Marth's POV:

I've always questioned myself. I really have, but yet again, who doesn't? For a long time now, I've been questioning about getting into a relationship at this day and age. Hell, I am18, you know. Ever since I joined this hell of a "survival training/popularity-based" community, I've been taking the opportunity to look for someone to call my own–

Of course, that's where the real questioning begins. The person I had in mind was someone who was warm, charming, and possessed a bright and outgoing nature. This person could make me melt through the cracks with the flick of a smile, or perhaps, make me spend a little time with a snake (If you know what I mean) ... oh gods, why does this person do this to me? All over, this person had the best personality anyone could look for: loyal, good-willed, and tenacious to strong, yet reasonable beliefs. This person sparred with me in the training room, shared one-to-many laughs with me, talked to me when they had any conflicting issues going on, but most importantly –

... opens the damn blinds in my room too early in the morning, when the sun just has to shine its brightest. ( ... and no, it's not Princess Peach, guys.)

"Son of a– ... Roy!" I trailed off, still groggy from a horribly inconvenient night of sleep deprivation (damn, late-training sessions ...), "I told you to stop - opening - the frickin' - blinds so - damn early."

Always a morning person, Roy wore a grin on his face. Exactly the kind that had made me melt from the beginning ...

"Marth! Time to get up!" He said as he shook my bed. "Wakey-wakey, hands off snakey!!" I took a moment to cringe at that saying, it forcing me to recall the time this precious redhead caught me once.

"Damn it, Roy. Can't you let that one go?", I countered as best I could in the early hours. Of course, I couldn't tell him what I was thinking of to cause such an incident. It would scare the fuck out of him. Thank goodness my prayers were answered, and he didn't ask anything of the sort since that awkward moment. The redhead just ridiculed me every morning for it, that's all.

Roy laughed, "But when else is there going to be another time I catch you doing something like that again?! It's too funny to let go!" Now he was practically in stitches. I sighed, knowing that it was pretty, damn futile to fight back.

Taking the time to do any analysis of my object of affection ( call it "checking him out" if you must), I looked at him again, acknowledging his boyishly ravishing appearance. Yes. He was wearing what I liked him best in this morning. A red shirt with a with a flame print right in the center of the chest area ( yet again, another excuse to do more than just a quick analysis), and khaki cargo shorts. Roy was cute to tempting extent. Almost like ... seductive in an adorable fashion. His messy, flame-colored hair was a rare, mesmerizing characteristic, he had the warmest, brightest sapphire eyes anyone could own, and the way his body was built was just how a teenage warrior should look: Lean, slight muscles, and most importantly, attractive.

In a word, Roy was like fire. Warm, burning, passionate, and consequently, a little difficult to get physically close to. Hey, you have to take the risk sometimes.

Paying heed to the bright request I received from him a little earlier, I got out of bed, and stretched to get the morning going. Of course, I have contemplated on telling him exactly how I felt about him, but the fear of rejection always seemed to kick in a little too often ... at least a tad more than the courage seemed to show up.

Doubts always clouded my mind. It's better this way, I thought. Admiring him from afar.

Ardent, strong-willed, cute General Roy,

... you deserve better than someone like me.

Roy's POV:

I'm young, and I still have some decisions to make about my future. Like always, I've given all of these things some thought, just not enough to completely plan my life on it. It's too much to worry about for the likes of a 15-going-on-16 year old like me. Yeah. I think I'll waste my time, just like any other teenager that has the same procrastination streak going on in life as they do with tangible responsibilities (per say, chores and homework).

But I have spent a great amount of time thinking about one matter: Love. Yes, I admit it. I am in (incoherent) need of a "significant other". Lucky me. Like a mall, or a pointless party, the Smash Mansion is chock-full of people to choose from: heroes, princesses, villains, odd, unfamiliar animal species, and hell, even plumbers! But none compare to the one person I have lost sleep over in the past few years.

This was the worst kind of decision making I had to make in my life. You know, the one where you decide your set preferences of a certain gender. Yep, this fucker totally flipped my orientation around.

He was of the "so-cool-I-could-attract-anyone" region. Shimmering, midnight blue hair, pale skin, and eyes the color of ice. Oh gods, how sexy is that? This person was kind and slightly reticent, despite his frigid appearance, and he never loses his calm nature in any kind of situation! Not even when Young Link got stuck in the toilet!! (Oh geez, how funny that was...) He counseled me when I had problems, helped me improve my swordsmanship during training sessions, and was ... all over fun to hang out with.

Moreover, this person actually lets me bother him so early in the morning!

After doing my "self-proclaimed" duty and waking the beauty from his slumbers, I occupied myself with the Gameboy Advance SP I had brought ... it always did take awhile for Marth to get up. However, I did manage to take in a few glances of him. Marth's pajamas were ... gods, what's the word? (Perhaps, enticing?) And NO, he was not nude. Not that I wouldn't want him that way– well, not that I wanted it ... but–– agh, let's drop the subject! Anyway, him in his loose, yet fitting frost-blue shirt with the cobalt sleeves. And the pants. The blue, plaid pants that I'd like to– stoppit Roy. Mental slap. Dammit. Why Marth? Why must you seduce me so ... so unintentionally?!

As I keep repeating (much like an over-obsessive "fangirl", or whatever the hell their called), Marth was a horribly, good-looking guy. He possessed a perfect complection, an adequate height for his age, a lithe body, and the lean muscles that all swordsmen seem to possess. Marth had the kind of smile that no one could describe with one word (okay, let's go my way: throw in sweet, seducing, and mysterious all into one thing), the smile that could always make my day, no matter how shitty the rest of it has been.

In a word, Marth was like snow. Cold, yet delicate, and deliberately wonderful to spend hours and hours looking at.

"C'mon Marth! Get up or you'll miss all the good food for breakfast!" I yelled, hoping this would make him speed up a little more in his process.

"Alright, alright Roy," he replies smoothly, with a hint of lethargy thrown in. And with that, the bluenette is finally done fixing his bed (who does that?), and walks out the door with me to the staircase.

Walking next to this beauty, I try to build up confidence to finally say how I felt, or at least, hint it. But like any other time I've tried, cowardice always decides to kidnap me and take me back to square one.

Doubts always clouded my mind. It's better this way, I thought. Admiring him from afar.

Frigid, calm, understanding Prince Marth,

... Someone like me could never have a chance with you.