ϟleep tomorrow but tonight go crazy ❤

Rubbing your face awake, you gradually become aware of your surroundings. Not long after, a group of turtle like beings enter your room, followed by another one dressed in a cloak and their much taller leader.

Piercing red eyes that shoot daggers at you, framed by thick brows and horns; a spiked shell and claws that could rip easily through flesh. All reasons to feel threatened yet fear is nowhere to be felt within you, only a feeling akin to curiosity.

After the usual interrogation he gives to intruders, which you couldn't answer fully due to memory loss, the King of the lands you stumbled upon turns to leave without saying a word; leaving the subordinates by his side confused as to why the usual imprisonment order was never uttered.

You begin wondering what his plans for you might be when his deep voice pulls you back. “I’ll send you a change of clothes before dinner.”

The King of the Koopas, whom you learned goes by the name Bowser lent you his painting set with which you captured the beauty of the cascade of lava as seen from center of the castle. He reasoned that you would most likely need a way to not get bored during your stay at the Castle while your memories of where you come from came back to you.

Most recently he got you a few companions he couldn't quite name and neither could you but that didn't erase the fact that they were cute, somewhat resembling Bowser because of the spikes on their shells and their turtle-like physique; their combined purrs when you pet them on your lap help you get a better rest at night.

Days pass and you begin to question what could happen if you didn't regain your memories back.

Weeks pass and you no longer question the morality in pretending your memory never came back.

However that’s not the only matter on your mind. More often than before, as you stare at the volcanic rock ceiling late at night, you wonder if you should cross the threshold that separates you and a certain Koopa.

“Why do you insist on kidnapping her? Was one kidnapped person not enough?” You say in jest as you pinch a piece of fruit in your plate with your fork, careful to not let the honey drizzled on it drip on your fluffy robe.

“I want to convince Peach to give me another chance,” he takes a break to finish chewing. “And I didn't kidnap you, you came to me and I let you stay here.”

“Oh, is she an ex girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Were you married?”

“Not quite.”

Your knife cuts through the fruit on your plate, slicing a wedge and you stab it with the blade to hold it out for him to take, “I’m not following. What type of relationship was it?” Soon after an abridged retelling of the events you can pinpoint the answer.

An infatuation.

Why was he feeling nervous about telling you about it, that was beyond him. Why should he care about what you think of him is also beyond him, but the nods you make and the way your face shifts a while you listen intently have him feeling flustered? Has he ever felt like this before?

As you stir your tea, the glint in your eyes and the soft smile on your face when you eye the piranha plants he gifted you a few days ago make his heart skip a beat. “I believe you should be with those who love you and if she already expressed her rejection towards you, then you shouldn't knock on that door anymore.”

After that day onwards, upon hearing the word ‘peach’ Bowser thinks less of the Mushroom Kingdom’s Princess and reminisce more about the fruit you sliced and shared with him that morning.

Wandering around the grey stone halls, you end up in an area of the Castle where music can be heard even through the walls, inviting you to open the door to the room the music comes from.

You can't tell what's more impressing: the wall of lava that lights up the room or the one koopa that skillfully plays the piano sitting on top of a floating rock at the end of a suspending staircase.

“I didn't know you played the piano.” At the sound of your voice, his concentration falters making him hit the wrong note but he doesn't seem upset by your intrusion. “It helps me clear my mind off things.”

By the time you reach the last suspending stone step, Bowser scoots over to make room for you to sit with him.

The keys are not in the state you expected to see them in. They might be well worn but for such menacing sharp claws that play them with ease, the scratches haven't ruined them.

“Can I touch them?”

When your fingers don't hover over the pizno tiles, the King of the Koopas follows your line of sight to the scales on his shoulder, feeling a sense of smugness within him, “Of course.”

Your fingers move with a cautious touch —not from fear rather being mindful of not hurting him with your nails— on his body, tracing the pattern on his scales with your fingertips, admiring how the green color fades into yellow and how snug the bracelet sits on his arms when he subtly flexes it.

Your face is close to his and Bowser wonders if you would be okay if he closed the gap between you. Your hand lowers to the bicep below where the spiked bracelet sits, your fingers itching closer where you have been wanting to squeeze since—

“Sire.”

You break apart like water dropped on hot oil. You don't see the stema coming out of his nostrils nor the angered, hundred dagger look he sends to his advisor Kamek but you do feel his angered huff hitting the back of your neck and you try your best to not shudder at that.

Bowser and you walk to the outskirts of the Castle, by the time you enter the dry forest, with the moon above you, you are certain that something is different about him. His steps are unrushed, not exactly slow rather each step is taken with the intent of extending the time spent with you.

The curious and amused expression he used to have whenever he was with you is nowhere to be seen, in its place is a somber face void of the smile you had caught a liking to. “Where are we going?”

His steps halt in front of a path that leads to a wide green pipe before taking a breath. “This is where you were found. The pipe will take you back where you belong.” He isn't looking at you in the eye, he just reaches his hand out for you to take and helps you step on the edge.

And for once Bowser doesn't want to rely on violence. On any form, whatsoever. Not threats, neither abductions nor anything remotely close to forcing you to do something you don’t want to.

He doesn't let go of your hand, nor do you make any effort to walk further into the pipe.

And so, in the stillness between you does silence speak volumes.

Stay.

Turning your back on the pipe, thus making his hand grab yours in a tighter hold, a hug where you don't want to let go of the other speaks the words that are left unsaid.