The thing about Waluigi and his eating habits is that he won't swallow anything, unless it's an eggplant or grape candy. I know I'm not really supposed to worry about Waluigi and his nutrition, but I can't help it. Lately, I've noticed, every time he goes out into public he either wants to sit on a park bench or go home. When he sees Mario and me, he just nods away from us.

He's supposed to make our lives miserable.

I decided I was going to make sure I was right about his eating habits – I can almost see his ribs. But walking up to his house was like suicide, even when his piranha plants started snapping at me. I didn't want to hurt his plants, but one of them might need stem surgery now.

At the door I stood there, staring at the chipping paint. Should I knock? I wondered, narrowing my eyes. Of course, how else do you go into someone's house? Well, Waluigi doesn't know that – he just busts on into my house – so, I decided to give him a taste of his medicine.

"Waluigi!" I called out, walking inside as if this was my house. "Waluigi, where are you?"

I got no reply. So Waluigi leaves his house unlocked when he's out and about? I'm surprised he hasn't been robbed yet.

Walking further into his house, I decided to go check out his kitchen. First turn on the right, I entered and it looked like the room was something you'd find in a haunted mansion. Clean, but old. I dug through his cabinets and fridge, and all I found was a bunch of eggplants and grape candy. Exactly what I thought he'd eat.

Exploring some more, I slid into his living room – ugh, purple makes me want to barf at this point – and I was surprised that he keeps this room looking like it came out of a magazine. Flat screen TV, all the latest Nintendo systems (was that a SNES I saw? Mine's about gone), looked nothing like the kitchen.

One of the cabinet doors to the TV throne was open, and some movies were peeking through at me. I walked over, going to fix it before I saw what they were. Ugh, Waluigi – the kind of guy who'd have... adult entertainment movies.

It didn't scare me until I realized, there's two guys on the cover of it.

Disturbed, I trotted out of the room quietly to go up the stairs – he's probably napping up here.

Looking down the hall at the landing, I saw that the house only had one bathroom and two bedrooms. I figured Waluigi used one for all of his junk collecting, but I literally jumped when I saw it was clean as could be, curtains closed.

The other bedroom – I saw upon entering that Waluigi surely was not here, so now I've broken into his house – was definitely being used. Waluigi didn't make the bed, and his dresser had clothes spewing from it. The closet was full of magazines (some similar to the "movie" I saw downstairs) and his desk was littered with papers.

Ah, I noticed, he had a journal. I picked it up and flipped through it, not caring about all the entries he'd first written. I flipped to the most recent one, realizing that Waluigi had pretty decent handwriting.

But not decent thoughts.

He had written about how he wished people would leave him alone now that a lot of his so called "friends" were gone, and how he planned on giving the rest of his food to the plants in the yard so he wouldn't be tempted to eat anything.

I stopped reading for a second to freeze. So Waluigi was going to starve to death?

Reading on, my inference was correct. Waluigi was going to starve himself, mainly because of reasons he could have fixed – people didn't like him, and he felt like crap all the time, I wouldn't show him any affection –

Wait, what was that last sentence?

Apparently, he's still in the closet, and he's had a crush on me for years now.

Well, I can see that he's hitting on Daisy to keep his cover.

I kept on reading, sitting down in the chair for temporary comfort. After mentioning me, he went off about how he wished he knew if I really was the same way he was or not. Following that was paragraph after paragraph about the ways he admired me – pff, talking about me like I was some girl he was in love with. I could tell his French side came through when he used poetic terms to describe my eyes and hair.

Well, those terms made me blush.

The passage ended with the words being somewhat sloppier and pressed harder onto the paper. He ended with a sentence that declared that he wished I'd love him – he was going to kill himself because he knew I'd never!

Talk about drama. I already feel bad for him starving to death. Should I look at him and ask if he wants me to be a little more than a friend to him?

Should I go ahead and offer to love him, in other words.

No, he'd probably be one for domestic violence, I tell myself, but I don't care! I feel bad for him, I don't want him to die, ugh, I wish I knew where he was so I could pull him to the side and talk to him –

Shit.

N-no, I don't have feelings for him.

But as I sit here, looking at the journal entry again, I can't help but disagree with myself. Waluigi didn't want a pity party, I figured that out.

I set his journal down and stand up, sighing. I decide I'm going to go find Waluigi and ask him a few questions. Act like I never knew about his journal.

I kept my eyes on the book though, mouth a thin line. Now I feel bad for reading his journal, damn it! I grimace, trying to turn around – but guilt makes my feet stay still.

This is why I hate guilt. It makes me stand here until I hear someone hurrying up the stairs, as if they were panicked.

Waluigi is home.

Slowly I turn around just as Waluigi comes into view of the doorway, and we both freeze. I put on my "shit, I'm busted" face, taking a step back. Waluigi looks at me, hands tightly grabbing the frame of the door.

"Um…" I start, "…hi?"

Waluigi just sighs. "Why are you in my house?"

"I – I was worried about you." I look away from his face to his body. His usually tight overalls are sagging on him; he's probably nothing but a skeleton and flesh now.

"Worried? Whatever." Waluigi growls, storming forward. "C'mon Eyeballs. In a tree you go."

Then, without any self control over myself, I hold my hand up. "You don't want to." I mutter.

Waluigi stops moving to look at me, "Whatever." He snarls again.

"You don't." Now I can't control myself. I have to speak. "You're just doing it because you feel like I always spit on you, always have and always will."

Waluigi's eyes widened, he stood up straighter and his mouth was a thin line.

I continue, thinking I'm making progress. "Look at you; you're starving yourself to death because you feel like not a single person in this kingdom cares. You're upset, love-lorn, tired, and most likely you're body wants you to eat something." I narrow my eyes back up at him, "I saw you getting skinnier, and that made me worry."

Waluigi snorts, "So you break into my house?"

"I originally was going to come and make sure you were eating OK." I swallow, ready for a punch to my face for what I say next. "But you weren't home. I invited myself inside, and looked around. Then I read your journal…"

He stops looking like he wants to kill me, and then he gave a look of embarrassment and worry.

"You… know your way to describe someone." I feel myself start to turn red. "So… I figured… you really wanted to, well, date me?"

Waluigi collapses onto the floor, but I catch his torso before it slams down. He's hyperventilating, clinging to me and I can feel tears soaking through the fabric of my shirt.

He's talking unintelligibly, but I can somewhat understand him, and I hug him until we're on his floor with me rocking him back and forth.

When he's calm, I force him to look at me. I turn my head just so, and pull him forward.

I want to kiss him and make him feel better.

I want him to know that – I too – have wished he'd be in love with me.