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Daisy had been caught. She didn’t mean to be. She was usually quite good at hiding these things. But apparently, Luigi had a keen eye.
“Please show me!” He begged again, pouting.
“No! It’s silly.” Daisy stated, covering the piece of paper with both hands.
You see, although the princess loved being active and playing sports, she was also quite partial to drawing. She saw it as a downtime, something to concentrate on in the quiet, something to let her creativity flow.
And she’d been caught doodling by none other than Luigi - officially the last person Daisy wanted seeing her drawings.
“Please?” Luigi got close, and Daisy stared at him.
He looked so genuine, so sweet, that all Daisy could do was sigh.
“Fine,” she whispered finally, averting her eyes and lifting her hands off the page. She ran her thumb over her fingers and chewed her lip as Luigi gently picked up the paper as if it were sacred.
He remained silent.
He was staring at himself, trapped in time in a tranquil peace, focused on something he wasn’t sure of, perched in a chair with a book in his lap.
Silent still.
“I-I’m sorry, it’s not-”
“It’s brilliant,” he interrupted the princess softly, slowly dragging his eyes away from the drawing and focusing on her face, unknowingly mirroring the Luigi in the picture, “I didn’t know you could draw.”
Daisy sat in shock for a millisecond, before coming around and leaning forward slightly.
“You don’t hate it?”
“Of course not!”
“You don’t think I’m a creep for drawing you?”
“If anything,” Luigi scratched his cheek, flushing pink, “I’m quite flattered. No one’s ever drawn me before.”
Daisy felt like she was looking straight into the sun, but tilted her head in confusion.
“Really? No one?”
“Nope,” was Luigi’s reply, holding the paper higher to his face, “your attention to detail is amazing. It’s like looking in a mirror.”
Daisy was turning red with all the complements, shifting in her seat.
“Well,” she chuckled bashfully, “I’m glad you like it. And I’m sorry for drawing you without permission, you just have a nice… face…” she trailed off her short ramble, mentally slapping herself.
Luigi stared at her, before barking out a laugh, covering his mouth as his shoulders jumped.
“Princess, feel free to use me as a model whenever you like,” his rosy cheeks and sudden boldness had Daisy giggling.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, mockingly holding up a thumb and closing an eye, poking her tongue out as if she were measuring his face.
Luigi struck a silly pose, lips puckered, chin up, and they both fell about laughing again.
And then silence once more.
“Do you… have any more drawings?” Luigi asked.
“Yeah,”
“May I see them?”
Daisy, you’re a big girl now, show the handsome man your drawings.
Daisy stood from her seat, graceful and practised, eyes trained on Luigi.
He’s so cute.
“Follow me,” she grinned, leading the way down a corridor, up a flight of stairs, along another corridor, through a room, into another room, up another flight of stairs, until they stopped outside a door that appeared to be splattered with orange paint.
“I fell over while carrying paint a few weeks ago,” Daisy explained sheepishly, regarding the mess on the door and scratching the back of her head, “haven’t had a chance to clean it up.”
Luigi, out of breath from the copious amounts of stairs, wheezed, “I like it. Very artsy.”
Daisy gazed fondly at him briefly before opening the door, and Luigi’s back straightened in shock.
The room was tall, with high windows shielded by pretty drapes.
The walls were covered, covered, with paintings and murals, all the way up to the ceiling, which had been half painted too. Colours and shapes and patterns had Luigi spinning in a circle trying to take it all in.
Floral designs pasted the skirting boards, creeping up walls and even onto the back of the door.
Even the floor was glossy with paint spatters and little doodles, remnants of Daisy’s carelessness when splashing paint.
Easels and canvases littered the room, lining the walls or sitting in stacks on the floor. Half finished sketches lay abandoned on a well loved table.
It was empty paint cans and paintbrushes, pencils and paper, colour and pure spirit, and in the middle of it all was Daisy, practically glowing in the sun shining through the window, as she watched for his reaction.
“Wow,” Luigi said breathlessly, and that’s all he had to say, really. He was speechless.
The plumber had no idea the princess was this good at art.
“This is my art room,” Daisy explained, taking his hand and leading him further into the room, “no one but me comes in here. Except for you. And Toadette sometimes, but she only comes in to complain about the mess.” Daisy chuckled, eyes sweeping over his astonished face.
Luigi, bless him, was still taking it all in. He saw sketches of landscapes and portraits of Daisy’s people, Toadette, even Princess Peach, all doing seemingly mundane tasks but brought to life with pure pencil skill.
“Princess, this is incredible!” He mumbled finally, turning to face her. “You have quite the talent.”
“Thank you,” Daisy bowed her head graciously, and Luigi had to admit he’d never seen the princess so… calm. Delicate. Like a flower.
Luigi felt his heartbeat quicken.
The afternoon went by swiftly, filled with them talking about everything and nothing, basking in each other’s company. Daisy laughed at Luigi’s terrible jokes. Luigi complemented Daisy’s work, telling the story of how he had to call upon Mr. Game & Watch in battle because he was just that bad at drawing, and Daisy nearly fell to the floor in a heap of giggles.
Soon it was time for Luigi to leave (as much as he didn’t want to), and he bade the princess goodnight with a bow.
“Come by tomorrow?" Daisy suggested, leaning on the giant doorframe of her palace, a hopeful glint in her eye.
“I might be able to slip away from work early. I’m sure Mario won’t mind.” Luigi said, tipping his hat. Daisy gave one last wave as he descended the steps, before closing the door.
Luigi knew Mario would, in fact, mind. He probably wouldn’t hear the end of it, either. But at this rate he was so smitten with the Princess of Sarasaland that he’d just about do anything.
As Luigi entered his house after a rather bumpy ride through several warp pipes, he heard his brother call from the kitchen, “And where have you been?”
He sounded just like their mother.
“Sarasaland. Had to fix a blockage, remember?”
“All afternoon?” Mario quirked a brow, a smirk playing at his lips, and Luigi braced himself because he knew exactly what was coming.
“Mhm,” he hummed not-so-convincingly, “real messy job, that one.”
“And you totally didn’t spend the day with the princess?”
There it was. Mario knew him too well.
Luigi sat down at the table, staring at Mario with a blank expression.
“Mario,”
“Yeah, Luigi?”
“I’m in love.”
“Yeah, Luigi.”
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“Luigi, it’s two in the morning, what are you doing?” Mario asked groggily as the lamp next to Luigi’s bed flickered on, and he heard Luigi leap out and start shuffling around the room.
“I’ve just thought of something, something that Daisy might like,” Luigi said as he started emptying some drawers, and Mario rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, grumbling, “can it wait?”
“Found it!” Luigi announced loudly with zero regard for Mario or Mario’s sleep schedule, holding up a digital camera, the wrist strap swinging as he waved it around triumphantly.
“Brilliant, good night.” Mario did not care, clearly peeved about being woken up, and Luigi grimaced as he realised.
“Sorry bro,” he whisper-shouted, turning the lamp off and perching on the edge of his bed, much too awake to even consider sleeping.
He waited til he could hear Mario’s soft snores fill the room, then pressed the button on top of the camera, so he could check the battery.
It came to life with a small trill, and Luigi was mildly surprised it still worked. This thing was ancient; he’d received it on his 16th birthday, and he’d always kept it around, just in case.
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“Afternoon, princess,” Luigi tipped his hat as he opened the door to the art room, finding Daisy standing over a large chalk drawing she’d started.
(Daisy did not need to know he got lost twice on the way to the room.)
There was chalk everywhere. Her hands were completely white with dust.
“You came!” She lit up immediately, rushing over.
“Of course,” Luigi said, and for some reason he opened his arms, and for some reason Daisy gave him a hug.
Luigi looked up at the princess as she pulled away, admiring the smattering of freckles across her nose, before remembering why he was here.
“I, uh, actually brought something to show you.” He pulled the camera out of his pocket and held it out.
Daisy peered at it.
“What is it?” She asked, reaching out to touch it, then realising she was still covered in chalk and started frantically looking around for a towel.
“It’s a camera,” Luigi stated, following Daisy as she made her way toward a cloth strewn nearby, “it can take photos.”
Daisy just stared at him as she wiped her hands, waiting for him to elaborate.
Oh, she doesn’t have a clue.
“I’ll show you,” Luigi turned it on and pointed the lens at Daisy, watching her on the little screen. The picture was grainy, but Luigi didn’t mind.
He pushed the button on the top, and the flash came on so suddenly that Daisy took a step back and balled her fists on reflex.
“What was that?!” She questioned in alarm, blinking the flash out of her eyes.
Luigi nearly dropped the camera in panic.
“Ah! I’m so sorry! I should’ve warned you!” He apologised, bowing low. “It flashes to help lighting in the photograph.”
He hurriedly pressed a button to load up the picture, and turned it to face the startled princess.
“See? It’s you!” He grinned, praying Daisy didn’t kill him for spooking her.
Daisy went still, catching sight of the photo.
There she was, gazing curiously at the camera moments before disaster.
She gazed in awe, one finger coming up to gently run over the smooth surface of the tiny screen, over the buttons, careful not to press anything.
“It’s me.” She confirmed, as if this was the first time she’d looked in a mirror. She turned to Luigi. “How…”
“I don’t actually know,” Luigi admitted, “but, it’s pretty cool, right? It can capture things in real time, plus, lots of artists use photos as references, so it can help with drawing and painting and sculpting and… y’know, other… arty things…”
“That’s amazing!” Daisy clapped excitedly, the fear from earlier vanishing completely. She stepped closer to Luigi, blinking. “Can you do more?”
Luigi nearly swooned at the closeness. He extended a hand, prompting Daisy to take it. Her hands looked so delicate in his larger ones.
He led her to a chair, and she sat, watching him expectantly.
He stepped away, held the camera up again, and said, “smile.”
Daisy’s face broke into a radiant grin, her eyes closing as if she were about to start laughing, and Luigi’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. When the flash came and went, Daisy opened her eyes excitedly.
“This is fun!” She giggled, practically bouncing out of her seat and stepping over to Luigi, leaning over his shoulder to have a look at the photo.
There she was again, all smiles this time.
“Is it possible to have one together?” She asked, and poor Luigi nearly malfunctioned.
She wants one with me! Me!
“Sure!” Luigi said as if he wasn’t experiencing palpitations, “Go sit back down and I’ll line the camera up.” Daisy bustled off to her seat as Luigi tried to set up the camera by leaning it on the edge of a counter. He lined it up so Daisy was in it, then started the timer.
He scrambled (ungracefully) across the room, crouched beside Daisy so their heads were level, and smiled.
The flash went off again, blinding them both in unison.
And so they spent the afternoon like that, taking photos on Luigi’s little camera. Luigi would take some of Daisy. Daisy would take some of Luigi. They’d take some together. Luigi taught Daisy what a selfie was.
They posed and laughed and grinned until the camera started beeping.
“Oops, looks like the battery has run out,” Luigi confirmed, looking at the glaring red flashing ‘LOW BATTERY’ icon.
“Aw, that’s a shame,” Daisy plopped into her seat, but she was smiling. She hadn’t had that much fun in ages, “Can you fix it?”
“Yeah, I just need to charge them, that’s all.” Luigi packed it away, only now noticing how dark it had gotten outside.
A silence fell over them.
“Well, I guess I should get going then,” Luigi shuffled his feet and swung his arms back and forth.
Daisy had to hide her major disappointment. She stood.
“Ah, yes, I suppose you should,” she stroked the front of her dress, looking all the princess she was, and stepped forward, “I’ll see you out.”
They walked in silence, and it seemed to get heavier the closer they got to the front door.
“Good night, princess,” Luigi tipped his hat as he stood on the steps outside.
“Good night, Luigi.” Daisy said gently, bowing her head before closing the door.
Daisy did not expect to find Toadette standing next to her, and jumped a foot in the air out of fright.
“Toadette!” She scolded.
“You’ve got it bad, princess,” Toadette chimed, hands on hips and steamrolling over whatever Daisy was about to say, “and yet you let him go. Again.”
Daisy opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She huffed.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you.” Toadette’s eyes softened, patting her friend’s thigh, the only bit she could reach. “Follow your heart.”
Daisy stared at Toadette, before they both burst into laughter.
“Yuck! Toadette, that was way too sappy, even for you!” The princess chuckled, starting her walk back to her bedroom. Toadette followed, giggling.
“I can write a love song if you prefer,” she teased.
“Please don’t.” Daisy said, and she may have been laughing, but deep down, she knew Toadette had a point.
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“Look what the cat dragged in.”
Here he goes again.
“Hello, Mario,” Luigi said wearily, flopping into a seat, placing his camera on the table.
Mario loomed over him, which was pretty hard for Mario to do, given his short character design, but it helped with Luigi sitting down.
He grinned, wide and knowing.
“So,” he started, “what happened? You’re even later than last night!”
Luigi sighed, gently pushing Mario away so he could get up and raid the fridge.
“I showed Daisy my camera. She really liked it.” He stated, grabbing a carton of orange juice out the fridge and taking a glass from the cupboard.
“Mhm,” Mario nodded, eyes trained on his brother’s back, “and the white handprints on your back?”
Luigi looked up in confusion, before realising what Mario was insinuating.
He blushed a deep red.
“I-It’s not what you think!” He exclaimed, nearly sending his drink flying. Mario immediately roared with laughter as his flustered brother scrambled to explain.
“She was drawing with chalk and hugged me, that’s all! I promise!” Luigi cried, gripping his brother’s arms. Mario wiped a tear from his eye, still chortling.
“Alright, alright, I believe you,” he choked out, grinning up at Luigi, “but seriously, when are you gonna make a move?”
Luigi took a step back and blinked.
“Make a move?”
“Yeah, I mean, you clearly like her,” Mario gestured to him, and Luigi nodded, unable to deny it, “and from what I’ve gathered she likes you too.”
“Oh, nah, she only sees me as a friend,” Luigi waved a hand, shutting Mario down.
“Really?” Mario said incredulously, “Luigi, think about it. Daisy is the type of woman to throw a punch if you overstep. Think about all the time you’ve spent together. Surely that meant something?”
Luigi thought about it.
He saw Daisy. The way she looked at him, so fondly, so gently. The way she’d take his hand. The way she pulled him closer when they were taking photos. The way she spoke, the way she looked, the way she walked.
The way she drew him.
Oh my stars.
Oh my stars.
“Luigi?” Mario prompted gently.
“I have to go!” Luigi moved so suddenly Mario nearly jumped out of his skin.
He raced out the front door, sprinting away into the night.
Mario stood, shaking his head, smiling affectionately. Peach was going to love hearing about this.
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Daisy’s heels lay sadly on the floor, kicked haphazardly out the way as she flopped back onto her bed, replaying the day in her mind. Luigi plagued every thought. It made her feel a bit sick.
Toadette was right; she had it bad. Really bad.
She’d never felt this way before. It was exciting. It was nerve wracking. It was-
A frantic knocking jarred her out of her daydream.
“Princess!” Came Toadette’s muffled voice.
“What?” Daisy sat up in an instant. Toadette swung open the door, nearly toppling over in her haste.
“Princess,” she panted as if she’d run to her room, “It’s Luigi! He’s coming back!”
“What?” Daisy leapt off her bed, scrambling into the corridor to peer out a window overlooking her kingdom.
Oh, that was Luigi alright, and he was sprinting toward her front door.
Toadette, as if she’d read Daisy’s mind, placed her heels next to her, and Daisy put them on, giving her friend a grateful look, before taking off down the corridor.
Her heels clicked in rapid succession as she ran through her palace, navigating her way expertly.
Luigi ran up the steps to the palace, gasping.
“I need to see the princess!” He wheezed, and the guards opened the doors without a second thought.
Luigi ran inside, and suddenly he didn’t know where to turn. He turned this way and that, and then he heard it.
“Luigi!” Daisy yelled, voice echoing down a corridor.
Luigi started toward her voice, just as Daisy burst through a door.
“Daisy,” he whispered.
They ran full pelt toward each other, and Daisy launched herself forward, straight into his arms, kissing him full on the mouth as they both crashed to the floor.
Oh, what a wonderful feeling.
They kissed, pressing so close they thought they’d leave bruises, but they didn’t care, because this is what they’d both been waiting for.
Luigi flung his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close, turning his head to deepen the kiss.
Daisy cradled his head, knocking his hat off and ruffling his hair, laying on top of him as if he were her only comfort.
The kiss was wet, and messy, and loud. It was all pent up passion.
It went on for so long Luigi nearly suffocated.
And so be it, he thought, running his hand through her hair, I’d give her my oxygen so she could keep breathing, I’d give her my life.
“Luigi,” she mumbled against his lips, and oh my stars did he commit that feeling to memory.
“Luigi,” she repeated, and he felt her bring her hands round to cup his cheeks, and he cracked his eyes open.
He knew it. He’d died and gone to heaven.
The light of the chandelier above made Daisy practically glow as she straddled his hips, running a thumb across his wet lips.
“I’m sorry, Daisy, I should’ve been here sooner,” he muttered, squinting up at her ethereal form, “I should never have left.”
“But you’re here now,” Daisy whispered, “with me.”
Luigi smiled, a genuine dopey smile, and Daisy leaned down again to press their lips together again.
“Your mustache is scratchy,” she giggled into his lips, and Luigi wiggled his nose, making his mustache brush along her top lip. She squealed in delight.
“You’re so beautiful,” Luigi said, placing his large hands on her waist, “I’ll take photos of you every day, if you’ll let me.”
“And I will draw you every day, if you’ll allow me,” Daisy answered, “my muse.”
Daisy slid off Luigi, kneeling by his side and allowing him to sit up. They gazed at each other from their perches on the cold floor, a sense of longing evident in the atmosphere.
“Stay the night?” Daisy batted her lashes prettily, and Luigi melted.
“Of course,” he began to get up, pulling his princess up with him. She clung to his arm and the plumber felt an overwhelming amount of pride swell in his heart as they walked towards her quarters.
He'd be her muse all day every day if it meant he could stay like this forever.