A/N Fueled by Mumford and Sons and a desire to write a bit like my older style, I'm jotting down a short piece as warmup. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, regret nothing and let them forget nothing.

I believe one of the hardest things I've ever tried doing was to mean something to you.

Why am I so foolish in the first place, to even try? Anyone with a pair of eyes would know what a daunting task this would be. You've always been so distant. Do you even recognize that you are the same as us, a human like the rest? You don't seem to recognize yourself when you see us.

I don't think you are one of us. And that's not a declaration, it's an observation. I don't think you want to be.

Your voice is emotionless and your words calculated. Your eyes are a soft blue, but they're as chilling as a glacier and not as warm as the sky. Even your skin is cold… as far as I know. I once caught onto your hand- I claimed it was only because I had to steady myself from a fall, but I knew you didn't buy it. I must have looked like such a fool.

I must still look like such a fool. Damnit, I am a fool. I'm a blind, hopeless idealist in the guise of a supposedly handsome prince with bright cerulean hair and not enough clarity to see that I need to live and let die.

Why have I even fallen for you? You've never done anything for me. You rarely even speak to me. Is it because someone like you intrigues me? Is it because of your physical form, which admittedly in and of itself is quite stunning?

No, it couldn't be. I'm not that kind of person. I know that. Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting. I still can't decide what it is about you that makes me watch you as you walk by, my heart in my throat. What it is that makes me follow your eyes from a distance as they observe what they perceive as something hollow, something temporary.

Maybe it is because I hope for you. I can tell, even through your glazed, disinterested eyes that there is a sadness through you. A special kind of sadness, and a tragic set of charms, I've heard from a song somewhere, on a distant radio that caught my ears at some time. It rang true, albeit not until I turned it over in my mind many times. I wish to comfort you, as absurd as it sounds. And it does, and I kick myself for it all the time.

When I think about you, which admittedly is quite often, it's not the dreamy state of love and admiration that usually should be there. It's a state of wonder. I wonder what you are really like. What your thoughts could be. What your life was like. When I dream, it's through your eyes, in your world. And then I wake up and none of it was true and it just gets me that much more confused.

Goddamn it.

And that's how it is. My pain is your pain. You are becoming part of me but you don't realize it. Would you recognize my name if you heard it? Your name has turned over in my mind so many times, but so rarely do I say it aloud.

Samus Aran. I wonder if that is true. I wonder if you are true, if you are real and not a figment of my imagination that has gone out of control. If you are not a character to a book that I seem to be composing. But God knows I can't figure you out. Oh, and how I do try.

Why you? Of all people, why you? I admit, there are a few luxurious and beautiful women around to pique my interest. I know they are attracted to me- there's the princess from Hyrule, Zelda, who looks at me in the same way I look at you. But I am not attracted to her. And I feel ashamed for that.

Why must love be so complicated?

I wish… you know, I don't even wish that you loved me. I don't trust my biggest hopes on a dime tossed into an empty well. It will just land on many abandoned dimes that have accumulated at the bottom, which serve no purpose other than to give false hope to those who wish.

I do wish you would acknowledge me.

I wish you would ask what is wrong with me. Ask me why I stare at you for minutes on end and don't even notice they went by. Get angry with me if you need to! I would welcome it! Say whatever you want to me!

Just leave the floor open for me to reply.

I don't care if you reject me. I would gladly welcome it, as a matter of fact! If it would shock me to my senses, it could possibly be the best thing to ever happen to me!

But who am I kidding. I want you to love me too. It's ridiculous. In fact it's simply unhealthy, to be so sick, so fearful and ashamed over love. Love is supposed to dismiss your fears, not break your heart. I heard that from another song, somewhere, someday. The days seem too melt into each other. I don't sleep much anymore, because I'm afraid I'll dream. And it will be of you.

I'm just poisoning myself, really. Anyone with a pair of eyes could notice it, and yet no one does. I guess I'm a good actor.

Am I becoming you? Cold, desolate, emotionless? I can't be, because I'm burning inside. But to everyone else, I am becoming less engaged, less interactive. When I compete, it is with less passion. All I can really think about is somehow getting back to normal. Back to me. To not be you.

I want to love you, not be you. But I'm too much of a coward to even try.

I really take full responsibility. I should either give up hope or go for it. In fact, you don't even know that I'm processing all of this right now, as we all stand outside on the mansion's deck, celebrating the tournament's end. Who won again? I didn't notice, unfortunately.

Are you noticing that I'm staring you again, right now? The music is slow, ringing through the speakers set up through the patio, and it seems to fit the mood. The single piano, the determined, dark drum. Someone in the song keeps shouting "Look at you!"

And that's fitting, because that's all I can do. Look at you.

And that's when I realize that it's not good enough anymore. And so I begin to walk towards you. My intent is to just kiss you and get it over with. I've done stupider things before, even pertaining to this relationship (I honestly don't know what to call it) that is between the two of us.

And I haven't the slightest clue of what will happen next. I really don't. But if my love is the poison, you are the cure. For better or worse. Your lips will cure my pain or your slap to my face will cure my tunnel vision. I'll take anything I can get, really.

I'm running through all these thoughts, because I don't know if I'll ever be able to say them otherwise. But here I go towards you, Samus, heart in my throat, a million different emotions through my bloodstream. For the first or the last time.

As I walk towards you, slowly, coolly, I hear you pronounce my name as a sort of simple greeting. That you knew my name just made my heart race faster, more confident. And that you just might have been smiling a little bit made it even easier.

I reply with your name, your first and last name. It's been awhile since I've said them. My words are breathless and my steps uneven. I'm shaking a bit out of nerves, too, but I am able to get a hold on myself as I take your hand and then your lips in mine. I see your eyes shoot open in surprise, but there's nothing else I can do. Whatever is next is out of my control.

When your eyes close and you refuse to resist, I close my own, because that's a good start.

I'm glad I saved my dime.

A/N I can't really say much about this story. From the time of conception to the time of completion was approximately 30 minutes. It's worth a try, at least.

I referenced three songs in this story. I do not own any of them, and I do not plan to say I do. :P I stated they were songs in the story, so yeah.

I don't know if this anywhere near my quality, but hey, it's worth a shot. Hope you enjoyed.