After a week, Branch realized Poppy used the bathroom as her sanctuary. Usually, during the morning, she'd wake up after a poor night of sleep and lock herself up and allow the shower to wash away her tears.

He didn't know if she was aware that he heard her crying, but he never confronted her about it. He gave her time and kept cooking her favorite dishes so she would flash him that adorable smile that made him melt.

As he decorated the fruits around the plate for her, Branch recalled the small progress they had made the previous night.

He sat on his armchair with a book about wiring systems open on his lap when Poppy walked in, looking cozy with her fluffy pajamas. She smiled at him so tenderly he forgot they had been apart eight years. It seemed like just a normal day, when they were still building up Trollstopia and returned to his bunker to enjoy each other's company after the work was done.

Without a word, Poppy sat on the floor between his legs and opened a book of her own.

"What is your book about?" He asked when he recovered from the shock her casual closeness caused.

"It's about our kingdom. The usual royalty stuff you despise." Poppy answered with a little humor in her voice.

"What's the subject?"

"Law, dynasties… yadda yadda…" Branch playfully gagged, making Poppy giggle.

Then, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, she turned her head and placed a kiss inside his pajama-covered thigh before returning her attention to the book.

"I warned you."

Branch almost chopped his finger, lost in the previous night's events. The spot she had kissed had tingled with the soft reminder of her lips all night. Actually, he could still revive the feeling first thing in the morning.

Poppy walked inside the kitchen with damp hair and a delicious smell of soap. She smiled brightly like she wasn't crying her eyes out a few minutes before. The towel was covering her shoulders, to protect her clothes from getting wet.

"I love melons!" She said, sitting down and grabbing a small square.

"I know." Branch replied, pushing the full plate in her direction. "They are all yours."

He watched her as she ate. Branch only had coffee in the morning, but he didn't mind cooking for her because Poppy looked radiant when she tasted the fruits. She closed her eyes and internally squealed at the taste. It was so hypnotic that Branch didn't realize he had moved to a chair next to her so he could dig his hands in her hair.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, questioningly. The lovesick face he was giving her was enough to cause withdrawal. Poppy didn't forget they were being watched, though, so she smartly poked his ribs, causing him to jump out of his spell.

"Hey," he protested, but Poppy stopped chewing to look at him with a teasing gleam in her eyes. "No!" Branch warned, rising from the chair, barely containing the anticipated laughter.

Poppy reached out her hair without a second thought and firmly held his arms and legs down, attacking his ribs with unmerciful tickles.

His laughter was music to her ears. It was a moment they weren't pretending; they were truly having fun with each other.

Sneaking her hands under his leaf vest, Poppy remembered where he was most sensitive to tickles. He squirmed underneath her, warning that there would be payback.

Indeed, when he was nearly running out of breath, he managed to block her with his hair, trading their positions. The cold kitchen floor went unnoticed on her back, but her front was extremely aware that Branch had pinned her down, having his heavy body crushing her so she wouldn't escape.

His weight felt deliciously right during the small hiatus when they stared at each other, understanding the unmentioned iron-strong trust that firmly guided them.

She burst in giggles when he poked her sides. She writhed in laughter, squirming underneath him to pointlessly try to break free.

Poppy was about to beg him to stop, she couldn't take anymore. She opened her mouth to voice her wishes when his lips came down covering hers in a spontaneous kiss.

She gave in instantly, being sucked into a timeless dream where they had just confessed their love and were still trying out the first steps of a relationship. Nothing bad had happened. There were no years, no distance and not one inch of negative events to pull them apart.

Branch ran his hands from her sides to meet her palms and instinctively intertwined their fingers.

He felt their golden bands during the strong grip and was overcome by pride. He had married her. Poppy was his wife. It felt real. The way she moved underneath him was real, the way his body responded was real.

Branch left her lips to taste her neck. The soft skin got his attention and she turned her head to give him more access. In the heat of the moment, he just couldn't keep his feelings to himself so he whispered in her ear.

"I never stopped loving you."

Poppy stiffened and Branch realized he had said the wrong thing at the wrong time. He reminded her of what had separated them.

Swallowing down, Poppy pressed a hand on his chest, wordlessly asking him to get off her. Puffy lips, glassy eyes and weak knees. The pink girl managed to stand up and adjust her clothes.

"I'm going out today." She tried to sound normal, but the effort was evident. "I'm going to get reacquainted with my old friends."

"Should I expect you for dinner?" Branch asked, still on the floor.

"I don't think you should."

On an ordinary day, Branch had a list of royal duties to go through. Years ago, when he saw Poppy mixing in the crowd, participating in parties and getting to know everyone who arrived he didn't know the reason behind it. He just thought she was very extroverted.

When he became Prince Regent against his will he learned, the hard way, that knowing the citizens was a valid method to keep everyone under control. Poppy knew everyone's weakness and their strong points; she knew who would most likely cause trouble and who could calm the spirits. In a party, she would get them together to even out the atmosphere. Branch never really knew if she did it purely on instinct.

To him, the necessity to keep control of the population became a big problem right in the first months when they were still rebuilding. Country trolls claimed they did all the hard work while Classical Trolls engaged less. Hard Rockers got bored easily and stopped constructing to start jam sections.

Branch liked the cultural exchange, but he needed to step back and analyze the situation the best he knew: through statistics and surveillance. Eventually he got so good at it that he could point out when a quarrel was about to start and he sent a group of Fuzzlings to break the troublemakers apart before a fight even started.

He was really proud of what he had accomplished. Trollstopia was back in one piece and it was safer than ever. It was clean and perfect, like the heavenly oasis Poppy had envisioned. In the end, he had done it all for her.

A yellow troll walked into the trapdoor perimeter and his alarm beeped. Catching the sight of Smidge, Branch already knew he was going to have an earful from the small angry girl.

The trapdoor was unlocked so Poppy wouldn't have trouble getting inside, but it made it easier for Smidge to barge in and go straight to him, already knowing he was working, as usual.

"I've come to clear things up," she stepped inside already frowning and Branch quickly put a finger over his lips. It infuriated her. "I won't shush!"

Rolling his eyes in frustration, Branch quickly found pen and paper, confusing and enraging Smidge even more. He lifted the paper and finally the yellow troll's attitude softened up in understanding, "the bunker is wired," she read in silence.

"But first, what about an ice cream?!" She emended and Branch half smiled.

"Great idea."

The safest place Branch thought to have the conversation with Smidge, away from his probably hacked surveillance system and the wires - supposedly only installed inside the bunker - was inside a small portion of the forest that remained inside the city grounds, completely controlled and predator-free.

"Okay, what is going on?" Smidge tapped her foot impatiently when they reached a spot they could talk.

"Poppy and I are being watched to make sure our marriage is 'for real'" He quoted with his fingers. It seemed an exaggerated measure to Smidge, but she made a mental note that Branch was paranoid enough to have Trollstopia monitored. "It wasn't my idea, don't look at me like that! It's in the terms her father left."

"King Peppy wanted Poppy to be watched?" Skeptically, Smidge looked at Branch as if he was making things up.

"No, I think he wanted to make it hard for Poppy to quit being Queen." After all, he added mentally, all she needed to do was to announce she was taking her rightful place as their leader and things would go back to normal.

It was odd being free to talk. Being constantly watched made him choose the words carefully, to keep an emotional distance from what he wanted to do. The spontaneity of his actions was cut out. Knowing nothing was registered felt like he would fill his lungs with true air. He could be less careful with his suspicions.

"Creek is the one who decided to wire us."

"Creek?"

"Don't ask, I don't understand why they chose him to validate our marriage." Long minutes passed and Smidge's usually angry attitude became more and more puzzled.

"It makes no sense. Creek despises you. It would be torture watching you and Poppy together all day." She said more to herself and Branch couldn't agree more. The Guru had been close to Poppy until Chef crashed their party. The survivalist took the place he used to have at Poppy's side. It never settled down between them and the rivalry was just one more ingredient in their explosive cake. "Well… his reasons are his own." Brushing the subject aside, she forced an angry look once more, "But I'm here to tell you to take care of Poppy."

"Is that why you stormed in?" Raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms, Branch went on defensive mode.

"I won't forgive you for what you've done," with one finger raised in front of his nose, dangerously waving from one side to another, Smidge brushed over a very tender subject. "If you're the cause of a single tear, I swear…"

"Would you ever give me the benefit of the doubt?" Branch spat, getting frustrated that the subject was rubbed on his face for the second time in less than a week and he still didn't manage to be able to defend himself properly.

"I saw what I saw," She growled lowly, like a dog that was warning before jumping to bite.

"What you saw was me playing right into Creek's trick." Branch smoothed his hair. His head was hurting and he didn't want to defend himself anymore. To the Hair if he was going to sound like he was paranoid, if he was putting the blame on someone else to spare himself. "I don't know how to prove it, but Creek was trying to break Poppy and I apart that day and it worked."

He didn't wait for an answer. Too frustrated to stay outside, Branch turned on his heels and marched out of the forest. Fudge that Creek. If he wasn't in the Truth or Dare game that night Poppy wouldn't have left. Hair, probably Trollstopia would still be in one piece as well.

He had just stepped into the monitored area again when he felt a small pebble hitting him on the back. With little will to fight, he merely turned his head to see Smidge looking sternly at him.

"That is something I can believe." She said, "But my threat stands. Make Poppy cry and it will be your funeral."

When Poppy returned that night Branch was already asleep in his improvised bed on the floor.

She stumbled over the covers and made her way to the bed. The dress dropped on the floor and she drunkenly sunk under the blankets, not sparing decency a second thought.

Branch laid awake, watching the whole ordeal in silence. He hadn't seen Poppy drinking before and the way she snuck back home worried him.

A soft snore indicated she quickly fell asleep.

His bed on the floor was good enough until that point. Somehow, after seeing Poppy struggling out of her clothes the hardness of the floor became more evident underneath the sleeping bag.

The clock indicated it was past midnight and, from memory, he recalled she rarely stayed up that late before.

The bed sheets moved and Branch peeked up. She had turned to the other side and her back was exposed to him. The small line of her bra was the only proof she wasn't fully nude.

He was plain uncomfortable and considered moving to the couch, but he reminded himself that if he left the room like that it would be seen.

A soft sob and another turn. Branch noticed Poppy had her head turned to his direction. Her face was pure sadness and even her wild untamable hair was withered like a dying flower.

His body jolted twice to go to her, but her lack of decent clothes stopped him.

"Liar…" She breathed in her sleep and a strong wave of sobs made Branch wonder if she was awake.

Finally, he pocketed the good sense and slipped under the blankets with her. Poppy was asleep, it was the kind of troubled sleep he had in his isolation years. She started touching around, looking for someone to cuddle like she had felt the mattress sinking next to her.

It broke his heart that it wasn't him she was looking for, but Branch held her anyway, placing a soft kiss on her hair and whispering soothing words that slowly made her calm down.

She smiled and draped her arm over his ribs in a loose hug.

When Poppy woke up and saw Branch holding her the first thought was to push him away, but asleep, he looked so comfortable, so happy, that she didn't have the heart to disturb him.

His aquamarine skin looked paler, too. It was like he hadn't seen sunlight in a decade… or eight years.

The corner of his mouth was twitched up in a carefree smile. His dark blue hair was tangled with hers in what seemed a hair-hug.

Poppy had been so self-absorbed in her own problems she never asked how he had been while she was away. He was busy ruling in his own strict and paranoid way, but she never asked if he was happy.

He had waited for her. It was clear from the moment she walked through the gates. Why he would do that was a mystery.

Branch hadn't gone after her when she ran away. He had stated she had burned the city and for all she knew he resented her for it.

She thought everyone blamed her -hair, she blamed herself - but it was proven the opposite each passing day.

Her people had been worried sick about her all those years and they prayed she'd get well and return soon.

"So much miscommunication…" Poppy whispered to herself.

Her voice made Branch stir. She bit her lower lip as she admired a few seconds of disorientation on his part. His baby blue eyes widened in shock when he realized they were cuddling.

"I like waking up by your side." Poppy said before a giant wave of excuses pushed him out of the bed.

He relaxed a little, but was still nervous at her undressed state.

Forcing himself to practice his observation skills on something else, he ran his eyes over her face, noticing every small change the absent years had given her.

A small scar on the side of her head caught his attention and curiously, he ran his finger over it, trailing its shape.

He had seen that wound open. The night she ran away Branch saw Poppy bleeding there. A quick inspection among the smoke and running trolls made him ignore it, since it wasn't anything that would require medical attention and he needed to be fast to save as many friends as possible.

He had never asked how she had gotten hurt.

"I don't remember.' Poppy answered, as if reading his mind. "I don't remember much about that night."

"You're afraid to stay because you think you could have another episode like that one." It wasn't a question. "But you can't even remember it."

"You think I did it."

"Evidence speaks strongly against you." Branch pursed his lips. He expected Poppy to look hurt, but instead, she stared back as if he had stated the obvious.

Her eyes scanned him like one of his devices. It might have been an hour or a blink of an eye, but it seemed endless the way she slowly noticed how his hair was a little more tamed than before. Branch had gotten in the habit of brushing his hair before bed, so even when he woke up next morning, it wasn't as tangled as it used to be. Quietly, Branch allowed her to explore. He had the same necessity to touch her as well, but he allowed her to take her turn.

Her own face softened and she reached out to cup his face with her hand. There was a need to feel him properly. To recognize the temperature of his skin, the texture of his frown lines that seemed to grow deeper than ever.

The sweet troll that was slowly learning the magic of sociability had matured, compared with her last memories of him. He had a stern vibe that was present since she arrived. It wasn't like the old bunker days when he tried to convince people his point of view. He had a fierce attitude, but he only watched and interfered when necessary, like an experienced chess player that allowed his opponent to make all the wrong moves before surprising him on a check mate.

Poppy couldn't phantom where they would be in their relationship if she had stayed. And he looked handsome.

Giving into the sweet memories that still colored her darkest days, the pink girl leaned forward, surprising him with a light brush of lips. He held his breath when the hand that had been tracing his jaw climbed up to caress his sensitive ears. Branch couldn't tell if it was instinct or if she still remembered what made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, but her touch was just like the ones from before, when she worked her magic to make him relax and sleep.

A whisper on the back of his head reminded him that they weren't being watched in their room, so she had started the kiss because she wanted to. With his confidence growing with the thought, Branch responded, nibbling her lips until she opened her mouth to invite him in.

Her skin was burning when he touched her. Her petite waist felt like it was made to fit his hands. He felt goosebumps rising when he trailed his hand up her spine, a little halfway on top of her.

Poppy opened her mouth and his instinctively reaction was to dive his tongue past her lips to finally taste her fully. If only they could go back eight years…

"Well, don't mind me, I'm just here for an inspection." Creek's voice made the couple break apart in shock. Branch almost fell out of the bed and Poppy quickly pulled the covers up to hide her underwear.

"What the HAIR!" Branch yelled, but Creek quickly raised his hands.

"Not my fault, mate. The trapdoor was open." The Guru turned around. "But since I realize my mistake, I'll be waiting in the lounge room."

Poppy winced at his side and Branch fought the urge to growl. She had been drunk last night; she probably left the door open. Hair knew how many predators could have gotten inside.

"I need a shower." Poppy stood up, - not minding, or simply enjoying displaying herself to Branch - he couldn't say from her small smile, but he did get an eyeful of her curves and almost forgot his rival was just in the next room.

She hypnotized him with her swaying hips until the bathroom 's door closed and the rusty sound of the faucet being opened made Branch be able to push his male instincts aside to concentrate on the matters at hand.

"Ah, finally." Creek was sitting on his armchair, fully aware that it irritated Branch. "Since you're here, we can get started."

Branch wasn't expecting a real interview. Creek had a notebook and tapped a pen on it every time he finished writing something down.

"A week of marriage. How are you feeling so far?" Being caught out of guard, Branch didn't recall any loving moments as it was expected. He just crossed his arms and answered shortly.

"Fine."

"Well, I will proceed to aura reading to make sure your answer is accurate." Creek explained, taking even more notes before setting the items aside. "Please, sit and take three deep breaths."

Branch held the urge to reply he wasn't going to cooperate easily, but when he licked his lips to start speaking, he felt Poppy's taste.

He was doing it for her. They had to play along. There wasn't an alternative so far.

Creek had a small enlightened smile that gave him a superiority vibe. He was enjoying having the final decision in his hands, Branch just knew it. The survivalist did what he was told, but he didn't relax at all. His back was hurting from tension and his jaw was as hard as a piece of wood.

"So much resistance…" Creek said in a low voice, meaning for Branch to hear him out. Humming a mantra, they were in complete silence for a few seconds. "Ha! As I suspected…"

With his skepticism in place, Branch crossed his arms grumpily like he always did.

"You're swimming in guilt." Creek took his notebook and wrote down some more. Branch noticed that, even if he did his best to look nonchalant, the guru had found some truth he didn't want to admit. "I'm not saying you don't love your wife, mate, but guilt is stronger than love at the moment."

"That's speculation," was everything Branch managed to say, still taken aback by Creek's precision.

"It could be… or you could hear me out and fix your marriage before it goes to a premature ending."

"You're not here to help and we both know it."

"Look, Branch," Creek pinched the bridge of his nose with little patience. "I can report this to Hal and stop your royal privileges, but believe it, I do want the best for Trollstopia and, from what we can see, the best is to have our Queen back."

That was a line Branch couldn't disagree with. From the time Poppy crossed the gates the trolls seemed to be relieved. Still suspicious and following recommendations to give Poppy time to adjust, it was widely known that the parties had multiplied. They were all rejoicing at their queen's return, even if she was hesitant.

"Now… we want our old Poppy back, mate, but if you are together for the wrong reasons you will only hurt her further." Creek seemed to make sense, in a sudden bizarre turn, Branch felt like he was the bad guy. "This is why I'm telling you; guilt cannot be the strongest feeling in his relationship."

"I love her." Branch said firmly, closing his fists over the arms of the chair. "I never stopped loving Poppy one day."

"Good, mate, good." Creek took more notes, "You'll need that strength to make her forget her deceased husband."

Like he was struck by lightning, the bunker, Creek, the armchair, the walls… everything seemed to fade into a blur. A lump clotted in his throat as Branch's thoughts swirled like a vortex. It didn't seem possible that Poppy was widowed. It meant she didn't get divorced, or that her husband was a disappointment and they chose to be apart.

It meant Poppy didn't have a choice. She would still be together with her husband if destiny hadn't played its card. It meant Poppy's heart was still taken. Her husband could have been a wonderful guy who treated her right and gave her everything she wanted.

A living troll could never compete with the dead.