Love. What did it really mean to love someone? Felix had pondered upon that question many times over the past year.
The Nicelanders centered their whole lives on him. He was their hero and they didn't skimp on letting him know. From parties in his honor to bringing him gifts and showering him with constant praise, Felix had assumed that how they treated him was the more time he spent with his budding family, the more he wondered if how the Nicelanders treated him was really love at all.
Ralph was quickly becoming the brother he never had. Besides his little bouts of temper, Ralph was possibly the easiest person to get along with. He'd joked around, hold long conversations, and even have friendly competitions with Felix - always ending in good humor and a pat on the back.
The wrecker's display of heroism in Sugar Rush proved that beyond any measure he'd do anything for someone he cared about. It surprised Felix one day when Ralph admitted to him that he fell under that veil.
"What you did for Vanellope still gives me goosebumps. You're a true hero, Ralph."
Ralph had smiled sincerely, honesty pouring from his voice, "If it came to it, I'd do the same for you, brother."
The admission cut Felix to the core. He never thought about giving up his own life for anyone. When he set out on the search to bring Ralph back that fateful day, all he could think about was himself and howhis game being unplugged would affect him.
But what happened that day changed his perspective when he witnessed an act of real love. Being programmed to shower someone with praise and giving gifts for a job well done wasn't exactly love, at least not in a way that it counts; the act of sacrificing your own self for someone else. Now that was love.
Then there was Tamora. Where Ralph taught him sacrificial love; Tamora taught him that love was more than just a surface feeling.
Romantic feelings vaguely affected Felix over the years. Filling the role of hero kept him busy enough to ever pursue the notion. That changed when Tamora Calhoun blasted into his life.
At first, he was infatuated by the bombshell blonde, but learned the hard way that superficial affection wasn't a foundation to starting a relationship. Tamora was more than a perfect hi-def face; she was a scarred disaster that hid behind a reinforced concrete wall. Felix realized quickly that if he were to build a relationship with this woman, he had to accept all her baggage, no matter how damage it was.
Some days were smooth sailing as they grew closer and it was easy to smile and gaze at her with a pair of goo-goo eyes. But on the difficult days - when triggers and night terrors reared up on Tamora – he had to see passed hard feelings, and desire nothing more than to help her through those terrible issues.
It was in those moments of rubbing soothing circles on her back or sitting quietly to be a sounding board,that Felix longed to fix every fear and terror that plagued her. It burned in the depths of his heart, but it was going to take more than just a tap from his magic hammer to right any of it. In those bruised and battered moments Felix began to understand the depth of what loving another person was.
Felix never knew love could be spoken with simply a look. Tamora was an expert at wearing a scowl. Her programming and job as sergeant called for tough of nails and nothing less, but her hi-def face was capable of more than an intense glower.
In their private time, when only she and Felix existed to each other, Tamora's sharp eyes would soften and she'd gaze at him with such tender affection. Her need for him shone bright with hunger as they melted into one on a bed of passion. Even around the watchful eye of the public, Tamora didn't hid her love and though the straight line of her lips didn't always convey it, her eyes always spoke to him, never letting Felix wonder how much he meant to her.
Felix had to go through the biggest scare of his life to find what love really was, but if you'd ask him, he'd say it was worth every second. Living with only a façade of love doesn't compare to the real thing.