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They were chillin’ in Marina’s condo after a long sesh in the studio, late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the cracks of the curtains. The condo was clean, sterile, almost, just as Pearl knew Marina liked it. She couldn’t leave shit on the counters here, or she’d get yelled at for it. It was annoying, but Pearl liked hanging out there better.
Why?
Pearl peeked in Marina’s direction. She could recall exactly what had drawn her to Marina. Her strange-looking tentacles (which made a lot more sense the moment Pearl's oblivious ass found out she was an Octoling). The innocent, frightened, yet sparkling turquoise eyes, an unfamiliar, exotic language dripping off of soft, plush lips, and nice—
Yooooo, slow down, Pearl thought, heat crawling its way up her cheeks at an alarmingly fast rate. Let’s not do that, Her golden eyes darted over to her music partner, who was currently focused on completing a crossword puzzle, tongue endearingly poking out from between her shiny, gloss-coated lips. Especially to the girl you work with every day. Pearl defeatedly slid down her chair, the leather making an obnoxious squeak.
Marina seemed to notice her…dilemma, turquoise eyes ripped from the almost-completed puzzle. Don’t say it, don’t fucking say it, Pearl willed desperately, hoping the two of them had somehow built a psychic connection for just that one second.
“...Are you okay?”
Pearl felt the thwomp of her huge head hitting the back of the chair. The inkling groaned. She said it.
Her life was falling apart. She’d completely blown out her voice, barely survived a near-death experience, and of-fuckin’-course, this new development between her and Marina. Emphasis on the her. Y’know, when you start a band with the fresh-as-shell, ultra-cute, who-you-would-later-out-find-to-be-an-Octoling girl you basically took in as a refugee, you wouldn't expect to end up crushin' on her because the two of you almost died at the hands of some wack, psychopathic telephone which made you realize shit because you'd been thinking about things, and you just knew, then, that you couldn't lose her. And even worse, after... that, there'd been this weird, uncomfortable tension between them. Fleeting glances, unspoken words, comforting each other after trauma-inducing nightmares, all that corny shit. Pearl'd been trying to brush it off, but...
Shit, had she been overcompensating? Could Marina tell? Was she acting weird? Was she acting weird because she was acting weird? No, no, Marina always acted like that, nice and blushy and so, so sweet.
What was she thinking? Marina wasn't interested in her. They were best friends. She was just acting normal. Pearl was acting weird, because she was feeling all gross and mushy around Marina, and it was weird. It was so, so weird. She'd gone pyscho. Pearl'd gone insane, she didn't do shit like this, but she couldn't stop.
Marina was just so… Marina.
The current bane of Pearl’s existence cocked her head to the right, long tentacles swaying with the motion. The worry on her face was palpable, brows pinched in the middle, mouth set in an (adorable) pout. Gah! Why does she have to be so amazing?
Pearl wasn’t going soft. Not for Marina, not for anyone.
“Pearlie,” Marina urged, Octarian accent twisting the Inkling’s name in the most precious way possible. A hand found its way across the table to ghost across her own. Pearl felt like she was going to dissolve right then and there. “You have done so, so much for me,” Her lips pulled themselves into a hesitant smile. Her metal-framed glasses rested on the tip of her nose. Pearl couldn’t look away.
“Let me help you too!” Marina’s shiny turquoise eyes darted to the tile floor, before meeting her own once again.
Marina would not be able to help here.
“Uhhhhhh,” Pearl was gawking. Was she gawking? Her mouth felt like it was hanging open, like a fuckin’ smallfry could swim into it right that second and make itself home inside. She felt like a Certified, Rank X, Profreshional, loser. With a capital ‘L.’ Hey Inkopolis- Scratch that- Hey Inkadia! She pictured herself on the very top of Moray Towers, yelling into her princess cannon, The once-fresh Pearl has gone complete DOOFUS for an Octoling girl who’s obsessed with the coddamn Squid Sisters. Normie music!
The Pearl from three years ago would’ve splatted herself.
She stole her hand back, leaning across her chair nonchalantly. She urged the words to come out. “Uh, don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m, uh, chill.”
It was fine. She was fine.