Ahh, a grim second part to a grim story. Though it is kinda depressing, there is some Marth/Roy cuteness here. I admit that I feel bad for them, but that won't stop me from abusing them… Even though they're not mine.
Another pleasant morning was dawning above the ever-lively Melee House complex. The cheerful morning sunshine was streaming in through a lone, frosty window. The yellow square of light thrown upon the wall was slowly traveling downward. After several minutes, the light was cast upon one of the two beds in this dorm room and it framed the faces of the two boys sleeping in it.
Ever since Marth's unfortunate run-in with Tomoyuki, Roy was insistent that that the teens should sleep in bed together "for safety's sake." Safety wasn't Roy's only purpose, however. Often, Marth would be treated to a night of mind-numbing pleasure that helped him temporarily forget his physical and mental pains. When the prince awoke in the morning, though, he would always waken to the same living nightmare—the absence of his right hand.
Marth awoke with a smile on his face and his lover wrapped up in his arms. He felt Roy's soft hair tickling his chest, Roy's warm breath rolling over his bare skin. The Altean didn't move for several minutes; he wanted a few moments to himself this morning. After he'd blinked the sleep out of his eyes, Marth's glossy cerulean oculars studied the bedroom in silence. As always, the room was immaculate. Not an article of clothing was out of place; not a piece of paper was on the floor. The walls were hung with mirrors so that the vain Altean prince could admire himself, though he failed to use the pier glasses anymore. Little else decorated the walls except the teens' swords.
The elegant Falchion and the onerous Sword of Seals hung on the wall like guns on a rack. Their blades were glittering in the morning sun and casting shines on the ceiling and floor. Marth's lightweight sword was perfectly sharpened and finely polished though it had been sitting there for several days. As he looked at it, his heart ached. He knew that he could never use that beautiful sword properly ever again. He couldn't even hold it.
Roy was roused by the abrupt heave of Marth's chest. The towheaded swordsman quickly lifted his head, looking up to his dearest friend. Tears streaked Marth's porcelain cheeks; his eyes were red with tears. He was trying to hide his emotions behind his forearm, but it was impossible. "No, Marth," Roy crooned, "please don't cry." He slid up in bed and wrapped his arms around his lover's shoulders, cradling Marth's head against his warm body. "Please, I beg you not to cry. It's breaking my heart."
Marth bitterly sobbed, his tears staining Roy's bare skin. His strong arms, now somewhat weak from the lack of fighting, held his friend tightly. "I can't, I can't!" he whimpered. "It's just eating me alive. Things are never going to be the same anymore."
Roy softly sighed as he brushed the bangs from Marth's eyes and kissed his forehead. He couldn't begin to comprehend his friend's anguish, but he was experiencing his own pain. Marth wouldn't be so depressed if Roy hadn't been so careless.
Roy had made the same mistake twice. Now, both boys had to face the devastating consequences.
Short. Boring for those action fans out there. Though there won't be much "action" in this part, there will be some drama. None of that "Days of our Lives" shit, but you know what I mean. There's nothing review-worthy here, I know.