The zine was coming together okay in Mari's dad's old workshop. Moirine's drawings all over the pages, pictures of animals, people, illustrating stories and articles. There were a few other drawings too, and some anonymous poetry (Mari's poetry, but Mari had sworn Moirine to secrecy). She admired the work for a little while (tentatively titled 'Animals Against the Machine') and then turned to Mari, who was busy painting a tenative title page. "We're not a weird couple, are we?"
"How d'you mean, love?"
Moirine frowned. 'Love' out of anyone else's mouth sounded...cliche. Dumb. She wasn't sure if she liked it. But Mari's tongue did something to the word that made it - something more intimate than simply bearable. There was so much she didn't understand yet about how Mari made her feel. From the way she saw Mari look at her from time to time, from how she took her hand sometimes, from the intangible, wordless, inviolable language they communicated in when they were in each other's arms, she guessed she wasn't the only one still learning. "We're the weird couple who make zines. And are...both girls."
"Nah," Mari went back to her painting. "We're the cutest couple in school."
"Really?" Moirine asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, I mean, it's 50% me, it's got to be cute." Mari grinned at her. Moirine shoved her shoulder.
"Come on," she mumbled.
“We’re not too weird a couple at any rate," Mari said, eyes down. "You know the Korean guy? The basketball player?”
“The one with the dead twin?”
“Yeah,” when Mari rubbed her chin, the poster paint stained over her jaw, giving her an orange beard. Moirine giggled and gestured for her to come closer. Holding her cheek in one hand, she wiped the paint off with a clean cloth. “He’s dating that nerdy girl from the debating club. Er, Dancer or whatever.”
"I didn't know that."
"It doesn't seem to be obvious," Mari said. "But I saw them kissing down by the river, and holding hands in the music store. She had a stack of Mahler and he had a bunch of Madonna."
She turned her head as Moirine wiped her skin clean. Moirine sighed. “I’m sure there are weirder couples than us. But we’re very strange.”
“And charming, in a John Hughes kind of way. You’re the princess and I’m the archetypal bad boy.”
“Archetypical bad boys aren’t girls with paint moustaches,” Moirine pointed out.
Mari kissed her. "Now you've got paint on your face too."
Moirine reached for the paintpot and threw the contents at Mari, staining her white t-shirt blue. Mari retaliated, with green, and then purple. They turned into a rainbow together, in the little workshop. In a little wooden shack, stained with light and colour, Mari reached out and held her hand.
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i wanna be your joey ramone
"How d'you mean, love?"
Moirine frowned. 'Love' out of anyone else's mouth sounded...cliche. Dumb. She wasn't sure if she liked it. But Mari's tongue did something to the word that made it - something more intimate than simply bearable. There was so much she didn't understand yet about how Mari made her feel. From the way she saw Mari look at her from time to time, from how she took her hand sometimes, from the intangible, wordless, inviolable language they communicated in when they were in each other's arms, she guessed she wasn't the only one still learning. "We're the weird couple who make zines. And are...both girls."
"Nah," Mari went back to her painting. "We're the cutest couple in school."
"Really?" Moirine asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, I mean, it's 50% me, it's got to be cute." Mari grinned at her. Moirine shoved her shoulder.
"Come on," she mumbled.
“We’re not too weird a couple at any rate," Mari said, eyes down. "You know the Korean guy? The basketball player?”
“The one with the dead twin?”
“Yeah,” when Mari rubbed her chin, the poster paint stained over her jaw, giving her an orange beard. Moirine giggled and gestured for her to come closer. Holding her cheek in one hand, she wiped the paint off with a clean cloth. “He’s dating that nerdy girl from the debating club. Er, Dancer or whatever.”
"I didn't know that."
"It doesn't seem to be obvious," Mari said. "But I saw them kissing down by the river, and holding hands in the music store. She had a stack of Mahler and he had a bunch of Madonna."
She turned her head as Moirine wiped her skin clean. Moirine sighed. “I’m sure there are weirder couples than us. But we’re very strange.”
“And charming, in a John Hughes kind of way. You’re the princess and I’m the archetypal bad boy.”
“Archetypical bad boys aren’t girls with paint moustaches,” Moirine pointed out.
Mari kissed her. "Now you've got paint on your face too."
Moirine reached for the paintpot and threw the contents at Mari, staining her white t-shirt blue. Mari retaliated, with green, and then purple. They turned into a rainbow together, in the little workshop. In a little wooden shack, stained with light and colour, Mari reached out and held her hand.
"You make me happy again," she said.