Work Text:
Bonnie doesn't even know what time it is. All she knows is that it's early, way too early. Or would it make more sense to say it's too late? She supposes the terminology doesn't really matter anyway; when it's winter, the time merges into one.
She rubs her eyes tiredly. "Just a few more pages..." she mumbles to herself, typing endlessly on her keyboard.
She wanted this report done as soon as possible, even if it meant no sleep tonight. Since time never really changes, who needs to work within a normal schedule?
Suddenly, Bonnie feels a breeze bite her skin, as if punishing her for staying up. She grumbles briefly, something about how old houses are always cold even with the heating on, piles of blankets, and multiple layers. Bonnie wonders if she should write a paper on how cold houses reduce productivity.
Her thoughts are brought to a halt when she hears sharp, plundering noises against her window. Curious, she looks over and is greeted by white flakes smothering the glass. The snow quickly blocks out the dark skies outside, and the draping of flakes on the window reflects the light of Bonnie's room. Something about it feels warm, as if the snow is sheltering her from the outside.
A weary voice is heard from the bundle of blankets below her. "Bon, when are you going to sleep?"
Her heartbeat quickens slightly at the sound of Marceline's voice. She feels even warmer, and it's not from the snow curtains on her windows. "Oh- uh, later. When I get this work done." She moves closer to her girlfriend, nudging her knee against her shoulder. "By the way, you should look outside."
With that, Marceline pops up, not unlike an eager puppy woken up by the smell of food. She brushes the hair away from her eyes and admires the snow-covered glass. But her excitement quickly dissolves, as she slumps almost immediately. "Oh, how great."
Bonnie raises a brow quizzically; doesn't Marceline love snow? She briefly averts her eyes from her screen to Marceline. "Honestly, I thought you'd be a bit happier."
Marceline lets out a sound that resembles a laugh, laced with mock-annoyance. "Oh, trust me, I am. But at this rate, you'll never catch up on sleep, and I'll end up making snowdudes by myself." she follows with a series of exaggerated tuts and tsks, earning a soft push from her girlfriend.
Bonnie scoffs, letting her hand fall on Marceline's bundled body. "Who said we were even going to go out in the snow? And snowdudes? Seriously?"
Marceline raises herself entirely from the bed, turning her body to leave. "Yes, Snowdudes. And, fine." She slips her cold feet into her slippers and shuffles her way out of the bedroom.
Bonnie watches her blankly.
"Uh.. where are you going?" she asks after definitely hearing more than one door open and close.
But Bonnie is met with nothing but silence.
"Marcy?"
Silence.
She rolls her eyes as she continues to type. Marceline was probably just pulling a prank on her and was getting something to eat. She should take this silence as an opportunity to finish her report.
Five minutes roll by, which somehow turns into 30 minutes. After satisfyingly completing her conclusion and future suggestions, Bonnie realises it's been well over an hour and has heard nothing. She swears that if she hears the clock tick one more time and her girlfriend has still not returned, she would go hunting for her herself.
Tick.
Bonnie sighs. "Okay, this is... preposterous." She clicks Save, and sets her laptop aside roughly (but carefully) on the bedside table.
Bonnie lifts herself from the bed, twisting and turning slowly as she hasn't moved in hours. She groans, feeling all her muscles thank her when she stretches out her arms. Bonnie glances outside at the window, unaware of what is going on outside. No way is Marceline outside in that. But given the silence, Bonnie wasn't sure where else she could be.
As she moves around the room to prepare her journey outdoors, she catches her reflection, noticing her hair is out of place with visible tangles and uneven bumps. She quickly grabs a hat from her clothes drawer to cover her head, making a mental note to thank Lady for knitting that. After finding a scarf near the exit, she looks at her jacket to debate whether she should put it on. But why would she need a jacket? Besides, Marceline is probably just in the front garden.
Bonnie opens the front door, unfazed when it unlocks with ease. Typical, Marceline never even locked it, as if she was taunting Bonnie to come find her. However, Bonnie only wonders how burglars could've come in if they wanted; or worse, the door could've been blown open and cold air would have ventilated around the house, as if the house wasn't cold enough. She rolls her eyes as she shoves her head out in the cold, her body staying within the doorframe.
"Marceline?" she calls.
Looking outside at the icy blizzard, she realises the snowfall never stopped, a growing sheet of white continuing to smother the ground. Her garden, along with her neighbours', had fused into one piece of land, the grass and sidewalk lost underneath layers of snow. The air was crisp, and fog became the sky. She could barely see anything beyond the steps to her house, let alone her own girlfriend.
She shouts one more time, this time a bit louder. "Marcy?"
Nothing.
Suddenly, Bonnie's certainty of Marceline's whereabouts disappears, worries taking their place. If Marceline wasn't inside or outside, where was she? She feels wind nip at her skin again, much harsher than how it felt indoors, under her blankets. The temperature was definitely below average compared to the previous nights, and it's 4 a.m., meaning it wasn't going to pick up anytime soon. Marceline could freeze out there.
She quickly puts on her boots and steps outside, closing the door behind her.
Bonnie crunches her boots into the snow, surprised when she sinks, and sees remaining flakes rest atop her boots. She takes bigger steps, making sure not to collect more snow on the top of her boots, and heads towards the car. Pulling up a sleeve to wipe at the passenger window, she peers inside to hopefully find Marceline there.
Empty.
Bonnie's teeth begin to chatter, and she crosses her arms to block the wind creeping into her clothes. Briefly, she wonders if this weather compares to living in Antarctica. Or maybe she should've just worn that old jacket. Sighing, she continues to slowly trudge around the house. Passing by the garden, garage, and shed - locations where her girlfriend could be, but isn't- Bonnie feels anxiety in her stomach begin to boil.
She looks around some more, taking extra time to allow her vision to fight through the thick fog, though, it doesn't do much; everything is either blocked by a mountain of snow or completely frozen with ice. The constant cold reminded her of the time Simon had lowered his thermostat to the point where his windows developed frost. She told Marceline to check his thermostat after visiting for dinner, as she felt colder inside than when they had left to go home. He eventually admitted he liked the cold.
Bonnie, however, does not. She decides then and there to return to her bed. If Marceline wanted to play hide-and-seek this long, she would surely be inside rather than outside.
Turning around, she notices her step doesn't sink for once. She wonders if she stepped on her own footprint, but upon inspection, it was slightly larger than hers. And a familiar pattern. Marceline's boots? Or a killer - Bonnie thought. Either way, she realises a trail follows the footprint she stepped on. Perhaps Marceline wasn't far off.
Following each deep indent, she found herself at her backyard gate, which, if not for the metal hatch poking out, was almost unrecognisable with all the fluffy snow smothering the fresh pine. She remembered walking past earlier, but not up close, as the snow-covered appearance made the gate look like a solid wall. Bonnie sweeps away the white to reveal the metal hatch, and slides the handle to unlock the gate. The metal against her skin was the same numbing temperature as her. Cold.
As the gate creaks open, she is immediately greeted with. unshockingly, more snow, but this time, it is man-made, possessing the shape of a-
"Oh, hey, Bon. Like my snowdude?" Marceline grins, red blushing her cheeks and nose.
The familiar voice made Bonnibel turn her head instantly from the snow figure. Relief washes over her, and she wastes no time throwing herself at her girlfriend, inhaling the scent from her skin, cherry mixed with the refreshing snow.
Arms wrap around Bonnie, returning the embrace. "Hey, you're shivering," Marceline notes, gently prying the girl off. She eyes her girlfriend up and down, examining her winter wear. Her pyjamas, paired with an out-of-place hat and scarf. Marceline takes her hands. "Damn, you're not even wearing gloves- or a jacket. Bonnie, I thought you were more responsible." she says, slightly teasingly but also concerned.
Marceline pulls her closer once more, bringing Bonnie's hands into her own pockets.
Bonnie rolls her eyes, greedily absorbing Marceline's warmth. "Maybe if you told me where you were, I wouldn't be out here dying in the cold."
Marceline looks at her guiltily and plants a kiss on her cheek. "I'm sorry, I thought you would've followed me. But then I got carried away building this guy and lost track of time," she points her head in the direction of the snowman. "At least you got to meet Mr. Snowdude, though."
Bonnie sighs and nestles her face in the crook of Marceline's neck for heat, feeling exhaustion hit her. Despite her girlfriend being outside for longer than an hour, she was surprisingly warm.
To which Marceline also realises at that moment how cold Bonnie is. She pulls back slightly upon the cold contact, but allows the other girl to continue resting. "Hey, wait. Let's go inside."
Bonnie shakes her head, pushing herself impossibly closer to Marceline. "Nope," She tilts her head upwards to look at her girlfriend with determination. "After all the laps I made around the house, you owe me some body heat."
Beautiful laughter chimes the air, and the cold doesn't feel as harsh anymore.
"Fine." Marceline squeezes Bonnie's hand tighter. "Just five more minutes, though."
It turns out five minutes are enough for Bonnie to warm up, and for Marceline to realise just how cold the night was. They trudge back to their room, generating shared warmth as their house continues to be tucked neatly in the snow.