The Hero and The Rebel (Fiolee)

Chapter 3

I swiftly pulled on my clothes and walked out of my room. Then my bunny hat flew off my head. It floated up and above my head, where Marshall Lee was holding it. 

"Marshall! Give it back!" I cried, jumping up and reaching for the hat.

My blond hair fell down my back and onto the floor. 

"I'll give it back, but I want something in return," he smirked. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Alright. What do you want?" I grumbled.

"A kiss," Marshall Lee smiled.

My jaw dropped. Three words. What. The. Grape!? Marshall started laughing. I could hear him say through the laughter that it was a joke. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. Marshall floated in front of me, his eyes hiding something. My eyebrow quirked up at his expression. What does he have to hide? While he was laughing, I quickly reached out and snatched my hat from his hands.  I shoved it on my head and tucked my hair back in. Marshall smiled innocently. He was about as innocent as a man eating bunny. They'll draw you in and then eat your face off. Marshall floated over to the kitchen and took all of our strawberries and apples out. I gave him a pointed  look. He smiled innocently again. 

"What? Did you want an apple or something?" Marshall said, offering me a juicy red apple.

"What I want is for you to stop eating our food," I said, walking towards him with a bowlful of grapes.

He held the fruit away from me. I rolled my eyes and sat on the couch, eating my grapes. He looked down at me with a mischievous smile.

"Wanna go do something fun?" he smirked.  I studied his face. 

"Depends on what you have in mind.", I muttered, going into the kitchen.

Marshall followed me and threw away the now gray fruit. I could feel him breathing on my neck. On reflex, I smacked behind me.

"Ouch! You hit me in the nose, Fi!" he whined. I giggled. When the heck did I start giggling and bunk? Well, it was funny anyway.

"Let's sing a song. Or dance," Marshall suggested.

"I, uh..can't dance," I mumbled, not facing him anymore. 

"You what?" I could hear Marshall laughing at me.

      "I CAN'T DANCE, OKAY?" I blew up. I held my head in my hands, blinking back tears. It was a very sensitive topic, because I rarely cry.

I was tired of being made fun of. At every dance that Prince Gumball held, I was always the odd one out because I couldn't dance. Yes, I know what your thinking. Fiona is so awesome, why would she care about what people would say? It's because I constantly heard it. When Cake and I went out, I would always hear positives and negatives about me, mainly because of my dancing. 

     "Whoa. I'm sorry, Fi. I-I didn't mean to," Marshall apologized.

I stood upright and looked at him. His face was genuinely concerned. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my eyes of any tears. I didn't want another reason for anybody to make fun of me. I held my arms open for a hug and he squeezed me tight. This was so comforta--wait, what? What the grape am I doing? I pushed myself away from him and looked him in the eye. Concern was still there. Then he smiled.

"Hey, I could teach you how to dance!", he began. "Then nothing can touch you!"  

A toothy grin was spread over his face. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the living room, switching on the T.V.. Marshall followed me. 

"I think I'll pass on that.", I said, now back to my perky self. Marshall slid a CD into the CD player. He pressed a few buttons and turned back to me. Music began playing from the speakers.

"Just shoot for the stars if it feels right, and aim for my heart if you feel like. And take me away and make it okay, I swear I'll behave.", Marshall sang.

I recognized the song, Moves Like Jagger. 

"You wanted control, so we waited. I put on a show, now we're nake--", I stopped in the middle of my word, blushing, and Marshall smirked knowingly. He picked up from where I left off.

"You say I'm a kid, my ego is big, I don't give a--", I clamped my hand over his mouth. 

"Take me by the tongue and I'll know you!"

"Kiss me till you're drunk and I'll show you!"

"I got the moves like Jagger, I got the moves like jagger, I got the moOOOoves like Jagger!", I sang, shaking my hips playfully.

Marshall stopped singing as his eyes got darker. He got a strange look on his face. I stopped and watched him carefully. What was up with him? Marshall was in front of me in a flash and grabbed my hips tightly. I looked up at him. His eyes were bright red.

Oh pickles.