A Marshmallow's Guide to Loving a Complete Idiot (Inanimate Insanity)(Marshple)

23. Don't Be Too Subtle

It was fifteen days after the needle incident by the time Marsh decided it was time to get things over with.

Subtly implying things obviously wasn't going to work. Apple herself had all the subtlety of a circus clown, and had the reasoning ability of an elementary-schooler, so symbolism was going to fly over her head.

No, it'd all need to be laid out in front of Apple, translated to the language of "plain ol' English" with all of the words with more than three syllables removed. Then she had to make like Microphone and show her feelings with all the amazing subtlety of screaming at the top of her lungs.

Because many of the thoughts could either be divided into an uncertain "she won't be that mean, right?" or doubts over whether asking her out was the right thing to do, it was all a blur to Marsh.

She settled on the option of a love letter for a few reasons. It'd let her refine the language into poetic less-than-four-syllable elementary vocabulary, be more honest because she wouldn't back out, and there'd be less pressure on Apple.

Plus, maybe Apple would be impressed with her handwriting or something.

At least for legacy's sake her first confession would be neat and romantic.

'It leaves the ball in her court... but at least the ball will have been served.'

Rome wasn't built in a day. It took Marsh five nights and a wastebin filled with attempts ("who wants to have a campfire?") to build her personal Rome.

It looked something like this:

          Apple,

Call me crazy for writing all this. I'm starting to think I AM going crazy. I guess living in an old mansion for nineteen months will do that to you. Maybe it's just adapting (that means changing) to deal with everything staying the same here.

But I want to change our friendship.

I think I have a crush on you. I had no clue why at first, but now I know why. You always know just what to say to make me happy. Time moves in a weird way here, but you're here to deal with it too. I'm lucky to have someone else alive to hang with.

'Crush' might not be in the dictionary. It means that I want to be closer to you, not that I want you to be squished. That means I want to do more coupley things together, like holding hands, going on dates and maybe kissing. When I'm around you I feel warm and a bit nervous, but also really happy.

Please tell me whether you want to try, or we can stay best friends and pretend this never happened. Don't tell me yes unless you're sure you feel the same way. You can pick what you want, and I won't be mad.

Thanks for being pretty cool. I hope we can reach an understanding.

Yours,

          Marshmallow

If the letter was to anyone else Marsh would have filled more than a page, and she'd have been more specific about when the crush started (even if the answer this time was "I'm not really sure when") or what she loved about her crush (Her eagerness? Her honesty? Being able to help her? It was an embarrassingly long list, she found). Heck, she might've busted out some poetry.

But obviously, Apple, still being an avid reader of Dr. Seuss, wouldn't appreciate it.

It took her two more days of happy interactions to get up the courage to actually take the letter to her.

Marsh stood in front of Apple's door that night, letter clenched in her hands. She stared at the door for a long time, her heart already racing.

'Alright. This is the night.'