AN: Welp. After 'refusing' to be sucked into the Fanfiction world, I have been ambushed with a plot that I needed to jot down. Which ended up being made into a full on longshot.

Let me know how I did. I've never really been a writer, and have recently begun to delve into the writing world. And I love it so far.

So yeah. That's about it. Enjoy, leave a comment or two, and continue being a classy folk.

No cuts, no buts, no coconuts.

Cheers.

Also. I don't own the Legend of Zelda. At all. Unfortunate.

Sick Days

Lying on my couch in my apartment, I stretch against the backrest soaking in the brilliant sunlight from my window. My blanket slides off my lap onto the floor knocking the remote control for the television that was sitting next to me down with it. Not that I was watching anything important anyway—just a local news station covering something about some cat being stuck in a tree in 'downtown'.

Seriously, this was news? No wonder small towns didn't have anything exciting happening.

Since moving to Ordon, I have found that I love big cities. Sure, Ordon is beautiful, don't get me wrong. I just see it as a vacation spot rather than a hometown. I miss the city noises. The hustle and bustle of people running from this shop to that restaurant, the constant stream of traffic letting lose a low hum all night, the people.

Verses the over twenty thousand that I am used to, Ordon is like a family more than a village. There is literally a population of twelve people.

Okay. I might be exaggerating a bit. But the point still stands.

Even though I lived in a big city the majority of my life—for twenty years, to be exact—I can appreciate the rustic areas, too. Many of my days have been spent at the library sitting on their terrace overlooking the main attraction of the town: the lake.

On that terrace was where my life changed for the better. I was sitting on a bench reading a book, and am embarrassed to say I can't remember which one clearly, because that was when I first saw him.

Link.

He came directly to the bench I was sitting on. He had shaggy blonde hair and striking blue eyes, handsome masculine features, and was wearing a sweater. Goodness knows how much I love sweaters on men.

"Hi," he said. His voice threw me for a loop. I wasn't expecting it to be so gentle, so soothing. "Are you new in town?"

I put my bookmark in the book and placed it next to me. A man this handsome deserves my full attention.

"Yes," I answered, "I actually just moved here from the city about two days ago." I tucked my hair behind my ear, to better look at him. That made it much easier now that my ratty hair was out of the direct path of vision to him.

"No wonder I haven't seen you around, then," he gave a light laugh. Somehow I felt I wanted to hear more of it.

Stupid. I just met him. I'm normally not one to pine for someone, and am surprised by the feelings suddenly appearing in my stomach.

"Mind if I ask your name?" He cocked his head to the side, giving me a glance. "And maybe your number, too?" He gave me a crooked smile.

"You'll just have to suffice with my name," I laughed, "I'm Zelda."

"What? No number?" He pouted.

"Nope," I responded, popping the 'p'. "Not until I decide you're worthy of becoming a contact in my list."

"Fair enough," he mused.

"Link!" We both turned our heads to see who called him. I obviously didn't know who the girl with red hair was who was walking toward us, but Link gave out an exasperated sigh and looked at his feet.

"What? Girlfriend?" I whispered playfully.

"Sort of," he huffed. "Long story," he added, seeing the disappointment in my face. "I'd tell you if you give me your number."

"Nice try, but I have a strict three time hang-out rule."

"What's that?" He asked while laughing.

"I need to hang out with you at least three times before I give you my number," I smiled. "You know, to decide if you're worth it," I added flippantly.

"Ouch." He puffed out a breath of air from his mouth."Well, I'll assume you hang out here a lot?"

"Maybe," I respond.

"Then I'll just have to find you again."

And find me he did. He did end up getting my number and we became close friends after that. I laugh at the memory. The laughing makes me cough in fits. I grab a Kleenex and cough straight into it. Then grabbing my cup of water, I take a long pull, draining the glass of the clear liquid.

Why do sinus infections last so long? Even more so if you are a hard working person and can't bear sitting down and resting all day like me. The busy-bodied introvert—it makes for an interesting combination.

I get up again, grabbing my blanket from the ground to wrap around myself, to fill my cup with more water and instantly regret it. My head starts pounding and I can't see straight. Luckily enough, I know the layout of my apartment well enough to aim in the general direction of open walking paths. I make it to the sink when I hear a knock at my door. Leaving my cup on the counter, I skim my hands along the walls to help maintain balance. Placing my hand on the door handle, I turn it and swing it open.

There stands the man I was just reminiscing about, my best friend, Link.

"Hi, Link," I say with a hoarse voice, lightly coughing into my Kleenex. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Zel," he smiles, "your father called me. He told me to check up on you because you sounded like death on the phone earlier. It looks like he was right. How are you feeling?" He places a hand on my shoulder, tilting his head a bit to the side. Watching the motion makes my head light.

"Fine enough," I say. "I'm only dying a tiny bit, so that's not too bad, I guess." I laugh softly, making myself cough again. I back away from the door and lean against the wall.

He shakes his head.

"Even if you were actually dying I don't think you could ever get rid of your lively humor," he deadpans while shutting the door behind him. "Now, let's get you feeling better." He lifts up a grocery bag as we walk back into the living room.

"Link," I squeak, "What is all this?"

"This is the Zelda-get-better-soon kit," he says as he sets the bag down on the counter in the kitchen. "I've got soup, tea, honey, cough drops, a heating pad, some ice cream, and a couple movies from the rental kiosk downtown."

I looked at him from the couch as my jaw dropped.

"Seriously? Link! Holy crap!" I cough. "You didn't have to do that!"

"What are incredibly selfless friends for, Zel?" He says from the kitchen, emptying the contents of the bag onto the counter. "Oh, wait. They are exactly for this reason. Taking care of each other," he laughs while digging through my cupboards for something, probably my tea pot. "And yes I did need to do it," he adds. When I hear water running as confirmation, I lay down with a smile on my face. I have the best friend in the world.

I have wondered since the day we met what would happen if we became more than friends. I love where we are at now, especially since he just showed up at my door with a bag of goodies to help me feel better—including ice cream—but I still ponder. What if?

I would be fine if things progress a bit more. I just don't know how he feels about it all. And that is all the headway I have made on that front.

Coming from the kitchen, I hear the water stop and the tea pot being set on the stove. I adjust my pillow so it is more comfortable behind my back and grab the remote to change the input to the DVD player. He did say that he brought movies.

As he walked into the living room, I couldn't help but stare. His features have grown more mature over the past year I have known him. More painfully attractive—what can I say? I'm a woman. I tend to notice these things in men.

"I've got the teapot going," he says, sitting on the edge of the couch with two DVD cases in his hands. "Want to start one of the movies?"

"You bet," I respond. I look at the choices. He holds them closer and reveals 'The Avengers' or 'Kung Fu Panda'. He truly knows me. I stifle a laugh.

"Nice choices," I respond. "'Kung Fu Panda', please." He nods his head, getting up to put the DVD in. I sit up and lean on the arm rest. Once the DVD is in, he sits down next to me on the couch. He grabs the blanket and puts it over his legs, too, letting me lean into him.

"Before we get too comfortable, do you need anything other than tea right now?" He glances my way.

"No," I muse, "I took some medicine not too long ago, I should be good to go for a while. Otherwise I have a personal butler now," I laugh. Then cough. It tends to go hand-in-hand now. "May I call you Chives?"

"You may most certainly not, madam." He responds in a 'fancy' accent. "Seriously, though. Don't." I smile.

The water for the tea starts to whistle. I lean back to let him off the couch.

"Where are the mugs at?" He turns to face me. His eyes always pierce into me.

"In the far right cabinet," I say as he turns to make his way into the kitchen. "And Chives? Don't forget the honey!" I laugh.

"Not your servant!" I hear him respond from the other room. He is back shortly with two mugs of lemongrass tea. My favorite.

"How did you know this is my favorite tea?"

"Is it?" He takes a sip. "Lucky guess, then." He winks at me.

"No!" I cringe. "You know how much I hate winking! Including winks from you!"

"Then stop calling me Chives, and we've got a deal."

"Fine," I mumble. He grabs two coasters from their holder and places them on the coffee table in front of us. Then grabbing the blanket again, wraps me in it and places his arm around my shoulder. We start watching the movie, content, and after a while I start to nod off, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Are you still with the world of the living?" He asks, bringing his other hand up to my chin to tilt it up towards him. "Or do you need a nap?"

"I'm fine," I say while I yawn, making Link laugh. "Glad I can entertain you with my tiredness. Good to know my hostess skills haven't left me yet."

"And they never will," he responds, tightening his grip on my chin. He stares at my face for a while, his eyes on fire. I freeze. Trying to form a coherent thought, but failing miserably, I stare back. He gives me a crooked smile and, sighing, lets me go and puts some distance between us. It took the motion of him backing away to realize how close we actually were—within inches of each other. Tops. He clears his throat.

"Want some ice cream?" He gets up off the couch, scratching behind his ear.

"Sure," I say. "Scooper is in the drawer next to the stove."

"Thanks," he says, and he's off. I sit on the couch, the blanket ruffled where he lifted it to move. I look to my hands in my lap, wondering what that look meant. It felt weighted, like there was something he wanted to say or do, but didn't. I wonder.

He comes back from the kitchen with two heaping bowls of ice cream. I laugh.

"Link! I can't eat that much ice cream!" I exclaim as he hands me the bowl.

"Yeah, I know. This way I can finish your scraps. Therefore, allowing me to have more ice cream."

"But what if you get sick?"

"Well," he takes a bite, "You'll just have to come over to my place and take care of me, then, wouldn't you? Seeing as you will be the one to poison me, it would be returning the favor." He laughs as I playfully shove his shoulder.

"Your risk," I respond as I bite into my ice cream. I stop. Birthday Cake Ice Cream, also my favorite. Letting the bite melt in my mouth, I furrow my brow, confused.

"Link," I start, "You have my favorite flavors of tea and ice cream as well as some of my favorite movies. You must have been paying good attention lately."

He slows his arm mid swing to his mouth with a large bite of ice cream, setting the spoon back in the bowl, then placing the bowl in his lap, staring in front of him.

"I always pay attention to you, Zel." He says quietly. "Believe it or not, you are probably my only true best friend. I want you to know that I care about you."

"What about your roommate? He's not your best friend?"

"Nah," he responds, "he's cool, but he's also not you. I tell everything to you, Zel. Everything. Which is why this is difficult."

I glance at his face. He is still staring in front of him, at nothing. He seems nervous, but about what, I can't put my finger on.

"Link," I start, "what's diffi—" his look silences me like nothing else has ever done before. His eyes are swimming with emotion. What type of emotion, I'm not sure. But I'm anxious to find out, and have a feeling that this needs to be on his terms, not mine. He'll tell me if he wants to. He grabs my ice cream bowl from my hands and places it along with his on the coffee table. He then moves to grab my hands and wrap his strong ones around mine.

"Link," I whisper. He stares into my eyes.

"Zelda," he starts, "I mean it when I tell you everything. But I've been waiting to tell you this for a while," he takes a deep breath. "Malon and I split up."

I close my eyes and sigh. Mixed feelings came to my stomach. Both of sadness and joy—I liked Malon. She was spunky and outgoing. But I was jealous of her. She was spending a lot of time with Link, time that I could have spent with him doing things that we would actually enjoy doing together rather than just what she wanted to do. She was a bit selfish like that. She used to drag him everywhere—even by literally dragging him sometimes.

"Why?" I finally ask. Link shrugged.

"She said that I had to choose between you and her. That I have been spending too much time with you, and had to make the decision." He sighs. "We've been growing apart for a while now, and she's been becoming more emotionally detatched since she met Sheik. We both knew that we were drawing it out for a while, and never said anything. So we just, kind of, ended it." His eyebrows furrowed to the center of his forehead. I reached up and eased the tension from them. His face shouldn't be contorted like that. He looked at me about to continue—to apologize for keeping this from me, if I knew him.

"It's okay, Link," I said before he could apologize, squeezing his hands in reassurance. "When did it happen?"

"About two weeks ago." He responded. "I would have told you sooner, but I wanted to tell you when the time was right."

"Oh?" I ask playfully, trying to cheer him up from his somber mood. "What makes this the opportune moment, Mr. Suave?"

"I honestly don't know," he chuckles. "And I don't know why I didn't want to tell you sooner. Maybe it was to confirm what I already knew." His cheeks tinted the slightest red as he looked away.

"And what was that?" I ask, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his head to face me again. He closed his eyes. Then opening them again after a short pause and taking a deep breath, he smiled softly.

"That I love you."

I sat there and let those coveted words sink in to my suddenly sluggish mind. As I was processing them, a smile slowly spread over my face and I looked into his eyes, seeing the proof right there. I leaned forward and locked him in an embrace, feeling the muscles in his upper back tense as he responded, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I love you, too, Link," I whispered in his ear.

He turned his head to face me and slowly moved in. I melted as soon as our lips met. It was a light, gentle kiss, but it still sent my senses flying. He brought me closer to him to deepen the kiss, and I let him. I brought my hand up to run through his soft, shaggy hair. I couldn't believe this was finally happening. After months of pining after my best friend, I am finally kissing him!

Breaking apart after a time, we basked in the feeling that everything was now exposed. Every feeling we have had for each other finally out in the open. It feels refreshing, invigorating, enticing. Amazing.

He leaned back on the armrest and I followed suit, snuggling up against him as he wrapped his arm around me, soothingly rubbing circles into my back, smiling, and adjusting the blanket to cover both of us—the ice cream completely forgotten. He plants a kiss onto my forehead as consciousness begins to elude me.

"Sleep," he softly says, kissing my forehead again. "I'll wake you up for some soup in a while."

I comply, smiling, as he starts humming a song I've never heard before. It soothes me as I slowly drift into the unconscious world of dreams. I think about how if I never moved from the city I loved, I would have never met Link.

The last conscious thought that comes to my mind is this:

Maybe small towns aren't so bad after all.