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side that seemed to dominate, as Marceline stayed still even as Song pulled away from the kiss. The tears had stopped upon contact and all there was to do now was look at one another.
    Song searched Marceline’s eyes for some sign of understanding, but only saw even less. Marceline’s head shook in Song’s hands after a moment more of silent anticipation, her lashes fluttering as she replayed what had just happened.
    “I don’t …” she began to say, unable to grasp the meaning behind the kiss.
    She still couldn’t tell if it was an acceptance, or a farewell. Song grimaced, her hands lowering from Marceline’s face to rest on her still-hovering hands. She pushed them down, forcing them to rest upon her hips as she looked in Marceline’s eyes with resolve. But Marceline could barely bring herself to comprehend what was happening. She was still partially under the illusion that Song was about to leave at any moment. Even as she pushed her back towards her bed.
    She fell back to sit on it in a daze, looking up at Song in a trance. Song’s eyes were no longer grieving. They were accommodating – sympathetic, almost, as she stood in front of her, now able to look down at her.
    The light from the windows gave her pale features the appearance of a goddess, gracing Marceline with her very existence. And all Marceline could bring herself to do was stare.
    The pleated black skirt of Song’s uniform crumpled against the crease of her thigh and hip as she lifted her knee onto the bed to Marceline’s left. It was then that Marceline’s conscious took hold when Song’s left knee came to join on her right side.
    Hands still on Song’s hips where they had been relocated, Marceline’s eyes widened for the third time as she gazed up at the goddess before her. And though the body of said goddess – the one that she had been longing to embrace and fondle – came to reside in her lap, her eyes never left hers. It was if she was waiting for permission.
    “Song?” Marceline whispered in question once more, needing that last step of reassurance.
    She had almost expected another kiss. But instead, as Song lowered herself into Marceline’s lap, she wrapped her arms around her neck, and nestled her face against its crease. Song squeezed her as if she was frightened. And the fact of the matter was, she was.
    To say what she was about to let happen was frowned upon in her family was an understatement. She could very well be disowned, which she was already on the verge of from her grades in school. Her parents were already skeptical of her friendship with Marceline, but she hoped she would have been able to keep at least that.
    She didn’t completely understand her feelings herself, but the sudden presenting of Marceline’s was almost overwhelming. And then to have Marceline say that she was willing to throw them away … She didn’t care if she was thrown out of her house. She didn’t want to let the chance go by. She needed to make herself clear. She could only hope that this was enough.
    And Marceline understood. In that moment, Marceline’s arms wrapped around Song’s back as she flipped them both over, landing on top of her on the bed. Song’s arms fell to her sides, her hands by either of her shoulders as she stared up at Marceline with watering eyes.
    Marceline stared into them a moment more as her hands held her up in her hovering position. Slowly, she leaned in, one shoulder giving way to the lean, and lowering its forearm to rest beside Song’s head.
    The space they shared shrunk until Marceline’s lips were able to graze hers. She applied a generous pressure, her other forearm giving way to her new position as she took Song for her own. Song returned the kiss with a gentle offer, and Marceline couldn’t help but smile, a giggle bubbling up against her lips.
    She couldn’t have imagined that this was how this day was going to turn out. That Song would not only read for herself her most inner and private thoughts