"Wait wait wait. Go back. She was what!?" I asked in disbelief, spinning around in my desk chair so fast I almost fell out of it.

"Yep... you heard me." Marshall was laying on my bed, tossing a squishy stress toy up in the air. He was in the middle of ranting to me about all the shit that went down over the past month, but giving all the gory details this time.

"Wow. I don't even know what to say, that's so horrible! Oh, that makes me so upset." My hand was covering my mouth from how shocked and concerned I was. "She's okay right? Please tell me she's okay."

"She's better now. Hopefully being back with Marceline will help her more. But let me finish my story!" He proceeded to tell me about everything that happened, ranting about his selfish frustrations and then about all of the drama that went down this morning. Sometime during his rant, I came over to my bed and laid down next to him, listening intently, concerned and curious. He had stopped tossing that stress ball thing and was now fiddling with it as he talked. I rubbed his arm, absentmindedly pulling at his arm hair every now and then.

"...So then we hugged and said bye and then they left. And then I napped. And now I'm here," he finished and turned to face me again. I grabbed his hand and kissed his fingers, squeezing and rubbing them with my own hand.

"Jeez. Sounds like you had a really stressful couple of weeks. I'm sorry that you all have to go through that." I frowned and he pinched his cheeks together, giggling at my smushed face.

"It's all good. You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine," he said, but the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise.

"I always worry about you," I said with a pout after pushing his hand away.

"You're sweet. But you really don't have to, Bub. If I wasn't I would've already talked to you about it." He interlocked our fingers.

I frowned again. "You didn't the last time when things got really bad."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I promise if I ever start to relapse again, I'll tell you immediately. Got it?"

"You better. Have you been taking your medicine on a regular basis?" I asked, checking up on him. It sounds like he was so focused on Bonnie. I was afraid he wasn't catering to his own needs.

"...Not really..." He said shamefully after thinking about it for a moment.

"Marshall," I scolded. "You're supposed to take them everyday!"

"I've been feeling better, though!" He defended. "A lot better. I haven't felt this happy in a long time."

"No, you've been stressed and tired all month.  You literally just admitted that. That's not progress, my dear."

Marshall rolled his eyes. "Okay but that doesn't mean I'm depressed. I've made progress, I know I have."

"I-... okay, Marshall." I stopped my argument and just left it there. I just wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend, not fight about his mental illnesses. "Please just take your meds. I care about you."

"Yeah yeah," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. He stood up and looked around my room before his eyes landed on my bookshelf. He walked over to it and stared at its contents, skimming through all the organized titles of books and nicknacks. He shifted his weight to one leg and crossed his arms, turning to look at me. "Since you wanna talk about mental problems, when did you do this?" He asked with an accused raised brow, pointing at the bookshelf that was organized by color and in alphabetical order. "It wasn't like that the last time I came over."

I sat up on my bed and crossed my legs. I didn't appreciate him calling me out like this. "I organized it a few days ago, if you must know. It took me over three hours to do, but at least it won't bother me anymore." Lately my bookshelf has been giving me a weird yet familiar sense of anxiety every time I looked at it. And after trying my best to resist the urge to organize it, knowing it'd take forever, it just became too overwhelming to bare it anymore. I had to fix it, and so I did.

"Your OCD is acting up again," he stated matter-of-factly. I tenses up a bit.

"For the last time, I don't have OCD, Marshall. Similar symptoms, maybe, but it's not interfering with my personal life."

"Spending three hours to organize books sounds a bit interfering to me." Suppose it did, but that doesn't mean I had the disorder. And I wasn't going to self-diagnose myself just because I did some things that matched up with the symptoms.

"Kill me for wanting to be clean and organized then, jeez." I sighed, laying back down on my bed. Why do we always have to argue about this sort of thing? Then again, it was my fault for bringing up his medicine in the first place.

"Well I think you have OCD. And are germaphobic." Marshall plopped down on the bed.

"No no. I doubt I have that. I share food with you all the time and have no problem with it. There's germs all over the place and that's... fine." I hesitated a little, suddenly becoming aware of all the dirt and germs that were all over my room and feeling uncomfortable at the thought. Alright, maybe I was a bit germaphobic, I'll give him that. But again, it wasn't ruining my life. I was happy living my clean, completely organized life.

"See, look! You just hesitated. Germaphobe."

"Why are you making fun of me? I don't pressure you about your issues." I pouted, upset that he was trying to force something out of me.

"I'm not making fun, I'm trying to get you to admit that you have OCD." Prove my point even further why don't you...

"Well I don't appreciate it. You're making me feel bad about myself. And why are you trying to force a label on me, Mr. "I'm-not-bisexual-because-I-don't-like-labels"?"

"...Are you inferring that my sexuality is similar to a mental illness? That's not very nice of you to say as a fellow member of the LGBT plus community."

"Alright, now you're just pushing it. You're annoying me, go home." I snatched the stress ball out of his hands and looked at it.

"Rude!" He scoffed. "...Are you inspecting it for germs? Germaphobe." He whispered, solely just to piss me off. I glared daggers at him and chucked the ball at his face.

"I'm serious, Marshall Lee. Stop that." I got up from my bed and sat at my desk, angrily looking through my phone. He was making me feel bad about myself. Not to mention more conscious of all the filth that was around me. I knew I had issues, just like everyone else, but I didn't like him forcing something negative on me. I was living comfortably, there was no need to get help for something that doesn't need fixed.

"Alright alright. I'm sorry for upsetting you. I didn't mean to make you feel bad." I ignored him and continued scrolling. Marshall was quiet for a while, which I appreciated. I don't know why he was being so disrespectful towards me, never once had I made fun of him for being depressed or having panic attacks. And I don't know why he was bringing this up now. I've had always had an issue about dirt and have been doing some "compulsive" things for quite some time. He's never had a problem with my behavior before.

"Bubba..." Marshall said softly. I continued ignoring him. "Bubs. Bubby. Barney. Barnes. Gummy. Gumball..." I gave him a side-eyed glare and he quit talking. I switched to a different social media app. "Babe. I'm sorry... I like you." I ignored him once again and stood abruptly. Marshall sat up and watched me, but I didn't look at him. I walked out of my room, leaving him alone. As I went down the hall I heard an aggravated groan of frustration come from my room. I smirked at successfully being petty and entered the kitchen to see Pepper mopping the floor.

"Out out out! The floor's still wet. Do you need something, honey?" Pepper asked, pushing her sweaty red hair out of her face.

"I was just coming to get some yogurt, but I can wait." I leaned against the doorway, and tucked my phone away in the pocket of my sweatpants. Pepper rested the mop against the island and walked to the fridge, her slippers squeaking the entire time.

"Strawberry or blueberry?" She asked, leaning into the fridge.

"Hm. Both." Marshall will probably want some. She tossed me the small containers.

"Is Marshall still here?" She walked over to the silverware drawer and grabbed two spoons when I nodded. I reached over to grab them. "What's he doing?"

"Sitting in my room, being sad." I ripped off the foil lid of the blueberry yogurt and licked it off.

"Aw, how come?" She went back to mopping.

"He was being a jerk so I'm giving him the silent treatment for a while." Pepper paused her cleaning.

"Do I need to beat him up? What'd he say to you?"

I laughed. "No, Peps. It's nothing serious. He was just calling me a germaphobe and stuff. But it's all good."

"Hmm. Dick." She scrubbed the floor again. I giggled. "But you are a germaphobe, though. He isn't wrong." I rolled my eyes. "You are getting worse, hun. You haven't been this bad since you were a child. I knew I should've gotten you therapy then..."

"I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly fine. It's normal to want to be clean."

Pepper cocked her hip. "Cleaning the bottoms of your shoes every time you step outside isn't normal. Not even for you." I shrugged innocently. "You're getting worse. And I think it might have to do with too much stress. I'm gonna call your principle tomorrow, maybe she can give you an easier class or something."

"What! No way! All my classes are fine. Nothing I can't handle."

"Honey, I'm worried. All you do is study in your free time. And when you're not studying, you're cleaning or organizing."

"That's not true. I hang out with Marshall all the time!" I defended.

"Still. You're work load is too much for your age. You should be going out and having fun. Go get in trouble for glob's sake! Be a kid!" Pepper had put her mop down again. I have fun! But I needed to keep my grades at the very top. How else am I supposed to get into a good college? "You're smart, everybody knows that. You'll have no trouble getting into a pristine college no matter what. Stop worrying about the future, you'll be fine! Live and have fun now, glob knows you won't have time for that by the time you're my age." She seemed to have read my mind. I looked down at my socks.

"People are going to think I'm dumb if I join a lower class," I mumbled, trying to find an excuse.

"No they won't. And even if they do, screw them! Who cares what they think! They don't know your life! Do what makes you happy, Barnaby."

"What if cleaning and studying make me happy?" I countered jokingly. Pepper cocked her hip with sassily raised brow. I laughed. "Fine. I'll talk to Petrikov, alright?"

"You better. If I find out you're lying I'll talk to her myself." She pointed a finger at me. "And if that boy gives you a hard time again, bring him down here and I'll knock his teeth in."

"Pepper! Be nice." She winked at me and I went back up the stairs to my room. I opened the door to see Marshall still sprawled out on my bed with his head hanging off the side. He was typing on his phone, but perked up when he saw me enter. I guess I should still act like I'm mad. Who says I don't have fun?

"Are you still mad at me?" He asked. I stared at him for a solid ten seconds, taking a slow bite of yogurt, before sitting at my desk without saying a word. Marshall groaned and rolled over on his stomach. I giggled to myself. "I'm sorrryyyy! Babe, please just talk to me." I stayed silent, but swiveled around in my chair to face him. "I swear I didn't mean to make you upset. I was just messin." He sounded sincere and actually upset that I was ignoring him. I kind of felt bad, but not really.

I sat my yogurt down and picked up his before walking right up to him. I looked down at him with a straight face, watching as he sat up normally, waiting for my response. After a few seconds of just looking at each other, I grabbed his jaw and leaned down to kiss his lips. A gentle yet forceful kiss, setting my dominance. It was sweet and full of love and if I wasn't pretending to still be mad at him, I probably would've melted into it like every other kiss we shared. I pulled away after a few seconds and Marshall's eyes fluttered open, staring at me with flushed cheeks. I kept my stoic expression and handed the spoon and yogurt container over to him. His eyes shifted down and he grabbed the snack with a confused face.

"...Thanks?" He mumbled. I snuggled back down in my chair. I could feel his eyes on me while I spun around a few times, taking slow bites. I liked messing with him, not going to lie. I heard him grumble in annoyance and then tear off the yogurt lid. I smirked to myself wondering just how long I could do this for. Just a while longer, I thought.

A few minutes passed without a sound. I finished my yogurt and neatly disposed of the container in my trash. But then quickly realized that it could attract ants and/or grow nasty bacteria or something. Deadly bacteria. And I certainly did not want either in my room. I needed to dispose of it somewhere else. But since I already threw it away, that would require reaching into my trash to retrieve it... absolutely not happening. Just the thought of touching all of those germs made my heart speed up.

Maybe Pepper is right... I am getting worse. I never used to feel like this before. It was just my bedroom trash, it's not like I put anything nasty in here. This is fine! Why am I getting so worked up about this? Just put your hand in real quick and get it out... I reached towards the trash slowly, and then quickly stopped. I can't risk it. I stood up normally and looked around for something I could fish it out with.

"What are you doing?" Marshall asked from behind me. I turned towards him. He was looking at me with this expression that I knew meant he thought I was being weird. I narrowed my eyes and ignored him, focusing my attention back to how I was going to get this out of the trash. An idea popped into my head.

There was gloves in my bathroom, I just had to put those on and then problem solved! I walked into my bathroom and searched the drawers and cabinets for rubber gloves. I knew I had them somewhere... Marshall's voice interrupted my search.

"Are you trying to get your yogurt thing outta the trash? You could've just asked me to get it, you know. Or I don't know, take out all your trash instead of picking out this one thing." I blinked and walked out of the bathroom. Taking the bag out would still require putting gloves on anyway. Marshall was standing in front of by little trash bin, staring at me. I stared back. "Do you want me to get it out?" He asked. I glanced down at the bin, and then back at him before nodding. Without hesitation, Marshall reached into the trash and picked it out. "Now what?" He asked, holding the two empty containers.

I still wanted to play out this whole not talking thing so I headed out the door again, signaling Marshall to follow me. I heard him sigh as we jogged down the large staircase. "Still not talkin', eh?" He mumbled. We walked into the kitchen. Pepper was done mopping and the floor was dry. He threw away the containers in the big trash bin under the sink. "Look, I don't care if you forgive me or not. Can you just talk to me? This is getting boring and I'm about to go home if you don't stop this stupid silent treatment shit. Is that what you were planning for? For me to get annoyed and leave?" I shook my head. "Then why-... you know what? Never mind. I don't care anymore. I said I was sorry, alright? I won't make fun of you again. Clearly you do have something wrong after all if you can't even get something outta the trash." He stood with his hands on his hips, clearly annoyed. I stood calmly, just watching him.

Marshall rolled his eyes. "If you're not gonna talk then I'm just gonna leave." He started to walk out of the kitchen and towards the foyer. I watched him walk, ignoring the fact that he didn't wash his hands and also admiring his butt in the basketball shorts he was wearing... Oh crap, he's actually leaving.

"Wait!" I called out, running into the foyer. He paused by the door, his slides already on his feet. He looked at me expectantly. I should talk to him about this... "Let's go for a walk," I said and slipped on my tennis shoes without retrying them. I stared at the laces for a second, noticing how uneven they were. That weird, bad feeling came back and I felt my heart pick up pace. No. Shut up, brain, this is all fine. I ignored the feeling and went passed Marshall outside.

"A walk? Now? It's already dark out."

"Why are you complaining?" I sassed, walking further down the smoothly paved driveway. It was the perfect weather out. Not too hot be out in sweats, but not to cold to need a jacket either. I heard the front door shut, followed by the slapping sound of his slides running up to me. We continued walking down the sidewalk side by side.

"I'm not complaining," he said finally. "And again, I'm sorry for making you upse-"

"Shh!" Marshall quickly shut his mouth. "I don't care about that anymore. I'm sorry for making you bored. And I think it's about time I talk this out with you. Mostly because I need to hear it myself, but you should also know. And I swear if you call me OCD or a germaphobe..." I warned, glaring at him.

Marshall put his hands up in defense. "I won't make fun, I promise. I'll respect you, and help you if needed... And I was just a little aggravated earlier and took it out on you, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pressured you."

"It's whatever. I know you don't like talking about yourself like that. I was just concerned. Anyway! Back to me." We walked further down the sidewalk, further into my "rich neighborhood" as Marshall and Fionna like to call it. The sidewalks were clean and all the lawns of the huge houses were mowed neatly. It was late so none of the annoying suburb kids were out to screech around on their razor scooters. There was no one but us, the moon, and a calm breeze.

"I recently have come to the conclusion that my problem with germs and dirt and such is getting worse. Pepper has made this apparent and believes that this is all due to too much stress in my daily life. I think I can concur-"

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but you're talking like you're presenting a persuasive essay to a college class. Just be real with me, dude. Don't be nervous, I'm here for you." As we went down another side-street, Marshall grabbed ahold of my hand, lacing our fingers together. I sighed, annoyed that he interrupted me, and that he noticed I was nervous.

"Sorry. I forgot you were simple minded." I squeezed his hand and smirked. Marshall scoffed and let go of our hands to push me before lacing them again. "Kidding. But I'll try to dumb it down for you." Marshall rolled his eyes. I laughed. "Anyway. This has been an ongoing problem since I was a kid. I never played in the mud or jumped in puddles like the other kids did. And I always kept my room clean, even when I wasn't told to."

"I can see that."

"Pepper always said I was a stressed little kid. And that she wouldn't be surprised if I had a heart attack before the age of twenty-five," I laughed a little.

"I can see that too," Marshall joked.

"My germ problem used to be really bad. And, let me clarify that I was never diagnosed, everyone said my "OCD" was bad too." I said using air-quotes. I paused for a moment, waiting for Marshall's snarky remark, but it never came. I continued, "Over the years I got better, never worrying about germs and dirt or straightening my belongings, never once feeling like the world was going to end if I didn't do a certain thing correctly. Everything was fine... Up until recently." We took another turn down a side street.

"It's coming back, and worse. And the problem is, I don't know why. Something must have triggered these actions to pop up again, I just don't know what. I don't even know what the underlying problem was in the beginning that started this all! It's not like I was abused or anything. I did some research about OCD a while ago, and some causes were traumatic brain injury, autoimmunity diseases, and a lot more. But none of them apply to me." I felt like I was trying to tell myself this information more than inform him, but I think I needed to hear it. It was frustrating trying to figure this out. "One possibility is genetics, which I guess is the only thing I can go off of right now. Although, I don't know much about my parents, for obvious reasons, and I'm not very close with the rest of my family so who knows about that one... It's just so frustrating not knowing why I'm like this..." I frowned. Marshall stopped walking. I looked back at him, his face being lit up by the street lamp he was standing under.

"Hey. I know how you feel, and it sucks. But I'm here for you. I know how bad it is to feel there's no one out there who knows your struggle. And I know I don't know what you're really going through, I'd like to understand it more. Let me into your mind, Bubbs. What types of things do you think?"

"I think I'm going crazy, that's what!" I exclaimed, grabbing him by the shirt. "These thoughts, Marshall, they're taking over me. I feel like I can't control myself anymore. I really don't know what to do! It's so stupid and I know it's stupid, but I can't help it." I snapped.

"What thoughts, Barnaby?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself a little. "Thoughts about the bookshelf. How if it wasn't fixed, something bad would happen. Germs on my hands, face, everywhere! Ready to infect me and kill me! Thoughts about making sure to check my watch, making sure to check myself to ensure nothing is wrong with my body. Making sure to check all the doors and windows in the house to make sure they're locked so no one can break in. The list goes on and on, Marshall. There's too much to worry about! And it's so stupid! I know there's not deadly germs all over me, I know nothing bad will happen if I don't organize something a certain way, I know the doors and windows are always locked! I know and I can't stop worrying about it all!" I spoke rapidly. I was breathing heavily by now, letting out all my built up anger and stress about this. Marshall watched with me with wide eyes as I basically shouted in his face.

I haven't told anyone about these problems, and usually have tried my hardest to hide my symptoms, mostly because I was trying to avoid admitting the truth to myself. But now I see it's clear. I much as I hate to admit it, I most likely suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder. Something I despised because I knew deep down I had it. I didn't want it to be true. Man, this really sucks.

"...Jeez. I'm sorry." Marshall said simply, but I knew he meant it. "I don't know what to say, Bub." I simply took a deep breath. "That's really awful. I didn't know you've been thinking like that. I- I don't know how to help you..."

I just sighed and released his hoodie from my fists, soothing the black fabric down. "It's fine, don't worry about trying to 'fix me' or, whatever. I just needed to vent. Hopefully I can figure this all out on my own, and get my shit together," I huffed out a laugh, looking up at him, my hands placed on his chest.

"Wait, if you're so concerned about germs, then why don't you have a problem sharing food and kissing and holding hands with me and stuff?" He seemed confused. I was just as confused, I didn't have an answer for that.

"I honestly don't know. I guess I'm just comfortable with your germs." I smiled.

He smiled too. "Well isn't that romantic." He giggled. "And what about cracks on the sidewalk? You don't have problems with those?"

I looked down at the illuminated part of the sidewalk, noticing I was standing directly on a crack. For some reason, that didn't bother me. I shook my head, "Guess not."

"Hm. Interesting. Well, maybe it's about time we head back, I'm getting tired," he laughed a little.

"Yeah probably," I sighed. "Can we stay here for a sec?" I asked, an idea popping in my head. It's been a while since we had a good make out session. Plus it'd be nice to forget about all this stress for a while.

"Sure. What for?"

I slid my hands over his shoulders seductively and pressed my chest against his. "No reason," I smirked, immediately latching my lips to his.

"Oh. Okay." He smiled after our faces pulled away. His lips found mine again, and his hands gripped gently at my hips and waist. We continued to kiss repeatedly, loving every second of it. The world around us was blocked out. It was just us, standing in the spotlight. My hand gravitated towards his thick hair and I ran my fingers through it, admiring its softness. I felt Marshall let out a hum and the grip on my waist tightened. I loved being this close to him, but longed to be closer. I've wanted to take the next step in our relationship, but from past attempts, I knew he wasn't ready to go that far. But today's a new day, it couldn't hurt to try again.

"Marshall," I sighed against his lips, running my other hand up and down his chest. I bit his bottom lip gently, licking it slightly with my tongue before sticking it in his mouth. Our tongues met and wrestled. Neither trying to win dominance, but more to taste and savor the flavors of each other. That's kind of gross to think about, but I tried to focus less on that and more on trying to turn Marshall on.

It seemed to work a little bit. I felt a hand of his go lower and lower until it rested on my butt, giving it a little squeeze. It was time to turn it up a notch since saying his name and frenching obviously wasn't good enough. The second time he squeezed my butt it was firmer, so I decided to let out a little moan to get things going. He seemed to like it as his kiss was a tad rougher and needier. Another step farther.

I kissed back, just as rough, and tugged on his hair harder. Another hum emerged, but I needed more out of him. I placed a hand to the small of his back and firmly pressed my pelvic region closer to his, my hand pulling him even closer. The hand squeezing my butt tightened and his lips separated from mine to let out a quiet moan. I smirked, proud, and attached my lips to his neck. I sucked and nibbled on the tender skin and he moved to give me more space. I continued to create a hickey on his neck, encouraged by his soft moans and sighs. As I kissed his neck and continued putting pressure on our groins, I felt a firmness start to press against mine. Perfect. I smirked against his neck.

Suddenly, I was pushed away by strong hands. I stumbled back and my eyes popped open to see Marshall covering his eyes. Our breaths were rapid and heavy, and Marshall's lips were swollen and irritated from kissing. I assumed mine were as well. While Marshall was covering his eyes, I glanced down at what was pressing against me and smirked a little. Inside of Marshall's red basketball shorts was a lump. It wasn't big enough for him to be fully hard, but at least I succeeded in getting him a little excited this time.

Marshall let out a breathy chuckle and removed his hand away from his eyes. He glanced down at himself and let out another breathy laugh before turning away from me. "That's... embarrassing..." he said. I got another idea and crept up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing my body to his.

"Don't be embarrassed," I whispered in his ear. "You know... we could go back to my room and maybe I could help you out there..." I whispered seductively, moving my hand down his chest and abs, creeping towards his-

"Um!" Marshall jerked away, taking a few steps back, covering his junk with his hoodie. "You know, I- uh. I think it's pretty much gone down by now. N-no help needed." He laughed nervously, looking around. "We should really head back. Don't wanna get mugged and killed in the dark! Heh, you know how those murderers are..." he cleared his throat and quickly turned on his heel, walking back where we came. He really does have a nice butt... I sighed and rubbed my face. I screwed up again.

I shook my head and took out my phone, complaining to Fionna as I followed behind Marshall, who was practically speed walking.

-Ugh! I messed it up again! I complained to Fionna over text.

-Really? What'd u do wrong this time? She replied  a few minutes later, used to me complaining about my sexual frustrations.

- I think I was too forward. I scared him off ):

-He's clearly not ready to go that far with a dude Gumball. Maybe you should wait for him to make a move?

-Blegh! I'm desperate! I haven't had any action in months ):

-Well who's fault is that for getting with the straight guy?

- ...mine. Ugh! You don't understand, Fi! He talks so much game, but the second I wanna go further, he backs out! I HAVE BEEN DOUCHING ALMSOT EVERYDAY FOR THE PAST MONTH BC I ALWAYS THINK WERE GONNA GO FURTHER. ...I don't get it. I thought he was an easy guy to get with. ?

-With girls yea. Talk it over with him, idiot! Find out why he keeps backing out. I think it's bc he's never been with a guy and doesn't know what to do.

-Sigh. You're right. I'll talk to him some other time. Sorry for ranting, I'm just sexually frustrated.

-lol I get it. And maybe quit douching until you're sure it's time? I feel like that's not something you're supposed to do on the regular.

-Whatever. I like to be clean and prepared at all times. (;

-Gross!

-Lol love you Fi

-Yeah yeah. Go tend to your man

Before I knew it we were already walking up the driveway to my house. Marshall was already at the door by the time I walked up to the porch. We made awkward eye contact before entering the house. Pepper greeted us from the living room.

"Hello, boys! Where were you two?" She asked.

"We just took a walk. That's it. It's a really beautiful night out." I responded, taking off my shoes. I wanted to put them down and walk away, but of course, that sick feeling arose and I was drawn back to them. I picked them up, making sure not to touch the bottoms, and took them to the industrial sink in the laundry room. Marshall followed me, seeming interested. "You're not cleaning your stupid shoes are you?" Pepper called out. I didn't respond and slipped on some rubber gloves.

Turning on hot water and grabbing the cleaning toothbrush, I began to scrub down the bottoms of my tennis shoes, making sure not to miss any crevices. Marshall was leaning against the washer, watching me with confused interest. Ten minutes later, at the least, when I was finally finished cleaning my shoes of any dirt, I washed my hands and set my shoes on a shelf-rack to dry. Marshall was half asleep, lazily resting on the washing machine. I nudged him and told him he could sleep over. He blushed a little and stood, walking with me back to my room.

"Is he staying over?" Pepper asked from the couch.

"Yeah, if that's okay."

"Sure. But no funny business! I want your door open!" Pepper scolded, going back to her paranormal show. She's been obsessed with those lately.

"Thanks, Pep! See you in the morning!" I ran up the stairs, quickly noticing Marshall was already in my room.

"Do you do that every time you go out?" Marshall asked, plopped down in my desk chair.

"Sometimes," I replied, kind of ashamed. Marshall just hummed. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. You can pick out your own pajamas and head to bed if you want."

He picked at his hoodie. "I was just gonna wear these-" I cleared my throat and looked at him expectantly. "Orrr... I'll, find some new pajamas." He corrected. I smiled and entered the bathroom to take a shower. He had gone all day in those clothes and even went outside to get who knows what on them. I didn't want his dirty clothes all in my bed.

After I cleaned off, I dried and dressed and exited the bathroom. It was dark in my room and the only source of light came from the bed, where Marshall's face was lit up by his phone screen. He glanced at me before going back to his phone. I think I really screwed up earlier. I should apologize.

I crawled into bed, snuggling up in my covers, facing him. "Marsh." He glanced at me again. "Listen, I'm sorry I keep trying to pressure you into-"

"Whoa. You're not pressuring me, Bubbs. And you don't have to apologize either. I should be the one apologizing for holding us back."

"No no. Don't say that. You're not ready and that's perfectly fine. I'll stop trying to influence you to go further." That earned a scoff.

"...well I'm still sorry." He went back to looking at his phone.

"Can I ask why?" He looked at me again. "Why you can be with any girl but not with me?" That might've sounded more bitter than intended. Marshall just stared at me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Can we talk about this later? I'm too tired." He turned his phone off and tossed it somewhere on the floor. I sighed.

"Sure." I wanted to know now. But I guess it could wait. I know it's still early in our relationship, but I can tell that's not why we're not going further. I was starting to feel insecure, and have doubts that maybe he'd never want to be with me sexually. That maybe he didn't actually like guys like that. Experimenting bisexuals can dangerous that way. I didn't want to be hurt like that again. But I blocked those thoughts when Marshall snuggled up to me. I smiled a little and kissed his head, wrapping my arms around him protectively. I really hoped that he wouldn't break my heart one day. We laid in each other's arms for a while in silence. It wasn't tense, but it wasn't comfortable either. It was as if we both had something to say, but decided against it.

"Marshall," I started, not knowing where I was going with this. He pulled his face from my neck and looked up at me through the darkness. I wanted to apologize for my rude question and tell him that I love him, that I respect his choice on not wanting to go further, but I was at loss for words. Marshall's eyes narrowed when I didn't continue. "I... I don't know. I just wanted to talk longer, I guess."

He let out a huff and shifted in the bed, turning away from me. "Talk to yourself then. I'm going to sleep." I frowned and reached out to touch him, only to stop and sigh, letting my hand fall.

"...Goodnight," I whispered, earning no response back.

I really screwed up.

                            >>>>><<<<<

Apologies, this is a dumb chapter. Idk why I decided to randomly make Gumball have OCD but whatever. Also, sorry it's so jumpy. I honestly don't care anymore lol

So shool ends in about a month! That's cool I guess. Lately I've been super busy with helping create prom and going to drumline practices.

Don't you hate it when you make plans and sign up for stuff when you're in a good mood, and then regret everything when you go back to your depressive state? Me rn.

Anyway, thanks for reading and voting and commenting and all that stuff! You guys are sooo amazing and funny and I can't thank you enough for giving me over 20k reads. So crazy! ❤️

I'll see you in the next chapter! 😉