the way Marceline sucked in a sharp breath, felt how her grip on Bonnie's shoulders tightened as Bonnibel slipped a hand under her shirt to pull her closer by the waist, and Bonnie practically fell in love with that absolutely wonderous little whine Marceline let out as Bonnie's fingers grazed over her chest.
There was a loud bang and the sound of ukulele strings, and they jumped apart in shock. Breathlessly, Marceline looked at the ukulele on the floor and said, "It fell."
Bonnie laughed quietly, but she was much more interested in the two red marks blossoming against brown skin. She traced her fingers over Marceline's neck and said, "Good luck explaining that to people."
Marceline rolled her eyes, "Keila knows we're together, Guy and Bongo couldn't care less, my brother probably knows too and nobody else cares, so… it's not like you with your weird, invasive friends."
"Well, whatever," Bonnie shrugged. She looked over her girlfriend and wondered if she should kiss her again, but the mood seemed to have changed. "Pyjama time?"
Marceline glanced over at the clock on Bonnie's bedroom wall and nodded. "Yeah. I guess so. I am kind of tired after waking up at the ass crack of dawn for school."
"Ass crack of dawn," Bonnie repeated with a laugh, "nice use of the English language."
"Why thank you, dear Bonnibel," Marceline sarcastically responded, pushing herself up from the bed and rooting around in her overnight bag for her pyjamas. Bonnie's were already out, left folded neatly on top of her pillow. Naturally, they consisted of the rock t-shirt that Marceline had given her and a pair of purple flowery shorts.
She spread them out, and she was just about to tell Marceline that she'd change in the bathroom when the older girl merely pulled her t-shirt off and unbuttoned her jeans. As she pulled her pyjama shorts on, she met Bonnie's gaze, and must've assumed that Bonnie was uncomfortable from the redness in her freckled cheeks.
Marceline grabbed her pyjama shirt. "Oh, did you want me to change in the bathroom?"
"No, no, it's-" Bonnie stammered, because she really couldn't concentrate with someone so beautiful in front of her. "It's fine, I just- I think, I probably will. Sorry."
She quickly bundled up her pyjamas and glanced towards the bathroom door anxiously. Marceline still hadn't put a shirt on.
"Hey, it's okay, don't apologise," Marceline sat down next to her with a smile, and Bonnie had to put full brainpower to the fact that she was wearing only her pyjama shorts and a sports bra. "Just because I'm comfortable changing around you, it doesn't mean you have to feel the same way, you know? No big deal."
Bonnie sighed. Why did she have to be so perfect and understanding? "It's not necessarily that I don't feel comfortable. It's more… more like I don't feel adequate?"
Marceline frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean… look at you," Bonnie waved a hand and gestured over her. Marceline was physically perfect. Practically the definition of beauty. "You're… you know."
Marceline raised her eyebrows and let out a quiet laugh. "I'm not following, but hopefully you know doesn't mean horrendously ugly."
"No, no," Bonnie quickly waved that off, even though it was a joke. She looked her over again, partially because she couldn't help herself. "I mean, you're basically perfect. You're so beautiful, and your body is… wow from all that running you do. And I guess that kind of intimidates me?"
Marceline was blushing, and Bonnie found it endlessly adorable. "You… you think that?"
"Well, yeah. Go look in a mirror, it'll back me up," Bonnie said, before she sighed and laid back against the pillows. "I just… have you ever felt insecure about the way you look? I realise that's probably a stupid question, because every teenage girl probably has, but… have you?"
Marceline laid back next to her, tangling their fingers together. "Honestly… no. Not really. Like, beauty and attractiveness is basically the most subjective thing on the planet, and not everyone is going to find you attractive regardless of how many societal beauty standards you check off the list. Even if you check off none of those boxes, there's still going to be some weirdo out there who's into what you've got going on. Luckily for me, I found mine, so I'm all set."
Bonnie laughed at her little joke. "I don't know. That's kind of the intimidating thing, the fact that you check off all the boxes. It's no wonder you've never worried about it."
Marceline just shrugged. "I think physical appearance is so trivial anyway, because we're all going to end up all old and wrinkly and looking like a bunch of raisins, so what's the point in worrying about it? Besides, I've always just had other stuff going on that I had to worry about. Freaking out about something that I can't even change anyway just seems dumb."
Other things to worry about. The words sank in, and Bonnie realised what they meant, but she knew how Marceline felt about talking about it. "I guess that's probably the best philosophy to have. I've honestly never really worried about it until I had someone to worry about it for, if that makes sense? All I really focused on before moving here was school and grades. And then I came here, and met you, and because I know how attractive you are, it kind of makes me wonder if I'm on the same level."
"You're not on the same level," Marceline said flatly, "you're on the ultimate level that consists of only you, up there being pretty."
Bonnie's stomach fluttered with butterflies, and she let out a little laugh. "Well, admittedly, you're rather biased."
"Oh my god, Bonnie," Marceline rolled her eyes, "The first thing I thought when I met you was wow, she's beautiful."
Bonnibel sat up in surprise, and Marceline's head flopped from her shoulder and onto the pillow. She blinked and pouted at the sudden loss of cuddles, but Bonnie was too astounded to apologise. "Wait, what? Really?"
"Yeah," It came out as half a laugh, and half sarcastic, and she was rolling her eyes as she pushed herself up onto an elbow, "Dad was being an ass that morning and he left this note to tell me to go to his classroom for a word when I got to school. Naturally, when I went in, he wasn't even there, but you were. Sat in your front row seat, looking all cute with your big glasses and your adorable little dress. And I was like, damn, I don't know her, but wow."
All Bonnie managed to say was another, "Really?"
Marceline hummed in affirmation. "Yup. And then when I saw Keila in English class, all she kept talking about was this new British girl who was supposed to be starting school, and that we should show you around."
Bonnie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And yet… you didn't."
"Pretty girls make me nervous, okay?" Marceline poked her in the arm, and when Bonnie blushed, she leaned in and kissed her cheek, "And you're the prettiest girl, so obviously I was going to be extra nervous."
"Okay, okay, stop chatting me up," Bonnie laughed, "I just love that you went from she's pretty to I don't like her."
"Well, I'm getting to that part in the story, if your annoying ass will let me finish," Marceline stuck her tongue out rather childishly, and Bonnie just smiled at her. She was so cute. "So, anyway, we eventually ran into you at lunch, and you wanted to know which way your class was. You kinda looked at me funny and it made me freak out a little bit, so I was like, gotta go, bye. And then when I got home, dad wouldn't shut up about how perfect you were and how much I sucked in comparison, so… I decided I didn't care how pretty you were; I wasn't going to like you. And I kinda figured you already didn't like me, so..."
Bonnie cringed. "I knew you noticed that. My friends told me some stuff."
"I figured," Marceline shrugged, and when Bonnie opened her mouth to apologise, she quickly said, "Before you get all apologetic about it, it's okay. You know that none of it was true, even before you knew."
"I know, but I still feel bad for listening to rumours and being judgemental," Bonnie pulled her in for a tight hug and murmured, "The same thing happened to me, so I should've known not to do it to you."
Marceline hugged her back, "It's really okay, though. Anyway, my entire point from that whole dramatic retelling of when I first saw you, was that I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And that includes Hayley Williams from Paramore, so…"
Bonnie laughed, but admittedly, she felt a lot better. "Okay, well, since we're communicating so well and everything, there's something else I want to talk over with you."
"I'm listening," Marceline said, laying back against the pillows again. She still hadn't felt the need to put a shirt on and Bonnie had to resist the urge to lean down and kiss her toned stomach. "Talk to me."
"I guess it's another insecurity of mine, but since you cleared the first one up so well…" Bonnie bit down on her bottom lip. She felt awkward talking about it. "Does it bother you that I'm not… experienced? With… you know."
"Sex?" Bonnie blushed at Marceline's bluntness. "Wait, is that why you were worried about the way you look? Because I haven't tried to start anything like that?"
She'd hit the nail right on the head, and Bonnie just mumbled a quiet, "Yes," before ducking her head and looking anywhere but Marceline. Admittedly, she would be okay with doing those things with her – more than okay – but she didn't know how to initiate that. Marceline was the experienced one, and the way she never tried to do anything more than kissing had made her a little bit nervous.
"Oh, Bonnie," Marceline laughed, "dude, no. I just didn't know what you were ready for and didn't want to pressure you, you know? Especially since it's going to be your first time. I want it to be perfect for you like you deserve. Plus, I kinda like it when a girl takes control. But don't tell Keila that last part, she'll never let me hear the end of it."
"Oh. Okay. Well. Good to know," Bonnie knew she was probably blushing, "Um. Yeah. I'm glad we had this talk, then. Communication is important."
"Mhm," Marceline laughed, but then her gaze softened and she said, "that's true, actually. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about the stuff you're worrying about, even if it's about me."
"I hope you feel the same way," Bonnie said, and then added, "actually, if there's anything you wanted to talk to me about… now is a good time."
Marceline let out a quiet hum, frowning in thought, as if she was trying to think of something. Eventually, the hum died out into, "Nah, I can't think of anything. I guess I don't really worry about stuff like that, but that's probably a good thing. If we both constantly worried how the other felt, we'd probably crash and burn."
She has a point, Bonnie thought to herself. The way Marceline was always so laid back about everything balanced out Bonnie's inner worrier and control freak. "I'm envious of the way you're always so laid back and chill about everything. I probably need to learn from you in that respect. Learn to be more… okay when things are uncertain."
"I don't know. People respond to things in different ways. Maybe it's like, an inherent response, and just the way you are." Marceline shrugged, and when she took her hand, she squeezed it softly. "Besides, I don't mind talking you down when you're worrying about something."
Bonnie smiled. "Well, thank you, Marcy. It surprises me, actually. How chill you are. Especially for someone so emotional. I don't think I've ever seen you legitimately angry."
"Dude, don't call me emotional, that makes me sound like a big baby," Marceline scrunched her nose up in disgust. Bonnie had to resist the urge to tease her and tell her she was a big baby. "Anger is one of those things that like… I don't know. Everyone feels it, obviously. I just don't like to act on it, and it's really hard to get me to the point where I'm going to forget that rule and act on it anyway. I told you I went through an angsty phase, right?"
Bonnie snorted, "And I told you that your whole life is an angsty phase."
"Funny," Marceline rolled her eyes, "but for real, it was more than just like, shaving half my hair off and wearing exclusively black. It was kind of the whole act out for attention phase. I'm actually really glad you weren't around to see it. I didn't like, explain that when I mentioned it because it was like, first date and everything. Was kind of trying to impress you and I honestly liked that you didn't know. But I trust you, and I know you won't judge me on it."
"Oh," Bonnie realised guiltily, "Sorry for making fun."
"No worries, brainlord," Marceline flashed that teasing grin, and Bonnie knew she wasn't bothered, "Well, it was the point where I kind of… let anger take over. And I was angry. Angry that I'd lost mom, angry about dad being the worst kind of asshole, angry that I couldn't do anything about it. So, I acted out. Stopped caring about school; let my grades slip, didn't show up most of the time, and when I did, I never put any effort in. Broke pretty much every single rule I could. Started drinking, and smoking, tobacco and weed. Tried coke once too and that probably takes the cake for the stupidest thing I've ever done. I still drink sometimes, because everyone's got a vice, but you know. There were already a lot of nasty things going around about me because of the various injuries I'd show up with and I probably didn't help it with the way I acted then, but in some messed up way, it was kind of a cry for help. Keila stuck by me, because she's just that good, but no matter what she said to me, I wouldn't listen. It was like the only thing I could listen to was this irrational anger. I was just this toxic mess of a person."
Bonnie couldn't help but hug her. She pulled her in, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, letting Marceline cuddle into her shoulder. She wanted to question why nobody had seen it happening, but Bonnibel herself had believed everything her friends had told her about Marceline before she knew her.
"I met Ash right in the middle of all of that. I would've been… fifteen? Nearly sixteen." Marceline said, "He was just as angry as I was about whatever was going on in his head and all it did was fuel the flames of my inevitable self-destruction. I don't think either of us ever actually liked each other. I think we were just drawn to the other's recklessness, and I just got worse while I was with him. The first time we broke up was pretty much the final nail in the coffin of anyone other than Keila or Simon ever thinking that I was a good person. It was when he still went to our school, before he graduated. We were in the hallway, and he said something about my mom that I don't want to repeat. I think it was his idea of a fucked-up joke, but..."
She looked so sad, and so worried, that Bonnie kissed her cheek and murmured, "I think you're a good person."
Marceline let out a long, tired sigh. "I'd never felt that angry before, Bonnie. When he said what he said. It was like my body acted before my brain and I punched him. It just happened, and I was completely disgusted with myself, because if I'd done that, then I was nothing better than my dad. For everyone else, it was just confirmation of all these things they already thought, but for me it was a big moment of self-awareness that I needed, and it was a wake-up call. I could keep going down the destructive path I was going down because I was letting anger control me. Or I could control it and try to be better. Break the cycle of abused becoming abusive. Because I'm terrified that I've got too much of him in me."
That was why she'd cried, Bonnie realised, when she'd told her she had her mother's heart. She held Marceline tighter, and tried to let that same telepathic message seep through her skin.
"So, I stopped acting out and started trying. Kept my head down in school, stuck with Keila, started the band with the guys. Channelling my energy into creativity, instead of destruction. And I'm not saying I just woke up and felt better one day, it was… a lot of trial and error. It still is. I never should've gotten back with Ash the second time, let alone the third, but it was like… any time I felt bad about myself, I'd go back. Keila was right when she said we were just using each other for sex, because it was better to feel something than nothing, you know?"
It was a rhetorical question, and Bonnibel let Marceline say her piece. "But then… then this annoying British nerd showed up, and as much as I tried not to like her, she wriggled her way into my heart. And even though she barely knew me, and I'd never given her any reason to be kind, she told me I could do better than Ash. She showed compassion when she thought that a major douche-canoe might be hurting me and opened my eyes to the possibility that he could've, given the chance. She looked at me and saw good, even though I tried to push her away, and I'll always be grateful to her for that."
Bonnie sighed against her, kissing the top of Marceline's head. "I think she's grateful for you too. You saved her from a lot of emotional trauma and internalised homophobia. You make her smile and make her feel beautiful. She doesn't appreciate being referred to as an annoying British nerd, but she does appreciate you."
Marceline laughed softly. "Okay, how about pretty British nerd?"
"She can accept that," Bonnie considered, squeezing Marceline around the middle. "Seriously, though, thank you for opening up to me about that. And if anything, that just proves that you're nothing like your dad, the fact that you try to be the best you can be."
"It can be hard sometimes, especially when people are annoying," It was a joke, but she sighed after and said, "Really, though, it can be hard. Especially when it's dad trying to get a rise out of me. But that's what he wants, and I'm not going to give that to him. I won't be like him, and I think I'm determined – or stubborn – enough for that. That's why it meant a lot to me, what you said about me being like mom. Makes it more real, that someone else sees that. Because lately, when I look in the mirror, I don't see him. I see her. And that… that makes me really happy. And I hope she's proud of me, wherever she is."
"Wherever she is," Bonnie said, "I know she's proud of you."
She met teary green eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Marceline sighed against her again but leaned in and pulled her in for a real kiss. When she pulled away, she flashed a genuine, albeit watery, smile. "Thanks, Bonnie."
"Don't thank me. I told you. You never need to thank me for anything." Bonnie squeezed her hand and regrettably pulled away to stand up, picking up the bundle of pyjamas, "Now, I need to change, and then we're going to watch a movie, okay?"
Bonnie didn't even think about it twice when she pulled her shirt off to change.
