She sits at the stable, back down and elbow on the table and hand on her cheek as she stares (not-wistfully) out the window, at the students outside. Alice tries to ignore all the students around her, feverishly sketching in their books, brows furrowed. She tries to recall how Marianne had convinced her to model for the art class, but the memory comes up null and none.

Finally, the cue that they're finished comes out, all pens and pencils down and students moving away. She clears her throat a bit, and peeks at the clock. Only thirty more minutes left, and she can high-tail it out of here and head to her literature class. She stands up and adjusts her red plaid skirt, plucks at her tattered black tights and runs a hand through her long blonde hair she normally keeps in pig-tails.

The art professor points for her to sit outside, against the wall, with a book out. Easy enough, still awkward. She had informed Marianne that she'd be willing, so long as she doesn't have to get naked (because that's a private thing-just for the two of them). Position assumed, some people walk by and stare, curiously.

When Alfred comes by and gives her a little smirk, she's tempted to throw her book at him, especially as he lingers. Doesn't he have a boyfriend to get to? Somehow, with strength from somewhere, she retains her violent urge and forces herself to read the words on the page. They go over her, yet it's her favorite book, able to recite it word for word. Eventually, Alfred leaves, snickering to himself and she makes note to kick him later.

Soon, but not soon enough, they were done. The professor thanks her with a kind smile, and Marianne offers to walk her to class once she's done putting her stuff away.

"F-fine. If you must." Is her only answer, face red. Marianne pecks her lips, with a little chuckle. Alice allows Marianne to hold her hand (not because she wants Marianne to! Of course not!) and pretends not to notice when she steps closer to the French woman. They reach the building she needs to go to, students filing out and entering, and they both linger for a moment. Tell-tale signs of their little make out session is a little noticeable and she wonders if they added in that detail.

"You were beautiful."

"D-don't say that."

Marianne leans in and softly kisses her. "I love you, Alice."

"I love you too," She mumbles.

"Have a good day in class."

"S-same to you."

And they part, reluctant to let go of the others hand.

–

Their dorm is empty when Alice gets home, Marianne not in sight and she assumes her girlfriend is out with Antonio and Gilbert. She sets her messenger bag aside and heads to their little cupboard and files through their choices of food, finding only instant ramen and she sighs. Not really their choice in food, but it tends to be a quick go to.

So, she checks their little fridge and takes out a water bottle and sits in her desk chair, turning on her laptop and picks at the sticker of the Union Jack that shimmers slightly. When it finishes starting up, Alice clicks open a new document, and sighs again as she starts her essay. First, though, she heads to the internet, clicks through her emails (mostly from her professors about things and one from Alfred about something she doesn't really care about) and finally, goes to a music website and turns on one of her favorite playlists.

The music plays low, but still fills the air of the dorm room and she finally starts on her essay.

Alice doesn't hear Marianne enter, she doesn't become aware of Marianne's presence until she's nearly to the conclusion, which is when Marianne had wrapped her arms around Alice's waist, chin resting on top of her head and reading the words on the screen.

"Bonjour, mon amour." There's a little smirk on Marianne's face as Alice jerks away and falls sideways, out of her chair. The laugh that follows after makes Alice throw the nearest thing at her, which was just a bra.

"When did you get here?" Alice half yells, struggling hard to keep her voice down.

"Oh relax, would you? It isn't like I caught you watching porn or anything." The laughter breaks up her sentences and her eyes shine with mirth.

"Fuck you! You scared me!"

"So jumpy." Marianne helps her up and plants a kiss on her forehead. "I just got home, don't worry."

"Where were you?"

Marianne points to the bags by the door. "Groceries. We were out."

"Oh, I figured you were out with your friends." Marianne makes a humming noise as she runs her fingers through Alice's thick, long hair.

"They invited me to a party tonight," Marianne replies. "And I would like to know if you wish to come with as well."

"I'd rather stay home tonight."

"Then I'll stay with you," Marianne says. "We haven't had time alone together in awhile."

"It's fine if you want to go. I have a lot of homework,"

"I don't mind. I just want to spend time with you,"

Alice doesn't argue, as she goes back to her homework and Marianne lays on her bed, noisily flipping through a magazine. Alice submits her now finished essay to her professor, and begins on her history essay, growing bored with every click.

"Can I sketch you again?" Marianne asks, out of nowhere, breaking the silence.

Initially, Alice refuses and it takes a little bit of convincing and promising things before Alice finally gives in but there's a little smile on her face as she complies with Marianne's requests. They were simple poses, and Alice finds herself thoroughly enjoying the one on one attention.

They end up going outside for more, where Alice enjoys climbing in one of the trees and staying there and as soon as it got too dark to continue, they head inside where Marianne somehow convinces Alice to strip down to her undergarments.

Without any hesitation, Alice does so. She almost cracks a Titanic joke but manages not to, and without thinking, hops onto her bed and pulls the sheets around herself.

"Alice-"

"I'm cold."

Marianne rolls her eyes and shakes her head, looking at her almost full sketchbook. "I'll have to buy a new one soon," she laments, woefully. "It's filled with you, and not better subjects."

"But I'm your favorite." Marianne doesn't answer as she begins to move her hand. "Right?"

"Hush," So Alice focuses on Marianne's slender, bony hands as they move, expertly across the paper. It's oddly poetic to Alice, each curve and each pause. Every so often, she stops and erases, and then continues. After awhile, Marianne puts down both sketchbook and pencil, and stands up.

"You're done already?"

"No." Marianne admits. "I'm distracted."

"By what?"

The French woman climbs on the bed and cups Alice's chin. "You."

It isn't a secret that Marianne finds the human body to be a beautiful thing, and it also isn't a secret that she likes to take things teasingly slow when it comes to sex. Passion is more important than fucking, but Alice likes fucking more than passion.

Passionate fucking, though, Alice can compromise with.

The kisses are feathery soft, almost teasing as Marianne reaches around and unhooks Alice's bra. They only break long enough for her to pull it off her, fingers dragging down Alice's arms sensually. Fingers intertwine for a brief moment as Alice moves in and kisses her.

Marianne breaks the kiss again, pressing her lips against Alice's cheeks and works her way around to her ear, where she nibbles at the shell, while her other hand plays with Alice's navel piercing. She drags her tongue down to her neck and softly sucks.

Alice closes her eyes, and draws in a breath that sounds almost like a moan as she tugs at Marianne's blue camisole, as a way to tell Marianne she wants it off. Clothes are slowly removed, and they make a lot of eye contact.

"Hurry it up!" Alice huffs, after awhile, glaring hard.

"Let me enjoy you." Marianne whispers as she looms over Alice, peering down at her. She hears Alice's tongue ring click against her teeth. "You are my favorite subject, for sure."

"Good."

Marianne chuckles a little and moves down. She starts at Alice's foot, kissing the bottom and her toes, to her ankles and moves up to her legs. Each kiss is soft and small, almost peck-like kisses and she nips at her thigh, and kisses at her hip. Finally, she reaches Alice's mouth again and slip her tongue in past those soft lips, and Alice quickly rises to meet her.

Meanwhile, she feels Alice's hands move up and down her torso, stopping to play with her larger breasts and gripping her hips. Marianne shivers as she feels Alice make circular motions with the pads of her thumbs before slipping down and a finger rubs over her clitoris. The moan Marianne releases is enough encouragement for Alice to continue.

Soon, Alice slips a finger inside, the walls around her tighten as she strikes against a very familiar spot and soon, she slides in another finger. Pumping both of those fingers in and out, her thumb goes to rub over the sensitive nub as Marianne roughly sucks at Alice's neck, struggling to keep herself from moaning too loudly.

The walls around Alice's fingers clamp down as Marianne cums, and gingerly, Alice removes her fingers and brings them up to her mouth. She sucks the appendages clean, and her other hand entangles in Marianne's now messy, sweaty long hair and she pushes Marianne's head down, towards her own vagina.

"Eat me out," she commands, through heavy breaths.

"As you wish," Marianne murmurs as she gives Alice's stomach a little smooch, and moves down, between Alice's legs and pulls them apart. She gives the slit an experimental lick, and presses her mouth against her vagina, tongue slipping in. She sucks gently at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and runs her tongue over it. Marianne continues the motions, and quickly, Alice cums with a little gasp and a jerk.

With a little laugh, Marianne sits on her haunches as Alice throws her arm over her eyes.

"You should remain like that," Marianne says, after a moment. "That's a good pose."

"Oh blood-" Alice sits up now, glaring. "You are not drawing me naked."

"You wouldn't be naked, per se." Marianne hums. "You'd have a blanket over you."

The glare still remains as Alice grabs the blanket and cocoons it over her and lays on her side, facing the wall. "You do what you want." She feels Marianne gently touch her arm. "No."

"Please? You're my favorite subject."

"Piss off."

"I love you too." There's movement on the bed, and Alice rolls over to find that Marianne had gotten off and pulled on her clothes. She closes her eyes, a little smile forming on her face as she listens to the sound of rustling paper.

"I better be your favorite."