I wished that I could contribute a piece of fanfiction to this beautiful underrated movie, and I even desperately asked for some ideas on Tumblr. Some gave pretty good prompts, but they didn't inspire me enough to write something. Then, I made contact with a lovely part-time author. You can find her on .com and she has the most amazing writing skills ever. I asked her anonymously to write out her top 5 songs for Butterfly Bog, and to tell you the truth, I wasn't disappointed. There was this song by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts called 'Do You Wanna Touch Me' and I immediately fell in love with it the first time I heard it. I started on this story, blindingly making my way through it, and this song became the whole purpose of it. Continue reading and you'll know what I mean.

The sound of insects rubbing their legs together morphed with the strange creatures of the deep Dark Forest could be starkly heard if you listened hard enough, but to Princess Marianne and the Bog King, the world they currently shared was silent.

Not that silence was a bad thing, of course. Silence was good. Silence gave people a chance to think clearly and be at a peaceful state of mind. Although this was not entirely true, but at least that was what Marianne, Princess of the Fairy Kingdom, had tried convincing herself. She nearly cringed at the thought of the nearly-awkward silence Bog and herself shared.

She stole a glance at him nervously, and found that he seemed to have his mind occupied with something other than noticing this gaping silence.

She wanted to have that intimate conversation again. She wanted him to look at her again. She loved it when he does that. No one has ever looked at her that way before. She thought of Roland, that power-hungry cheat who had destroyed what she thought would be the best day of her life. Not even the adoration plastered on his swoon-worthy façade would ever compare to the way the Goblin King looked at her. No one had ever looked at her that way before. The thought of it sent thrills down her spine and meadow butterflies in her tummy.

Bog and Marianne were taking a slow stroll through some of the brighter areas of the Dark Forest, barely hovering above the bushes of wild flowers. There, the canopies were not as thick and the sunlight made its way through the thin foliage with ease, giving out help to the flowers with their blooming. She observed the way Bog's wings buzzed, which was entirely different from the way her butterfly-like wings fluttered gracefully. Which brought her back to thinking of how different they looked from each other. But of course, Bog looked as handsome and gallant as ever-

"Marianne?"

She turned her head swiftly to look at him at the sound of his voice.

"Yes?" she replied, almost a little too eagerly.

She watched as he pursed his lips and looked up thoughtfully.

"I…" He swallowed and managed to pull himself together to finally look at her. He stumbled with his words clumsily when he noticed her lovely, big, golden-brown eyes staring back at him with such intensity, and they drank up every ounce of courage he had been building up during their silence. Sometimes he wondered how anybody was able to do that to him. She patiently waited for the rest of the sentence.

"You look beautiful today," he said. He smiled shyly and looked down to his feet.

Marianne's heart fluttered in her chest and her stomach twisted into delirious little knots as she strained to keep herself from squealing. She smirked and turned to look at him coyly.

"Only today?" she teased.

Bog opened his mouth to protest but closed it again, not really sure of what to say. Marianne caught his expression and threw back her head with delighted peals of laughter.

"Yes, only today. But I promise to say the same thing every single day," he said, cheeks reddening a little. That came out a lot cheesier than he intended. What was happening to him?

Marianne smiled at him, thinking of another way to tease him to lighten the mood, but she could not ignore the fact how he complimented her with such shyness in his expressions. He was entirely different from the very first moment she had met him.

"Well, you have to keep your promise!" she replied and laughed again. She couldn't help herself. Bog was too easy to tease.

"If only you let me to," he said.

Marianne's laughter died down. She gently elbowed him, making him sway at the impact, and said, "Don't be so serious, I was only teasing…"

"I know."

They continued their stroll in silence. They both observed their surroundings. They were heading towards the darker areas of the forest. It was nearly sundown and the sun's yellow light scattered in between the foliage, making everything glow in a golden hue.

Bog was thinking of something to start a new conversation, but Marianne piped up, "You know… These used to grow in the Fairy Kingdom." He followed her gaze and spotted small clusters of tyrian purple flowers beneath them.

"But my grandfather made sure he got rid of every single one of them, after passing down the throne to my father."

Bog glanced at Marianne. She looked almost sad. "Why?" he asked.

"He just didn't like them. I remember how much and fast these used to grow, but by then, they were slowly growing extinct because the whole kingdom was forced to pull them right out from their roots. Well, it wasn't much of a force anyway, most of the people did not like those flowers. They were considered pests at one point."

Marianne flew downwards towards a small cluster and picked one of the flowers. "So, why do you like them so much?" Bog asked.

"I dunno. They're not only pretty, but they can thrive in any place they like, that's the best part. They're such strong plants and I love that." She twirled the flower in her hands thoughtfully.

"I could have these sent to you every day. I mean, if you want to," Bog offered.

Marianne sighed. "That's too risky… Dad might find out. He hates these as much as my grandfather did."

"Well, sneak them into your room or something."

Marianne smiled at his wishing to fulfill her happiness. "Don't encourage me! I have enough problems to deal with already, especially with him."

"Who?"

"I meant Dad."

"Oh."

There was a slight pause before Bog continued, "Then, whenever you come to visit, I'll make sure these are picked especially for you. You can leave them here when you leave for home."

"Thanks. That's… That's really sweet of you."

"My pleasure."

They fell into silence once again.

Many thoughts were running in both their minds, but the one difference was that Marianne was thinking of ways to get closer to Bog. Not emotionally, but physically. She wanted to explore the unusual scales on his shoulders and get to know the shape of his fingers a little better. Maybe it was a little too fast-paced for the both of them, and she remembered how things were getting way too quickly between herself and Roland…

He shook the thoughts of Roland away and maneuvered them back towards Bog.

Bog sensed her tensed atmosphere and noticed the sudden quick flutter her wings made. "Is something wrong, Marianne?"

She loved the way he said her name. She could hear the affection in his voice and she absolutely adored it. Without answering his question, she led him towards a more secluded area covered in thick foliage near the top of the trees. She landed on a branch wide enough to stand on properly, with Bog tailing after her.

She had her back facing him, linking her arms across her chest, thinking of the right words to say to him.

Bog stared at her wings that were half-spread out behind her. He remembered the first time they were getting to know each other a little better, and he looked at her wings the way he never would have thought of doing before. Marianne said something, but he did not hear her, being too absorbed in his own thoughts.

"What?" he said.

She spun around to face him and blurted out, "Do you want to touch me?" She had intended to say it a little more differently, and not too directly, or perhaps a totally different question. Her cheeks flushed, but she kept her face straight.

"I… I-" Bog stammered.

There was only one way she could properly express herself, and it came out naturally. She shrugged and let her eyes casually sweep over him from top to bottom, and back again to the top.

"We've been here too long, tryin' to get along, pretending that you're oh, so shy," she started to sing and ended up rolling her eyes at the thought of their awkwardness.

She flew closer towards him and continued: "I'm a natural ma'am doing all I can, my temperature is running high." She swept her hair away from her forehead, only resulting to falling back down again into place. Bog felt a knot twist in his stomach.

"Cry at night, no one in sight, and we've got so much to share," she sang, walking away from him, throwing her arms up in the air. "Talking's fine, if you got the time, but I ain't got the time to spare!"

She turned to look at him dramatically. "Do you wanna touch?"

"Touch?" Bog asked, even though he knew exactly what she meant.

"Do you wanna touch?" she repeated and took a step closer towards him.

"Do you wanna touch me there? Where?" she sang, almost shouting out the words and flared out her giant gossamer wings behind her. Bog's wings slightly buzzed behind him, startled.

"Do you wanna touch?" She took a step closer.

"Do you wanna touch?" Another step closer. Seeing that he had not moved an inch from his position, she took the last step directly in front of him.

"Do you wanna touch me there? Where? There?"

"Yeah," Bog responded. He put his arms around her and brought her even closer to him, their bodies now resting against each other. Marianne was surprised at first, but realized his actions, so she lifted up her arms and placed them around the shoulders of the goblin she had grown to love.

"This is way better," she said, smiling.

Bog did not say anything, but merely smiled back at her. He examined her face and lifted his arm to push a few stray hairs away from her face.

Despite what she demanded half a minute ago, Marianne felt that whatever intimacy they were sharing now was a lot better than what she had expected. Well, she wasn't even sure of what she expected. Did she expect him to touch her a little inappropriately? Or did she expect him not to make a move at all?

"Marianne, I can hear you thinking! What is going on in that thoughtful mind of yours?" Bog told her in between amused chuckles.

Marianne bit her lip and hugged him closer in her arms, so that they were almost nose-to-nose.

"This," she said, and gently brought her lips to his.