Crushing Him (FioLee and FinnCeline) - Written by Calliope

Crushing Him (FioLee and FinnCeline) - Chapter 2

"Yo, Finn!" Marceline called, opening the door to the treehouse in which her best friend resided. "Come over to my place for a jam session! Come on, dude!"

"Comin'!" he cried. "Jake, let's go!"

"Woo!" Marceline heard Jake's voice call. "Got my viola, my bow, let's go! Finn, you got that new flute PB had made for you?"

"Yeah, man!"

Marceline watched Jake stretch down with Finn on his back. Jake grinned. "Hey hey, Marceline! Let's go!"

Marceline flew up to Jake's back. "Hey, BMO!" she said. "You coming?"

"BMO has a drum set application on his memory card!" the Korean voice called from Finn's green backpack. "And, yes, BMO is coming!" It poked its head out from the flap and grinned at the vampire.

"Cool!" Marceline sat down behind Finn. "Let's go!"

The stretchy dog stretched his front feet over the treetops. He placed them about a kilometre away and then brought his front feet to the same place. He did this several times, and they were back at Marceline's house in no time flat.

Marceline dove off Jake's back and did a jump roll onto the ground. She came up on her feet and floated upwards. "So, um, Finn, why did PB make that flute for you? I would have thought for sure that Flame Princess would have done something like that for you! She could have enchanted it or something, so that it sounded beautiful no matter what. Or are you and PB… a thing now?" Although none of the three beings nor the single robot heard it, Marceline's tone was bitter and full of unnoticed malice. She obviously had an unknown crush on the blond human adventurer called Finn.

Finn blushed. "Nah, PB is just jealous of me and FP. She keeps giving me gifts and stuff, not knowing that I don't like her anymore. Why?"

Marceline shrugged. "Just curious. So is it wood and bandages this time?"

"Heck no!" Finn produced a pink metal flute from his green backpack. "It's metal. I'm thinking of asking FP to enchant it with Fiery Imagery, which should be really cool."

Obviously knowing what he was doing, Finn put the flute to his lips. He played a melody almost as soft as what Marceline imagined Marshall Lee's guitar to sound like. This flute song, however, washed over Marceline smoother than any guitar ever could. It was a slow stream, shaping the sharp stones at the head into shiny pebbles at the end. Marceline, as she always did when she heard a beautiful song, shut her eyes and let her mind form the scene to the song, feeling the shivers down her spine, the goosebumps prickling her cold skin.

Marceline was eight. She wore her little red undershirt and her denim overall-style dress. Her sandals were strangely absent, or at least it was strange until she looked down.

Her little pointy half-demon toes were submerged in a stream that slowly rushed around her ankles. It was pleasantly cold and she giggled as tiny guppies and slightly larger baby salmon nibbled at her wiggling toes, thinking they were little blue worms.