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after the twelfth, every other page, and eventually every page, was about her.
    The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity – especially to Marceline. Song was already hard to read, and with the expression she held now, there was no way of telling what her reaction was, or was about to be.
    Song’s eyes were wide, but not wide in a horrified sense, that Marceline could tell. But she couldn’t be sure that that wasn’t just a state of numbed shock. Her lips were parted, almost as if Marceline had interrupted her reading to herself.
    Her body was unnaturally still, while Marceline’s thudding heart alone was able to make her tremble under the looming silence. She half expected Song to run out of her room – and the house, never to be seen again. Marceline winced at the thought, and the prolonged, maddening silence.
    Finally, after nearly three minutes of standing still, Song closed the book, and placed it back on the desk where she’d found it, her head turning away from Marceline in the process.
    “Song?” Marceline immediately whined.
    Though the possibility of Song throwing the book at her that she’d imagined was not much better, she didn’t like what her body language was telling her.
    Aside from the day they had met, Song always had a smile on her face. At least when she was around Marceline. And for the first time, she’d seen it evaporate – and by her own hand, no less. It was almost more painful than the thought of never telling her.
    Marceline stepped further into the room, her hands raising in the beginnings of a plea.
    “Song,” she said again, barely above a whisper.
    This time Song turned around, the expression she wore now magnitudes worse. Marceline could see the pain in her eyes. And what almost looked like disgust from her point of view. Marceline’s breath caught in her throat, her own eyes dragged into mimicking the sorrow.
    “Please …” Marceline begged, staring down into those brown orbs. “Can we … Still be friends?”
    She didn’t expect Song to grant her a vocal response. But she was looking for at least some form of forgiveness. Something to tell her that she wasn’t going to just disappear from her life forever. But Song just stared.
    “Song, please. Please . Don’t look at me like that … Please … I’ll get over it. I promise. Just tell me … show me that we can still be friends .”
    Marceline cringed when she saw the subtle, yet bold shake of Song’s head. Her mouth closed, and she took a step towards Marceline, as if solidifying her answer. Marceline’s chest heaved as her head shook in response, much more frantically.
    “Song,” she croaked. “Please. Please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I wasn’t ever going to … You weren’t supposed to …”
    Marceline fumbled with her thoughts, trying her best to come up with something that would change Song’s mind.
    “I’ll … I’ll burn it. I swear I’ll never bring it up. Ever. Just …”
    Tears welled in Marceline’s eyes and Song’s face soon mimicked her level of angst. She could see that Marceline didn’t understand. That she was too emotional to attempt to.
    She’d have to show her.
    Song’s hands reached to cup either side of Marceline’s damp face. They squeezed ever so lightly as she craned her neck and rose on her toes to press her pink lips against Marceline’s red-glossed, quivering ones.
    Marceline’s body tensed, almost as if with a volt of electricity. Her eyes, previously squinting from tears, were wide once again. In both shock and confusion, Marceline’s hands hovered around Song’s slender waist.
    Her mind had split off into several different paths. There was, of course, the part of her that wanted to respond with everything she had. To crush her lips with her own and embrace her. There was a side that wanted to shove her away with the same passion, furious of being mocked. And then of course, there was the side that was in complete and utter shock.
    It was that