If there was one thing in this world that Roy was physically incapable of doing, it was losing.
Whether it was on a battlefield, in an arguement, or over who gets the last cookie, Roy could not lose. His painfully stubborn pride made it PHYSICALLY impossible for him to let something go.
And so Roy sat, on his normal sofa, with his legs crossed. For once, his back was to the fire, and his eyes were focused on the boy that sat across from him. Marth sat at the other side of the room, arms crossed as stoiclly as ever. Their eyes were locked. There was dead silence in the room.
They had been simply staring at each other for twenty minutes now.
Not a word had been spoken. Roy had been merrily sticking by the fire, warming his hands as per usual on its heat, and talking animatedly with Mesai. Her side of the conversation though, had dimmed with a cheerful greeting of 'Hey, Princess!'
Every muscle in Roy's body tensed. And apparently this was noticed, as the Prince himself didn't say a word, his eyes simply burning into the redhead's back. So Roy turned around, looking evenly back at him. He gave no greeting, but their eyes met, and turned into a battle.
This own little mini-fight of wills of sort tired Mesai. After five minutes of trying to make conversation, she realized neither was listening to her and left. Ten minutes into the battle, Marth moved away from the doorway, making himself comfortable. Fifteen minutes into the battle, they realized that this may take a while.
And only five minutes later, Roy was beginning to find his non-existant patience running horribly thin.
His eyes creased into a glare, doubling in there intensity. The Prince's gaze was unfaltered. He opened his mouth to speak - before quickly shutting it. No, he couldn't lose. Not when he wasn't even sure what he was fighting.
He wasn't sure how long they watched each other, either, but it went on for what felt like hours. No one, no matter how stubborn, can hold up a glare for that long. Both of their frowns soon dissapeared and they were both reduced to just watching each other peacefully.
Of course, Roy was screaming in anxiety internally. For whatever battle he was fighting, he has somehow had many casualties, and couldn't hold up for much longer. Not when he could feel his defenses crumbling, oh-so quickly.
He let out an irritated breath, the first noise from one of them since Marth entered the room.
Marth raised a single, smooth eyebrow.
And somehow, such a simple action was such a fatal blow.
Roy sucked a breath in as if wounded. He stood up, walking calmly across the room. Marth rose in return, arms still crossed and looking at him cooly. Roy stared at him evenly. And then he gave his final bow by reaching up and planting his lips on the bluenette's.
For half a second, Roy's heart jumped into his throat, as his fear and pride was put on the line.
The bluenette's arms wrapped around him, and his mouth moved against his in return.
And Roy knew that even if he had surrended, he hadn't lost.
Something for a friend.