I woke up in the morning to a soft humming noise and arms and legs entangled with mine. Everything was warm, and Bonnie smelled like sleep and smoke. Her left hand was gripping mine, but not quite gripping. It was softer and sweeter. Everything felt sweeter. Like my life was glazed in a sugary coating, just for this moment. I flipped myself over in the bed and removed my hand from Bonnie's. She stirred a little, but didn't wake up. I lauded there for a while, just looking at her. She had freckles, that I never noticed before, and her eyelashes were a light brown. She seemed so, peaceful, when she slept. It was weird, but I liked it. I lifted a hand to her neck, and ten slid it to her jaw. Her eyes blinked open and stared at me. Green. Bright, saturated green. They were wide for a moment then went soft. Maybe it was all a dream. She was acting so weird.
"Good morning." She mumbled, resting her hand above mine on her face. I wrinkled my nose at the words. It wasn't her.
"What? Bad breath?" She asked.
"No, just..." I saw her smirk, and in seconds she was on top of me. Her face was hovering over mine, and her hands pinned my wrists above my head.
"Is this more like me?" She growled. I swallowed really hard. I couldn't help but feel I brought this on. I was to tired to even protest or process this, but, I knew what would follow.
Bonnie's P.O.V.
Sometimes I was smooth when I was mad. I had a fast tongue. Sometimes I wasn't. I just got mad. When I was around Marceline, I was smooth. By smooth I meant I knew how to get my way. I was laying naked in the bed now, and it was about noon. The atmosphere was hot and heavy. Like the blankets right now. I kicked them off and stood up, searching for my phone. It was sitting on the nightstand. Not surprisingly, I hadn't gotten any messages or calls since last night. I was popular, but now really in a good way. I left my phone there. Marceline had fallen back asleep after, well you know, the super hot gay sex. I nudged her shoulder in attempt to wake her up. She just grumbled and rolled over. The action was cute, and I laughed despite myself. She still had a shirt on, (One of my own, mind you.) and it covered most of her body. I pulled the shirt upwards and her hands flew to it to pull it back down. She rolled over gave me her famous death glare.
"What?" She growled. Her harshness wasn't surprising anymore, but more humorous.
"Well it's noon, and I just figured you'd want to get up and, I don't know, make me a sandwich?" I joked. She rolled her eyes, obviously tired of the sandwich joke. I wasn't.
"You can make your own, and one for me too. I am your house guest after all." She shot back.
"Oh this isn't my house, it's one of my friends." I lied. Her face went red.
"Are you serious?" She suddenly switched to whispering. I rolled my eyes.
"No." I said skeptically. She sat up and pulled the shirt down again, like it would get longer. She stood up, and got close to my face. Morning breath. Bleh. She was blabbering about something but I was opting kissing her with our breath stinking.
"Hm?" She questioned. I missed whatever she asked, so I chose kissing. I moved forward and kissed her really softly, because I wanted to see if she'd kiss back. She did at first, but then she pushed me away. I almost laughed again, but I saw she was crying. Oh boy.
"Woah wait, I was just messing around!" I said, my hands coming up to her shoulders. She backed out of my grip and I didn't follow her.
"I'm sick of your 'jokes' Bonnie." She was still crying.
"I'm sorry, don't cry." I said, holding her shoulders again.
"Am I even a person to you?" She asked, not looking at me. The question took me of guard.
"Of course you are, why-" she interrupted me.
"I'm serious. Am I a person to you?" She asked again. I stood there for a minute, and let my hands fall to my sides.
"I don't understand." I said. I did, but I didn't. And I couldn't explain it either way.
"Do you love me?" She asked. Holy shit. I just woke up.
"I..." I looked at her. She was staring at me now, her face was red and her eyes wet. I couldn't lie to her. I just couldn't.
"I don't know." I mumbled. I hated feeling like this. Little. Emotional, confused.
"Why are you here, then?" She questioned.
"I... Don't know." I replied again.
"That's not a fucking answer."
"Because, I like being around you? I don't know! You're a fun person to be around, and you're really pretty, and you can tolerate me, and you don't judge me out loud and you aren't cold and you're just real. You're just you." I stopped myself from continuing.
"Okay." She said. Okay? That's it?
"Look, I don't know what love is even like. I don't know if I love you. If I can I will. I'll fall hard for you. But I've only known you well for a month. I can't love an almost stranger."
"An almost stranger." She echoed.
"Jesus, I can tell you I hate puppies and babies are disgusting and you're an almost stranger, and you'd comment on the last. What is that?"
"That's me, Bonnie. That's who I am. But I'm a stranger, so how would you know."
"Marceline what the fuck." I grumbled. I sat down in the bed, she was crying again. I looked up at her, and decided what to do. I grabbed her arm and pulled her her down next to me. I felt her arms around my sides, and her face resting in my shoulder. I sighed.
"I'm sorry." She cried.
"It's okay." I hugged her a little closer and just sat there with her.
