"I-I have to go." Marceline says.
"What?!" I say in shock.
We're sitting on my bed in my room. Marci told me she had something important to tell me, and she didn't seem happy about it, but I didn't expect to hear THIS.
"WHY?!" I ask, tears in my eyes.
"Whoa, calm down Bonni." Marci says.
"HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?!" I yell, "MY GIRLFRIEND SAYS SHE HAS TO LEAVE ME AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM ABOUT IT?!"
"It's not what you think Bonni." Marci says, "I just have go to the nightosphere for about a month."
"Oh," I say calming down, "Why?"
Marci looks down. "I just have to take care of some … . things." she says.
I don't ask her anymore. Things with her father and the nightosphere are so complicated. SHE'S so complicated. That's why she puts up the tough exterior, but inside she's just a softie. You just have to prove yourself, she has to trust you wholeheartedly , and then she'll open up. I've had the treasure of seeing the true Marceline. She's been hurt so much. There's so much pain. Which is why I'd never hurt her.
"You okay?" she asks me.
I look up.
"I'm just going to miss you SO much." I say.
"I know." she says, "But I'll be back before you know it Bon."
I start to cry.
"It's just," I say, "life's so hard being a princess. All the responsibilities, they overwhelm me Marci. The thing that gets me through it all is snuggling up to you at the end of the day."
Marci puts her thinking face on. Then she starts to take her shirt off.
"Marci!" I say, "You know I-I don't want to do that yet."
"No, I don't wanna have sex." she gives me her shirt. "I want you to have this." she says.
I take the shirt and look at it. It's a rock shirt. Something totally Marceline, but something totally … not me.
"Uh, thanks Mar-Mar," I say, "But I don't think it's really my …" I trail off.
"No," Marci says, "I'm not giving it to you to WEAR. I want it to be that thing you snuggle with at the end of the day. Until I come back of course."
"So," I say, "Kinda like a blankie. A Marci blankie."
"Yeah, I guess." she says.
She kisses me. Then she flies up to my window.
"Well, bye. For now!" she says.
"Wait, but your not wearing a shir-" I start.
But it's to late. She's off and away. I look out the window until I can't see her flying figure anymore. Then I sit back on my bed.
I sniff the shirt. It smells like Marceline. Better than any blanket in the world. I decide to try it on. I take off my shirt and put Marci's on. I go to my bathroom and look in the mirror.
I look kinda, funny. But I like it. It just reminds me that much more of Marci.
I plop into bed and decide to sleep in the shirt. It's a wonderful sensation, being engulfed in Marci. Every night after I'd wear that shirt to sleep. It was part of my routine. Take a bath, brush my teeth, put on Marci's shirt. It was part of my routine even after I broke her heart.