MARYLENE MICROFIC | prompt: Christmas lights for @sapphicmarauding
Marlene jolted awake to the sound of a loud crash. Midday sun shined through the dormitory windows and flannel sheets rested warm and heavy on her arms. "What--" she began to ask as a familiar head popped up from out of sight.
"Sorry, sorry," Mary hurriedly said, dragging herself up. She sounded out of breath. Sunlight warmed half her face, highlighting the warm brown, almost rusty strands of her dark hair. "Didn't mean to wake you. But it's noon, y'know. But it's also the weekend. So--"
"What are you doing?" Now that some of the sleepy blur had faded from her vision, a picture was starting to take form. Hanging garlands of lights. Tinsel wrapped around the bed posts. Paper snowflakes clipped to the curtains.
"I'm decorating! For Christmas," she added, like Marlene didn't know the calendar date.
There were questions she could've asked. Like, why didn't you wait 'til I woke up? Or, why didn't you ask for help? But Marlene figured both boiled down to this one, "Are you not going home for holiday break?"
Mary's shoulders sagged, her gaze dropping to the glitter-speckled floor. "No. I just, y'know…"
"I know." They'd had hushed conversations over wandlight while their roommates slept. She'd caught glimpses of letters from home while curled around Mary's back. Marlene wasn't sure what was the straw that broke the hippogriff's back, but she had the puzzle pieces. "Come here."
Mary didn't hesitate. The bed sank beneath her weight and Marlene's arms were open, welcoming her and her warmth and her softness. Welcoming her grief and her bottled up emotions. Marlene placed her chin on the top of her head and closed her eyes. Neither of them were good at silence, but it spoke for both of them in that moment.
"Thank you," Mary whispered, after an unknown number of quiet beats.
"Thank you for decorating. Makes staying here this holiday all the better."
