Marceline and Lou

A Beloved Face

Marceline sank deeper into her padded wooden chair, eyes drifting through the pane glass window into the flurries of snow and leaves swirling across the frosted street. She should be working on her book or sketching the pedestrians, not daydreaming again. She turned her head to the side, swiping a few locks of wispy brown hair away from her eyes, to look at her silent companion.

Lou was seated next to her, intently reading the old historic text he had been poring over for days. His coffee sat untouched.

As immersed as he was, Marceline felt free to study him with equal intensity. The soft lights and chatter floating around the café seemed to dim and soften as she zoned in on his profile. It was lovely, a fact she seemed to have missed when they first encountered but after these few weeks spent together, was almost impossible to ignore.

There was a subtle, classical strength and grace hidden in the lines of his face. It might've been in how the slope of his nose was gently interrupted by a slight bump, or the upturned tilt of his top lip, as if on constant precipice of an amused grin, or maybe a combination of all these details that made up his beloved face.

Woah.

Beloved?? Since when had she considered Lou's face to be beloved?

But... it wasn't a totally nauseating thought. In fact, the longer she stared, a light from somewhere behind his head seemed to glow brighter and brighter, haloing his dark, disheveled hair.

Her fingers finally itched to pick up her graphite and put to paper every line, every scar and every freckle constellating his profile.

Eventually, Lou seemed to pick up on all the gazing and gave her the side-eye.

"What."

Marceline didn't flinch at his gruff tone and instead, reached out a curious hand, touching her pointer finger to the hinge at his jaw and her thumb to his chin, measuring the angle.

"Hm."

"Marcy."

"Did you know..." she reached even higher and lightly traced from his strong brow down the slope of his nose, wondering how she would ever get the slight bump just right. "That you have a very sketchable profile. Although-"

She startled when Lou's hand came up suddenly to grip her wrist, halting her examination.

He was staring hard at the open page before him, but she saw then that his jaw was clenched, and his chest was rising and falling in a way she hadn't noticed before.

Eyes a little wide, she took her hand back and slid out of her seat, mumbling about needing the toilet, and practically sprinted from their quiet table.

The walk back to Lou's flat was filled with mindless chatter, all Marceline's. It was her attempt at filling the silence, heavy with something Marceline couldn't place. Lou seemed preoccupied, and though he usually was, this time Marcy just had to crack open his thoguhts. What was that moment earlier?

Was it all in her head? The hopeful fantasy of a young girl that a romance between mentor and mentee would finally bloom after months spent working together? Or was that look on Lou's face the result of something substantial, concrete, real. What would she do if it was?
She had only just started to think of Lou in this new light and she was honestly shocked the thought hadn't occurred to her earlier. Lou was gorgeous. And she was a young, romantic with her nose in books. Add on to that his impressive knowledge and kind guidance towards her and why wouldn't she fall for him?

But... it was impossible. He was 8 years her senior and her teacher, there was no way.

Marcy sneaked a peek at his face then, trying to find a hint of anything. But his face was a mask of indifference. Cool and unattached.

Honestly. It wouldn't kill the man to show some emotion.

She huffed and decided to let the silence envelop them, giving up on the façade of easy conversation her babbling was trying to imitate.

She was tired and confused. Let him diffuse the air for a change.

As they walking along the streets, silence swallowed them the rest of the way home.