A/N: Trigger warnings for this chapter include one instance of accidental misgendering, some internalized queerphobia, mentions of romance and basically Peatrice being Peatrice.

There are also some things that could possibly be seen as romantic, but were not intended as such. I'm aroace, and I'm writing a squish with esthetic and sensual attraction just the way I experience it, and I won't be holding back just because it might sound like something you've only ever thought of in a romantic context. Squishes can be similar to crushes in many ways, but they're different in a way that's difficult to describe, you won't know what it really feels like unless you've had one, so please just take my word for it here.7

There was a strange sort of tension in the air as Ghirahim met Peatrice's gaze. Link was about to say something to break it, but the item check girl beats him to it.

"W-Who is that," Peatrice breathes. "Who's she?"

She? The pronoun feels like a knife through Link's gut, even though it's not directed at him. Surely Peatrice can't possibly be referring to Ghirahim, can she? But she's looking right at him.

Ghirahim, for his (his!) part, doesn't appear to be offended, just shocked. "W-What?" His voice is soft and a little shaky, but still obviously masculine sounding.

Peatrice, thank Hylia, immediately realizes the mistake she made and is completely mortified. "O-Oh…" She turns bright red and slams her face into her hands.

Link takes a few deep breaths. He can tell Peatrice didn't mean it. She wasn't trying to be rude. So, why was Link so angry on his companion's behalf? Ghirahim wasn't even angry, just extremely confused by the looks of it. He should just focus on the reason they came. Yeah, that would definitely be best.

"This is Ghirahim," the Skyloftian begins softly. "He is my friend from the Surface. He got hurt pretty badly, so he'll be staying here on Skyloft for a while."

"Oh?" The item check girl can't look either boy in the eyes anymore. "That's… good to know—sorry, I-I guess the people on the Surface are… um, different?"

Link can feel his jaw tightening slightly, but he decides to ignore Peatrice's little muttered comment for now, and just get down to business. The sooner he got what they'd come for, the sooner this painfully awkward and irritating interaction would be over. "I know that item check is technically closed, but I need a healing potion. It's kind of an emergency."

"Right, sure sure." And Peatrice begins promptly rummaging through her stock for what the hero asked for. "Here, take an uh… infused one. Should be stronger, a-and uh… sorry. Gonna head home now; Dad's probably wondering where I am, h-heh."

Link takes the potion quickly. "That's great, thanks Peatrice."

"Oh, a-and uh, Ghirahim was it?" Said boy's gaze moves to lock with Peatrice's, who falters even more with the eye contact. "You be careful with Link here, he's a real heartbreaker," she blurts.

"What," Ghirahim says again.

He says it in such a flat, deadpan manner that Link has to hold back a sudden wave of laughter.

Peatrice, seeing that her joke didn't land (at least that's why Link thinks she said that, but you really can't tell with Peatrice) decides the best course of action is to tap out of the situation entirely, and she scrambles out of the booth towards her home. Link decides she has the right idea and grabs the potion they'd come for before doing the same, a very confused demon in toe.

"What just happened?"

Link doesn't answer Ghirahim's question right away; he's too busy wondering the same thing. He feels grateful that he had healed up considerably from yesterday's battles; otherwise he fears he might drop dead from second-hand embarrassment, right here, right now. There's still a decent amount of frustration lingering in the back of his mind as well, but the hero forces himself not to focus on it.

"Don't worry about it," the skyloftian replies. "Peatrice is, well, she's… a bit… odd." He settles on. "It's best to just get what you came for and leave when dealing with her."

"Do I look like a girl to you?" The sudden question surprised both boys. Ghirahim's gaze locks onto his white-clad feet. Even though Link knows him better than he used to, it's still more than a little strange to see the demon looking so self-conscious. "I know I don't exactly present myself as very… stereotypically masculine, but I never considered people might assume…" He trails off.

Link fiddles with the potion bottle in his hands, having forgotten to put it in his pouch because of the pure awkwardness of this situation. Truthfully, this wasn't really something he'd thought about all that in depth before. He had much bigger things to focus on than Ghirahim's appearance, after all. But at the same time, he could kind of understand where Ghirahim was coming from.

Link wasn't exactly the most masculine guy out there, either. His lack of manliness was one of Groose's favorite things to tease him about, especially when they were younger. But that particular thing never bothered him all that much, since he had plenty of friends and mentor figures in his life who liked him just as he was.

But Ghirahim never had that, did he? Link realized. He's probably never had anything resembling a real friend before.

What must it have been like, being alone for such an incomprehensibly long time? Link couldn't begin to comprehend such a bleak, lonely existence. He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but it was actually beginning to make sense why the demon had been so desperate to revive his master; Demise was all Ghirahim had. Even though Link was pretty sure the demon king had been far from the supportive sort, to say the least.

Link had always gotten the impression that Ghirahim was completely secure and confident in the way he presented himself. But as he was finding out, not everything he thought about the demon was true. So he did his best to push away the awkwardness and said, in the most sure tone he could muster: "You Look fine, Ghirahim."

The demon looked unconvinced.

"I mean, uh… you could pass for either."

Link felt his cheeks begin to grow slightly warm. Now that he let himself think about what Ghirahim looked like, the floodgates were opening wide, and the hero was bombarded with things he'd noticed before, but didn't acknowledge until now. Namely:

He's pretty. The thought comes, unbidden, and Link's face is set ablaze. No, this was wrong. He shouldn't be thinking that. To call a boy pretty, even in his head, especially when he was a boy himself—it was weird, wasn't it? Weird, and maybe even wrong.

"What did she mean, when she said you were a heartbreaker?"

Link let out a long, frustrated sigh through his nose, but at least his blush was clearing up from his annoyance. "It's complicated." He briefly explained to his companion what had happened between himself and Peatrice.

"Seriously?" Link felt a massive spike of relief when he saw Ghirahim's incredulous expression after he'd finished his explanation of the ordeal. "You barely even knew her!"

"I know!" It comes out slightly louder than Link meant it to. Truthfully, he'd been a little worried that Ghirahim may not see the situation the same way he did, maybe even scold him for being insensitive to Peatrice's feelings. He was pleasantly surprised to find neither of those things to be the case.

"It's hardly your fault that you did not reciprocate her feelings; she shouldn't be constantly throwing it in your face like that. Especially not in front of those unfamiliar with the situation." Ghirahim gestures wildly as he speaks, wincing when he waves his injured hand a little too hard.

"For what it's worth," he continues, "I did not believe her for a moment when she said that. You are definitely not the heartbreaker type."

"…Thanks."