Closing In
Skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat and breaths coming out in short pants, the red-haired swordsman slowly sat up in his bed. His bare legs were tangled in the damp sheets. A subtle, cool breeze made the curtains dance at the open window next to his bed. He lifted a hand, running his fingers through the wet strands. The heart in his chest was beating faster than normal. It was almost as if it wanted to break through his chest, like it had a mind of its own. It was a struggle to get it under control. There was a dull pain emanating from his chest. It was probably his heart. He dragged a palm down his moistened face, his short breaths continuously escaping his lips.
It was another dream. The same one. Every time. Every night. It was something to be expected nowadays. Even though he constantly expected the same dream, he still woke up every night drenched in sweat and breathing hard like he had just run a marathon. It was aggravating. The white sheets on his bed were always soaked in the middle of the night. The cool air from the open window would touch his skin, causing goosebumps to decorate his arms and neck. He would have to wash the sheets yet again. He would have to bathe once again even though he had showered right before he had gone to bed. It was the same thing. It never ended.
As the redhead put up a little struggle to untangle his legs from the sheets, the events from his dream quickly invaded his mind. It made him pause. Like always. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach twisting into little knots. He pressed a palm against his mouth, his eyes widening slightly. His reaction was always the same too. Shock. Disgust. Disbelief. Lust. You name it. It made him feel dirty. It was like he was harboring some kind of dark secret, a secret that must be kept hidden for all eternity. The most disturbing thing about his feelings when he woke up from these dreams was that he liked what emotions ran through his veins. It excited him. Aroused him. It gave him a rush. Some type of thrill. It was sick and good. Better than sick. It was still good, though. Real good.
Legs finally free, the young lion climbed out of the moist bed. His bare feet touched the carpet below him. It was soft. It was soothing. He walked toward the open window. Moonlight shone through, illuminating the forest on the outside. The trees swayed in the subtle breeze. It was calm. The wind felt good against his skin as he gazed out into the wilderness. There were grassy hills way beyond the countless trees. They stood tall, and they were beautiful. Like always. As he continued to stare, the forbidden feelings never left him and the events from his dream continued to plague him.
He bit his lip, turned away from the outside's portrait. It was time to shower, time to get all the filth off of him. While he was at it, he would take care of the uncontrollable urge of release. It disgusted him to no end, but it was something he had to do almost every time this occurred. In the process, he would be overcome with overwhelming euphoria. After it was over, he would feel empty inside and his stomach would twist and turn so much that it would bring him extreme discomfort. He was used to these horrible feelings.
About an hour later, Roy stepped out of his bathroom, white towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping with water. He was smelling like shampoo and soap. It was nice to feel clean. This was only on the outside. It did not mean that he was clean on the inside. Oh no. He was far from it. Even after he had pleasured himself with only the events from his dream to get him going, he was still so unsatisfied. How revolting of him. It was so unreasonable and unexplainable. It was not fair. All he wanted was for everything to go back to normal, for these urges to cease to exist. Was that too much to ask for? Would he ever be truly pleased?
A deep exhale left his mouth. He shuffled to his bed. His hands reached for the sheets and grasped them. After he had a firm grip on them, he yanked them from his bed and they went floating to the floor beneath his feet. Then, without hesitation, he collapsed onto his bare bed. He decided that he would wash the sheets tomorrow morning. The swordsman did not have the energy to take care of the laundry in the middle of the night. That was simply ridiculous. Besides, he was too tired. Hopefully, he did not have another dream about the hero-king again. If he did, he prayed that it would be an innocent one rather than the dirty one that he had an hour ago.
Yes. That was right. His dream had been about the hero-king himself. Marth was his name. A formidable opponent and one that he often lost to in the Smash tournament. Roy's skills with a sword could not compare to Marth's. Did he ever give it his all whenever he fought Marth? Probably not. Most of the time he was too busy taking in Marth's appearance and the sound of his voice.
Roy truly believed that Marth was the most handsome man in the entire world. He was not sure when he became so infatuated with the other swordsman. It just happened one day. Ever since his feelings grew wild for the wielder of Falchion, those dreams have been a constant interruption to his slumber. Each one contained events that Roy would never be able to speak of out loud. It always involved him and Marth. Together. Him and Marth doing scandalous and dirty things that he always felt ashamed of. It was disgusting how he could think of his friend in such a way. It was a burden, but he liked it. He was good at pushing those unwanted feelings away, but at the same time, he welcomed them. It was just a confusing mess, a mess that he had no desire of cleaning up or understanding.
The young lion buried his face in his sodden pillow. He felt the night's coolness caress his wet skin and his hair. It felt nice. Especially after a hot shower. It did nothing to soothe him mentally though. The urge was still there. It burned bright within him. Displeased, he was. Even after his little session in the shower, he was still not satisfied. Very rarely did he feel the need to pleasure himself for the second time in one night. This time, however, the urge was simply too strong. Roy rolled over until he was on his back. He stared up at the blank ceiling. After a moment, he threw an arm over his eyes while his other hand touched the towel around his waist.
A soft whimper slipped from his lips as he imagined the hand to be Marth's hand. As he eased into another session of pleasure, tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Shame stabbed at his heart. He wanted to stop. He truly did. It was impossible. Nothing could stop him. Not even his own shame or his tears of guilt. All he could do was continue with his unspeakable actions all while his fantasies took place in his head.
It was December. Nights were colder. The days were shorter. December meant snow, warm blankets, cozy fires, and most of all, winter break. Whenever December rolled around, Master Hand would allow all the Smashers to relax until after New Year's. No matches would be held and all the fighters were free to do as they wished. Most of the fighters were happy that they got a long break, but a lot of them were excited for Christmas that was to come. Everyone was doing their Christmas shopping, and Master Hand promised that he would be bringing in a giant Christmas tree into the mansion for the fighters to decorate. Everyone had their own decorations planned for the tree. Roy, however, did not. He was still debating on whether or not he would even decorate it. There were a few fighters, like Ganondorf and Ridley to name a few, that did not plan on adding a decoration to the tree or even celebrating Christmas for that matter. Roy felt like he was one of those fighters. He just could not decide what to put on the tree. To add to his dilemma, he still did not get his Christmas shopping done. It was still early in the month, but still. A lot of the fighters had finished their Christmas shopping and were wrapping their gifts for whoever they got gifts for.
Roy could see his breath in front of him and could hear the sound of his boots crunching in the snow as he took a leisure stroll outside the mansion. The sky was tainted with colors of the evening and there was a cool, crisp breeze that sent the trees into a light dance. Before he had gone outside, Roy made sure that he was protected from the cold. He wore a red sweater with a long-sleeve shirt underneath. A green scarf was securely wrapped around his neck and gloves kept his hands warm. He also had on a pair of trousers that kept his legs warm. He made sure to keep his nose and mouth covered with his scarf. Usually, his nose was the first thing to freeze whenever he went outside into the cold.
It was almost time for dinner. Dinner would be served in the dining hall of the mansion, like always. He wondered what type of food would be served this evening. Last night's dinner had been a pig roast with a bunch of side dishes. It was tasty, but Roy did not want the same thing two evenings in a row. Hopefully, a variety of food would be served today. Roy was famished. He had skipped breakfast and lunch because he had slept for too long. After he had finished with his dirty acts and guilty tears, he hadn't been able to get back to sleep right away last night. It was awful. When he did laundry in the afternoon, he had done so with a hollow feeling coiling his insides. If he recalled correctly, Fox had been doing laundry at that time too and asked why he had such a downcast expression on his face. Roy only put on one of his best smiles and assured him that everything was perfectly okay with him. Fox had been unconvinced, but Roy had quickly changed the subject by asking Fox to hear more about how his day was going. Fox was happy to inform him, and Roy was grateful to listen.
Now, he was just roaming the outside world. Thoughts floated through his mind at a slow pace. Snow began to fall from the sky. It collected in his red strands, but it did not bother him in the slightest. The only thing that he was bothered by was the fact that he could not think of what kind of decorations he wanted to put on the Christmas tree once Master Hand brought it. Most of all, Roy was worried about what kind of Christmas gift he would get the hero king. He was friends with Marth, yes. That did not mean he knew everything about the guy. He did not even know his favorite color! That said a lot about how well Roy actually knew him. He knew that Lucina and Chrom, and even Ike, knew what Marth liked. Roy was too much of a coward to actually go up to Marth and ask him what he wanted for Christmas. He had no problem asking everyone else what they wanted though. It was only with Marth did he find some difficulties.
Roy stopped moving to look up at the sky. The snow gently landed on his face. It was cold. Very cold. He used a gloved hand to wipe the snow away, but more only replaced the snow he got rid of. It was futile. Roy sighed through his nose and removed his gaze from the sky. He started moving again, his boots crunching in the snow once more. Should he even be allowed to get Marth a Christmas gift? What had he gotten him last year? Nothing. Nothing at all. He did remember Marth getting him something though. Roy had no right to feel special about that because Marth had gotten everyone a Christmas gift last year. He even got Master Hand and Crazy Hand a gift. The gift that was given to Roy had been a store-bought gift. It was a scarf. The one he was wearing now. Roy had felt so bad when he found a bunch of presents underneath the Christmas tree that were addressed to him. Roy never thought to get anyone anything. It was going to be different this year. He was going to get everyone a gift. Especially for Marth.
What was he thinking? Did he have any right to get Marth a gift? He should not be allowed, not after the things he had been up to in his room every night. Not after the unspeakable fantasies he had about Marth on an almost daily basis. What kind of foul creature was he to think that he had a right to get his friend something for Christmas? He was going to do it anyway. In his eyes, Marth deserved something nice for Christmas for being such a wonderful human being. That was what Roy's heart told him anyway.
Roy's steps faltered when his eyes captured a scene up ahead. It was in the mansion's frozen garden. The Villagers, Toon Link, Young Link, the Inklings, Ness, Lucas, Kirby, and Isabelle were all working together to build a snowman. In the spring, the garden would be flourishing with blooming flowers and green grass. Now that it was winter, those plants have withered away and were covered in thick snow. It was a cute scene to behold. They were all chatting amongst themselves, trying to decide how big the snowman should be or what type of stuff they should put on it. A carrot for the nose, Roy heard Ness suggest. Maybe buttons for his eyes, Toon Link insisted. A hat on top of his head suggested Young Link. There would be laughter sometimes too as they built their snowman. Isabelle whipped out a couple of buttons and one of the Villagers stuck a carrot into the snowman's face. Kirby had found some twigs for the snowman's arms and Lucas tried to make the snowman's mouth with little pebbles that he happened to come across. The Inklings used their colorful ink to give the snowman some color. It was very wonky. The snowman looked more like a monster than an actual snowman. Their efforts and their willingness to work together to accomplish one goal made Roy smile.
"What are you smiling about?" There was a voice right next to his ear.
Roy almost had a heart attack. He flinched away, spinning around to face whoever dared disturbed him. It was none other than one of the Pokémon trainers, one of the females with dark skin. The girl was dressed appropriately for the winter weather and she still had on her hat. Her eyes were twinkling with mirth at his reaction. It was clear that was what she had been aiming for.
"You almost sent me into cardiac arrest. You know that, right?" Roy spoke, huffing. He folded his arms across his chest, giving her a look. "Did you really feel the need to sneak up on me like that? What if I had my weapon with me and I accidentally impaled you with it. Did that thought ever occur to you?"
The Pokémon trainer shook her head, putting her hands behind her back. The girl's eyes were still shimmering with mischief. She seemed thoroughly pleased with what she accomplished just now. "Oh, you wouldn't do something like that. I don't see your weapon anywhere on your person, so I think I'm in the clear. Did I really scare you that much?"
"You did," Roy confirmed, raising an eyebrow at her smiling face.
"You didn't answer my question. What were you smiling about? You seemed quite content," said the Pokémon trainer, her voice dripping with curiosity.
Roy's eyes went back to the snowman scene. The colorful snowman was finished and the young fighters were all making snow angels together in the snow, laughing while they did. It looked like they were having a lot of fun. Roy would have joined them if he did not have other things to worry about. "I was just watching them over there." He nodded his head in their direction. "Looks like they're having a lot of fun."
"That does seem to be the case," agreed the Pokémon trainer pleasantly. "Well, hey, the real reason I came over here is because I wanted to know what you wanted for Christmas. I made a list of all the fighters, even the bad ones like Wario so that I can ask them what they want for Christmas. I think I'm halfway through my list now. Everyone's doing this, I think. Well, everyone that I can think of, that is. I know Peach and Daisy are doing this for sure. The list thing and all."
"You don't have to get me anything for Christmas," Roy responded while shaking his head. "I don't need anything. It's fine."
Pokémon trainer was not taking no for an answer. She nudged his side with her elbow. "Come on. Don't be like that. What do you want for Christmas, silly?"
Seeing how her tone left no room for argument, Roy relented. He paused, thinking. What did he want? It was unclear. Roy wanted to think of something fast because the Pokémon trainer was not going to stand there and wait around for him all evening. That was completely out of the question. Roy scratched the top of his head, averting his eyes. "Well, maybe…something that I can eat?"
"So cookies or something? I thought Kirby would want something edible, but okay. Any kind of pastry that you like?" the girl questioned him, taking out a small notebook from her pocket along with a pencil. She seemed fully prepared to write down what he wanted for Christmas.
"Um…I'm not sure?" Roy really did not know.
Pokémon trainer released a deep sigh, exasperated. "How about I just surprise you then? How does that sound, Roy?" she asked him.
Roy adopted a little smile. "Sure. That works out just fine. Thanks."
"No problem." The girl quickly scribbled something down in her notebook before putting that and the pencil away. "There. Now to go over and ask those guys what they want."
"Wait. What do you want for Christmas?" Roy wanted to know. The female Pokémon trainer would be his first person on his mental list to get a present for. "I want to try something different this year. I received a lot of presents last year for Christmas from a lot of the other fighters. I felt really bad when I didn't get them anything, so I…I would like to get everyone a gift this year. That includes you."
The Pokémon trainer pointed at herself, surprise evident on her face. "Me? Well, I'd really like a pair of gloves to keep my hands warm. I don't own any, so that would be very helpful for when it's cold. Like it is now. If you can get me gloves, I'll be set!" She gave him a thumbs-up.
"Done. You can count on me." Roy returned her thumbs-up with one of his own. The small smile that had been on his face a few seconds ago slowly dissipated as he thought of something. It was about Marth again. He still did not know what the hero-king wanted and he was not about to ask either. "Hey, um…do you by any chance know what Marth wants for Christmas?"
"You're asking the wrong person," retorted the Pokémon trainer through a light laugh. "I have no clue what that guy wants. You're going to have to ask him yourself! What made you think that I would know? Ask Lucina and Chrom or something. Aren't they, like, his descendants or something? Later!" With that, the girl was off to go ask what the younger fighters wanted for Christmas.
Roy instantly felt foolish. It was stupid of him to ask her such a question. Her questions toward him were valid though. What made him think that she of all people would know what Marth wanted for Christmas? Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous again. It was probably a good idea to go inquire about this with Lucina and Chrom. There was a chance that they, too, would not know what Marth wanted for Christmas. They were, after all, Marth's descendants. All because they had this relationship with Marth, did not mean that they automatically knew what Marth liked and did not like. Marth was their ancestor.
Dinner was served in the mess hall as expected. Roy sat alone. It was by choice that he did. He wanted some more time alone to gather his thoughts. If he questioned Lucina and Chrom about what Marth wanted for Christmas, would they grow suspicious of his actions? Would his feelings for Marth show? Roy did not want that to happen. He did not know what he would do if anyone found out about his revolting secret. Roy would not let that happen. The only person that would know would be him and him only. He would take his secret to the grave if he had to. Not even Marth would hear about it. If Roy was forced to spill his dark secrets, Marth would be the absolute last person on the planet that he would tell. Marth knowing about his fantasies and dirty deeds made Roy want to vomit. The hero king would never look at him the same way again. He would be shunned, and Marth would cut him out of his life quicker than a heartbeat. Roy did not want that. That was the last thing he wanted. If Marth despised him, his life would be over. Permanently. Was that how much he cared or was he just fooling himself? Was he just blinded by desire?
Roy stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork, dispelling his worries with just that simple action. He had stabbed the piece of chicken on his plate with so much force that the whole table shook. Once the piece of chicken was securely attached to the fork, he brought it to his lips and put it into his mouth. He chewed and then swallowed. It was good. That evening's dinner consisted of baked chicken with various sides. Roy had gotten mashed potatoes and corn with his chicken. Perfect. He had been starving.
Suddenly, there were others joining his table without his permission. Usually, Roy did not mind company but today he had too much on his mind. He did not feel like socializing with others. Not wanting to be rude, however, he did not voice his displeasure. Instead, he gave a polite smile at the intruders: Rosalina and Chrom. Chrom's face was decorated with a dashing smile while Rosalina looked calm. They both sat down across from him, setting their plates of food in front of them.
Everyone and their mother knew that there was something special going on between Rosalina and Chrom. The two of them were rarely seen apart. When they were together, other fighters often caught them holding hands underneath a table or whispering into each other's ears. Mario had even seen them kissing in one of the corridors about a month ago. Chrom and Rosalina would deny it all day long but everyone knew the truth about their relationship. There were even rumors about them being engaged. This upset Lucina for reasons that were unknown to Roy. One time during breakfast in the dining hall, Wario made a joke about Rosalina becoming Lucina's mother after Chrom married Rosalina. Lucina had gotten incredibly upset and threatened to slice his belly open. Both the female and male Robin had to calm her down. After that, Chrom took Lucina to the side to discuss the matter. When he finished speaking with her, Lucina was still very much upset but she was not threatening to slice people open with her Falchion.
"Good evening, Roy. Are you enjoying your meal?" questioned Rosalina pleasantly. She folded her hands neatly in her lap. One of her Lumas, a red one, was floating beside her head. It was currently chewing on a piece of bread. The Luma looked like it was enjoying it very much. "Chrom and I just arrived in time for supper. We were thinking about just skipping supper, but I convinced Chrom that we had to go. It is best if we receive all of our nutrients."
A chuckle fell from Chrom's lips at the blonde woman's words. "You sound like the Wii Fit Trainers. They're always telling everyone that three meals a day with some healthy snacks in between is a must. I hope you're not turning into one of them, Rosie," Chrom spoke, picking up one of his forks and digging into his food. He had the same thing as Roy, baked chicken, and some sides.
"Of course not, darling," Rosalina answered through a laugh of her own. She delicately picked up her fork and started to eat.
Yeah. Roy thought, watching the two of them closely as he leaned back in his chair. There's no possible way that they are not seeing each other behind the scenes. It is so obvious that it hurts. Fighters that did not believe the romantic relationship blossoming between Chrom and Rosalina were fools. Roy dared anyone to fight him on that because at this point it was a well-known fact. He crossed his ankles underneath the table and his fork dangled loosely from his fingers as he stared at them. Roy had taken off his sweater and only wore his long-sleeve shirt that was underneath. It was warmer inside the mansion so he had no need to keep the sweater on.
"I'm enjoying it. It's not as good last night's dinner though. The pig roast was really good," responded Roy, shrugging. Then, a thought came to him as he shifted his eyes over to a hungry Chrom. Chrom was scarfing down his food like a wild animal that had not eaten in weeks. It was comical and kind of gross at the same time. Roy expected something like that from Wario. Not from Chrom. "Hey Chrom, do you know what Marth would want for Christmas? What are you getting him?" he asked.
Chrom lifted his head after stuffing some chicken into his mouth. He did not bother chewing as he gave Roy his reply. Rosalina performed an expression of disgust at Chrom's lack of manners. Roy was not bothered by it. All he wanted was a good response to his question. "Good old Marth? Well, I'm not entirely sure what he likes. I know that his favorite color is blue." Chrom finally swallowed his food and then presented Roy with a wide grin. "I didn't care to ask what he wanted for Christmas. I wanted to surprise him, as did Lucina. Don't tell him this but I got him a little trinket that I found at some market not too far from here. It's all wrapped up and ready to be put under the Christmas tree."
Roy visibly deflated at his words. It was safe to say that Lucina also did not know what Marth wanted for Christmas since the girl wanted to surprise Marth as well. That left him with no other options. He could not ask any other fighters. Ike probably did not know what Marth wanted either. Roy was not about to walk up to Marth and ask him. Not in this lifetime or the next. It was out of the question and it would stay that way for all eternity. The red-haired swordsman rested his chin in his free palm, trying not to pout too much about it. This was probably karma coming to get him for being such a disgusting human being. How dare he want to give Marth a Christmas gift after all the atrocious acts he performed in his bedroom every night? How dare he?
How dare I?
"Perhaps you could make him something from scratch?" Rosalina suggested, cutting into her baked chicken at a slow pace. She was no longer giving Chrom a revolted look. Instead, she was looking directly at Roy. There was a bit of concern coloring her eyes. It must have been because of the pout Roy had on his face. "Homemade gifts are always special. They come from the heart. So, I suggest you do something like that for Marth if you don't want to buy him something."
"Okay. I don't know how to make anything though. What should I make for him?" Roy asked, at a loss. He was not sure why he believed that Rosalina and Chrom would have all the answers.
Rosalina put down her knife and gripped her fork with one hand. She was still looking at him. The concern that was in her eyes was slowly fading away into curiosity. It seemed that she was interested in something. "I am unsure what you should make for him, Roy," she responded kindly, shaking her head. "Did he not give you a scarf last year for Christmas? The green one? You could always knit him a scarf. That would be a really nice thing to give him, I think."
"Why the sudden interest in getting Marth a gift for Christmas, hmm?" Chrom piped up from his seat. He had finished scarfing down all his food and was now giving Roy a look that Roy could not identify. "You didn't care to get him one last year."
"I didn't care to get anyone a gift last year, mind you," Roy retaliated, smirking somewhat. He knew that Chrom would realize that it was a fact. "I want to get everyone a Christmas gift this year. It is the least I can do for being so careless last year. By the way, what do you two want for Christmas?"
Rosalina brought a finger to her chin in thought. "Hmm. How about a hairpin? I like those. Any kind of hairpin will suffice." She sent Roy a sweet smile. "Thank you."
"Surprise me!" Chrom announced in an aloof manner. There was a grin playing on his lips and it looked like his eyes were flashing with happiness. "That's what I told everyone else. Lucina didn't like that I wanted her to surprise me too, but I made her do it. She has no choice. I won't tell anyone what I want for Christmas. Hopefully, I get great gifts."
Roy slowly nodded, his chin still resting in his palm. The fork in his other hand had long since been abandoned, as was the remaining food on his plate. He lost his appetite a few minutes ago. It was probably cold anyway. Chrom asked if he could finish his food for him and Roy eagerly obliged, letting the prince devour the rest of his dinner. Rosalina grew quiet as she slowly consumed her food. As Chrom chatted with them both about various topics, the young lion could not help but space out. His eyes roamed the dining hall, seeing a bunch of other fighters eating at different tables. He was sure that everyone was present. There was one individual that he wanted to see. He was difficult to spot, but he found him.
Marth was sitting at a table with Meta Knight, Zero Suit Samus, Lucina, Ike, and Simon. Multiple words were being tossed around their table. Many interactions were taking place as they took pleasure in eating their dinner and spending time with each other. Ike made a comment that Roy could not make out but his remark caused the whole table to erupt with laughter. Most of the laughter came from Lucina and Simon. Zero Suit Samus only let out a small laugh and Roy was not sure if Meta Knight was even laughing because of the mask covering his face. Marth had his elbows resting on the table, his fingers loosely laced with one another in front of him. The hero king had a genuine smile on his face that told tales of amusement. It seemed that he was really enjoying his time with his fellow fighters.
The hero king was wearing one of Roy's favorite smiles. Marth was too handsome for his own good. So attractive and forever good to look at. Sometimes, Roy was unable to tear his eyes away from the man. It was silly. Occasionally, Roy would feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush. He hated thinking of himself in such a horrible way but it was how he felt most of the time. The redhead continued to stare, taking in Marth's full appearance and the way he would brush away a few strands of hair from his eyes. He could see how toned Marth's body was beneath the long-sleeve shirt he wore and the way-
Marth was looking at him now, smiling kindly in his direction as an acknowledgment. He also lifted a hand to give a short wave. It was a friendly gesture. To Roy, however, it meant something more.
Roy felt heat burn into his cheekbones. A horde of butterflies attacked his belly. The smile on Marth's face was just too precious, too attractive. He was aiming that beautiful smile at him. Sure, Marth always smiled at everyone but Roy somehow felt special because he was giving that smile to him at that moment. It was truly wonderful. All Roy could do was return Marth's smile with a lopsided one of his own. For some reason, he did not look away. He usually turned away before Marth could notice how flustered he was. Not this time. No. Like an idiot, Roy continued to stare until Marth awkwardly turned away.
"How much of a fool can I be?" Roy mumbled to himself after dinner. He roamed the halls of the enormous mansion that housed seventy fighters, including the fighters whose jobs were assisting battlers during matches as assist trophies. It was a huge mansion that Master Hand and Crazy Hand had built somehow. Roy was not going to dwell on that. His mind was too occupied with what happened in the dining hall when Marth had smiled at him. Roy did not look away. Marth did. He looked uncomfortable. Awkward. It made Roy feel stupid inside, made him feel even more foolish about the feelings he had for the hero king. Marth would never suspect that he was harboring these forbidden feelings for him, and Roy did not expect him to. Nobody expected something horrific like that. It was crazy. Outrageous. Impossible. How could Roy ever feel that way about Marth? Another man? He would be judged severely for this.
The young lion used his fingers to brush through strands of red hair atop his head. Frustration painted his face. His lips were set in a straight line, a crease forming on his forehead because of a frown. Images of Marth and that smile of his kept entering his brain. It replayed over and over again. Roy felt the heat rushing back to his face as he daydreamed about Marth smiling at him like that again. He felt lightheaded. Defeated. He continued down the hall of the first floor of the mansion, passing by many doors on either side of him. Roy shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes swimming with various emotions.
Voices. He could hear voices. The sounds of swords clashing. A battle. The swordsman paused his trekking to determine where the noises were coming from. They were coming from one of the many training rooms that the mansion provided. Roy walked in that direction, curiosity claiming him. When he reached the training room, he was met with the sight of Marth and Ike training together. Both of them were in their armor, their capes fluttering behind them as their swords met. Roy leaned against the doorframe of the wide training room. There were other fighters training too but Roy's focus was mainly on Marth and Ike. The two swordsmen danced around each other, their blades touching every few seconds. They refused to back down. One did not want to be defeated by the other and vice versa. Sweat glistened on their foreheads and their breathing was rapid. It was clear that they had been at it for quite some time.
"Predictable!" Marth declared as he countered a heavy swing from Ike's mighty Ragnell. The counter sent Ike flying across the room. He crashed into a wall, barely missing a startled Shulk and a scared Jigglypuff. The mercenary's sword fell from his grasp and he groaned. He appeared to be a bit dazed from the impact. Jigglypuff floated away while Shulk repeatedly asked if the man was alright. Roy watched closely as Marth jogged over to meet them.
"I'm predictable now, huh?" questioned Ike as he took an extended hand of Marth's. Marth helped him to his feet while Shulk kind of just walked off after seeing that Ike was unhurt. "I did not see that counter coming. I should have reacted faster."
Marth released his hand. "Are you okay, friend?"
"I'm fine. I think I'm done for the night though. I'm going to shower and then go to sleep," Ike answered, shrugging his broad shoulders. He started walking over to a bench with their towels on it. "What about you? Are you going to stay and train some more?"
"I might exercise," Marth replied lightly, following him. They both stopped at the bench and picked up their towels. Marth used his towel to clean up the sweat on his neck and cheeks. "I am not so sure."
Ike opened his mouth to respond to that. Then, he stopped. He noticed Roy standing in the doorframe of the training room. He raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, Roy. I didn't see you there. Did you come here to train with us?" he questioned him.
Unprepared for being seen so soon, Roy awkwardly made his way over to them, stumbling in the process. Embarrassment struck him hard as he stood in front of the two men. He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a smile and trying not to stare at Marth for too long. "Uh, ah, no. No, I did not." He cleared his throat and then dropped his hand to his side. "I just sort of ended up here. I was, uh, taking a walk. Yeah, that was what I was doing. Just taking a walk." He was babbling like an idiot now.
"Ike is about to take his leave," Marth input, his lips stretching into a friendly smile. "I might too. If you had gotten here sooner, we could have all trained together." The hero king dropped his towel back onto the bench. His bangs were sticking to his forehead because of the sweat. It did not seem to bother the elegant man though.
"Now, that would have been a challenge. Roy does hit pretty hard with that sword of his," Ike said with a short nod.
Marth was speaking again. For some reason, the words coming out of Marth's mouth sounded foreign to Roy's ears. All he did was pay attention to the way Marth's lips moved as he spoke. Marth's lips looked really soft. They were kissable. Roy constantly wondered what it would feel like to have those lips pressed against his own, their tongues meeting in a passionate dance. Fingers tangled in each other's hair. Hearts beating way beyond the normal rate. Flesh as hot as the sun. Like in his dreams. Before Roy knew it, he was becoming lost in his heated fantasies once more.
Fingers snapped in front of his face.
Like glass shattering, Roy was snapped out of his trance. Both Ike and Marth wore similar expressions. Confusion and slight concern. Ike was the one to snap his fingers in front of his face to pull him out of whatever trance he fell into. The embarrassment that Roy felt a couple of minutes ago came back tenfold. It was overwhelming. Roy wanted to dig a hole, jump in it, and bury himself. Better yet, he wished someone would come along and impale him with a weapon. Just put him out of his misery.
"You spaced out for a minute there. Are you good?" Ike asked the young lion, raising an eyebrow at him. It seemed as if he cared about his wellbeing, which Roy appreciated beneath all the embarrassment he was experiencing at the moment.
A very awkward laugh left Roy's mouth and he waved a hand at them. "Sorry. I haven't been feeling like myself lately." It was not a lie. It was sort of the truth. Ever since he became enamored with the hero-king, he had been feeling less and less like himself.
"You're not coming down with something, are you?" Marth inquired, the concern on his face deepening. He suddenly lifted a hand toward Roy's face. "May I?"
Roy's eyes widened and he mutely nodded. His entire body stiffened when Marth pressed his palm against his forehead. Heat was rushing to his cheeks once again. His heart did a frantic dance inside his chest. Roy felt like he was going to pass out right then and there. Marth touched him! All of a sudden, it was difficult for Roy to breathe. Getting air into his lungs had never been such a hard task to accomplish. Marth was so close to him and the feeling of his palm against his skin made Roy want to tackle the man with a hug and kiss him over and over again. Roy swayed slightly. He was not sure what bothered him more: the fact that he was super into Marth right now or the fact that his body was reacting in such an extreme way to a simple touch from Marth. Was he that messed up?
"You are burning up!" Marth informed him, his tone carrying worry. "It is best if you head to the infirmary and seek medical attention from Dr. Mario. He will know what to do about your growing fever." With that, Marth withdrew his hand and let it hang limply at his side.
"Your face is kind of red too," Ike pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah. You better go see Dr. Mario about it. Don't want you passing out or anything."
Roy wanted Marth to touch him again. So badly. His fingers twitched, itching to snatch Marth's hand in his own and make him touch him again. Where were these horrible thoughts coming from? Roy tried to get a hold of himself, but it was proving to be futile. The red-haired man swallowed thickly, a lump in his throat. He felt so horrible. "I think I'm fine. Maybe I just need more sleep," Roy answered them quietly, looking away from them. If he stared at Marth any longer, he did not know what would happen. He feared the worst. "I think I'll just go back to my room and get some rest." That was a lie. There was no way in hell he was going back to his room just for some "rest." He knew what he was going to do once he got there and he knew that he was going to hate himself for it all over again.
Before the other two swordsmen could protest, Roy was already turning on his heels and scurrying out of there like a mouse on the run from a hungry cat. He could hear Marth and Ike calling his name but he ignored them and kept walking. His walking eventually turned into a light jog as he hurried down the hallway. He looked over his shoulder and could see both Ike and Marth stepping out of the training room to watch him go. Roy felt like a clown but what else was he supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like he could control his disgusting urges? No. He would rather look like a clown to them than embarrass himself even further.
His pillow was wet with tears. He pressed his face into the softness, the dampness. His body was warm and his heart was doing flips in his chest. The pure bliss that had spread throughout his body was beginning to fizzle out. His mind was numb. Tears continuously gathered in his eyes. They constantly soaked the pillow that he was pushing his face against. What was wrong with him? It was like he had some sort of addiction. Marth was that addiction. He was addicted to the hero-king, and he had it bad too. This addiction was so out of his control. There was nothing he could do about it, and there was no one he could talk to about his uncontrollable feelings. The urges were so strong. It was hard for him to fight against them. During the act, all he could think about was Marth and how it would feel so good if it all the things he was imagining came true. After, he would be a mess of tears, guilt, regret, and shame. Like now. He was crying his eyes out like an infant as if tears would solve all his problems. He knew full well that his tears would do nothing to make him feel better. This would continue to happen. His feelings for Marth were not going away any time soon, nor was the need to give himself pleasure whenever he thought about the hero king in such filthy ways. It was a nightmare. He was living in a nightmare without an end.
Roy sniffled noisily, lifting his head from the moist pillow. He used the back of his hand to wipe the mucus that was oozing from his nose. Grimacing, he wiped his hand on the sheets. He brought his palms to his face and tried to get rid of his tears. They kept coming. Every time he thought about what he had just done, he would burst into tears again. He believed this to be wrong on so many levels. It was wrong to think of Marth in such a way and he knew it. He could already imagine all the hateful glares he would receive from all the other fighters, from his friends. They would all judge him. It would be constant. A never-ending cycle of hatred. Marth would look at him like that too. As kind and understanding as the hero-king was, he would look down at him in disgust. To him, Roy would be a repulsive maggot that deserved to be crushed underfoot. Pathetic.
There was a knock on his door. When he first heard it, he thought it was all in his chaotic mind. It sounded again. That was when he realized that the knock had been real. They were soft knocks. There was a muffled voice on the other side. Someone was calling his name faintly behind the door. Roy sat up in his bed, checking a digital clock on his nightstand. It was almost midnight. Who could be at his door at this hour? It was abnormal. The young lion slid off his bed and then picked up a few articles of clothing that had been strewn across the carpeted floor of his bedroom. He pulled on a pair of trousers and then yanked a plain shirt over his head. He combed through his hair with his fingers a couple of times before approaching the door. He grabbed the doorknob and then pulled the door open.
It was Princess Peach. Surprise jumped onto Roy's features at her unexpected appearance. The sweet princess was standing there in her pink dress, her blonde hair draping over her shoulders in a nice fashion. Her hands met in front of her dress. She was wringing them while her lovely eyes showed worry. There was a time when Roy used to have a crush on the princess. That was a long time ago though. Almost two years now. It was very brief. He did not like her as much as he liked Marth. Roy never did anything to pursue her or let his feelings show for Peach. It would have never worked anyway. Peach seemed quite smitten with Mario. It was impossible to insert himself between the two of them. Besides, Roy had no interest in doing something like that. It was wrong to get between two lovers. His crush had faded away quickly. Roy wished the same could be said with his extreme infatuation with the hero king.
"Peach, what are you doing here?" Roy asked her, hoping that all evidence of his sobbing was gone. He blinked a few times, praying that Peach did not see how red and puffy his eyes were. "Do you know what time it is? It's almost midnight."
The princess in pink adopted an apologetic expression. She raised her gloved hands as if she had been caught by the cops for doing something illegal. "I am so sorry, Roy," she squeaked softly. Her voice was quiet. Roy guessed that she did not want to wake anybody else up in the hall. "I spoke with Marth and Ike earlier and they informed me that you were not feeling well. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay since I know nobody has come to check up on you."
Roy's face softened at her words. Peach was the ultimate sweetheart. The gentle princess was always worrying about everyone, even if they were not close to her. She acted like she was everyone's mother. Some fighters welcomed her unending kindness while others found her motherly actions to be smothering. It was a debatable topic. Roy, however, had no issue with it. He was used to Peach worrying about everyone, including him. That was what drew him in when he first developed a crush on her all that time ago. Her sweetness had captured his heart, as well as her kind nature. All of that was in the past now. He felt no attraction toward her at all. No. All of that was reserved for Marth and Marth only.
Her excuse for being at his door at an odd hour replayed in his head. He remembered how he had just ditched Marth and Ike at the training room while lying through his teeth about "needing more rest." From their perspectives, of course, they would think something was wrong with him. His face had been on fire from Marth's touch and he was pretty sure that his face had been as red as a tomato, as Ike pointed out. Roy exhibited strange behavior. They would worry. It was natural. Why get Peach involved though? Peach was not there. If they were so concerned for him, why did they send Peach to make sure he was alright instead of showing up themselves? Roy supposed that he was lucky that Marth did not show up. He was not sure what he would do if the hero-king himself appeared at his door in the middle of the night.
"Did Marth and Ike send you?" Roy questioned, attempting to confirm his thoughts. He leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest as he kept his eyes on the blonde princess. "And why at such a late time? You should be sleeping, Peach."
Peach shook her head, dropping her hands to her sides. "No! They mentioned you being sick to a couple of us. I think Daisy, Mario, and Falco too. Maybe Samus as well. Um…I came here on my own. No one told me to come to check up on you," she explained quietly. "The reason why I'm here so late is because I was busy wrapping Christmas gifts with Daisy and Zelda. Oh, you really don't look so good, Roy. Your eyes are so red and puffy. Have you been crying?" she asked, her concern intensifying.
"No, no! There was just, uh, something in my eye. That's it. Just something in my eye." A laugh shot out of Roy's mouth. It was a forced laugh, but he knew it would be convincing enough for Peach. "By the way, I was going to knit a scarf for Marth and I was wondering if you would help me do that?"
Peach decided to let the matter go. She raised her eyebrows. "You want to knit Marth a scarf? That is so sweet of you, Roy! You asked the right person! I'll show you how to do that. Don't you worry, Roy," she told him happily. "How does tomorrow sound? You can come over to my room and I can show you how it's done! It'll be so much fun. We should ask what colors Marth would prefer."
Roy's face paled at that. "N-No! It's supposed to be a surprise!"
Peach tilted her head to the side. "Oh? That's even sweeter! I'm sure he will love your gift. Homemade gifts are always special." She clapped her hands, becoming excited by just thinking about how much fun they would have knitting scarves together. "Goodness, he will be so grateful."
"You…you really think so?" asked Roy, unsure. How could she possibly know what Marth would like? Then again, did it really matter what he gave Marth? The hero king was very kind. He would probably accept any gift and be grateful for it. It was the thought that counted, after all. Still, Roy felt nervous about the whole thing. What if Marth thought he was strange for even thinking of getting him a gift? There were so many insecurities that Roy had that he felt like he might explode from it all. The more he dwelled on it, the more pathetic he felt.
"Of course he will!" Peach responded immediately and without hesitation. "Marth was so sweet last year. Remember? He loved every gift that was given to him under that Christmas tree last year. The years before that were the same too. I think I baked him some cookies last year for Christmas. I'm going to be doing that again this year. Mostly all of my gifts to everyone will be something edible. I'm making you a cheesecake, Roy!"
Roy rubbed the back of his head. "Cheesecake, huh?"
"Yup! Oh, I better get back to my room. I'm so sorry if I woke you!" Peach told him apologetically. It sounded like she felt really bad about it. "Are you sure you're feeling well though? I can make you some tea if you would like. I don't mind at all."
Roy shook his head. "It's okay, Peach. I'm perfectly okay. I think I just need to rest some more. I've been, well, having trouble sleeping this past couple of days. I have medicine for it though." Lies. "Anyway, you should go on and get some sleep. Just let me know when it's okay to go over to your room so that I can start knitting the scarf."
"Alright, Roy. Well, have a good night." With that, Peach turned on her heels and walked down the hall while humming a little tune to herself.
The young lion watched her go. Even after she had disappeared around a corner he was still staring, becoming lost in space. It was a while before he snapped himself out of it. Feeling a bit dazed, Roy stepped back into his room and shut the door in front of him. He made sure it was locked before he dove back into his bed. When his face touched his pillow, he grimaced. It was still soaked with his tears and snot. It was gross. Roy shoved his pillow off the bed and sighed heavily. Moonlight was illuminating his bedroom from the open window. There was not a breeze tonight. The curtains were still.
Roy's gaze was fixated on those unmoving curtains. The ethereal light from the moon shone right through them. Nighttime sounds could be heard from the outside. It had a calming effect on Roy. It did nothing to stop dark thoughts from entering his mind though. He could still feel Marth's hand pressing against his forehead. The way he looked at him. His eyes had been full of concern. For him. Marth cared about him. Marth touched him. Roy wanted to feel that again. He wanted to experience that sensation once more. How could he? It would be extremely weird to ask Marth to touch him. Ridiculous. Marth would look at him in a completely different way if he asked such a ludicrous question. Roy was already in a nightmare. Doing something like that would make his nightmare ten times worse, and he was not looking forward to something like that. He would somehow have to make peace with what he had now, which were his filthy dreams and his endless imaginations. He could only have Marth from afar. At a distance. He was never allowed anything more than that. The realization hit Roy hard and he felt remorseful all over again. All he wanted was to have Marth to himself. That was all he wished for. Wishes did not come true though. Not for him, at least. Especially not disgusting wishes like his.
Two more weeks until Christmas. Master Hand had brought the Christmas tree as promised. The giant tree was situated in the common area of the mansion where all the fighters could lounge together. It was a really big room, big enough to house the massive tree that he had gotten. Wrapped Christmas presents were already underneath the tree. There were presents of all shapes and sizes, wrapped with colorful paper and topped with flashy bows. Quite a few of fighters wondered what the giant presents were for and what was inside of them. Everyone settled with finding out Christmas morning.
Learning how to knit a scarf was a different experience. It was a great bonding time with Peach. They really got along well. Peach was so nice and understanding about it all. It was frustrating at first, but Roy did his best to get it just right. He hurt himself a few times too. His fingers were covered in Band-Aids by the time they were finished knitting Marth's scarf. Roy was not going to lie and say that the scarf came out perfect. It did not. It was far from perfect. The scarf was of different colors. There was blue, green, yellow, and a bit of red. It looked tacky, but it would still keep a person warm from the cold. That was all that mattered. Roy was still worried about the presentation of the scarf but Peach constantly assured him that Marth would love it because he had taken the time to knit it for him. She told him that was all that mattered. Roy wanted to believe her. He really did. He just could not bring himself to do so. When he got back to his room with Marth's gift, he carefully placed it in a box, wrapped it, and took it to the Christmas tree.
As he was placing it underneath the Christmas tree, Roy made sure to put a sticker on it that said it was from him and to Marth. He did not want anyone thinking that the present was for them. It was only for Marth. Roy took a step back from the overgrown Christmas tree, staring up at its greenness. There were colorful lights decorating the tree and there was a glowing star at the top of it. A lot of the other fighters had gone and put their own decorations on the tree. There were all kinds of stuff hanging from the oversized plant. Someone had covered it in confetti, one person put little charms and trinkets on it, and a few decided to be normal and put classic decorations on the tree. It was just one big mess. Roy decided that he would not contribute to the tree this year. Instead, he was going to let everyone else put weird stuff on it.
The redhead took a couple of steps away from the tree. He allowed his eyes to roam every part of it, still taking in all the different decorations. The tree certainly was lively this year. He did not remember the tree being this festive last year. It seemed as though everyone was really getting into the Christmas spirit this year. Roy understood. It was the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas was special. It was full of countless lights that were as bright as the stars. People enjoyed each other's company more than usual. They sang songs of joy and played in the snow. Friends and family sat around a fireplace and chatted the night away. It was supposed to be perfect and meaningful. So, yes, Roy understood. That was why he was participating. So far, he had gotten gifts for half of the people who lived in the mansion. He was still working on the other half. Getting so many gifts for the other fighters was very expensive but he believed that it was worth it. He even got gifts for the most questionable of characters like King Dedede and Dark Samus to name a few. Of course, they would never know unless they searched for their gifts under the Christmas tree.
Roy found a comfy sofa in the room. It was one of many. He sat down and continued to gaze at the tree that loomed over him. The lights were beautiful. It was so peaceful in the common room. He was alone and feeling rather cozy in his thin sweater. There was a fire burning in a fireplace nearby and it was just serene silence. Roy liked it. Company would not be unwanted though. Most of the time Roy was up for a good conversation with some friends. Actually, he was in a pretty good mood that evening. He had accomplished his goals for the day and thoughts of Marth were not as frequent. It was nice. Having Marth occupying his mind twenty-four seven was taking a toll on him. It was not as if he found those thoughts to be unpleasant. It was just that he was slowly becoming obsessed.
Am I not already obsessed with him? Roy thought to himself, crossing his legs on the sofa and resting his elbow on the sofa's armrest. He placed his chin in his palm and lowered his eyes to all the presents crowding around the bottom of the tree. The warmth from the fireplace was making him sleepy. Dinner was supposed to be served soon but Roy did not feel hungry in the slightest. He was quite content on staying on the sofa. If sleep claimed him, then so be it. He would sleep soundly as long as nobody bothered him. Roy's eyelids drooped as he listened to the sound of the flames cackling in the fireplace. Eventually, his tired eyes moved to said flames. He watched as they performed a wicked dance. Just when he was about to nod off, someone entered the room. Through the haze of sleep, Roy tried to listen to determine who it was since he could not see from where he sat. They were trying to be quiet, whoever it was. They failed in doing so.
It was none other than the hero king. He was regal as he quietly made his way over to the tree with his arms full of wrapped presents. At first, Roy thought he was dreaming. When he figured out that he was not, his eyes grew ten times their normal size. He sat up straighter and he no longer felt drowsy. Marth noticed him immediately and gave him one of those smiles. Roy's favorite one. The elegant man placed the boxes of presents underneath the Christmas tree neatly. Roy wondered who the presents were for. Was one of them for him? Roy wanted to spring up from the sofa and crawl underneath the tree to find out if Marth had a gift for him too, like last year. He restrained himself, forced his body to cooperate. It was difficult.
"Good evening, Roy. I did not see you there at first. You startled me a bit," Marth spoke to him, moving away from the tree and approaching him. Roy tried not to panic when Marth sat down next to him on the sofa. It seemed that the swordsman wanted to engage in a conversation with him. There was a bit of distance between them on the sofa, which was a good thing. "I apologize. It looked like you were about to fall asleep. I made too much noise, didn't I?" he asked.
Roy stared at his face, feeling like he was suffocating. "Ah, um…no, don't worry about it. I mean, I was about to take a nap here, but then you showed up," he rambled on and on. "I mean, not that it's a bad thing or anything. I wanted your company." Realizing what he just said, he quickly added with a flushed face, "I mean I wanted some company!"
"My company?" Marth looked confused.
"Forget that first part. Not what I meant," muttered Roy, finally tearing his eyes away from Marth's face. It took everything he had to do that simple act.
"Are you sure?" Marth asked, concern written on his handsome features. "And are you still feeling ill? Did you ever go to the infirmary to see Dr. Mario? I know you told us that you just needed some rest, but it is always good to be sure of these types of matters."
Roy ran a hand through his hair. His heart was beating so fast that he believed it would rip out of his chest at any second. He was still struggling to breathe properly. It was like someone zapped all of the oxygen out of the room. Having Marth so close to him made him feel all hot and bothered. Especially when images from his dreams flashed through his mind. Were these appropriate thoughts at the moment? No. Did he have any control over it? Nope. Roy wanted to tear his hair out and scream to the skies above because it was so damn frustrating. Marth was so terribly close but he could do nothing to eliminate the gap between them. It was unfair. Horrible. Roy desperately wished that he could make those atrocious dreams of his into reality with Marth. He was sure that Marth would not be willing. It was only natural to respond with negativity if Marth ever found out Roy's disgusting secret.
"No, I'm pretty sure that I just needed some rest. I'm feeling better now. See?" Roy pointed a finger at his own face, giving Marth a shaky smile. His nerves were getting to him. "No more red face and no more spacing out for me. All is well, so don't worry."
Marth raised an eyebrow at him. A strand of blue hair loosened from behind his ear and splayed across his concerned eyes; he swept it back behind his ear in a swift manner. It was a quick action. There was no meaning behind it. It was just Marth removing some hair from his eyes. Roy, however, thought that simple action made the hero king look even more attractive. Once again, Roy felt like a helpless schoolgirl with a massive crush. It made him feel even more pathetic. He was no schoolgirl, yet he was fawning over Marth like one.
The hero king's lips parted as if he meant to say something, but loud voices interrupted him. Both men put their attention on Wario darting into the room with Pit and Palutena trailing behind him. Palutena looked highly uninterested in what was going on while Pit was carrying a bunch of presents to put under the tree. Wario was cackling loudly while he ran around holding a mistletoe in his hand.
Another nasty cackle shot out of Wario's mouth as he danced around the common area. The ugly smile on his face as he danced in front of the fireplace looked like it belonged to a demon. He held the mistletoe high above his head and chanted, "Two people who stand under the mistletoe will have to kiss! Doesn't matter who it is! They must kiss!" Then, he laughed again.
"He…sure is an odd one," Marth commented, his smile unsure.
Roy barely heard a word the hero king said. He as too busy contemplating Wario's claims. There was some truth to it. If two people were standing under the mistletoe, they would have to kiss. Did that mean that they had to? No. It was just something that people did whenever the holidays rolled around. The young lion wondered if he and Marth would be forced to kiss if they were standing under a mistletoe. That would give him an excuse to feel those delicious lips against his own. Roy became giddy just thinking about it. It was a stupid idea but maybe it could work? Roy wondered if Marth had ever kissed anyone before. He hoped not. He wanted to be Marth's first kiss.
Idiot. What makes you think such a stupid plan would work, anyway? Even if you were standing under the mistletoe with him, that does not guarantee anything. He might hate you for it anyway! Roy's negative thinking was coming into play again. He did not want Marth thinking that he was some delusional pervert, which he was, but nobody needed to know what he did behind closed doors. Not even Marth. All he had to do was make it so that they were both conveniently standing underneath a mistletoe together when nobody was around. It had to be somewhere private without any distractions. He would innocently point out that they were under the mistletoe and that they might have to kiss. Roy was sure that Marth would not be the one initiating the kiss. It would have to be him. It was the only way.
"Will you stop dancing around like that?" Pit asked Wario after he finished putting presents under the Christmas tree. "Nobody's impressed!"
"I have to agree," Palutena remarked from beside Pit. She was absentmindedly running her fingers through her long hair. There was a bored look on her face.
Wario finally stopped his dancing to pick at his nose with a finger. "You can't tell me what to do! I do what I want when I want!" he hollered like a monster. He withdrew his finger from his nose. A large booger was on the tip of his finger. He put it into his mouth and ate it.
"Is that really necessary?" Marth demanded to know, clearly fed up with Wario's strange and awful behavior. A disturbed look was occupying his face.
Roy was quite disturbed himself at Wario's actions. "No, but Wario thinks it is."
"Would you just stop it?" Pit asked Wario, putting his hands on his hips. Annoyance flashed across his face. "And stop with the mistletoe thing too! I saw what you did to Ike and Daisy. They were forced to kiss just because you put the mistletoe over their heads!"
A smirk materialized on Wario's face. "How about I put this over yours and that goddess's head, huh? You'll be forced to kiss too!" He took a menacing step toward them.
Pit suddenly looked ill. He started to push an uninterested Palutena out of the room, frantic and frightened. "Time to go, lady Palutena!"
"Get back here!" yelled Wario, chasing after them as they fled the room.
Roy watched them go, raising his eyebrows. "Ike and Daisy, huh? They actually kissed? I can't believe it. Is the power of the mistletoe that strong?" he asked more to himself than his temporary companion beside him on the sofa.
"Seems so," Marth answered through a sigh, shaking his head. He leaned back on the sofa, tossing his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling. His hands were on his lap and he appeared to be very relaxed right there beside Roy. "He should cease his disturbing behavior. It tends to upset others."
Roy's stomach did a somersault. Kindness practically oozed from Marth. It was such an amazing trait to have. Marth's kindness knew no limits. His heart was forever pure. Roy really liked that about Marth. He liked a lot of things about Marth. He never believed that he would get the chance to tell him all these things though. The only thing he could do for now was to use the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss Marth. It scared him. It really did. He was going to try.
He did not want to be hated. Most of all, he did not want to be hated by Marth. Roy knew full well that his heart would not be able to take it. Slowly, he would sink into endless despair that was full of darkness. If Marth hated him, Roy could no longer see those wonderful smiles of his. All he would see was unimaginable hatred directed at him. In his mind, Roy saw himself crumbling. He was like a fragile wall. Easily breakable. Destruction could reign down upon him at any second and he would not stand a chance. That was how feeble he was. That was how pathetic he was. Those beautiful eyes of Marth's were full of animosity. He was looming over him now, looking down at him as if he were an insignificant ant.
Roy had to remind himself that it was all in his head. He was assuming the worst, as usual. It was natural for him to do that. Especially if he was about to do something stupid like kiss Marth under the mistletoe. Using the mistletoe as an excuse was very risky. If he did that, he would be no better than Wario running around and forcing people to kiss under the mistletoe. Roy already knew how Marth felt about Wario's actions and here he was about to do the same thing? What type of person was he? Roy often wondered that about himself. It was sad but it was the truth. He questioned whether or not he was a good, sane person. It was odd because he already knew what kind of person he was, yet he kept questioning it.
It was the next day. Everything was ready. Roy had put the mistletoe over his bed, the plant hanging by a blue thread from the ceiling. It was high enough for no one to notice when they walked into his bedroom. Roy did a lot of cleaning too, making sure that his room was spotless. He did not want Marth walking into a messy room. He did laundry too. The sheets on his bed were thoroughly clean, as well as his pillow. The redhead also sprayed the whole room with air freshener even though it did not need it. He sprayed and sprayed until tears stung his eyes and his throat felt raw. In the end, he had to open the window to let it air out a bit so that Marth would not die once he walked in.
Roy took a shower and brushed his teeth at least five times after he cleaned his room. On a normal day, the young lion would brush his teeth three times a day. Five times was quite excessive, but he wanted to be ready for that kiss. He even went as far as to eat a couple of breath mints. Roy found an old bottle of cologne in one of his drawers and applied some of it to his neck and wrists. It was unopen, so it was his first time using it. It had a very nice scent that Roy hoped Marth would appreciate. Roy dressed comfortably in a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans.
Yesterday, he had asked Ike to ask Marth to meet him in his room so that he could talk to him about something. Ike thought it was a strange request and had given Roy a long look, which made Roy squirm and fidget. Fortunately, the mercenary caved. He sent Marth the message and informed Roy that Marth would meet him tomorrow in his room. Roy was so shocked that Marth agreed that he nearly had a heart attack. Would his plan actually work?
Roy paced back and forth in his room, one hand at his chin and the other behind his back. His heart was doing a wild dance in his chest and his stomach kept rolling. Overwhelming waves of fear slithered through his veins and his head pounded. It was a headache. A terrible one. The pain was so bad that it felt like a stampede was trampling his brain. His anxiety was getting the best of him and he was beginning to assume the worst once again. He tried to counter those doubts with positive thoughts, but the headache was proving to be an impossible foe to defeat. Roy wanted to chicken out. He wanted to call off his little meeting and disperse his ridiculous plan. How had he been so sure that he himself would have the guts to kiss the hero king? He might just sit there like an idiot and babble about useless topics all while making a fool of himself. That was what most likely would happen. He was such a fool.
His mind conjured that scene again, the one in which Marth had touched his forehead. It was so vivid and fresh in his head. A warm memory. The root that led to other unspeakable thoughts in the chaos that was his mind. Roy suddenly came to a stop, bringing a hand to his hair. He grabbed a fistful of it and pulled, frustrated. Why was he having these thoughts now? Now was not the time!
There was a knock at the door.
Roy's head jerked upward. Panic settled in. His palms grew clammy. Dizziness swept through him. Roy swayed on his feet for a few seconds before stumbling over to the door. He was on autopilot, stuck in a trance. Like a robot, he opened the door and saw Marth standing there with a curious look on his face. Marth's lips stretched into a friendly smile a few seconds later. Was Marth happy to see him or was he just being polite like he always was? Roy stepped aside to let him in, jittery and full of nerves.
"Hey, Marth," he greeted him in a trembling voice. He inwardly cursed himself for showing how nervous he was. He was sure that Marth would notice.
"Hello, Roy." If Marth noticed, he did not say anything about it. The hero king walked into the room in casual attire, which consisted of a pair of dark blue trousers and a navy-blue shirt. His hair looked a bit damp and he smelled like soap and shampoo. Roy guessed that the swordsman had taken a shower before he showed up at his room. Roy prayed that Marth did not see the mistletoe hanging over the bed. "Ike told me that you wanted to talk to me about something. What did you want to talk about?" he questioned.
Roy slammed the door to his room shut. It startled them both. Roy hadn't meant to shut the door with such force. It was his extreme anxiety working against him. A red color crawled up Roy's pale cheeks and his eyes portrayed silent horror at his actions. Marth was watching him closely, unblinking. A frown creased his forehead as he tried to understand what was going on. Marth opened his mouth to inquire about Roy's questionable actions, but then shut his mouth, preferring if Roy explained himself first. Roy fumbled with the lock on the door for a few seconds in awkward silence. It took him a good two minutes to actually get the lock right with his shaky hands. Oh, how foolish he felt! He was a clown. Roy was sure he would fit right into a circus. It was the only logical option at that moment. Face still burning, Roy turned away from the door and gestured to his bed. His throat suddenly felt dry.
"Ah, sorry about that," he mumbled, his words barely coherent. "I just, um, well…please, take a seat?" he finished lamely.
Marth hesitated before walking over to the bed and sitting down. He rested his hands in his lap, more confused than anything else. Anyone would think Roy was behaving strangely if he were in his position. "Okay," said Marth, a little uncomfortable with the way Roy was acting. "What is this about, Roy? What is it that we need to discuss?"
Throat still feeling as dry as a summer day, Roy performed a rigid stroll to his bed. Each footstep felt like it weighed a ton. It was horrible. His walk was unnatural. It was forced. Roy seated himself next to Marth on the bed but made sure to keep a reasonable distance between them. He did not want Marth getting even more weirded out.
Won't he get weirded out by me kissing him anyway?
"Roy?" Marth's voice shattered his racing thoughts.
A sigh broke from Roy's lips and he turned his head so that he was looking at the other swordsman. He placed a palm on the mattress between them, putting some weight on his hand to support his body. It was so awkward and the air between them was thick with confusion and a bit of tension. From Marth's body language, Roy could tell that Marth was puzzled as to what was going on and a little disturbed. Roy did not blame him. He was acting like a total weirdo.
"I…I called you here to discuss something," Roy began, hearing his heart ringing in his ears. He tried to swallow but his mouth was immensely dry. His mouth decided that it no longer wanted to function properly. It was not producing any saliva. Roy's tongue darted out to lick his lips but there was nothing.
Marth scratched his cheek with a finger, staring hard at him. "Yes," he said slowly. "That has already been established. What exactly would you like to discuss with me?" Goodness, how did Marth have such patience with him?
Roy tried his hardest not look away. It was extremely difficult to maintain eye contact with the hero king. Marth's eyes were kind. Knowing what he was going to do made him too embarrassed to keep looking at his face. Cheeks still stained red, the redhead answered, "I wanted to discuss what you wanted for Christmas." That was a lie. He already had Marth's gift under the Christmas tree.
"Oh." Marth blinked incredulously. "I am unsure. So far, I know that I will be receiving a lot of gifts. Perhaps you should surprise me. I would not mind that." Then, his lips stretched into a kind smile. "Is that all you wanted to discuss with me?"
"Pretty much," Roy quipped, nodding. He cleared his throat. "Um. Thanks?"
"You're welcome," Marth replied. "Thank you for thinking of me. That is really nice of you."
Another awkward silence settled between them again. Words were stuck and tangled in Roy's throat. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing. He did not want to sound stupid. He had to say something soon because Marth was not going to sit there forever and wait until he felt like talking again. The mistletoe. He had to mention the mistletoe. That was why he invited Marth here in the first place. He had to kiss him.
"Oh, would you look at that?" Roy pointed a trembling finger at the mistletoe hanging above their heads. "A mistletoe. I guess Wario has something to do with this. I mean, I did hear that he was sneaking into people's rooms and putting mistletoe in them." He was just a little liar today, wasn't he?
Baffled, Marth tilted his head back to look up. His eyes widened a little at the sight of the mistletoe. It was unexpected to him. "Sneaking into people's rooms is taking it too far," he announced. "Someone has to put a stop to his unnecessary antics. Upsetting others for his own entertainment is wrong. Master Hand is going to hear about this eventually." He removed his eyes from the plant and put them on Roy's tomato-red face. "Are you alright?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine…it's just…" Roy felt like he was going to pass out at any second. "You know what happens when two people are under the mistletoe…right?"
It took a few minutes for Marth to reply. "Yes…"
Roy kept his eyes on Marth's face, studying every inch of it in case Marth displayed any sort of hostility toward him. It was still an arduous task to endure. Roy wanted to look away and run out of the room. At the same time, though, he desired to stay with Marth. He was determined to see his plan through. He already got this far.
"They, um…they kiss," murmured Roy in a quiet voice. The hand that was resting on the bed was trembling. He curled his hand into a fist, trying to stop it from shaking so much. "So, I guess that means we have to, you know…"
"We don't have to," Marth retaliated instantly, disbelief written across his face. "Don't be ridiculous. No one is forced to kiss simply because they are underneath a plant. Don't worry. I will help you take it down and inform Master Hand of Wario's horrible actions." Marth made a move to get up from the bed, but Roy stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.
"W-Wait!" Roy exclaimed. "Just wait, please."
Marth settled back down, frowning. "What is it?"
Heart thrashing against his chest like a caged animal, Roy raised his clammy hands until he was cupping Marth's face. He took notice of how the hero king froze upon feeling his touch. The way his body froze made Roy want to retract his hands and hang his head in shame. No. He stilled his fear. He wanted to continue. It was now or never. No backing out now. Roy leaned close until their noses were almost touching. Marth did not move away, did not speak. All was silent. The only thing Roy could hear was their soft breathing and the intense ringing in his ears. Roy closed his eyes and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against Marth's.
It…wasn't what he expected. It was nothing like his dreams or his imaginations. The kiss was dry. Bland too. To make it worse, Marth did not react to it. He only sat there while Roy pushed his lips against his. Roy stayed like that for a minute before pulling away little to gaze at Marth's face. A hint of crimson dusted the hero king's cheekbones and his eyes were bigger than normal. He looked reasonably stunned by what just occurred. Roy did not remove his hands from Marth's cheeks, and he was about ready to have a panic attack. What was wrong? Why did the kiss not feel like his dreams? What was he doing wrong? Was it because it was his first kiss? Why was Marth looking at him like that? Why was he such an idiot? All these thoughts swarmed his mind.
Suddenly, he felt hands wrap around his wrists. They were Marth's hands. His hands were warm. The stunned look on Marth's face had morphed into an expression of perplexity. "Roy," Marth murmured, uncertain and appearing to be a bit uncomfortable by what just transpired between them. "Why did you kiss me?" As Marth asked this, the color in his cheeks darkened.
Roy surprised himself by how calmly he answered that question, "We're under the mistletoe. We had to kiss. It's bad luck if we don't."
"We're both men, Roy," Marth responded slowly as if he were speaking to a young toddler. He did not let go of Roy's wrists as he spoke. "And we do not have to abide by a silly myth. We can make our own choices, Roy. You did not have to kiss me."
"But I wanted to kiss you, Marth," Roy replied, bottom lip trembling as he talked. "There's…there's nothing wrong with two guys liking each other." Realizing what he said, he corrected himself in a low voice, "There's nothing wrong with two guys kissing each other." But I do like you, Marth. I like you a lot.
Marth gave him a long, judgmental stare. "Roy, you're confused."
That struck a nerve. Roy adopted a vehement expression. It still felt like his heart was trying to break out of his chest. The hands that were still holding Marth's face were shaking as Roy became more emotional. "I'm not confused. I know what I want," he told Marth firmly and with control. "And all I ever wanted was you, Marth."
Another look of alarm struck the hero king's face. Disbelief colored his startled eyes. He shook his head, refusing to believe such words. "You are mistaken, Roy," he breathed. "You are so very confused."
As if silently disagreeing with Marth's unwanted words, Roy moved one hand up and fisted it in Marth's hair and pulled the other toward him, tilting his head at just the right angle so that his and Marth's lips could meet once more.
This kiss was different. It was moist. There was still the issue of Marth not returning it, but Roy didn't give a damn. He thrust his tongue into Marth's mouth, giving himself the pleasure of exploring every inch of this special place. Roy had zero experience in kissing but he was going to do his best, following his dreams' countless examples. His other hand was gripping Marth's hip while his other hand remained fisted in his hair. Roy could feel Marth trying to pull away from him. Roy did not let him. He kept moving forward while Marth kept moving back. Eventually, Roy found himself on top of Marth with their lips still attached. His hands were planted on either side of his head. His heart threatened to rip out of his chest with each second that ticked by. When Roy broke the kiss for air, he wasted no time in smashing his lips back into Marth's again. He barely gave them any time to catch their breath.
It was like that for a couple of minutes, with Roy straddling an unresponsive Marth and kissing him with little breaks in between. Roy wanted to fulfill all of his fantasies. It did not turn out that way. It was not what he expected. Not at all. Marth was like a dead body beneath him. Completely indifferent to what was happening, truly unwilling to participate. Roy was foolish for ever thinking that Marth would return such forbidden feelings. It was nothing but a dream. That was all it was. A stupid dream.
Roy finally stopped. He sat up. His cheeks were wet with tears as he stared down at Marth. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked softly, pulling at his hair in frustration and despair. "What am I doing wrong? Am I that horrible? What is wrong with me?" He used an arm to cover his eyes and cried into his sleeve. A horrible feeling was running through his veins. It threatened to corrupt his soul.
A hand was pulling his arm away from his face. Roy was met with a worried, uncertain gaze. It was almost as if Marth pitied him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he snapped viciously, appalled by such a look. "Don't look at me like that! I don't want your pity!"
Marth was sitting up now. Roy was still straddling his lap. Marth looked to be at a loss, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Roy felt the hero king's arms come around him in an embrace. Roy didn't want this. He didn't want Marth's pity or concern. What he wanted was his participation. His love. He wanted Marth to share his feelings.
"Let go of me!" Roy cried, angry tears falling from his eyes. "Why can't you just kiss me back? It feels like I'm kissing a corpse! It's not…it's not like my dreams! It's nothing like my dreams!"
"Roy, you're just confused," Marth said softly, still hugging him close.
"I am not confused! Will you please stop saying that?" Roy shot back through his tears. He was resting his chin on top of Marth's shoulder, unable to stop his tears from falling.
Marth exhaled quietly. "Alright," he said gently. "Then you are misguided."
"Why can't you see that I like you, Marth?!" Roy tried to pull away from the hero king, but the arms around him just tightened, preventing escape. "I'm not confused and I'm not misguided. I'm not any of those things! I like you, Marth!"
Marth shook his head. "No, you don't, Roy."
"I like you, Marth!"
"Impossible."
"I'm obsessed with you, Marth."
"Preposterous."
Roy moved his head so that he was looking at Marth again. Marth stared back at him with an untellable expression occupying his handsome features. Roy tried to kiss him again, but Marth moved his head away that time. It was aggravating and Roy was beginning to feel like a complete fool. "Let me kiss you again," Roy feebly said, drained. He was about ready to admit defeat. His heart was sinking with every word they exchanged.
"I can't let you do that again, Roy," Marth muttered uncomfortably, looking away from him. His arms were still wrapped around the young lion. "It wouldn't be right."
"Just one more kiss?" Roy felt pathetic for begging. It was like he had nothing else to lose. He had already shamed himself. Roy was correct in assuming that he would be judged severely for his actions. "Please…one more kiss. Pretend like you want to kiss me. Please. You never have to talk to me again after this. I promise." It pained him to say those words but he was sure Marth wanted nothing to do with him after they parted ways.
Marth still appeared to be very uncomfortable. He finally returned his gaze to Roy's wet face. A heavy sigh fell from Marth's lips and he relented. "Fine. One more kiss. I will…try to reciprocate."
This did not make Roy feel any better. He tried to smile, but it came out all wrong. There was a terrible ache in his heart and the only thing it could do was grow. Roy's hands were trembling when he grasped Marth's face again. A red color flooded the hero king's cheeks. It really complemented his features. Roy could tell that Marth was still against this. That was not going to stop him though. Roy brought his lips to Marth's again, capturing them in a deep, open-mouth kiss. To his surprise, he felt Marth's warm hand touch the back of his neck, his other arm still wrapped securely around his waist. He was kissing him back. He was actually kissing him back.
It was a miracle. A false one. It was all an act. Marth was only pretending. He was doing this because he pitied him. Roy was okay with that. For now, that is. He was not looking forward to discovering what state he would find himself in after it was all over.
Their tongues were touching. They performed a slow dance. Roy lost himself in the kiss, pushing all his negative thoughts away to focus on this one moment because this was the only time that he would ever be this close to Marth. It was the sad truth. Roy wrapped his arms around Marth's neck as they continued to kiss each other. Their lips moved against each other in perfect sync. It was almost as if this was supposed to happen. It was meant to be and it wasn't meant to be. It was cruel. It was passionate. It was sad.
When they broke apart for air, their lips found each other again. This happened again and again and again for the next twenty minutes or more. Roy lost track of time. All he knew was that he wanted to stay in Marth's arms forever. They ended their kiss for what seemed like the millionth time. Roy planted a quick kiss to Marth's cheek and then his chin, his forehead, and right below his left eye. He did not want the moment to end. He never wanted it to end.
Marth brushed through Roy's red hair with his fingers, pressing a kiss against Roy's jaw. He trailed soft kisses down his exposed neck. This startled Roy a bit but he said nothing. He let Marth do as he wished and relished in the pleasant feeling the kisses gave him. As Marth peppered Roy's throat with gentle kisses, Roy softly whispered his name with tears streaming down his face.
Eventually, the hero king ceased his actions. He blinked a few times as if realizing what he had just done. An unrecognizable expression passed across his face. Roy stared back, mute. Marth used his hands to wipe away Roy's tears, wordless. It took a moment, but Marth managed to clean up Roy's wet face. Without saying a word, Marth moved away from the young lion and slid off the bed. As he did so, he yanked the mistletoe from the ceiling and quietly left the room. The door shut behind him.
Roy drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He rocked back and forth. A breeze from the open window blew through his hair. It was semi-quiet. The rustling from the trees outside could be heard in the background. Snow fell from the sky. The room felt cold. Roy felt cold.
It was Christmas Eve. It was possible that the fighters who had not gotten all their Christmas shopping done were doing their last-minute shopping and preparing. Peach was probably baking like a madwoman in the kitchen with the help of Daisy and Mario. Some of the fighters were most-likely adding their final decorations to the giant Christmas tree in the common room. There was probably a mountain of wrapped presents under the tree. Roy could imagine all of this in his head as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. Everyone was probably excited for Christmas the next day, and it was natural to assume that they were constantly wondering what kind of presents they got from each other.
Roy already decided that he would not be joining them. The day was slowly moving into the evening. Different colors splashed the sky. Dark clouds of all shapes and sizes rolled in. It was beginning to snow again. There was no wind today. It was very still outside as the snow quietly fell. Roy no longer cared about the festivities. He was too caught up in his own feelings. Everyone would just have to open all the presents without him tomorrow. That was how it was going to be. They would receive gifts from him since all his gifts to the other fighters were under the Christmas tree. It was all well for them. Roy did not care what he got or if presents addressed to him were left there untouched.
A couple of weeks had gone by ever since that horrible day. Roy rarely left his room. He limited his eating to only one meal a day, which usually turned out to be lunch. He would go to the dining hall, grab his food, avoid speaking to others as best he could, and then take his food back to his room to eat. It was depressing being alone but he preferred it that way. Roy had not seen Marth since then. When he walked to the dining hall, the hero king was nowhere in sight. Roy did not want to ask anybody about it, so he let it be a mystery to him. It was a mystery that would forever remain unsolved.
Roy was hurting. He felt numb. It was like his heart had been shredded into pieces. Memories from that day haunted him to no end. Roy believed that he was living a nightmare before. He was really living in one now. He was very sure that Marth hated him. That look of pity and those words of indifference kept popping back into his head. Every time they did, he would feel a pain in his chest. For the first few days after that occurrence, he had cried. Now, there were no more tears. There was just eternal emptiness. Roy felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into this emptiness. Some would probably say that he was being dramatic and others would feel sorry for him.
He rolled over onto his side, tucking one hand underneath the pillow that his head was resting on. It was warm under there. For his hand, at least. The rest of his body was cold. Cold air filtered through the open window. His room was a frozen cave. He liked it that way. The darkness and the cold intensified his depression. Roy did nothing to cheer himself up. He felt like he deserved to be sad. It was his punishment for ever thinking that Marth would understand or reciprocate his feelings for him. He was being punished for all the sins that he had committed. His dirty thoughts and dreams had ceased. He never pleasured himself anymore. It was a thing of the past. He was too sad to do anything.
Roy tried to cry but the tears would not come. He wondered if Marth told everyone about what happened between them. Well, if he did, he was safe in his room. Everyone could judge him from the other side of his bedroom door. He was already judged by the person he cared for the most. He did not need to see others judging him too.
He shut his eyes. Slumber soon took him. When he woke up again, there were soft knocks coming from his door. Roy's eyes lazily moved to gaze at his digital clock on his nightstand. It was ten minutes before midnight. Ten minutes before Christmas. Who was visiting him at this time? Roy did not seek company or comfort from anyone. A disgusting person like him did not deserve any type of comfort. If someone cared about him, would they have not shown up earlier? For weeks he had been depressed. Nobody showed up until now. What could they possibly want? Roy was quite content on ignoring whoever was on the other side of that door. He pulled his pillow out from underneath his head and hugged it to his chest as the soft knocks continued. Roy hoped that the person would just go away but they were persistent. Their knocking went on and on. They got louder as the clock continued ticking.
Fed up, Roy sat up in his bed and yelled, "Stop knocking on the door! I'm not opening the door, so you might as well just give up now!"
The knocking stopped.
Then, there was a voice, "I just want to make sure you're alright." It was Zelda.
Roy did not give her a response. He sat there and just stared at the door, unmoving. There was a long silence. Zelda said nothing more. Roy assumed that she left and he lowered his head back down onto the mattress beneath him. He wrapped his arms around his pillow again and closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep through Christmas? He doubted that. He would wake up at some point tomorrow.
Daylight flooded the room. The sunlight failed in warming up Roy's icy bedroom. Roy was curled up in his bed, the pillow still enveloped in his arms. His body was shivering. It was still snowing outside. Disoriented, the young lion placed his attention on the clock. It was early in the morning, around six. Everyone was probably gathering in the common room to open their presents. It was Christmas morning, after all. Roy already made his decision not to join them. He hoped they would understand. How could they though? They knew nothing of what happened unless Marth informed them. Roy did not want to find out whether or not that was true.
A yawn shot out of his mouth as he clumsily slid out of his bed. He felt a little off balance when his feet touched the carpet. Roy walked to his bathroom and then proceeded to take a shower and brush his teeth. When he was done, he put on some clean clothes and sat down on his bed. It was so quiet. Roy scratched the top of his head, trying to force away those thoughts of Marth. They kept plaguing him. It was like they were taunting him, reminding him of what he would never have or what he had done to make Marth hate him.
Roy hugged himself. He sneezed and then sniffled. It was obvious that he was coming down with something. Did he care? Not one bit. The swordsman closed his eyes. He was so lonely. Sadness still stabbed at his heart repeatedly. He wished he could stop feeling this way. It was a horrible feeling. Maybe if he ceased to exist then all the pain would go away?
"Wow," he stated bitterly, opening his eyes. "Am I becoming suicidal now?"
A hollow laugh fell from Roy's lips. It was barely noticeable at first. It got louder. He laughed and laughed until his throat was raw. Roy pulled at his hair and doubled over. At this point, he was becoming deranged. He hated himself so much that he just wanted to die. He was such a coward. So pathetic!
Another knock.
Roy paused. Listened. The knocks were light. When he looked at the clock again, it was already in the afternoon. Everyone already opened their presents. Were they now just realizing that he was missing? Roy wanted to tell them to go away but he did not have the energy to yell anymore. His throat was burning from all the insane laughing that he had been doing. Roy wanted nothing to do with whoever was on the other side. Why wouldn't they let him feel sorry for himself in peace? It made no sense to him. Could they not see that he chose to be alone? If he wanted their sympathy, he would have asked for it by now.
"Roy?"
Roy whipped his head in the direction of the door so fast that his neck almost snapped. It was a familiar voice, a voice that he believed he would never hear again.
It was Marth.
"Roy…is it alright if I speak with you for a bit?"
The redhead shakily got to his feet and walked over to the door. He unlocked it and then pulled it open. There was Marth. The hero king looked exhausted. There were bags underneath his eyes and his hair was unkempt. There was something in his hands. It was the scarf that he had made him.
"Hello Roy," Marth tiredly greeted him, hesitant. "May I come in?"
Roy stepped aside emotionlessly to let him inside. Marth entered the room. Roy closed the door behind him and then wordlessly sauntered back to his bed. He lowered himself onto the bed and then looked up at Marth, wondering what he wanted. At the moment, he felt nothing.
Marth was clutching the scarf rather tightly in his hands. "Everyone was wondering where you were when we were opening presents…" he murmured gently.
"Is that all you came here for?" Roy demanded to know, lifting a brow. He then looked away from Marth, rubbing his arm. "If it is, you can show yourself out. I already told you that you never have to speak to me again. I know you hate me."
"Hate is a strong word, Roy," Marth retorted in a quiet voice. He took a step forward and then knelt on the floor in front of him, still holding the poorly knitted scarf that was a mixture of various colors. "It is difficult for me to hate anyone."
Roy lowered his gaze to the hero king's face, swallowing a lump in his throat. It was hard for him to believe Marth's words. For all he knew, the swordsman could be lying through his teeth. "I know you're lying. You hate me. Just admit it already. You're not fooling anyone."
"I can never hate you, Roy."
"Admit that you hate me, Marth."
Marth's lips flattened into a straight line at Roy's latest response. From the distressed expression on his face, he was struggling to come up with the right words to say. Roy inspected that tired handsome face. He wanted to reach out and touch him. He wanted to kiss him again.
Bad idea.
"I want to apologize," Marth eventually breathed, keeping his eyes on him. "I have realized that I did not take your feelings into consideration. It never occurred to me that you would actually feel attracted to me in such a way. I was…ignorant. I was in denial. I am deeply sorry for some of the things I said to you that day. Please, will you find it in your heart to forgive me, Roy?"
Roy rolled his eyes, unconvinced. "What brought this on all of a sudden? You want to apologize now? Now? Why now?"
"I have lost sleep over this," Marth fired back vehemently.
"And what is "this" is exactly?" retorted Roy skeptically. "Do you mean the way I feel about you? I didn't know it was so horrible that you couldn't sleep. Does it make you sick? Do I disgust you? Is it really that bad?"
Marth slowly shook his head. "That isn't what I meant, Roy. I-"
"If I'm so disgusting to you, then why are you here?" Roy cut him off, anger fueling his words. "Why do you even bother with someone as pathetic as I am? My feelings aren't valid. I deserve to be punished for even developing feelings for you. I've known this ever since I started liking you. It's nothing new to me."
"Roy, I feel bad about what happened that day," Marth tried to explain, desperation evident in his voice as he moved a little closer to him. He had dropped the scarf on the floor.
"Oh, so you're only here to make yourself feel better. Is that it?" Roy countered, getting worked up. "That is it, huh? You're only here for yourself, not for me!"
Even Marth had his limits. Impatience was brewing on his face. He was frowning at him, quickly thinking up something to say. "That is not true at all."
"Oh, but it is. It really is." Roy was shaking his head. A melancholic expression decorated the young lion's face and he was surprised to feel tears stinging his eyes. "You only pity me. I don't want your pity, Marth, nor do I need it."
Marth moved even closer until he was between Roy's knees. His hands were gripping Roy's hips. Roy was frozen in place, unable to believe what was happening. Marth was voluntarily touching him. It was strange and Roy did not know how to feel about it. There were so many emotions assaulting his heart. Was Marth doing this out of pity or was he being truthful?
"I want to give you a chance," Marth confessed gently.
"You're lying," Roy feebly said back to him, trembling as Marth stared up at him. "Why are you doing this? Why do you want to give me a chance now? You hate me, remember?"
Marth hung his head for a moment, hiding his face. Silence came between them. The hero king's hands remained on Roy's hips and Roy could feel the tears spilling down his cheeks. Roy wanted to pull away. He wanted to yell and force Marth out of his room but he knew he could not do that. He wanted Marth to stay where he was. Who was he kidding? Having Marth there was a blessing, even if he damaged his heart. Did it really matter if Marth was lying to him? As long as Marth was with him, he would be okay. There was still something deep down inside of him that was telling him that he would not be okay with that at all. Roy ignored that feeling. He wanted to focus on Marth's handsome face for now.
"What can I do to make you believe me, Roy?" Marth quietly asked after their moment of silence was over. "Is there anything I can do? I want you to forgive me. I want to give you a chance. We can try. I am willing to try. I was against this at first, but I had time to think it over. If we try, we can get to know each other more. Maybe we will both fall in love with each other. We will never know unless we try, so, please…please tell me what I can do so that you will believe me."
The remorse in Marth's voice was unmistakable. His words were lathered with the truth. There was no denying that. Marth was putting in real effort. He desired to make amends. The hero king was willing to try. Did that mean Marth would come to love him? There was no guarantee. What mattered was that Marth wanted to try to be in a relationship with him. Roy used the back of his hand to wipe away his tears, a little smile spreading across his face. It didn't quite reach his eyes. He reached out and brushed some hair away from Marth's beautiful eyes.
"I wasn't lying when I told you that I was obsessed with you, you know," Roy spoke, his fingers still playing with Marth's hair. "I think I'm addicted to you, Marth."
"You still haven't answered my question yet," Marth pointed out. "What can I do to make you believe me, Roy?"
"I'm getting there," Roy murmured in response, his hand lowering to caress Marth's cheek. "I just…I just wanted you to know that. Just in case you decide you don't want to try anymore. I want you to kiss me, Marth. That's all I want from you right now. Just one kiss."
Marth got up from the floor, letting go of Roy's hips in the process. He took a seat next to him on the bed, his body facing him. "If I kiss you, will you believe me?" he questioned Roy, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Will you allow me to try forming a romantic relationship with you?" As he said these words, color stained his cheeks. It was obvious that Marth was a little shy talking about something like this, or embarrassed.
"Yes," Roy replied, wrapping his arms around the hero king's neck. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. It brought about a nice feeling in the depths of his soul. His heart was singing songs and his head felt lighter. "Just kiss me."
Marth's arms went around Roy's waist and he closed the gap between them. An ample mouth attached itself to Roy's lips. It was warm and it was slow and it was wonderful. It was all he wanted, and he hoped that he would get more in the future because he adored the hero king. And he hoped with all his heart that his feelings would be returned.
Love me, Marth, because you mean the whole world to me.