She was perfect.

Too perfect.

Guy groaned, closing his eyes in exasperation. His arms were outstretched as though wanting a hug, and the grass tickled his back through his blue tunic. He was in a plain. This was his element. Yet he felt... He felt uncomfortable.

Because she was perfect.

Guy was never interested in girls before. Sure, back at the tribe, he'd go out of his way to help any woman who seemed to be in need, but that was a courtesy thing more than anything else. He was much more interested in mastering his blade than finding a soul mate. And even after he left the plains of Sacae, affording his next meal was still much more important that the humane need to reproduce.

But she was perfect.

Guy didn't understand it at first. He initially thought that - for whatever reason - he was afraid of her. He himself didn't know what about her there was to be afraid of. After all, she was the gentlest person he had ever laid eyes upon.

But that probably just came with being perfect.

What Guy did know was that he wanted to get away from her as fast as possible. She made him feel weird, and he eventually labelled this as fear. And when he yearned to see her, he decided that it was just him wanting to overcome his fear.

Matthew had found the ordeal all-too-entertaining when Guy had dejectedly come to him regarding the situation. "You're a late bloomer!" the spy had chimed. "What are you, eighteen? Heh..."

And then, much to Guy's frustration (and embarrassment), Matthew went so far as to tell Guy all about "the birds and the bees".

Now he knew how he felt, though.

To him, she was perfect.

Guy opened his eyes, lifting his hand to shield them so that the sun didn't blind him. The sun was bright, warm, and welcome. Yet so far away...

The Sacaen teen couldn't stop a bitter chuckle from slipping from his lips. The sun was perfect, yet so far away.

She was very much like the sun.

Guy glanced to the side as a ruffle of grass caught his attention. His gaze fell upon perfection.

She was perfection.

Her red hair, silky and flawless just barely grazed her shoulders. Even in war, her bangs somehow managed to be neatly trimmed. Her green eyes sparkled as their gaze met his, and Guy found himself blushing as he turned away to look back up at the sky.

"You look tired," Priscilla murmured, dusting off her skirt as she stared at the swordsman. Guy opened his mouth to mutter something in reply, but found no words suitable for his current thoughts.

Well, other than "I love you" or "Can I kiss you?". But neither seemed appropriate at that time.

Guy sighed, closing his eyes again. If he closed his eyes, he couldn't look at her. He wouldn't have to look at her unattainable perfection.

At the back of his mind, he wondered. He wondered how this had happened. How he had let this happen. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her, of all people. After all, she was...

She was so far away from him.

Guy's eyes shot open when he felt a gloved palm come in contact with his forehead.

"Guy, are you alright? You don't look so well. As though you may have a fever..." Guy was half-tempted to ask her how she was going to be able to feel his forehead for a fever with a glove on, but decided against it.

He closed his eyes again.

"I'm fine. Just, er..." Guy broke off, unsure of how to express his thoughts. "Um... Priscilla. What do you think of the sun?"

Priscilla blinked. "The sun?"

"Er... Yeah. That."

Priscilla's brow furrowed a bit. "Um... Well, it gives plants life, right? And it's nice of it to be looking out for everyone..."

Perfection.

Guy smiled despite himself. "You're kind of like that... Giving us life. Looking out for us..."

Priscilla's hand slipped from Guy's forehead, and he found himself regretting the fact he said anything.

The silence that followed was nowhere near perfect. In fact, it was incredibly awkward.

Kind of like Guy.

"What I mean to say is that it's r-really nice of you to always be there for people when they need you! Er... You know." Guy didn't even know where he was going with this. Maybe he should just have shut up. Shutting up seemed like a great idea.

"But Guy..." Priscilla whispered, just loud enough for Guy to hear. "I wasn't there when House Cornwell fell."

Guy's brow furrowed as he turned to look at the girl sitting beside him. "... Priscilla?"

"I wasn't there when Raymond needed me... I..." She paused, taking in a deep breath. "I couldn't help him."

Guy blinked. "Raymond...?"

Priscilla smiled sadly before whispering, "He's... He was the most important person to me."

Guy froze, his eyes widening.

Oh, great Mother Earth.

She wasn't only perfect and unattainable, she was taken.

He had no idea how he was going to get around this.

Guy turned away, closing his eyes again. Maybe if he couldn't see her perfection, he would forget about her. Maybe... "Priscilla, I -"

Soft lips grazing his own chapped ones quickly shut up the Sacaen swordsman. He experimentally lifted his hand to grip the shoulder of the person kissing him. The skin was soft, smooth, and perfect.

Priscilla was kissing him.

For a moment, his mind short-circuited. Then the idea of kissing her back clicked, so he experimentally pushed his lips softly against hers. It was a chaste, innocent kiss. It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Guy lifted his hands from the grassy ground beneath him hesitantly, gently gripping her waist with them. At the back of his mind, he wondered whether or not he should have done that. Since she didn't hastily pull away from him, he concluded that yes, he should have.

Soon after Guy moved his hands, Priscilla pulled away, hovering just above his face. "I love you," she whispered. Guy opened his eyes, taking in her emerald gaze as he tried to remember how to speak. He could ask her about Raymond, but realized that maaaaybe that wasn't the best plan.

"I-I..." Guy trailed off, glancing away from her as his already pink-dusted cheeks reddened further. "I love you, too."

Priscilla smiled, leaning back so that she was kneeling beside him again. Guy wondered how she could be smiling. He was hardly anything to smile about. He was so terribly awkward, while she...

She was perfect.

But maybe just a bit more attainable than the sun.