APOLOGIES FOR THE DISAPPEARANCE! I absolutely love this story and I promise I wont abandon it. I have no excuse for being gone for so long...this chapter was even written months ago! I'm sorry for those of you who look forward to my updates. I promise to work better to keep this updated. Thank you so much for waiting!

Peach shifted in her bed as she switched sides. With a hum of content, she nuzzled and brushed her nose into her large pink pillow as she took in the wonderful, floral scent. The comforting smell never failed to make her feel safe within her room.

The silky sheets brushed against her bare legs as she curled up, feeling a rush of cold air fill the room. She tried her best to conserve heat while she slept, pulling the blankets up even further. She groaned in content as her hot breath made contact with the goosebumps lining her chest.

Just as she managed to find a bit of warmth, a large beam of light crept through her window's blinds, resulting in a tiresome groan from the young woman. She attempted to shove her face further into her pillow to drown out the light, but couldn't find herself able to drift back to sleep.

The bright light, met with the cold air, left her restless. She groaned.

Though usually fond of the Mushroom Kingdom's weather, Peach sighed in defeat as she gently opened her eyes. Squinting at the light, she yawned. She wanted nothing more than to sleep just a bit longer, seeing as it was a Saturday, but that didn't seem to be an option.

Groggily, Peach sat up and pressed her back against the bed's frame, yawning and stretching as she regained her consciousness. With a satisfied hum, she slumped back down as she looked around the dimly-lit room.

With her torso out of the blankets, she wrapped her arms around her waist. Was winter coming already? It hadn't been this chilly yesterday. Why was she so cold?

She sighed as she looked around the silent room.

Though both Peach and her father were lower class, the Mushroom Kingdom made sure all of their housing districts were fitting for everyone. Due to their family's lack of money, their house was small, having only two bedrooms, but it was affordable and well-made; they had nothing to complain about.

Simplistic furniture sat around her room. A small, wooden table sat in the uppermost corner with a tiny chair beside it. Other than those two items, the only other things in her room were a tiny nightstand, her bed and a petite dresser.

It was a conservative room, much to Peach's liking: not too flashy, but just enough to feel content.

Peach gently let her legs hang off the bed as they touched the wooden floor. She cringed at how cold it was when compared to her cozy bed, but forced all of her weight on the surface if it meant getting rid of the nipping cold.

Her eyes lingered to the open window as she sighed.

She dragged her feet along the polished floor as she headed for the large window. With one swift movement, she closed it entirely, hoping it would drain out the cold eventually. She quickly pulled down the blinds, too.

The bright light was now fighting through the blinds and speckling across the room. The room was now dim and, hopefully, would warm up soon.

For a moment, she wondered how the window had even been opened in the first place. But, a rush of fatigue quickly covered that question. It didn't matter, anyways! It was surely her father.

Peach sighed in relief as she yawned once more. Maybe she could sneak in a few more minutes? She gazed over her shoulder at the messy bed and how it seemed to beckon her to come back to its tempting embrace.

However, any trace of drowsiness left Peach as her body froze, but not from the cold.

"Already?" She muttered under her breath. She gently scratched the side of her head as she tried to evaluate the situation. While shocked, a clear amount of satisfaction lined her face as she attempted to hold back a grin. "How eager of him," she teased softly.

Was he really so unaware of how easy to read he was?

Peach quickly took a few steps towards her nightstand as her eyes remained glued to what left her so curious:

A letter.

He was early. Several weeks early, in fact. He had even left a letter for her last week! He wasn't scheduled to write to her again until the beginning of next month! She puckered her lips curiously as she distinctly remembered his recent visit. Once a month had always been their timing! Why was he suddenly dropping by quicker?

Yet, here she was, eyeing the familiar note.

Reaching her nightstand, Peach gently picked up the new letter with noticeable care. Holding it to her face, she examined the envelope.

The usual, menacing wax stamp rested in its center, though, as always, she was unable to determine its origin. Beneath the stamp, in the oddly-fancy writing she had become accustomed to, was her name. She ran her finger over the words and traced the letters, realizing his hands had been there not too long ago.

What had he been thinking while writing her name?

Peach's blood froze as she snatched her free hand away from the inked words. What was she doing? She was far too curious to a point that it was making her act like a fool!

She shook her head vigorously as she ripped open the envelope a bit more roughly than she had meant to, nearly tearing through her name entirely. She frowned at the ruined penmanship, pulling the note out of the envelope with far more caution.

She scanned the letter in complete silence, trying to imagine his voice saying the words.

I apologize if this is unexpected, which it probably is, but I needed to talk to you again. Our schedule was far too limiting. So, it's changed. I'll be writing you as much as I can from now on.

Peach held her breath as her grip on the paper slightly grew in intensity. Though caught off guard at his open want to speak to her, she couldn't help but giggle at the amount of authority in his writing. Clearly, she didn't have a say in the matter, but she would have been fine with it either way.

I know I've recently checked in, but I hope everything is well. It's hard for me to keep up to date with your 'busy' life.

Peach groaned at his clear sarcasm, knowing he had great fun in teasing her about her lifestyle, which seemed to contrast with his own. She could practically read the eye roll in his writing! Sure, she lived a calm life! So what?

For a secret admirer, he seemed to know a lot about her, however.

While she knew next to nothing about her admirer's life, on the other hand, it was clearly far more exciting than her own. When she would ask how he is, he would nearly always bring up how stressed he was with his career, whatever that may be. He would write about the pressure of his position and how draining, but fulfilling it was for his children.

Of course, he would always slip in that writing to her made it all easier, well aware of what he was doing. Slipping in casual, flirtatious remarks seemed to be the usual with him. Without showing himself, it seemed easy to be so bold without any repercussions.

He was nothing more than a schoolboy slipping notes into a girl's locker and running away before he was caught.

It was corny, but it never failed to make her laugh. He seemed well aware of how tacky he was towards her, but that seemed to be part of his self-proclaimed charm, whether she saw it or not. Either way, she quickly grew fond of the odd admiration.

Opposite to his own, Peach's life was rarely out of line. Every morning, she would wake up at dawn for her cup of tea with her father, walk with him to work, and head off on her daily stroll down the main streets to stop by the local library for her casual work; Everything was simplistic and on schedule. There was nothing that ever called for her life to change.

Yet, his sudden appearance brought some unknown into her life. Maybe that's why she looked forward to their monthly letters? Well, apparently they'd be even more often from now on. Why did that thought make her mind buzz?

Peach fell back on her small bed with a gentle squeak of the wooden frame. She held the formal note above her head as she continued reading the cursive writing.

A paragraph rambled of how wonderful she had looked in her pink gown the week he had delivered her last letter, and how he had to hold himself back from approaching her. How he wanted nothing more than to establish eye contact with her. Though used to such compliments from her admirer, she couldn't help but feel a slight amount of flustered emotions crowd her chest.

Her eyes lingered to her closet. She would definitely be wearing that dress more often.

I hope you didn't notice my eyes all over you for those few minutes. The writing continued in a slightly-messy, rushed manner. But, I don't really care if you did.

She rolled her eyes in amusement at the clear concern of her noticing him. Of course he cared.

I'm sorry if me drooling over you upsets you. It's not my fault, you know. I'm attracted to perfection, after all.

Peach nearly dropped the letter on her face as she read the following line. She knew what was coming, but it still made her blood pressure increase. He was flirtatious, sure, but this direct? This was a first. Since when was this angry, flustered admirer so...clear about his intentions without backing out a few words later?

And you, Peach Toadstool, happen to fit that criteria to the dot.

A bittersweet emotion ran through Peach's chest. The idea of being viewed as perfect was absurd to her, but happily welcomed, especially from such a mysterious man.

But the idea of being perfect is what made her doubt him.

He had never spoken to her! Was the perfection he saw through her looks, if only that? She knew he had seen her, at the least. Sure, they were penpals, but how much of a person could you know by writing them now and then?

They had never even spoken! Well, she assumed not.

There were so many...things she didn't know about this man! HIs favorite color, his job, his hobbies! So much she didn't know!

In that moment, Peach felt like a piece of meat. Why had she even subconsciously thought otherwise of the man? At this point, such a wonderful compliment made Peach feel heavy.

She was nothing more than an objectively pretty face with good penmanship, if that.

The butterflies Peach had felt moments earlier fell to stones as she sighed. She knew he hadn't meant it that way, even though that was surely how he felt without realizing. She sighed as she knew she was overthinking his kind words.

Peach puffed her cheeks as she forced herself to continue.

I'm sure that was too forward. My bad. But, I don't take any of it back! Trust me, I couldn't if I wanted to.

The following paragraph asked of how her day was, as he had in the beginning, and asked several questions such as her favorite foods, colors, and other odd subjects. He was clearly eager to have a long response from Peach, whether she liked it or not.

She sighed.

Grabbing a small pen, Peach knew she had to reply, either way. His words were clearly intended to be positive, so he deserved a reply. Ignoring his message would be quite rude! Besides, it wasn't as if this was the first time he had upset her.

With a small yawn, Peach sat at her table as she squinted at the blank paper set out before her.

Where would she start?