So, yeah. This is the end. I hope it doesn't disappoints.

And even if this is the ending, I'm writing an epilogue but as I don't know when I'll be able to publish it I won't make any promise. Don't be surprised if there's suddenly a notification of the fic.

Thanks again for the BIG SUPPORT you guys have given me! I will treasure it forever and I hope to see you in my next Strange Magic work! As I said in a response, this fandom is amazing! and sooo supportive. I have 0 complaints! I wish all the fandoms were this good ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ

"I look ridiculous."

"You look gorgeous !"

"I certainly am not."

"Don't be such a baby, Marianne," Dawn said to her in the car as they went to the Spring Ball. The other girl snorted, crossing her arms on her chest. "And I adapted it for you! It isn't even a dress anymore!"

"I know, but -" she blushed, stopping herself mid-phrase.

"Bog would like it," Dawn smirked, guessing her sister's thoughts. She was easier to read now that she let her be herself in front of others.

"I wasn't thinking about him!" Marianne's blush darkened, and looked out of the car window, watching the houses go by.

"I certainly hope not," their father butted in from the driver's seat, his eyes never leaving the road. Marianne tensed for a moment before relaxing again. Her father was an ally now, she had to remind herself. But years of fighting were difficult to forget. "Please at least wait until your birthday."

"Yeah, yeah," she said robotically, as she usually did when her father tried to remind her the obvious.

Dawn snickered from her seat by her side.

Since what happened a few weeks ago, after the breaking point where she confessed what Roland did to her in front of the entire school, her father did a complete one-eighty with his behaviour. He asked her all the time how she was and what she thought about anything and if he was doing good with this new development. He tried to spend time together and asked her opinion for every decision he made. It wasn't like she was going to actually tell him what to do but… he was listening.

About Bog, well… They got the security tapes and one camera in front of the Library showed enough proof to let the librarian go. Marianne was happy that at least Bog's name and job weren't at risk anymore, and considered not telling her dad about the very real relationship between them; but in the end she chose to tell him. She sat one day with her dad and explained - not without difficulty - that they liked each other and that yes, they were aware of the age difference, and yes she was a minor thank you for pointing out the obvious, dad . She let her father fret and be angry about it for a few days, declining with a smile when he offered her going to a therapist once again.

In the end, Dagda got the same conclusion as Dawn - not that his little "chat" with the blonde behind the elder sister's back had anything to do with it, of course -. Marianne was practically an adult and Dagda had been ten years older than Violet when they met, too. It wasn't like he had to enjoy it, but…

Marianne was happy. Genuinely happy. It was what mattered, he said.

"If it helps," their father added as he parked on the school's grounds. "I think you girls look adorable."

Dawn smiled showing all of her impressively white teeth and got out of the car, ignoring the stares and awes and ohs she received for her costume. She was used to being the center of attention, and while she didn't let it get to her head, she kind of enjoyed it. She got to smile to a lot of people and talk to them, she usually said.

A little grumpier, her older sister exited the car, her back slumped at the idea of having to go to that stupid dance. It brought so many memories, good and bad, and she wasn't very eager to spend her friday night surrounded by teenagers dancing to the latest pop song. At least the DJ was Sunny, so she could sneak a nice song or two.

"Have fun, you two! I'll be back at ten," Dagda smiled from the other side of the car window and left the sisters there.

"Lucky bastard," Marianne gritted her teeth. It was ironic that the school's Director didn't have to be on the dance.

"C'mon, Marianne! Let's have fun!" the blonde grabbed her gloved hand and tried to move her, without success. "Don't make me call Boggy Woggy to drag you inside."

"Do you really have to sneak him into every conversation?" she glared at her sister, letting her feet move even if it wasn't with as much grace as her sister.

"Yes!" Dawn huffed like it was common knowledge. "It's the only way to make you pay attention!"

Marianne sighed. Her heart fluttered every time she thought about him and she didn't like it. It was… too much. She wanted to just be with him and love him, all this teenage drama was unnecessary. She couldn't wait for it to stop and settle into something more relaxed, more her style.

"And it's my job as little sister to mess with you," the other girl added, turning to smile at her one more time before they entered the gym, where the dance was held.

So far so good, Marianne thought as she sipped her coke in peace, looking at her classmates dance to whatever Sunny put on now. She hadn't got into a fight with anyone and no one dared to ask her to dance, so no one had received a punch in the eye. Yet.

She leaned on her dark corner, watching with awe how good the decorations were made this year. She didn't like the theme so much, but art was art, and what the organizers had done to the place was indeed beautiful.

Fairy Land was the theme, and the gym had been completely remade into a forest-like environment, with trees and roots and enormous flowers that made her feel really small. The lights were placed so a constant moonlight shone over their heads, giving it this magical air to everything inside.

If there had been anything else but a school dance that night, she was sure she would have enjoyed it better. It even made her feel good in her costume and a lot less ridiculous than she did that afternoon when Dawn dragged her into a last minute costume test. Of course it had fit perfectly, Dawn was never joking when dealing with sewing and clothing, but the reflection she got from the mirror wasn't exactly her.

She had added her personal touch, of course, and -

"It's amazing what these kids had done to the place, right?" a voice interrupted her, making her jump in her place. She knew that voice very well.

"You forget that "these kids" are rich," she said without turning to see him. Marianne drank the rest of her coke and threw the cup into a nearby bin, getting it inside on the first try.

"Nice shot," she heard the smile on his deep voice. "How many times have you tried that tonight?"

Marianne smiled too, finally turning to face him. "Way too many. That was the first time I got it right, though. My aim had gotten worse through the night." She suspected that somehow they had spiked the punch, because once she noticed the bitter taste of alcohol she switched to coke.

"Then I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner to see you fail."

"Idiot," she snorted.

"Nice costume, by the way. It makes me want to have one as well," he said, pointing to his boring normal clothes.

"Thanks," she blushed a bit, but kept talking like her face wasn't red at all. "Dawn made it for me."

"She is good," Bog caressed one of her fake wings, marvelling at the texture. From there, he went upways to her shoulder and then to her hair, putting a bit of her hair behind her pointy ear. He leaned so he could whisper only for her. "You look beautiful."

"Idiot," she repeated, looking anywhere else but him. If she was paying attention, she could have seen him blushing. Still without looking at him, Marianne snaked her gloved hand and grabbed one of his, feeling warm inside when his fingers interlaced with hers as naturally as breathing.

Absorbed in their little moment, the two not-that-secret lovers enjoyed each other's company. Neither really listened to the music or the voices of the people around them; it was just them basking in the presence of a kindred spirit.

This was what Marianne enjoyed most about them. More than the hormones and intrusive thoughts about what they could be doing instead of standing there, she loved how at home she felt by just being with him. It was comfortable. He was comfortable.

"Do you want to go listen to some real music?" he asked after a few minutes that could have been hours.

"Sure," she nodded and let herself be dragged away from the party by Bog. No one noticed them leaving.

The silence once they left the gym was deafening after being subjected to deep drums and bouncing bass, making them notice their breathing and the way their hands were still joined. Neither tried to get free.

Marianne looked at the reflecting surfaces of the windows, which gave back a pretty clean image of herself in full costume. It was silly, but Dawn had insisted that as it was her last dance at least she could leave the school with a bang. Her sister had promised that she would be a sight few could forget, and she had to confess that Dawn definitely delivered.

What once was a maroon dress now had been shortened to a glorified sleeveless t-shirt that had been modified. Dawn decided to use the leftover fabric to criss cross them into a pattern in the front, mimicking petals of a flower flowing around her midsection. To cover her legs, Dawn had painted a pair of dark red leggins Marianne had buried deep in her closet when she decided to forsake colors, making the illusion that thin vines were growing around her legs.

The most impressive thing of her sister's creation were the velvet-like wings weighing in her back. Deep purple with the borders painted black, they were pretty good imitation of Monarch butterflies' wings style, making her full outfit resemble some kind of warrior princess of the fairies.

The only thing Marianne was missing was a sword, but their father forbid them to sneak one on the dance. Shame.

Bog, for his part, couldn't stop looking at her. Venturing a glance or two in her direction as he guided them through the dark hallways of the school towards their sanctuary - the Library - he couldn't stop mavelling at the sight of her under the moonlight. Everything in her was colorful, alive, vibrant; her intense personality captured from the designs on her leggins to the purple shade of her eyeshadow. He wondered what kind of lottery he had won to earn this girl's affection, his mind plagued with the same thoughts of regret he got every night alone in his bed, considering if this was all a very bad idea.

"Hey, Bog," her voice cut through the quiet night as he opened the Library. "How old are you actually?"

He blinked, not expecting the question.

"Why? Are you going to be all grossed out once you know it?"

"I think we are pass all that already," she huffed, remembering all the jokes and puns from her sister at home about being a 'lolita'.

"Then I'll let you know that I'm actually twenty-four years old. My mother complains that maybe I'm more like fifty years old." Bog snorted, letting her pass before him and getting inside the Library. He closed the door, and the soft thud of it did little to appease Marianne's rapid beating heart. They were alone now.

She chuckled, despite her nerves. "Why?"

"Well, I never was one to do as my classmates. No parties, no alcohol…," he grabbed her chin and looked into her eyes with intensity. "No girlfriend."

Marianne smiled softly, knowing how this had been a delicate issue for him for years. Once they got green light to be together, or as much as Dagda allowed her while she still 'lived under his roof', they had talked a lot about themselves, their thoughts about everything, about Marianne's mother and how she was the one that educated her in music, about how her death forced the girl to step up to fill a void she shouldn't have to fill. Bog was slow at first, but shared with her about his mother and his father, about how his death affected him in a time where everything was dark, about his constant battle with his image issues and his mental health.

Each time the crying stopped and they went for ice cream or a movie later, they felt more in tune than before.

The girl put a hand on his cheek. "She can't complain now. Or sign you up on those dating sites," she added, her smile turning teasing.

"Thank God," he shuddered, but smiled too and leaned down slowly, like he was giving Marianne the chance to pull back if she felt uncomfortable. He always did it and it was a cute detail in her opinion. "My girlfriend would kill me if I cheated on her."

The girl scoffed. "Sure as hell she would." Then she grabbed his shirt to pull him down for a quick kiss on the lips. "Careful with the lipstick, though."

"As if you cared about that," Bog scoffed, putting his arms around her to lift her in the air, their faces close and their lips closer.

"Maybe so," she chuckled. Her legs were put into action and she trapped him to her body, wanting to feel the warmth of her boyfriend through her fine clothes.

With a slight push, she managed to get his lips on her person once again, this time with intentions that went further than something quick. He knew that and, with a throaty chuckle, obliged gladly to the whims of the feisty fairy in his arms. He kissed her back with as much intensity, closing his eyes and surrendering to the feeling of her soft lips, her tongue, her teeth barely scraping his lower lip.

He loved kissing like this. It made him forget about the rest of the world for a moment that could last forever. It made him feel loved, awakening feelings in him that he had forgotten that existed. He felt passionate about her, about the way her body was pressed against his and her hands had trapped his head into her direction, about how she moaned softly in their kiss. He had made her produce that sweet sound, the thought sending shivers down his spine.

Marianne was everything. She was the air he breathed, the warmth he didn't know he needed, the peace he craved. He wanted to kiss her and touch her, do so much with her and explore more of these untouched feelings she provoked on him.

"Careful," she warned when she felt him shift her in his arms to grab her by her legs. She was totally aware that he was groping her butt, not that she complained; the bold move only turned her on.

"Hm," he grunted, guiding them to the nearest table and softly putting her down without breaking the contact of their lips.

Marianne's hands let go of his head and traveled to his back, feeling every tense muscle and every bone, marveling at the thought that all of that was hers. Bog would give her everything she wanted of him, and she knew it. In the time they talked about themselves words of adoration were shared more than once, his eyes telling her how much he wanted their relationship to work, how careful he was with every step. She understood it and was kind of garetul for that. She still felt a bit raw from the buried memories of Roland's misdeeds that came back to the surface with all the drama; so after talking with Bog about her worries they settled into a comfortable pace both enjoyed. It wasn't like they had to behave in a different way around each other. Going slow was good.

But that didn't mean the she wasn't allowed to make out with her boyfriend.

He let go of her lips, deciding to give his attention to her jaw and her neck, smiling cheekily when she sighed in delight. He loved making her react to his attentions. He didn't want this to stop, but when he felt her legs close tighter around him, the sensation of her warmest spot against his crotch waked him from the daze he was in.

Softly, Bog detangled from the girl and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes to find Marianne all flushed, her cheeks bright and her lips swollen from their activities, her hair out of its careful hairdo. He thought that it was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He put a hand on her face, partly for stopping her from leaning in to kiss him and partly to touch her to make sure that it was real.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, caressing her red cheek with his thumb. "But I think we should stop."

It was her time to take a deep breath. He was right, of course. She was on the verge of being carried away by her hormones and she didn't want it to happen yet. Or at least not like this, in secret and rushed on her prom night. She felt silly, but she wanted it to be special and sane, in a moment where both were in their right minds. This was not it and every fiber of her being told her to stop.

"Yeah," she smiled as she put her hand over his own, which was still on her cheek. "And you promised me good music, don't think I'm forgetting about it."

"Let me fetch my bag," Bog nodded. Marianne's legs let him go but he stayed in his place for a few more seconds.

"What?" she said when he didn't move.

"Nothing," his eyes were shining with awe. She looked elsewhere feeling a bit overwhelmed. Bog chuckled and patted her head. "It's just that…"

He took a step back, biting his lip and considering if it was a good idea or not. One glance at Marianne's confused face helped him make up his mind.

"I love you~" he sang with a really bad falsetto voice. "And nobody else~"

Of course Marianne recognized that song. Dawn had been singing it for a few days nonstop since Sunny confessed to her about his pretty obvious crush on the girl. The song had driven the elder sister mad to the point where she complained about how horrible and ugh it was. She really loved her sister, and Sunny, and wanted them to be happy but -

"I'm going to kill you!" she grabbed the first thing she saw available and threw it to the man, who was running to where he left his stuff when they arrived, laughing like crazy as the glove Marianne had thrown missed his face by inches.