No Sense

Pursuit

Practically dancing out of the elevator to the amusement of the occupants staying on the lift, Mabel reached the room and unlocked the door. In complete disbelief that it had finally happened, she leapt spread-eagle onto the bed, letting her form bounce merrily into the air before finally settling into the sheets.

'Holy crap,' she swooned, rolling onto her back, shoes still on her feet.

As much as she was typically unashamed of emoting in front of others and letting her eccentric personality run roughshod over countless parties, what she felt inside was so staggeringly powerful, all she could to was grin at the ceiling like an idiot. Running through the words they spoke, the tears they shed, the kisses they shared...it was everything her heart had been yearning for.

Part of her was a bit gun-shy, considering how the months following their last intimate encounter went. Yet, this felt very different and much more permanent. His demeanor and language wasn't rushed, but was thoughtful and honest, as though he had laid awake in the tub the entire night, working out what he was going to say, realizing he was tired of running, not just from happiness, but the truth, as well.

Soaking in the endorphins, closing her eyes and holding onto the moment as tightly as she could, wishing to store it away for safekeeping, she hummed contentedly. Her mind was already running through each of those aforementioned events, switching the status of their possibility from 'unlikely' to 'hell yes'. The spaces in between those scheduled milestones were then filled with date nights, weekend getaways, and smooches in the hallway when their parents were out of earshot.

In an oddly mature fashion, however, she decided to refocus on the wonderful day before her, putting a bookmark in her thoughts for the time being. Mainly, this was because she felt as though her heart might explode if she continued. That said, she also wanted to savor each day they would have henceforth as boyfriend and girlfriend. It was a dream that had become a reality, and she wouldn't take one second for granted.

Sitting up, taking a deep breath to center her boundless energy, she turned on the television and awaited for Dipper's arrival. After flipping through the hotel's entertainment offerings, she settled upon a Saturday matinee of Bridget Jones's Diary, relishing the eye roll she would get upon Dipper's recognition of the selection. She slipped out of her coat and cap, and kicked her shoes off before strolling over to her luggage, hoping to see something she could use to change up her look.

A handful of minutes later, she heard a knock at the door and decided to try her game once more, hoping for a different result.

"Who is it?" she chimed in a sing-songy fashion.

"Uh...housekeeping," Dipper replied with a bemused chuckle.

"Oh! Housekeeping, huh? Are you here to turn my bed down?" Mabel's reply was dripping with a fake sultriness usually reserved for bad romance films from the eighties.

"Ummm..." Dipper replied from the other side of the door, now giggling unabashedly, employing his own cheesy, tough-guy affectation, "yeah, and I've got the mints, too."

"Oh my! Are you getting 'fresh' with me, mint-man?" she countered, trying her best to keep a straight-face at least while speaking.

"You're gonna be so fresh th— oops, excuse me. Sorry. I was...uh..."

Hearing the drastic shift into a doggedly apologetic tone, Mabel knew what must have happened in the hallway, and fell into the door, dying of hilarity.

"Mabel, let me in!" Dipper pled, to which she granted his wishes, reaching down to disengage the latch and let the unappreciated performance artist in.

"Oh my God," Mabel continued cracking up as a red-faced Dipper passed through the doorway holding a bag, briskly shutting it behind him. While he was clearly exasperated, he wasn't upset, even if he intended to appear as such.