Pacifica glanced up from her French textbook and sighed. “Le nez.”
Dipper nodded as he absorbed her response, then jabbed a
finger at his elbow. “What about this?”
“Le coude,” she
replied as she lowered her eyes to her book again.
“Alright…” Dipper thought about the next one, “What about…this?”
At the thud that shook the table, Pacifica looked up to find
Dipper with a foot propped up and his hand wrapped around his foot.
“Le pied. You
know, this is surprisingly not helping be study for my French test,” she
remarked as she flipped the page for emphasis.
Dipper shot her a grin and said, “What do you mean? I’m the
best studier there is! No one gets grades like mine.”
Pacifica couldn’t argue with his top grades, but his methods
were unorthodox. “You recite your notes like it’s some kind of demonic chant
for two weeks, stay up way too late the night before the test perfecting your
cue cards, then roll out of bed the next morning, drink two Redbull, and say “Let’s
do it, nerds” before every single exam.”
There was a pause. “…but I ace them.”
She just sighed and returned to reading her textbook. Dipper
was definitely the most successful student she knew, but his study system was
the strangest thing she had ever encountered. She would stick to the old
fashioned way: repetition and context.
There was blessed silence for a few minutes, and Pacifica had
just started to believe that Dipper had given up on trying to help her when he
leaned forward and took a deliberate breath.
She braced herself.
“Whah dar deez?”
Against her better judgement, Pacifica raised her gaze to
see Dipper had squished his cheeks so his lips stuck out like a fish’s. In
moments like this, she remembered exactly how similar her boyfriend was to his
twin.
“Cute,” Pacifica drawled.
He lowered his hand and smiled at her. “You think I’m cute?”
His facetiousness only made her laugh. “Somebody has to, I
guess, And they’re les levres.”
Dipper cocked his head to the side and asked, “Yeah? Well, I
think your levres and my levres should parler.”
Her snort of laughter was obnoxious enough to wake Waddles
where he snoozed in the corner. With a grin, she said, “Oh my god, you’re such a dweeb.”
“A dweeb who now knows the language of love,” he pointed
out. “So, you wanna make out or what?”
Pacifica looked at her book and considered the offer. Maybe
it was the desperation to procrastinate when her exam was bearing down on her
that pushed Pacifica to close her book with a clap and stride around the table.
Maybe it was the need for a distraction after hours spent studying that moved
Pacifica to throw her leg over Dipper’s lap and settle in with her arms looped
around his neck.
It was definitely love for her goof of a boyfriend that made
her give him a brief but firm kiss on the mouth.
“Alright, ten minutes. But no marks, got it? I need to look presentable
at my exam tomorrow,” she said brusquely.
Dipper’s hands landed on her hips and his breath grazed her
neck.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured as he pressed his mouth to the spot
beneath her ear.
Harvest Guardian 