"Do you want to go to the winter dance with me?"

Bonnie blinked at the question, frowning at her girlfriend when she sat down in the seat beside her in the library. They were in their favourite corner – the one right by the window, with the perfect view of the snowy football field. "What did you just ask me?"

"You, me, winter dance?" Marceline asked again, and Bonnie realised she hadn't imagined it. "We don't have to if you're not interested."

"No, no," Bonnie shook her head, "I actually… I'd really like that. I just didn't think you'd be interested."

"Usually I wouldn't be," Marceline admitted, telling her exactly what she thought she knew, "but since I'm going after Spring break, I won't be around for senior prom, and I was kind of planning on taking you to that. So, I figured I could take you to the winter dance instead. If we get bored we can always split, but… I don't know. I guess I just want you to get the whole, like… going to the dance with someone you like thing."

It was so sweet, but it wasn't unexpectedly so, because Bonnie just knew that Marceline was sweet. She put her hand on top of her girlfriend's and smiled. "Of course I want to go to the dance with you. Maybe we can actually slow dance."

Marceline blushed. "Yeah. I'd like that."

And just because the mental image she had in her head was mouth-watering, Bonnie asked, "Can I ask you to wear something specific, or is that against dance etiquette?"

Marceline hummed. "Depends what you have in mind."

"A suit. You looked… very attractive in that shirt and tie when you were playing at prom." Bonnie said, her face flushing as she remembered it. "The whole thing would be positively… delightful."

Marceline flipped open her chemistry textbook with a rather arrogant grin. "Delightful, huh?"

"Don't get too full of yourself," Bonnie warned her, scooting a little bit closer to try and remind herself which chapter they were working on today. Purely for that. She didn't have any ulterior motives that involved the way Marceline's body felt pressed up against hers. "It was merely a suggestion, anyway. Because you looked gorgeous in that dress you wore in New York. Actually, I've changed my mind."

Marceline raised her eyebrows. "You want me to wear a dress now?"

"No, I just don't like you anymore," Bonnie made sure to flash Marceline a smile so she knew she was joking, "You are annoyingly attractive. Tell me you had an awkward phase, Marcy."

Her annoyingly attractive girlfriend still looked adorably confused. "Uh… a what now? Awkward phase? What's that?"

"You know, an awkward phase. Usually happens pre-puberty but sometimes in the early stages, when a person is around twelve or thirteen. Most people have them." Bonnie defined, conveniently neglecting to mention her own awkward phase. Her school tormentors had enjoyed mocking her braces, back when she'd had them. They'd mocked her glasses, too, but Marceline seemed to think they were cute. "I'm going to be really mad with you if you've just been consistently cute your whole life. Because I already know you were cute as a button as a little kid from those home videos we watched."

"Um… I don't know," Marceline frowned in thought, "did you have an awkward phase?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Yes, but we're not going to talk about that."

"That's more interesting than chemistry, so yes we are," Marceline closed her textbook rather unceremoniously and looked at her expectantly. Bonnie had to lean forwards to kiss the little dimple in her cheek. "Don't distract me with kisses, Bon. I want to know about your awkward phase. It'll help me figure out if I had one too."

"It's kind of like a cringe phase for some people, but for others it's like… when you haven't really filled out yet," Bonnie said, but when Marceline wasn't distracted by that, she merely sighed. "Mine was braces and bad skincare habits. And in the summer months, immediate sunburn the moment I stepped outside. Oh, and the time I decided pink hair was a good look for me, which it wasn't."

Marceline laughed. "That's it? I was expecting you to tell me you were this like, eight-foot monster. Like… hold on, let me draw it."

She flicked open her notebook and started sketching whatever she had in her imagination, and when she pushed it over to her, Bonnibel had to admire her creativity. She'd drawn a rather large monster with crooked limbs and big bulging eyes, wearing Bonnie's dotted nightgown and round glasses. Naturally, Marceline had drawn a little princess tiara on the monster's head.

"As much as I admire your creativity, no," Bonnie laughed, pushing the book back over to her girlfriend. "It was bad, though. And my school uniform at the catholic school wasn't the most flattering, either. Well, to be fair, my school uniform at the public school in York wasn't the most flattering. Actually, school uniforms in general were never the cutest."

"You had uniforms?" Marceline snorted with laughter. "I have to see that. Do you have a picture?"

"I don't post on Facebook at all, and only really have it for connectivity, so no," Bonnie said, "and even if I did have pictures, I wouldn't be showing them to my annoyingly pretty girlfriend."

"Hey, you're annoyingly pretty, too," Marceline threw an arm around her shoulder and sent her that easy grin, "I think I had an awkward phase as well."

Bonnie beamed. Mostly because it was comforting to know she didn't have to match up to an ethereal goddess. "You did? Did you have braces? Unperfected skincare routine? Ooh, bad haircut? Bad fashion sense? Actually, scratch that last one, you're always quite fashionable in that alternative way you like to dress."

Marceline glanced down at her grey Metallica t-shirt with a frown. "I'll try not to take that as an insult."

"Oh, no, I like the whole punk rock thing you've got going on," Bonnie reassured her with a smile and a poke at her thigh through one of the rips in her black jeans. "It's attractive. Suits you. Answer my other questions, though."

"No braces, everyone gets pimples in middle school, depends on what you think a bad haircut is, and… I don't know," Marceline frowned, "I grew a little bit too fast upwards than I did in all the other places, so I was awkwardly scrawny for a while before I filled out. Like a noodle. Hah, I love the word noodle."

Bonnie stared at her flatly. "Scrawny with a couple of pimples? That's it? God, you're so annoying."

"What?" Marceline blinked, and when Bonnie just huffed, she laughed. "Are you seriously mad at me?"

"No, not legitimately, just…" Bonnie shook her head, chuckling to herself quietly, "Naturally, you'd be that perfect. Seriously, give me one flaw. Because otherwise I'm going to think you're some kind of mystical goddess from the land of perfect."

"Get building your time machine and travel back three years," Marceline said, "you'll see all the flaws you want."

"Your past doesn't matter to me," Bonnie said easily, her hand finding its way to the small of Marceline's back. She rubbed soft circles there and continued on. "Anyway, presently, I think you're pretty perfect. Definitely a mystical goddess from the land of perfect."

"We're from the same place, then?" Marceline said, and Bonnie appreciated just how smooth that was. "Got it. So, did you really have pink hair?"

Bonnie laughed. Of course she'd notice that. "Yes, I did. Only for a month or so, until the dye washed out. It was my one act of rebellion, to have a wacky hair colour. My parents were rather mad at me, considering I did it without their permission. I was twelve."

"Wow, I didn't know I was in the presence of such a rebel. I should probably go, I don't want you to be a bad influence on me or anything." Marceline said, with probably her entire day's supply of sarcasm. But then she just smiled and said, "Bet the pink looked cute on you, though."

"It wasn't really my style," Bonnie shrugged, and just out of curiosity, and also because she had a tiny suspicion, asked her, "Have you ever dyed your hair some crazy colour?"

Marceline's answer surprised her. "Nope."

"Wait, really?" Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "Well. I was expecting you'd say yes. Assumed that if you'd shaved half of it off at one point, you wouldn't be afraid to dye it a different colour."

"I just don't like the idea of dyeing it," Marceline shrugged, "because it's naturally black, I'd have to bleach it first to go to any other kind of colour, and that fries your hair. No thanks. Besides, black hair fits the whole punk rock thing I've got going on."

She was quoting Bonnie from before, and because she was annoying like that, she had to go and put on her fake English accent. It was annoying because it was actually a rather convincing one.

"At least you're acknowledging that I'm right, regardless of how you insist upon mocking my accent," Bonnie rolled her eyes, tapping Marceline's chemistry textbook, "Enough distractions. Let's get to work."

"Ugh, here's my flaw. Science." Marceline rolled her eyes. "And math. Gross."

Bonnie just laughed. "Good thing you're open to working on your flaws, then."

Even though it was just a stupid school dance, Marceline was nervous.

Maybe it was because tonight was basically a stand-in for their senior prom. Maybe she just wanted Bonnie to have the perfect night. Probably the latter. Disappointing Bonnibel was one thing she never ever wanted to do.

She knocked on the front door, and when it opened, her mouth worked. Bonnie was wearing a bespoke, beautiful, flowy white dress that accentuated her every curve. Her makeup had been done; not too dramatically, but more than her usual every-day routine of a little mascara and powder. Her hair looked like it had been done professionally, as it was curled instead of its usual straight appearance. She wasn't wearing her glasses, and she was squinting rather adorably at Marceline.

"Oh, you're not supposed to be here," Bonnie fumbled in her little clutch bag for her glasses, "I thought you were my friends, they helped me get ready, and they only just left, I thought maybe they'd forgotten something-"

"Bonnie," Marceline interrupted her cute rambling like she wasn't on rambling level nervous herself, "relax. It's just me."

Bonnie had located her glasses and was opening them up to put them on. "Yes, but you're there looking like that and I can't even see you properly because Elle told me to ditch my glasses."

"You were planning on strolling around blind all night?" Marceline laughed, "That's dumb. Besides, I love your glasses."

"I just… I don't know. I shouldn't have listened." Bonnie said, and when she finally took a look at her, the redness was rather evident in her pale, freckled cheeks. "Oh. You… wow. You look… wow."

"You look pretty wow too, nerd," Marceline said, finally revealing the bouquet of flowers behind her back, "These are for you. Violets. I thought about roses, but that's more of a Valentine's Day thing."

"Thank you, darling," Bonnie took the bouquet with a smile, and leaned in and pressed a kiss to Marceline's cheek, all in the motion of tugging her inside, "oh, you're lovely. Peter, can you get a vase for these?"

She passed the flowers to her little uncle, and he rushed off to do just that. Marceline felt Bonnie's arms wrap around her waist, and the redhead showed her that soft smile, the one that always made Marceline's heart clench and her stomach roll. "Is my pretty little florist going to tell me the meaning behind them, or should I google it later?"

She should've known Bonnie wouldn't let that one go. But instead of sighing rather dramatically, or making the usual sarcastic comment, Marceline just smiled and said, "In a poem, Sappho described herself and a lover wearing garlands of violets. So it kind of became a thing between sapphic women to give violets to each other, to show their love. They can also symbolise protection and healing, so it's kind of a dual meaning."

Bonnie pulled her in for another kiss, and when they parted, she murmured a quiet, "I love you."

"I love you too," Marceline said, keeping her fingers secured between Bonnie's, "so, are you ready to go?"

"Two minutes. We need pictures." Bonnie said, just as Peter came back with a camera in his hands. "Smile, darling. You have the prettiest one."

If that couldn't make her smile, Marceline didn't know what would. After a short photoshoot, where Bonnie half complimented her and half complained about how photogenic Marceline supposedly was, she pulled her out of the front door and towards the car.

"Get your uncle to send me those photos," Marceline said as she buckled her seatbelt, "I'll be making an Instagram post with the sole purpose of showing off my girlfriend."

"I suppose I ought to make an account on there," Bonnie said, humming along to the Ariana Grande song playing on the radio, "Keila showed me your profile and there are a holy number of selfies on there. I need to get it just to go and like all of them. And make sure everyone who follows you knows you're off limits."

Marceline lifted an eyebrow up, but admittedly, that possessiveness was pretty hot. Bonnibel made territorial look sexy. "They're all going to know anyway once I post the pictures from earlier. But okay. Go ahead."

Bonnie laughed. "Just don't post any videos of me attempting to dance. Fair warning, I don't actually know how to slow dance, so set your expectations low."

"I'm sure you'll catch on quick," Marceline shrugged, "You and your big brain. You'll get it in no time."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, my love," Bonnie smiled, and Marceline had to force herself to really focus on the road after that. My love. Way to try and give me a heart attack, Bonnie. "We don't have to stay for long if you don't want to. I'm not fussed, either. The only reason I stayed at the last dance so long was so I could go home with you."

That got her blushing even more. "Really?"

"Mhm. Marshall told me you would after I told him I fancied you," Bonnie said, and Marceline tried her best to hold back the little snicker. Fancied. "I heard you laughing, but I'll let that slide."

Even though she was trying to hold back all the jokes and just bring the romanticism, Marceline couldn't help herself. "You'll let it slide because you fancy me."

"Oh, shut it," Bonnie laughed, "though, I'm surprised it took you this long to poke fun at something I said. Usually you've already made at least three jokes about my accent by now."

Marceline blinked. She didn't realise that Bonnie had noticed. "Oh. Well, best behaviour, you know how it is. I'm trying to be romantic. So that's the only joke tonight."

Out of the corner of her eye, Bonnie sort of smirked. "Really? Well, that's interesting, isn't it, mate. You know, I'm really fancying some fish and chips right now. I'm a little bit knackered, though, the drive might send me up the apples and pears to bed. Though, I'd be quite chuffed if I woke up with a plate of fish and chips. That would get me out of any mardy mood."

"You're enjoying that, aren't you," Marceline rolled her eyes, when Bonnie just laughed innocently, "I also have no idea what you just said. Like, knackered? Chuffed? Mardy? What the hell?"

"It means tired," Bonnie laughed, "chuffed means pleased, mardy means irritable. But congratulations, you held it together. I guess you really are on your best behaviour tonight."

"Mhm," Marceline hummed in reply, and when Bonnie was quiet, she quickly added, "You know I think your accent and all of your little slang terms are cute, right? Like, I'm not actually making fun."

"I know, Marcy," Bonnie flashed her a small smile, "Don't you ever worry about that. Of course I know."

Marceline smiled to herself. "Good."

It didn't take them long to get to the dance, and akin to the 'best behaviour' and 'romanticism' theme that Marceline was trying to go for, she jumped out of the car the moment she parked and whirled around to the other side to open the door for Bonnie. She helped her out and offered her arm to the redhead with a soft smile. Bonnie bit down on her bottom lip in an attempt to contain her own rather lovesick grin, but it didn't work.

"Oh, you really are just perfect, aren't you?" Bonnie sighed, looping her arm through Marceline's. As they followed a few other groups of people towards the school, Bonnibel asked, "Is Keila coming tonight?"

"Nah. She's banned from school dances because she spiked the punch one time and got caught. Amateur." Marceline laughed. "Prom was an exception, because she'd be in Citron's line of sight the whole time, and when she was busy playing guitar, she didn't exactly have much time to sneak off and spike the punch."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows, raising her voice as they entered the loud gym. "By the way you said amateur, I'm going to assume you've been guilty of some punch-spiking yourself."

Marceline blushed. "You got me. Freshman year. Homecoming and the winter dance."

Bonnie tutted, but she had an amused smile on her face. "Not just once, but twice? I'd better watch out. I'm dating a professional punch spiker."

Marceline laughed. "You're really just poking fun at me because you know I won't retaliate, huh?"

Bonnie squeezed her arm. "Got to take the wins where I can get them, Marcy. Come on. Since Keila isn't here, we can spend time with my friends."

Marceline held back the eye roll or the mumbled complaints – half because she didn't actually think Bonnie's friends were that bad – and just answered with, "Okay. First slow song, though, you and I are dancing."

"No complaining about spending time with the nerds? Wow. I'm actually quite impressed." Bonnie smiled, kissing her cheek. "You know you don't have to be all soft and romantic. You can be your usual annoying self. I do like her quite a lot."

"I don't appreciate being called annoying," Marceline nudged her playfully, "but no. I want to. Besides, I like being all soft and romantic for you."

"Oh, Marcy," Bonnie murmured, and she blinked in surprise when her girlfriend practically flung herself on her in a hug. "I love you so much, you know?"

"Yeah," Marceline laughed into her shoulder, "I love you too. Come on, Lover is playing. That's perfect for our first dance."

Bonnie smiled as Marceline pulled her onto the dancefloor. She looked her up and down with a small frown, "I don't know where to put my hands."

"Put them on my shoulders," Marceline said, even though she'd never exactly taken a dance lesson before. "Come a little closer."

She took Bonnibel by the waist and pulled her in so she was pressed right against her front. Marceline kept one arm around her to keep her in place, and slowly guided Bonnie's hands up to her shoulders. The redhead smiled, and Marceline felt gentle fingers trace a heart at the nape of her neck.

Slowly, she began swaying them both to the music, resisting the urge to sing along. Bonnie sighed, resting her forehead against Marceline's and murmuring, "I suppose that's a perk of having a girlfriend who's basically the same height."

"I don't know, you're a little taller tonight in those heels," Marceline squinted at her and decided, "I don't like it."

Bonnie laughed, and Marceline felt her start to relax, felt her movements become more natural. "Of course you wouldn't. You love boasting about your one inch of extra height."

"Duh," Marceline said, and laughed at a childhood memory, "God, I was taller than my brother for so long, I used to love grabbing things and holding them up where he couldn't get them. And then he got a growth spurt and now he's a giant."

"Bet he gets his revenge," Bonnie said quietly, her fingers gripping onto the material of Marceline's suit jacket. She sighed against her, and after a few moments of just looking at her, and Marceline looking back, she murmured, "You have galaxies in your eyes."

"Bonnie," Marceline let out a tiny little laugh. It was almost a nervous response to the compliment. "That came out of nowhere."

Bonnibel just hummed. "I told you over text that I loved green eyes, didn't I?"

"You did," Marceline confirmed, "makes me glad I ended up with my mom's eye colour, because that works out pretty well."

"That was an inevitability, if I remember correctly from year seven biology," Bonnie said, "I'm fairly certain with one blue eyed parent, and one green eyed parent, the allele for green eyes will be dominant over the blue, and the child would more than likely have green eyes. If a brown allele is present, that's the dominant one, so the child would get brown eyes. There are always anomalies, depending on the other alleles the parents carry, but that's generally how it works."

Marceline smiled. She loved it when Bonnie got her big brain out. "How come my mom had green eyes, then? Both of her parents had brown eyes."

"They both probably carried the recessive allele for green eyes, it just didn't present in them," Bonnie shrugged easily, "The natural human eye colour is brown, and the other colours were caused by genetic mutation which arose in the OCA2 gene. Basically, it turned off the ability to produce enough melanin to colour eyes brown, and thus created blue eyes. Green eyes are a genetic mutation that produces low levels of melanin, but more so than blue. The less melanin in your eyes, the lighter they are. Same as skin colour. Less melanin present, the lighter it is, and vice versa. Basic science."

"I think I remember learning about that in like, sixth grade. Probably deleted it from my brain to make room for more song lyrics." Marceline said, laughing quietly. "Whatever. Got a pretty girlfriend to know all of that stuff now."

Bonnibel smiled. "Not going to call me your personal science nerd or something?"

"Nope. I told you, tonight is romanticism only," Marceline held her a little bit tighter around the waist. "Anyway, if we're talking about eyes, I think yours are the prettiest. Not just the colour. I love the way they see me. Because damn, the way you talk, you'd think I was like, god's gift to this earth."

"You said it yourself," Bonnie laughed, and Marceline should've known she wouldn't forget that little drunken confession, "I'm just doing what you're doing and appreciating the best work of the higher powers."

"Drunk me worded that so wrong," Marceline rolled her eyes, "I didn't mean it like that."

Bonnie smiled. "You weren't exactly wrong, though. You are attractive. Don't deny it, because I know you know."

"Don't say it like that, you'll make me sound like one of those jerks who knows they're attractive and uses it to get what they want." Marceline said, choosing to ignore the time in New York when she'd done exactly that to score them some wine at dinner. "I'm just… confident in the way I look. Nothing wrong with that."

"Definitely nothing wrong with that," Bonnie agreed, humming along to the new song that was playing, some old acoustic Shawn Mendes song about being in love with a girl. "Besides, you're not just beautiful on the outside. You're beautiful in here too."

Bonnie's hand pressed against her chest, right over her heart, and that kind of compliment meant way more than one based off her physical appearance. "You think?"

"I know," Bonnie looked at her so softly that it made her stomach flip, "You're one of the rare ones. Beautiful inside and out. I'm never letting you go."

With that, Bonnibel buried her face into Marceline's shoulder and the older girl just held her as they danced, feeling her heartbeat right against her own.

After a little while, the music switched to something a little bit more upbeat, and Bonnie finally pulled away from her. Marceline sulked at the loss of warmth, but Bonnie flashed her those bright blue eyes and Marceline found it hard not to smile.

"Come on," Bonnie said, leading her off the dancefloor, "me dancing to fast music is basically a recipe for disaster. You see how uncoordinated I am in gym class."

Admittedly, she had a point. "Fair enough. I'm going to take a quick bathroom break, then. I'll be right back."

Bonnie smiled, squeezing her hand. "Don't take too long. I'll miss you."

She slowly let go of Bonnibel's hand as she walked away. Her hand felt cold at the loss of touch, so she stuffed both of them in the pockets of her dress pants as she walked, humming along to the random pop song that was playing.

She turned the corner out of the gym, frowning at the big purple lump on the floor. As she took a few steps closer, she realised who it was, and realised what she was doing. Her head was in her hands, so all Marceline could see were blonde curls, bouncing up and down as the girl's body shook with sobs.

Don't be stupid, Marceline thought to herself as she walked by, hearing the cries that were like nails on a chalkboard, if the roles were reversed, you know she'd just mass text a picture of you mid-breakdown. Just keep walking.

She made it a few more feet down the hallway before letting out a loud, irritated groan at her own stupidity. "Ugh. I'm going to regret this. What's wrong?"

Elle looked up in surprise, and Marceline had to resist laughter. The makeup smudged down her face made her look like some strange blonde panda. The girl scoffed, but it had less of an effect than her usual ones. "Like you care."

"Not particularly, but you're crying and unlike the things you like to spread around about me, I'm actually not heartless," Marceline rolled her eyes, "So? What happened?"

Elle looked like she wasn't going to talk. At least until Marceline took a step back, and she burst into a mixture of loud sobs and high-pitched whining. When she finished and looked up expectantly, Marceline just blinked. "Uh… I don't speak whatever language that was."

Elle sighed like Marceline was the one inconveniencing her. "I… I know people think it happened like, forever ago, but I slept with Brad for the first time last night. Like, my first time. And he told me he loved me and I said the same thing back to him, but then I woke up and he was gone and he's blocked me on everything and now he's here with Melissa. I know we're always fighting over him but he's never blocked me before."

Marceline's mouth worked, and she sank down against the wall next to Elle. Boy drama wasn't something she was all that experienced in. "Then they're both trash people. I mean, why are you even friends with Melissa in the first place? From what Bonnie has said, you guys are fighting once a week. That's not good for anyone's sanity."

"We've been friends since kindergarten," Elle said like that was enough of an answer, "I'm not gonna throw away all that time. Would you stop talking to Keila if she stole your boyfriend? Girlfriend, I mean. Bonnibel."

"I don't have to answer that question, because I know she'd never do anything like that. I'd trust Keila with my life," Marceline said, "can you say the same thing about Melissa?"

Elle sighed, leaning her head back against the wall. "No. I guess not."

"And Brad? I mean, I've dated a douchebag before, but that's next level." Marceline said. Ash had used her for sex, but she'd done the same thing right back at him. And at least neither of them had ever lied and told the other that they loved them. "You don't just tell someone you love them like that and then fuck off with their best friend. Seriously, drop the guy. Even if he comes crawling back."

Elle stared at the wall across from where they were sat, and Marceline wondered if she'd just completely zoned out, but then she spoke. "Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I'm just a bad person."

Marceline snorted. "You're not. I've met bad people. Trust me on that."

"No, but… I mean, I started wondering about that when Bonnie thought I'd out her. I know I wouldn't, but if other people think that, then they have to have like, assumed that based on things I've done." Elle said. "Which means I've done bad things. Which makes me a bad person."

"Nah, I don't see it like that," Marceline answered, her hands absently playing with her tie, "doing bad things doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. Everyone makes bad decisions sometimes. It's what you do after that counts. If you learn from it, or if you continue to make the bad choices, to go down the wrong path. The fact that you're even questioning your morality is a good thing. Means you're having a moment of self-awareness. It's whatever you do after this that defines you."

Elle picked at one of the frills on her bright purple dress. "You say that like you've been there."

"Because I have." Marceline said. She had to bite her tongue to refrain from saying you texted a picture of the moment to the whole school. Instead, she pushed herself up from the floor, dusted off her pants, and held a hand out. "Come on. If you really want to show Brad and Melissa, you should go in there and show them how completely unbothered you are. That's real badassery. Though, you might want to clear your makeup up first. You look like a sad panda."

After a few moments of staring at Marceline's outstretched hand silently, Elle reached out and took it. She let go once Marceline had helped her up, and when they turned and walked in the direction of the girls' bathroom, the silence wasn't awkward.

Elle was the one to break it. "Hey, Marceline? Thanks. For that."

Marceline shrugged, holding open the bathroom door. "No worries."

"No, I mean, if I were you… after everything I've said about you, you had every right to keep walking and leave me to cry myself dry." Elle sighed, "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry. For all of that. I know I can't take it back, but… I can still apologise."

If there was one thing she'd never expected, it was that. But she tried not to show her shock, and instead just shrugged again. "Water under the bridge. I don't want to hold grudges. That's way too much like hatred."

Way too much like my dad. She pushed him from her mind as she slipped into a bathroom stall, and when she'd finished washing her hands, she took a few minutes to help Elle touch up her makeup while the other girl warbled on about how she should've known Melissa was the snakiest bitch to ever snake.

She supposed she looked a little bit worn out when she re-entered the gym a little while later. Bonnie was sat talking to Lady and Jake and she practically lit up when she spotted her. It was positively adorable.

Bonnie pulled her down into the seat next to her as Elle dragged a random dateless guy onto the dancefloor. "You look tired."

"I didn't know one person could talk so much. And I'm best friends with Keila." Marceline slumped against the back of her chair. Bonnie's hand gently caressed the back of her neck as she let out a loud huff. "Jesus."

Lady laughed at her display of amateur dramatics. "Why were you with Elle, anyway?"

"She was crying in the hallway and I'm not just going to walk on by," Marceline shrugged, "I am going to need to sleep for a week after that. I'm pretty sure she managed to tell me her and Melissa's entire friendship history in the space of ten minutes."

"Elle's a motormouth, man," Jake laughed, "Once you get her started, she doesn't stop. I like to daydream about food when she's on one of her tirades. But then I just get hungry."

Bonnie smiled. "Want to get out of here, darling?"

Marceline hummed. "Yes please."

"We'll see you guys later," Bonnie said, and it was her helping Marceline up this time. She picked up the suit jacket, which Marceline had left thrown across the back of her chair, and helped her into it, her lips grazing Marceline's ear as she whispered, "You know, as much as I love seeing you in that suit, I think I'm going to love seeing you out of it even more."

Acting like that hadn't affected her at all, Marceline only grinned. "Only seeing me?"

Bonnibel met her gaze with a smirk, something more glistening in her blue eyes. As she tugged Marceline out of the gym, she could only smile.

Maybe school dances weren't so lame after all.