Anonymous

60

Bonnibel was staring at a poem with the task of analysing it when a scrap of paper dropped in front of her. She frowned, opening it up, looking over at her girlfriend, who was writing some note on her own copy of the poem.

At the top of the page, in block capitals, in Marceline's adorably messy handwriting, read the question, do you love me? Underneath, Marceline had drawn two check boxes, one with yes written next to it, and the other with no.

Stifling her smile, Bonnie checked the yes box and scribbled underneath, stop being so cute and focus on your work.

She dropped the note just on the edge of Marceline's paper, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Marceline opened it, read it, smiled, and scrawled something back. When the little folded piece of paper landed in front of her again, Bonnie unfolded it and read what Marceline had written.

I've finished. What's your excuse?

Bonnie looked over at her. Marceline was already watching her, green eyes sparkling mischievously, arms folded across her chest and a perfect eyebrow quirked up in amusement. She glanced at Marceline's copy of the poem; it was heavily annotated, black pen covering most of the available paper space. Bonnibel looked at her own copy and cringed. She'd written maybe four points. Poetry wasn't her strong suit.

She wrote back on the piece of paper, poetry is stupid, that's my excuse.

When Marceline read the words, she let out a quiet little snicker. She passed the paper back and Bonnie read, it's easy. They're basically just song lyrics and I'm a whore for a good metaphor.

Bonnie laughed. She had a feeling that Marceline had rhymed that on purpose. So you're a poet too?

It wasn't long before the paper was passed back again. I prefer lyricist, but I guess so. Anyway, date night tonight?

Can't, it's a school night, Bonnie scribbled back, because she definitely had a rule about that. No sleepovers, no dates. She had to be in a certain mindset for schoolwork, and it was incredibly distracting having Marceline there looking so pretty. Between her physics homework and Marceline, she always chose the latter, even though she was terrified of falling behind in class.

We could meet up to study, was Marceline's written response, and Bonnie's eyebrows rocketed to her hairline in surprise. Marceline? Asking to study?

You want to study? YOU? Have you been pod-peopled? Are you an alien?

Again, Marceline laughed quietly at her response, quickly dropping her smile to a focused frown when their teacher looked up from the desk. Silent working was annoying. Even Bonnie agreed with that; it felt awkward when you wanted to sneeze or clear your throat.

I want to study... anatomy.

She'd drawn a little wink face next to that, and Bonnie felt herself blushing. She wrote back and slid the paper over to Marceline. Recycling jokes now, are we? Study your own anatomy, darling.

Weak. Seriously, let me take you on a date tonight. Just a little one. You'll be home before 8pm. I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die.

When she looked up at her girlfriend, Marceline was pulling the entire puppy-dog face. Pouting, green eyes wide, hands clasped together in a pleading manner. How could she not cave? Fine. But I'm holding you to that. Home by 8. No later.

Marceline read the words on the page and grinned, writing back. Thanks, Bon-Bon. You're the best. Got something I want to tell you.

Bonnie raised her eyebrows at the paper. Well, you could've opened with that. Then I wouldn't have put up a fuss. Good news?