glow up [marin]

"I know it's going to be cold, Marin, but I still need to look cute," she said with exasperation as she paced in his dorm, nervous energy filling her up to the brim as she thought about her pending date with Ezra tomorrow, her heart flipping inside her chest with anxiety and anticipation and excitement. But mostly nervousness.

It was safe to say Wini had been a mess the past few days. And Marin was lucky enough to be witness to all of it.

After dinner (which she had talked through endlessly about the perfect date hairstyle, the meaning of a Valentine's date and whether or not that meant you were actually dating, and of course, her minute by minute update of how she was feeling about said pending date), she had commandeered his dorm with a pile of ear-marked Witch Weekly magazines and a stack of clothing options that were now spread out over his bed. She had shooed him to the chair at his desk and had told his dormmates to skedaddle unless they planned on doing face masks too. She hadn't heard a peep from them since.

So there she was with Marin, both of them wearing dark green face masks, hers starting to dry and crack, as she fretted over her outfit choice. "Well? What do you think?" she said as she swirled a piece of her long hair around her finger nervously.

@Marin Clare

“Mhmm.”

Marin had learned a long time ago that he only had to listen to about a third of what Wini said to understand the general gist of it. In moments like this or – he glanced up at her, mildly alarmed by the “face mask” that looked more like monster make up, to him – in states like this, that dropped to at most a quarter. He moved his mouth a bit, scrunching his lips idly to one side. It had been slimy when she’d applied it, and he while he generally didn’t like slimy things, he especially didn’t like them touching his skin. And that went double for face-skin. Marin didn’t mind doing things like nail-painting or hair-braiding – those were sort of fun, and he only ever did that stuff with Wini – but he was deeply uncomfortable on a tactile level with the now-drying mask on his face. He was trying not to let it stress him out.

Which… is why, he thought, reading the words in his mind as his hand moved across the page, writing them, the counter-charm… was… adapted… in nineteen-twenty-seven… He was quiet for a second, but so was she, and that wasn’t a good sign. Probably meant he’d missed something. The teenager glanced up, looking at her before looking at the pile of clothes on his bed. “Um.” Okay, so he hadn’t been listening, but he could take the cues here and guess that she wanted an outfit opinion, right? He wasn’t sure why she asked – it wasn’t as if she’d wear anything except what she wanted to in the end, anyway. Emotional support maybe, he reasoned.

“Didn’t you say you can’t sit down in that skirt?” he asked, nodding at one item. It probably wasn’t an answer that she’d been asking for, but felt pertinent regardless.

Normally, Wini would be perfectly fine with knowing that Marin was only half-listening. It was mostly okay because she knew he would tune in and speak up when she really needed feedback. She was quite aware of the face that she could talk to a wall for two hours straight and not run out of things to say, and sometimes the chattering made her less anxious, but tonight felt different. She wanted everything to be perfect tomorrow.

So when Marin looked up at her with a blank expression, she made an impatient huff and frowned at him, before gesturing to the outfits covering his bed. "Oh! You're right, you're right," she muttered as she snatched the skirt and threw it haphazardly against his headboard. Then surveyed her options again. She just kept thinking of the last time she and Ezra had started talking and she felt like they had hit it off, but then he ghosted her for another girl before owling her again. He had apologized which was sweet of him and she really liked Ezra so of course, she had brushed it off, but she still couldn't stop the worries from crowding her mind that it might happen again.

And maybe picking the perfect outfit would prevent that. She chewed on her thumbnail, scrunching her nose as the face mask dried and felt tight across her cheeks, as she flipped a few options around. "Skirt to show off some leg, but sweater to keep me a little warm. Plus I really like this sweater. Oh and those boots? You know the ones I got last summer?" she asked with a glance over at Marin. She sighed and took a step back, she had almost decided, but not quite.

Wini grabbed one of the quills off his desk and flipped open a few of the Witch Weekly pages she had ear-marked. Research, she had called it. What's Your First Date Style? was the first one and she started filling out the quiz, ignoring the fake answers she had done months ago just for fun. It was different now that she had an actual real date pending. "Think that he'll dress up though? Think I should show up fashionably late or right on time?" she asked, question after question as she poked the face mask on her cheek.

Her huff confirmed his suspicions. He briefly tried to focus and be more attentive. They both knew his opinion wasn’t actually very helpful though: she wasn’t trying to appeal to him with her outfit choice, after all. He quirked an eyebrow slightly as she threw the skirt away from the rest of the pile. The mask cracked on that side of his forehead for emphasis.

Skirt to show off some leg? “You know it’s February, right?” he asked flatly. “Better take your wand.” Not that anyone really went anywhere without their wands – especially now that he and Wini were both technically adults – but he was making a point. Personally, Marin thought it would be strange to be in something short with magically heated legs, but what did he know? The only “dates” he’d been on were more or less thrust upon him by Wini, and she was usually present. Sometimes in the booth over. Often quickly ended. He’d decided he wasn’t doing any more of that.

A part of him registered that she was stressed, but the mask was making him irritable. Marin went back to his paper. Briefly considered… a fundamental… in the curriculum… “I don’t think you should be late,” he said absentmindedly. “Doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

"I know, I know," she said, the double talk habit showing up with the nervous flutters she was feeling in her stomach. "It's already on my reminder list," she told him. Wait, where did that list go? The blonde checked the pocket of her Hufflepuff gold sweater but came up empty-handed. She was really trying to focus on the excitement, but she couldn't completely ignore the light anxiety that had cropped up over the last few days. Maybe she just didn't want to mess it up or maybe she just really liked Ezra and the prospect of having a dream Valentine's date at Puddifoot's, but she had gravitated toward Marin and his calm, comforting presence.

"Marin," she announced suddenly as she looked up at him, calling his name to get him to tune in when she really needed his attention. "I'm nervous about tomorrow. Why am I so nervous. It's not like we haven't hung out before, or went on a date before 'cause New Year's was probably a date, right?" she bit her lip as she met his gaze, this time really wanting his answer, needing it. Her eyes ran over the familiar lines of his face, slightly hidden beneath the cake of the clay mask.

She was up off the bed a moment later, unable to sit still as she grabbed her wand off where she had tossed it on his desk and nudged his chin up as she stood in front of him. He was sitting and she was not and she wasn't even that much higher than him given his height even when he was sitting. How annoying. She could use a few extra inches and he had some to spare. "Cmere," she said as she slowly waved her wand over his face, charming off the mask. "Better?"

Well, at least she had a list, he thought. That was pretty organised, for Wini. He made a mental note to check over it before the date, or, better yet — “Like, a written one?” he asked. It had suddenly occurred to him that she might mean something far less substantial than a piece of parchment. “Can I see it?” Marin. “Winifred,” he replied, in the same kind of announcing-tone that she’d had when she said his name. He looked up, though, brow slightly furrowed. She was nervous. That was… well, he supposed it was to be expected, though this whole situation felt a little odd to him. “Um,” he said, feeling like it was a bit of a trap question. She’d called it a date, so it was a date, right? Why did she seem so uncertain now?

There was a part of him that wasn’t so into this whole dating thing of hers. It wasn’t jealousy — or if it was, then it wasn’t in the usual sense — but it was uncomfortable. His quill hovered above his paper, but he couldn’t focus on anything with the stuff on his face and Wini asking potentially-rhetorical questions, looking nervous like that.

Suddenly, she was on her feet. He tilted his chin compliantly as she held her wand up. He scrunched his face up and relaxed it a couple of times as the mask disappeared, feeling much better when it was gone. “A lot, thank you,” he said. Marin put his quill down, turning so he could face her properly. He slouched a little; their height disparity was too small considering he was sitting on a chair. After a beat, he took one of her hands in his. “Winifred,” he said again, more serious this time. “Are you doing okay?”

"I thought I wrote it down somewhere. Have you seen it?" she asked as she flipped up some of her outfits that were spread across his bed, searching for a piece of parchment she was almost sure she had shown him at some point. Or had she written it down at all? Or maybe thought she was going to write down the list but hadn't yet. She wasn't usually this disorganized, a lie she told herself.

"Don't do that," she chided quietly as he scrunched his face, making it harder to get the bits stuck in the crinkles around his eyes, but a few minutes later, he was in the clear and she gave him an easy "you're welcome" before stepping back a half step and leaning against his desk. Still close to him because that made her feel better, but giving him the space he seemed to like. She stared down at her bare feet for a moment, quiet, not sure which of her anxious thoughts to voice first. It was an unusual, uncomfortable moment for her.

At the touch of his hand, she brought her gaze back to his, blinking with surprise. Her heart squeezed at his thoughtfulness and his worry and she instinctively squeezed his hand back as he held hers between his. She gave him a little nod and what she hoped was a brave smile as a default reaction. Then she changed her mind and gave him a little shake of her head too. Wini knew she could be honest with her best friend, but it still felt like she would crack open if she shared too much. She felt safe with him though so she said, "I think so, yes? But I.. I keep worrying about like.. what if I'm not interesting enough or something? I mean, he's older, he's not a student anymore. I don't want to scare him off or something, remember how he stopped owling me after Halloween?" She gave him a shrug and squeezed his hand again before rolling her eyes. "I know I'm just being silly though," she added, quick to dismiss her own worries. It was much easier for her to deal with positive emotions so that's where she always ended up focusing.

“Hmm.” Marin made a sound partway between disapproving and thoughtful as he pulled out his wand. She was tossing things around on her bed and he tried to ignore the distraction as he pictured her writing, the hearts she sometimes still did over her ‘I’s, and the shape of the parchment. He pictured the list, and filled it with practical things, as well as a few nonsense things he was sure she’d add. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on it.

“Accio,” he said quietly, his mind laser-focused. Marin opened his blue eyes just in time to see a piece of paper shooting towards him. He held a hand up to catch it, and did so with minimal fumbling. “This it?” he asked, leaning forward to offer the paper to her without checking it. Even if it wasn’t the right one (it had definitely been her writing!), he felt pretty smug about summoning something he’d never seen before and could only imagine.

Marin only nodded at her words, knowing that he was barely needed for that kind of conversation. That is, the kind where Winifred voiced her concerns and then quickly dismissed or undermined them. Sometimes it went back and forth a little, with him just nodding or looking out a window, before she’d cut in with a don’t you think? and then he’d nod some more, or attempt some advice from his position of not having done anything or knowing anything that might be useful. “I suppose don’t talk about school things then?” he offered.

"Oh so I did show it to you?" she asked as he accioed it easily, assuming that since he had found it so easily. Why hadn't she thought of that. She was so scatter-brained and she was lucky that he was rock solid like usual. She took it from his hands and worried her lip as she looked it over. She grabbed one of his quills from the neat row on his desk and added another few things to the bottom. Then scratched out something. Then added something new. She set the list down and nodded. It looked good, but she left it on the desk in case Marin thought of something else that she didn't think of. They made a good team.

"You think?" she asked as her gaze found his again and she thought about that. "I guess I can do that. I mean, I did come up with a few conversation starters just in case I couldn't think of anything to say, but I'll just cross out the school related ones. But you know how I am when I get nervous. I just blather on and on and sometimes I can't stop myself and I'll probably end up talking about Potions or you or spring break or I don't know," she was working herself up into a tizzy and her stomach felt tight with nerves. She made herself stop as she looked down at her cutely painted pink toe nails. Wini took a breath and then another before she looked back at her best friend.

"Tell me everything is going to be ok and that it's going to go great tomorrow?" she asked, more of a question, searching for his quiet reassurance.

No, she hadn’t shown it to him, but he felt a bit strange saying so — like he’d be bragging or something, if he said no? Feeling smug in his own brain, about his own achievements, was one thing, but the idea of boasting made him feel sour. “Maybe,” Marin mumbled non-committedly, passing it to her.

You know how I am when I get nervous. She was doing it right now, he thought; she was babbling, saying the same thing four different ways, absolutely no brain-mouth filter at all. Marin wondered vaguely what it felt like for every thought to immediately morph into a spoken work. Wini made it work because of who she was, but for him it’d probably be far more embarrassing and less endearing.

“I mean…” he trailed off as she looked at him, then asked for more reassurance. He was going to say that he’d only suggested she leave off school topics in direct response to her specific worry about this guy seeing her as immature (or whatever it was that she’d specifically said).

Marin sighed, then got to his feet. He held his arms out for her, making a couple of summoning motions with his hands, waving her over to him. “Come here,” he said, beckoning.

Wini looked at Marin, wondering for what felt like the billionth time how on this big blue planet could he stay so calm? Like all the time? He always seemed so steady and for her, who was very susceptible to the highs and lows of her feelings, it was a wonder and a mystery. It wasn't the first time that she had wondered at how they had become best friends, two very different people. Then again, it's not like that was changing anytime soon. He was stuck with her for life at this point.

That little thought was mildly reassuring. Even if it went horribly, disastrously wrong and she embarrassed herself so much so that she would never want to date again, at least Marin would still be her friend.

And what a friend he was! Wini's brown eyes widened a little as he opened his arms and it took her a second to realize what he was doing. Was he... inviting her in for a hug?? Wini could probably count on one hand how many times this had happened because usually she was the initiator, but she was not going to miss this opportunity. She shuffled closer, a small smile turning bigger at the little waves of his hand, until her arms were wrapped around his waist tight, her cheek against his chest. She sighed against him and somehow it immediately made her feel better.

She was going to add Marin Hugs to her Christmas list next year.

Marin hugged her — not nearly as tightly as she was hugging him — and patted her back gently with one large hand. She’d always said he gave good hugs, and used to complain that he was so frugal with them. The proximity just didn’t seem as important to him as it did to almost everyone else. His mum was a very touchy person, but even they’d been doing light arm touches or high-fives instead of hugs for years now.

“You’ll be fine,” Marin said, which was pretty appropriate for the situation. “And if it’s a disaster, at least you won't have to see him ever again,” he added helpfully — perhaps a little less appropriate. Wini’s last Big Crush had been another seventh year, and even Marin felt mildly annoyed that he had to pass that boy most days in class.

His hugs really were the best and she still needed to find a way to get him to do them more often, but for now she just reveled in the quiet comfort that he provided, savoring every second because she knew it couldn't last forever. Wini heard the quiet rumble of his words from within his chest, her ear and cheek pressed against him and she gave a little nod in response.

"Thanks Clarebear," she murmured quietly, a smile tugging at her lips as she teased him with the nickname he didn't really like, but his grumpy look never failed to amuse her. But at his second comment, she pulled pack and frowned up at him. "It won't be a disaster," she said, but it sounded more like a question, her brows pulled together. He wasn't wrong though. "At least it's better than when I crushed on Theo," she mused a second later. She had still had to see him everyday in class and that had been rough.