Hi hello what's up everyone! This will be a site where I post my fanfictions. I usually write based on what got me obsessed the most lmao so yeah I hope you enjoy reading my fics
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ONGOING FICS
. Pleasant Wishes
FINISHED FICS
. Hollow Demon
. When Two Are One
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria, Hop & Yuuri | Gloria
Characters: Beet | Bede, Yuuri | Gloria, Hop (Pokemon), hop isnt present technically but he has dialogue, its ok hops role is a sweet platonic bond coz i love my boy, Brimuon | Hatterene, Aceburn | Cinderace
Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, First Time, Sexual Tension, French Kissing, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cunnilingus, FINALLY i wrote bede eating gloria out its what she deserves, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Come Inside, Emotional Sex, i think thats enough lol, Love Confessions, Aged-Up Character(s), theyre in their 20s here, Jealousy
Summary:
It had been 4 years since she became Champion. And it had been 4 years Bede had been battling about his intense feelings for her.
 One stays on the ground. Sitting and silent as vision haze over nothing in particular. One kneels quietly. A hand gently rubs the otherâs back in silent sympathy.
 She swallows heavily. Thickly. A flinch tugs her face at the disgusting taste of her throat. Shakily her hand moved to her mouth, wiping away any excess vomit. The darkness still envelops the sky, her vision, but Kotone can perfectly see the corpses now rolling inside the twisted games of her mind.
 She feels like throwing up again.
 She swallows again. Then looks at Hibiki. Words are absent even as she opens her mouth. Eyeballs ache at the dry tears that crinkle the corners of her eyes. While her body has stopped shaking, Kotone unfortunately canât stop the rapid beat of her heart. ââŠbiki,â she manages, barely, then stifles at another cry.
 His hand remains at her back. âIâm here.â He reassures her. A calm expression is worn on his face, but both know the man is just as shaken at what they had witnessed. After nearly two hours of registering the situation and digging two graves for the poor souls, Kotone finally succumbed to fatigue and stress and fell to her knees. Luckily her team was there to catch herâDamien nearly cried as she remained limp in his arms.
 Now, another hour has passed, as Kotone still feels lifeless.
 Even with her fire starterâs warm fur, chills still seep deep into her bones.
 She looks at Hibiki, eyes forlorn and pale lips stuck in a shaken frown. âIâŠâ It hurts. âI justâŠâ It truly hurts. âI donât want thisâŠâ This is a nightmare. She wants to wake up. She wants to be in her Silverâs arms. No matter how badly she closes her eyes and prays for the best, Kotone only receives a vision of the grim reality that envelops her surroundings.
 She hates this so much.
 One hand gently squeezes her shoulder. âWeâŠâ What should he say? âWe gotta goâŠâ Go where, exactly? He is still at lost. And like her, Hibiki wants nothing more than to hope that he will soon wake up in the comfort of his own bed.
 Night still fills the sky. Sleep has long been robbed.
 Slowly she sits upright. Kotone hears Damienâs worried coos, and she replies him with a small, forced smile.
 It doesnât convince the Typhlosion at all.
 His arms, while not as long as some, wrap around his trainer. Providing warmth. Providing comfort. Providing security. Everything that the redhead should be doing.
 But Silver isnât here, right now. And as much as Damien hates to admit it, the fire starter desperately, quietly wishes he is.
 Again, she takes a slow, deep breath. Pat, pat, she pats Damienâs arms. Giving him silent reassurance her mouth couldnât bear to voice out, Kotone finally tears her gaze away from Hibiki. She looks around, seeing nothing but trees and bushes.
 Hazel eyes then widen at the sight of smoke.
 Her frown remains, now accompanied by clenched white teeth.
-----------
 The factory is loud and suffocating. Rocket grunts move on with their day, doing what they are told without a question in mind. Some do talk to each other, however, talking about their daily lives or sharing the latest gossip as if this is the norm for them. There are rarely any complaints in the factory, despite the area being quite smothering with the lack of fresh air. The grunts know, if they are unsatisfied with something, it is best to keep their mouths shut.
 A lost strength can be returned through good rest. A lost life cannot.
 âUgh!â A Rocket grunt recoils as he accidentally stepped on the smudged trail. âWatch where youâre bleeding. You little shit!â Without hesitance nor care, he starts to kick the silent Furret. Splish! Splish! More blood gush out, staining the front of his shoe, further enraging the furious grunt.
 âLook what you did!â Fury now filling his vision, the grunt raises one foot and roughly steps on the Furretâs spine.
 Crack!
 The sound echoes eerily, yet easily swallowed by other sounds of screams and mechanical movements.
 âStupid!â He stomps again. âStupid!â And again. âStupid!â And again and again and again.
 âShit!â Eyes seeing red, the Rocket grunt scoot an inch backâ
 CRACK-SQUISH!
 âand jumps right at the Furret.
 His right foot has reached the floor with cracked bones scraping his shoe. His left, specifically the heel of his foot, has drilled deep into the top skull of the silent Furret. Â
 Silence fills the area.
 The other grunts watch in amusement and annoyance. While most merely shrug and move on with their lives.
 This is nothing new, after all.
 Finally satisfied with the result, the Rocket grunt carefully sidesteps and cocks his head in pride. âDamn. We need new meat that doesnât bleed muââ
 BOOM!
 Apparently, their daily norm will soon be shattered into a million pieces.
 Finally, a single gruntâs scream catches their attention.
 As one scream echoes in the chaotic factory, more and more follow suit.
 One trainer stands atop her red Gyarados. Another sits up perfectly straight atop his Pidgeot. None of them are Rocket Admins nor Rocket Executives. Hell, they are sure as hellâand honestly relievedâit isnât The Boss.
 But their relief is short-lived as one of the trainers points directly at them.
 Anger flares deep within her, Kotone clenches one fist by her side and furiously bellows, âYOUâRE ALL DONE FOR!â
 âArceusâŠâ Hibiki grits his teeth after returning his team. Only Belle, his Meganium, is free from her ball, wanting to stand by her trainerâs side and keep watch for any more danger. Silence now fills the area. Dust and rubble still fly about, so Belle whips up any excess dust with her vine whips. Â
 Once their vision is free from any obstacles, Hibiki truly wishes he would rather not see instead.
 Shivers ran up their spine to hear the horrifying sound.
 As the front of the Slowpokesâ bodies were being shoved by something disgustingly sinister, their backsâtheir tailsâare constantly being cut by giant blades. Blood has painted each blade, rusting its metal as it slowly lifts upwards. In a matter of 5 minutes, another tail has quickly grown on its base. And once the tail has reached its full shape,
 FWING! SLITCH!
 It is gone in a matter of seconds.
 Again and again and again this process continues. The Slowpoke are not saying a word, not moving a muscle. Yet they remain in their metal chains, staring emptily with eyes cracked in red.
 Horror paints her eyes black. Horror drains all colour from her face.
 âDAâMIEEEEN!!â
 Unable to take the sight anymore, Kotone shrieks at the top of her lungs and falls to her knees.
 The Typhlosion didnât need to hear any further instructions. With fire raging madly on the back of his neck, he releases a powerful Eruption and burns the dreaded machineries downâalong with the living corpses. Â
 A wall of fire engulfs their vision. Fast. Panic kicks in immediately, Hibiki releases his Ledian and rushes to Kotoneâs side. âLight Screen!â As hands reach for the distressed woman, his Ledian quickly forms a huge barrier around them.
 Fire starts exploding and sputtering out of control. Yet the Typhlosion continues to burn everything in sight, careful as not to be hit or squashed by the falling contraptions.
 Hibiki remains kneeling by Kotoneâs side, hugging her tightly as his dear friend screams and cries until her throat breaks.
-----------
 It is a normal day in the Rocket Hideout.
 A yawn escapes him. Both arms are stretched upwards, head then lightly tilts left and right to ease the muscles in his neck. Boredom curls his lips downwards. Green eyes monitor the graphs and statistics on the screen. Nimble fingers quickly type what needs to be typed.
 Enter. Confirm. Enter. Confirm. Enter. Ctrl+C. Confirm.
 Ugh! What a pain, truly, he thinks. As much as deskwork isnât his main job, it always irritates him that there are days that require him to key in some stupid data. Well⊠He leans forward, one elbow leaning against the metal desk, at least I can go to the Slowpoke Factory tomorrow. I can roughen up some grunts with mock battlesâ
 Beep! Beep!
 Thoughts reach a halt once green eyes see a bright red notification beeping on the far left of one of the monitor screens.
 Boredom tweaks into mild confusion. A single eyebrow raised, he responses the emergency call with a single press of a button. âWhaâ?â
 âAdmin Proton!â
 Confusion evolves to absolute shock. The sight of a bunch of weary, beat-up Rocket grunts makes him sit up straight. âWhat the hellââ
 âHelp!â One of the grunts in the screen butts in. âThereâs a huge problem in the Slowpoke Factory!â
----------
 Truly, he hates this part.
 He is their boss. His boss. Thanks to him, Team Rocket has reached absolute power over Kanto and Johto. No one dares to pick a fight with the organization. No one dares to go against the notorious terrorists. If anyone is stupid enough to do so, it would be as if they have a death wish.
 Thanks to their new boss, all is right with the world. Thanks to their new boss, Team Rocket has become the most powerful criminal organization the world fears. Society fears them. The criminal underworld idolizes them. While other regions have not been subdued completely, Proton has received many news that, thanks to Team Rocketâs financial aid, organizations such as Team Galactic and Team Plasma are so close to reach their dominating goal.
 Well, when Proton thinks about it, their boss only literally allows Team Rocketâs financial aid. Other aids such as scientific or military assistances, their boss would rather keep it quite or ignore it completely.
 His goals are more personal, after all.
 âUmâŠâ
 His train of thought pops once the voice peeps from behind. Proton looks from behind his right shoulder. A single eyebrow is raised, silently indicating the nervous grunt to continue.
 The lowly grunt looks down. âIsâŠâ His heart beats rapidly against an aching chest. âAreâŠare you sure itâs okay to have an audience with him?â Through the bruises of his eyes, the grunt casts a peek at Proton. Indifference flashes the adminâs face clear and obvious, and this only shakes the poor gruntâs nerves.
 A simple shrug is given. âItâs okay.â Itâs not gonna be okay. âI mean, you said it yourself that you all were caught off guard by some trainers.â Trainers are that are supposed to not exist in the first place. âIâm sure if you explain to the boss properly, heâll understand.â Youâre dead.
 The smile he wears never reaches his eyes.
 Finally, they stop in front of the main room. Two huge doors are placed in front of them. Itâs soft colours of mahogany brown are a mere contrast to the fiery pits of hell that reside from the other side of the doors. No one is present. Green eyes silently observe left and right, quickly realizing that neither Archer nor Ariana are around as usual to cater to their bossâ orders.
 âGreatâŠâ He really hates this part.
 Biting back a grumble, he gently knocks on the doors. âBoss,â he calls out, one fist rapping still on the hard wood. âOne of the grunts are here.â
 âGet in.â
 The cold, dead voice sends chills down his spine.
 His fist tightens against the door, Proton pushes it open. He is welcomed with dull light piercing right through the door. The giant window that is stretched on one side of the room glows grimly, illuminating the bright moonlight that pours into the room. Black curtains are tied by each side of the giant window. A chair is seen rolled towards the window, giving no signs that it will turn to face them. The room itself it quite big, making both Proton and their scared grunt to take nearly ten steps before they can reach the center of the place.
 The door eerily closes behind them.
 He wants this shit to be over quick.
 Knowing that the grunt is scared shitless to say a peep, Proton bites the insides of his cheeks before continuing, âThe grunt is here becauseââ
 âLet him speak.â
 That alone has enough power. Enough command to shut Proton up.
 An exhale is released quietly. He turns to the flinched grunt. Without a word, he places one hand on his back and pushes the poor man forward.
 The grunt wants to cry. Tears trickle down a scratched face. Hands cupped together until fingers ache at the force, he takes a few steps forward. âB-B-BossâŠâ Stutters break into cries. âIâŠâ Cries hold back a desperate need to sob. âI uhââ
 âOut with it!â
 Shit, the grunt knows he will die if he accidentally pees on the bossâ carpet.
 âIâM SORRY!â he bawls, voice cracks a pitch in absolute fear. âIâ!â Pupils shrink into dots. âWe all were caught off guard! We did our duties as commanded until suddenly these two trainersââ
 âTrainers.â
 The word isnât a question. The cold tone sends shivers down their spines.
 The voice has enough power to rob them of their freedom.
 Proton stays in place, standing by the doors. Arms are crossed tightly, flinching even every time he hears the bossâ voice. He keeps his eyes on him, on the back of the black chair. It hasnât moved an inch, but the admin can see his right elbow perched comfortably on the armrest.
 He often wonders what plays in that sick manâs brain.
 Finally, after what felt like hours of unbearable silence, the boss shatters it. âWhere are these trainers now?â
 The grunt, as if he has been snapped from a trance, jolts upright. âIâWe donât knowâŠâ Before the young man before him could snap, the grunt quickly adds, âB-But we are sure theyâre still in Azalea Town! So they might be on their way to G-Goldenrod City o-o-orâ!â
 âEnough.â
 The moonlight shines upon the person on the chair.
 The silence in insufferable. The silence dances around the gruntâs and Protonâs pricked skin.
 A right hand is seen. âYou are dismissed.â
 Shock almost makes the grunt loses his balance. A single eyebrow perches on Protonâs forehead.
 The same hand directs to the side. âGo through that door.â
 Both pairs of eyes look to the right side. There only exists a black door and nothing else. While the walls around it are free from pictures or shelves, the grunt feels confusion growing from within. His mouth parts open, but then hangs for a few seconds before slowly cupping it shut.
 Itâs best to not rile up the bossâ one of many good moods tonight.
 Feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, he keeps bowing and bowing. âT-Thank you, boss!â Hands slapped to his knees, he then shoots up straight. âI promise Iâll get better! Iâll show you that Team Rocket is not to be messed withâ!â
 âLeave!â
 Fear once again shoots him in the chest, the grunt immediately makes a mad dash towards the door.
----------
 Once entered, he slams the door shut and drops his back against the hard wood. A huge sigh escapes him. More and more tears are wiped by the back of his hands.
 He is safe. He is free.
 Honestly, rumours of their boss being a ruthless, heartless dictator was apparently mere myths. While all Rocket members respect him, all of them are terribly terrified of the boss as well. Not all have seen him in person, and most prefer it that way. But judging by the way the situation was handled, the grunt is greatly relieved that his boss has given him a second chanceâ
 A deep growl breaks his train of thoughts.
 Quickly his eyes snapped open, not realizing that he has them shut the second he exits the roomâ
 A single Feraligatr stands in front of him. His body, bloodied and bruised positioned so close until his tail slammed against the door beside the grunt. His jaw, gaped and hanging, is wide open. Drool and spit trickle down until they stain the gruntâs blood-stained shoes. Pupils and irises shrink manically to tiny dots. Fangs gleam maliciously right in front of the stunned grunt.
 Arceus, Proton only wishes that the room can be sound-proof.
 The silence in the huge room doesnât help in the least. Sounds of bones cracking. Sounds of a man shrieking. Hell, he flinches even when he hears something soft and squishy slam hard against the other side of the black door.
 Quickly he looks forward, arms automatically slapped to the sides. âYes, boss!â
 Finally, the chair moves.
 The young man looks forward, coldly stares at the admin that remains frozen in the middle of the room. âGet Petrel and the executives.â He stands up, palms pressed against the desk before him. Locks of bloody crimson drapes softly against his shoulders. A low ponytail is tucked neatly by the side of his white collar. His voice is deep, lulling a terrifying calm that increases the beat of Protonâs heart.
 But he knows, even in the dull light of the moon, even with the voice that echoes a melody of death, Proton can clearly see his jaw tense roughly.
 Yes. He definitely hates everything about this.
 Wrath swirls in a pair of dull silvers. Reaching for a pair of black gloves that are placed inside the drawer of his desk, Silver grimly seethes, âItâs time for an extermination.â
 She dances with him. Her feet are light as she glides around the meadow. Her smile rivals the sun. Her eyes sparkle like stars that blankets the night sky.
 Violet eyes keep their gaze on her. Her grace. Her presence. Around and around Gloria spins under his waiting arm. Finally, she once again twirls back into his embrace.
 IâŠ
 Her laugh is addictive, tickles his own throat to bubble a sound of glee. Her smile beams brighter. Just for him. Only for him.
 IâŠI loveâŠ
 A smile traces his lips. His hands rest on her hips. Her hands caress his shoulders.
 She looks ever so beautiful.
 Her hands trail down to his arms. Down, down until she brings her own to cup his palms.
 I love youâŠ
 The thought lulls in his brain as she kisses the back of his hands.
 âI love you.â Her voice is a melody that brings his heart to life. âI love you so much!â Her smile brightens. Cheeks are filled with swirls of red.
 I love you⊠He canât bring himself to say it; he doesnât know why.
 So he kisses her hands back. Eyes are never strayed from her delightful smile.
 Sheâs a blessing.
 I love you so much!
 He wants to laugh. To chortle. To snort. To bathe in bliss that fills him whole.
 Violet eyes never torn away from the light of his life, Bede brings her to a tight hug. His arms wrap around her waist. Tightly. Desperately. He can feel her body pressed roughly against hers. He can feel her laughter caress the side of his face.
 He doesnât want to let her go.
 I love you! His heart screams. I love you! I love you! I loveâ
-----
 The cold wind is not pleasant on his skin.
 Violet eyes are snapped open, unblinking and stunned at the chill that jolted him awake.
 TickâŠtockâŠ
 Ah.
 TickâŠ
 His vision starts to blur. He hates himself for it.
 Seconds feel like hours, until finally Bede slowly sits up.
 The bed feels cold.
 Hah⊠Dry laughter scrapes across a dry tongue. One hand rests upon his lowered head. Fingers press against his scalp, nails digging deep as he tugs his white hair. His other hand moves to his right shoulder, clutching deep into the skin as he imagines her holding him.
 How pathetic.
 His vision tears into two.
 Slowly he closes his eyes. Regret spikes up immediately.
 He can see her smile. Hear her laugh. His mind plays a cruel game for he can feel her warmth scraping his skin.
 The wedding invitation, crumpled and torn, cackles at him from the living room.
 He laughs once. Twice.
 I love youâŠ
 The moon shines upon the sorrow that echoes inside the room.
 âOkay Skitty,â She holds out her index finger that has the cake batter, âdo you think this is sweet enough?â
 Without a word nor hesitance, Silver nips her finger and sucks the batter off of it.
 âDelicious.â A cheeky smirk curls the corner of his mouth.
 Clearly, he wasnât talking about the cake batter.
 A single tongue juts out, though laughter then bubbles next. âYouâre impossible.â Trying to ignore the blush that burns her cheeks, Kotone focuses on the cake mix. âItâs been a while since Iâve baked anything, so I really do need some serious feedback about it.â
 His smile widens. âI am serious.â Slowly he walks closer and stops right behind her. âIt is delicious.â Arms casually snake around her waist. He feels her shiver, but Silver knows damn well Kotone is playing hard to get as she keeps on mixing the batter.
 Two can play that game.
 âIt is a tad sweet.â He places his chin onto her right shoulder. âThen again, maybe thatâs you and not the cake.â Casually he shrugs, then peeks at the huffing woman he dearly loves with all his heart. Hands cup together near her stomach, gently rubbing the existence of their love that is growing in her womb.
 She feels warm. Her neck and face are as crimson as his hair. âToo bad youâre not fond of sweet things, huh.â Hazel eyes return his longing gaze. Regret rises as she feels sheepish at the honest stare.
 Her body is pulled backwards, closer to him.
 âI only love one sweet person.â A kiss is bestowed on her neck. âI love that sweet person so much, I canât get enough of it.â The kiss lingers to her cheek, to the corner of her right eye. âItâs addicting...â
 A giggle, loving and warm, tickles her throat. âAre you being smooth?â
 âHalf of it.â He nuzzles into her soft brown hair. âIs it working?â
 Arceus, she canât get enough of him. âVery much.â Once again she dips her finger.
 Looking at the busily nuzzling husband, Kotone gently tilts her head to get his attention.
 Once Silver leans back to face her, she bursts a short laugh to see surprise paints on his face at the little smudge on his lips.
 Surprise merely intensifies when she turns and licks the batter off his pink lips.
 âWell, look at that.â She licks her lips, feeling tingly and sweet from head to toe. âLooks like youâre super sweet too.â
 Mild shock keeps him stunned for a while. But that shock quickly evolves to naughty glee in a span of four rapid heartbeats. âNow youâre impossible!â Quickly he wraps his arms around her again, earning a cute squeal from his beloved.
 A kiss on the cheek is a sign that one wishes to know the other better.
 The first kiss they had was right before a battle. Olivia found it baffling, amazing even that she could focus on the battle when Henry had kissed her on the cheek after asking permission to give her a little something.
 She did say yes, of course, because she trusted him. She honestly didnât expect his âlittle giftâ was a short peck on her right cheek.
 âA special charmâ, he said, âto protect you from being hurtâ.
 Now that she thought about it, there wasnât a single harm being laid on her. Maybe it truly was a charm? Maybe Henry didnât tease her like she expected?
 She gingerly cupped her right cheek. It still felt warm.
---
 A kiss on the forehead is a sign that one cares about the other.
 Chup...
 Shock brought the mage to a stunned silent. Tears still streaming down his face, he gaped at the dancer. Her smile seemed weak, a bit frail, but colour was back to her face and the smile only shined brighter and brighter the more he looked at her.
 He only wished to look at her forever.
 âIâm okay...â Voice a bit hoarse from the ache, Olivia carefully wiggled as she tried to sit up properly. The action only allowed her to snuggle closely into his arms, right to his hammering chest.
 She was alive. She was safe and alive.
 Though fully recovered, shock still drained her energy. In the end, Olivia leaned against his chest and sighed slowly. âThanks again for getting rid of the poison...â Her voice meek and timid, voice toned down to a squeak even at the reality that she had kissed him on the forehead.
 His reply wasnât verbal, but to feel his hug tightened around her was more than enough for Olivia.
---
 A kiss on the hand is a sign that one thinks they are lovely.
 Could he marry her again? Could he just ask for her hand in marriage and marry her all over again?
 She was stunning in her new dancerâs outfit. It had a much darker allure to it, yet Olivia looked just as angelic as ever.
 She stood before him, embarrassed and proud. While she knew the new outfit gave her the chance to try on new dance routines, she couldnât deny feeling nervous at her dear husbandâs loving stare. If life was a cartoon, she swore she could see hearts flying right above his head.
Olivia then felt her right hand being held. Curiosity flickered in her eyes. Surprise then splashed her face to see Henry kissing the back of it.
 Again and again he kissed the back of her hand. He couldnât stop. He didnât want to stop.
 âMy dear, lovely Olivia...â He kissed again. âMy darling angel...â And again. âI just wanna eat you up!â A light nip was given on the back of her hand. A violet eye shined like a sly fox.
 A cheeky smirk curled each corner of his lips.
 Olivia could only bite back the need to giggle like a silly little girl.
---
 Some say an Eskimo kiss is a sign that one feels very, very happy with their beloved.
 âIs my Olivia still cold?â Henry nuzzled into the spot between neck and shoulder. His arms around her waist snugged comfortably. His lips traced warm kisses to her soft skin.
It felt ticklish. She loved it so, so much. âNot anymore.â Gently she tipped his chin with her finger. Taking the signal, he looked up at her, eyes filled with love and adoration for the light of his life.
 Her nose then brushed his own, flickering a gleam of surprise in pairs of violets.
 âThank you, Henry.â Her voice was a melody he could listen to forever.
 His smile had been genuine ever since she appeared into his life. âWelcome, sweetie pie!â
A commission for @shiba-s. They want a fluffy from a ship in RockRobin. Honestly this was such a fun write!
 A soft stir calmly rumbles him awake. Eyes flicker slowly, then flinch as sunlight peers through the thin curtains of the bedroom window. A grumble pops between nude lips. A few stretches ease the bones and muscles of each arms.
 He then spots beautiful lines of silver.
 A smile curls each corner of his mouth.
 Her face seems serene, peaceful. Though hair isnât as long to completely shield her face, Wizz still finds an excuse to brush a few strands away from her forehead. Warmth tickles his fingers. Feather-like touches stir her slightly. Yet she remains asleep, remains taken by slumber as Robin subconsciously curls closer to him.
 To his arms. To his always waiting, always open arms.
 His smile grows wider.
 Words are still absent from the man, but actions have always been Wizzâs forte. Right arm tucked numbly under her neck, he continues to move his free hand towards her face. Fingers absent-mindedly count each strand of gorgeous silvers. He also loves that about her; he loves one of the many things about her. Deep hazel eyes trace to her face, to the fade flush on her soft cheek. A meek chuckle bubble from him. To know that such a rash, foul-mouthed woman possesses such beauty that can take his breath away. He is a silly fool for falling head over heels for the angel in his arms.
 He isnât a silly fool for falling for her looks first. He is a silly fool for falling for her wild personality.
 Ah, fate can be funny and frankly, quite fucked up at times.
 He continues his silent journey, tracing his fingers to her eyelids, down to her nose, down to the cute pink of her lips. Wizz then realizes the lips are parted slightly, and he hovered across them to feel warm breath brushing his skin.
 Sheâs warm. Sheâs warm and soft and chooses him to fall deeply in love with.
 He feels so giddy inside.
 Feeling that they arenât close enough, Wizz scoots just a few inches forward. Attention and focus are completely given to her, to the love of his life. Palm replaced by fingers, now trailing down, down to her bare arm. It takes him a while, but he soon realizes that she isnât wearing anything under the blanket.
 As so isnât him.
 Memories of last night flutters into his brain. Shivers tickles down to his stomach and thighs.
 Lips pursed tightly, he gently rubs her right arm. Sheâs so cute. So cute. So irresistibly cute and strong. She doesnât deserve all the pain. She doesnât deserve the ass of an ex-boyfriend. She deserves love. She deserves happiness. And while there were times where Wizz felt he was unworthy to give her all thoseâin truth, he still feels unworthy still sometimesâthat doesnât stop him from showing her all the love she needs.
 It was one hell of a ride. But itâs a ride he is solely dedicated to ride on with her.
 Goosebumps are felt on his fingertips. Soft laughter rings in the bedroom. Deep hazels are warm with pure adoration. Intending to memorize every single curve of her body, Wizz moves his arm to her back.
 His eyes soften, twinkle with love. Unable to hold back any further, Wizz carefully leans closer and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead.
 âEnjoying your morning?â
 He wasnât careful enough, it seems.
 Shocked by the sound of her voice, he immediately pulls back. The action is unintentional, automatic. And Robin reacts by quickly wrapping her arms around his neck.
 Their faces are closer. He can see the cheeky smirk.
 Damn him and his red-hot face.
 âI-Iâ!â he stutters, face ablaze. His left hand has been raised away from her body. His right however instinctively curls around her back.
 Robin obviously prefers the latter.
 âMorninââŠâ A yawn escapes her smirk. Casually ignoring her stunned posture, she nuzzles his chest and presses a kiss to his chin.
 Heâs still silent. Flushed. Curse her for taking advantage.
 Greys meet deep hazels. The heat in his face compliments his ruffled, orange hair. Her smirk twitches, then curls to a sweet smile that robs him from all air. âWhyâd you stop?â Voice a bit raspy from sleep and theirâŠfun activities last night, she brings her hand up. One finger gently bops his nose. One tap on the tip, then two taps on his lips.
 What an adorable frown, she thinks.
 âHow long were you awake?â he grumpily asks. His arm from under her neck is free, but Wizz chooses to let his hands roam around her hips. His pout is still present. His cheeks still perfectly painted in pink.
 A giggle trails across her tongue. âLong enough.â A twinkle shines in a pair of greys. âEnoughâŠish.â
 A groan escapes his mouth.
 âSay something next timeâŠâ Voice muffled in her hair, Wizz only brings her closer.
 Her warmth never leaves him.
 âAnd miss all the sweet shit you might say?â Giggles brim to laughter. âDamn, I almost regret teasing you too early.â Her voice is a beautiful melody that livens the room. Carefully Robin tries to wiggle herself free. Free enough so that she can cast a peek at his flushed face.
 His hug tightens. His face hidden still in her hair. âYouâre a piece of shit.â
 âAnd thatâs why you love me.â
 Damn her for being right.
 Ego slightly scratched, Wizz decides to collect his courage and finally pulls back. Just when Robin thinks he is done sulking, she instead gasps a quiet surprise at her body being rolled to her back.
 Grey eyes snap open, shock now flicker in those irises to see a pair of passionate, deep hazels.
 Her hands remain pinned on either side of her head. Her legs are locked by his own. For once, that definitely shuts her up. Shock splashes her face, lips part slightly yet words escape her as pants.
 Step 1 in âBeing Cool and Sexyâ has been achieved.
 Now if only he can do Step 2â
 BAM! BAM!
 The intense atmosphere pops like a bubble when a loud sound slams against the wall near the headboard. Both heads move to the direction.
 âShut the fuck up!â The voice from the other side echoes. âFucking like wild rabbits in the morning! Itâs fucking 8 AM!â
 Damn, Wizz seethes silently. Damn that fat fuck for ruining the moâŠmentâ
 Thoughts burst like bubbles when he feels her legs around his waist.
 Quickly his head drops forward, eyes wide as saucers to see her smirk curling to a teasing grin.
 âOh Wizz!â
 WhatâWizz thinksâthe ever-loving fuck? Realization hits fast, and he almost gasps at the feel of her hips against his. âRoâ!â
 âFuck me harder, Wizz!â Either ignoring his bafflement or too engrossed in pissing the neighbour off, she moans louder. âOh fuck yeeesss!â Up and down she grinds him. Taking advantage of his stunned shock, Robin shimmies her hands until her palms cup his. âA-Aahâ!â Lips part wider. Grey eye winks sweetly. âHarder, baby!â
 Looks like she has initiated Step 2 for him.
 BAM BAM BAM!
 The knocking only gets louder. Swallowing his shame and with a face full of red, Wizz gently presses his chest against hers. âYou want more, baby?â Truly, thereâs something stupidly adorable to hear those words from a face that tries its hardest not to explode. âUnfâŠâ Lower lip tugged by white teeth, he jerks his hips to her rhythm. âLike it harder? Faster, baby?â
 He loves it when she tries to hold back her laughter.
 The louder the curses, the louder they moan. Soon enough, the hard knocking and screaming cease. The last thing both heard was a sound of a door angrily slamming shut.
 Pants and sighs fill the air. Wizz is still positioned above her. Robin now feels limp as she releases her grip on him.
 Grey eyes meet deep hazels. One blink. Two blinks. Three. Until finally, both laugh in absolute glee.
 He opens his eyes first, seeing pure, genuine bliss that he hasnât seen from her for a long time. She truly looks beautiful, laughing and smiling like that. Wizz wants nothing more than to keep that expression blooming as long as he shall live.
 âHey, RobinâŠâ
 Her laughter calms down to giddy giggles. âHmmâŠ?â Once again she looks up at him, this time quite taken aback at the different intensity he bears. âYeah Wizz?â Now her face feels hot. Damn him.
 Not a word is given. Instead he lowers down and rolls to his side with her in his arms.
 âI love youâŠâ
 Grey eyes are wide. Heat now burn straight to the tips of her ears.
 Her smile never wavers. Her heart is a firework she never wants died down.
 No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, noâ!
 Air tastes like toxic as it slithers straight to her lungs. Vision is blurred. Face is pale as the moon above. If it wasnât for Hibiki standing by her side, Kotone would have passed out or fallen to the ground.
 The crimson âRâ still sticks close to her brain like glue.
 Her contacts are missing. Her momâs. Professor Elmâs. The gym leadersâ. Redâs.
 Silverâs.
 They canât log into the internet. They canât find any way to communicate with others. After long, long minutes of rummaging through their devices, Kotone and Hibiki decided to run out of the hidden area and go back to the nearest place: Azalea Town.
 Every step they took wrecked fear into their hearts.
 And now, as both stand before the entrance to Azalea Town, Kotone once again feels as if she is about to drop to the ground.
 A grip on her left hand tightens gently.
 Quietly she looks to the side. Hibiki merely looks at her, forlorn gaze gleaming in each iris. Yet the smile he wears seems sincere, seems hopeful, giving her the push she needs in hopes, in hopesâŠthat this is nothing but a long, horrifying dream.
 âCome on,â he says, assurance forcibly dripping in his tone. Lips purse tightly. His right hand grips her left. His own left hand has curled to a tight, shaking fist.
 Fear overwhelms them both.
 Words are absent, yet a smile finally twitches, tickles the corners of her mouth. A single nod is given. Hazel eyes then dart to the entrance. The building seems gloom and dull, a complete contrast to the traditional, nature-like colours that enwraps the building in her time.
 Her time.
 Air is held tightly inside her lungs, both walk inside.
 Air turns to broken gasps at the sight of the town.
 The sun was always shining. The trees were always dancing. To breathe the air of Azalea Town was to breathe a new life.
 But now, as she stands before the dark environment that she cannot recall what it should have been, Kotone feels as if the town in her memories are a dream all along.
 âW-Wha-atâŠâ The question breaks into shaky gasps. Pupils shrink, swallowed by the horrified gleams of hazels. âWhatâŠhappenâŠ?â One, two, three steps she takes. Her hands are shaking, palms opened as fingers tremble at the cold chill of the wind.
 The sun is gone, shielded by dark clouds that paints the dead town.
 WhatâŠthe hell⊠is all she thinks next as Kotone realizes the building nearby is a gambling centre.
 The bright lights are blinding to a fault. The loud music drowns any sounds nature can ever produce. Vomit and spit and something she will rather not say foul the air. It makes her nauseous. It makes her cringe.
 Slowly she walks the area. Cautious steps are taken, legs feel like lead as gaze falls on the ruined peace. The Pokeballs strapped to her belt are shaking, trembling slightly as they too see the sight that befalls them.
 âThe hellâŠâ Hibiki responds, just as dumbfounded. While he keeps his pace with her, he takes in the surroundings with a heavy frown.
 The trees are chopped, gone and replaced with electrical poles and huge billboard signs. Trash and filth fill the area that was once lakes and parks. The buildings are rundown, scraped from paint or materials that use to liven up the community. These buildings are small, too small and too uncomfortable for anyone to live in. Some of the rooftops are only a wide scrap of zinc, and the trainer holds his breath when he sees blood in some of the walls.
 There is one building that is huge, though; Hibiki freezes in his place at the sight. The colour red mostly fills his vision, further tightening the pits of his stomach at the grim reminder of what shouldnât be.
 More people are seenâmuch to Hibikiâs horrorâsprawling and withering in the darkest corners of the buildings. Some stand silently. Others sit limply. While mostâŠhe looks away at the bodies that remain motionless in the cold.
 âNoâŠâ
 Her voice, broken and wheezed, snaps him back to reality.
 He looks at her. âKotoneâŠ?â She has stopped. Her eyes are wide. Her hands press against the sides of her head. âHeyâŠKo-Kotone?â Worry blooms where disgust once resided a few minutes ago. âKotone, whatâsâ?â
 âThisâŠcanâtâŠb-beâŠâ The words are nothing but a weak murmur.
 One hand hovers across her. âKotoneâŠ?â
 âNoâŠâ She canât hear him. âNoâŠâ She isnât able to hear him.
 Her head then snaps forward, unknowingly causing the man next to her to flinch. Eyes wide in pure mania, Kotone directs her attention to the west side of the town.
 Without a run, she runs towards her destination.
 âH-Hey!â Worry bursts into panic, âKotone!â he chases after her.
---
 Her heart drops to her stomach.
 Following the path she knows so well since she was a teenager, Kotone finally stops and lets out a horrified gasp at the building before her.
 Or at leastâŠwhatâs left of the building.
 âKotone!â Once again Hibiki catches up to her. Pants of air escapes him as he brings both palms to his knees. âGeez! Please donât run off like that!â Mild annoyance tickles him that their roles are now reversed. Exhaling a loud sigh, he straightens his back and faces her. âSeriously, what got youâŠsoâŠriledâŠâ Grey eyes follows what she sees, âupâŠâ
 The buildingâa houseâbefore them is only pieces of demolished walls. The roof is missing. The paints of the house have faded to black and smoke. No grass nor trees are present. No lakes nor puddles appear. Only a single bicycle can be seen perched on the front yard.
 A bicycle that is charred to its steel. Just like the house.
 âOld Man Kurt!â Without haste, Kotone dashes inside. The door is absent, instead replaced with Spinarak and Ariados webs. Fear of the inevitable drowns her mind, she rips them all apart and scrambles in.
 âO-Oi!â Hibiki follows suit, panic reaching its peak every minute.
---
 Once they entered, fear only stays rooted in their hearts.
 Finding a broken branch, Hibiki carefully lights up the end of the wood with Charlieâs fire. âThank you,â he mouths quietly, lips curling a smile amidst his trouble heart. Grey eyes then look at Kotone, who still has shock envelope her entire body. âKotone,â he calls out, waiting as she finally reacts to him, âIâm gonna look around the other room.  IâŠâ What will he say? What will he do? This is a situation none of them ever thought would be thrown into.
 Sometimes, both of them this hopeâbegâthis is nothing but a nightmare.
 Which leaves Kotone alone with Charlie. In and out and in and out the trainer takes a deep breath. Her heart still races. Her forehead still sweats. Trembling hands curl into fists. Dull nails dig deep into her palms.
 âKotoneâŠâ
 Charlieâs soft growls plant Kotone back to the ground. Hazel eyes snap open; she doesnât realize they have been shut tight. Quickly she looks at her Kanto starter. âItâs okay, girlâŠâ It has to. âIâm okayâŠâ I have to.
 She presses forward, careful steps creaking the burnt floors. The stars and moon are out tonight. While the sky paints a glorious picture, the earth below is nothing but horrors and smoke.
 The stars mock her, Kotone thinks.
 While everything is gone, nothing seems to be too horrifyingâat least in her bookâas she stands in the middle of the room. âOld Man KurtâŠlittle TinaâŠâ Hands shakily rub the goose bumps on her arms. âWhere are youâŠ?â I hope⊠Steeling her shaken heart, Kotone moves on to the next room, I hopeâ
 âyouâre safeâ
 Craaackâsquish!
 Darkness looms far worse than the previous room. But before Charlie could enter and light the way. Before Kotone could stop and adjust her vision of the surrounding abyss.
 Before the nauseating stench slithers up into her nostrils, Kotone chokes out a silent gasp.
 Once Charlie enters the roomsâand flinches at the foul smellâshe brings her tail up to light up the room.
 Ironically, the stars and moon help too, and this doesnât help them on what they see.
 A corpse of burnt flesh and bones is curled onto a charred futon. A bigger, charred skeletonâwith a head and tail gone from its bodyâis seen by their side. Flesh of black coat them. Skin of soot is spread against scraped, wooden floors. Their arm, their small, frail, skeletal arm, is spread across the bones next to themâ
 A smallâŠfrailâŠskeletalâ
 Kotone wants to scream.
 She staggersâsquishâ!
 Her body jolts. Her eyes manic.
 Fear is a shadow that swallows her whole. Fear is a poison that pours her lungs with dread. Her arms remain stiff and apart. Her jaw drops open, inviting the disgusting smell to gargle her throat.
 Her head is a robot. Inch. By inch. By inch. Tilting down to the source of the sound.
 The stars and moon are very bright tonight, as they reveal what she is standing on.
 An upper jaw is positioned closely to her left foot. Its rotten teeth touch the materials of her shoe. A head of black and bones is placed vividly above the hilariously clean spot of the floor. Its sockets, while one is absent of an eyeball, the other still possess its own; the eyeball is black as soot and pops out just an inch as it is looking directly at her.
 Her foot remains frozen on the skeletonâs lower jaw, on the spot Kotone has stepped and cracked.
 Hibiki actually jumps at the shrilling sound. A heartbeat pounds once and twice, and it is immediately then that the trainer knows who the sound belongs to.
 âKotone!â Waiting for neither confirmation nor assurance, he stumbles around and makes a mad dash towards her.
---
 Hibiki almost dropped the torch once he finds her.
 âKotoâ!â
 âNOOOO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO FUCKâOH ARCEUS NO!!!â
 Her screams shock the poor man. A flash of red waves madly in front of him, and Hibiki quickly reaffirms himself that it is just her Charizardâs tail flapping about.
 âKotone!â Grey eyes spot her, curled in Charlieâs arms with her own wrapped around her head. The pair is on the far corner of the room, right next to an open space that was once supposed to be a wall. His eyes are on her, on his friend. Though body engulfed by the starterâs arms, Hibiki can see Kotone tremble, shake, whimper.
 Panic floods his mind.
 âKotone, whatââ Crack-squish!
 He immediately stops in his tracks.
 The torch is still firm in his tight grasp. His foot is still pressed deep against what he hopes, what he gravely hopes, is furniture.
 He wants to looks down. He wants to badly to look down.
 But he steels himself. Eyes slowly shut, Hibiki cocks his head up and shakily moves the torch forward.
 He then snaps his eyes open.
 Sweat drips from his head to the corpse underneath him. Pupils shrink to dots. While he hasnât realized the two charred bodies on the futon, Hibiki is instead taken aback at the marking on the wall before him.
 A huge mark stains the wall. Drips of dark, crusty red has dried; some didnât manage to trickle down to the futon below it. Splatters of the vile colour is spread apart like fireworks. Hibiki wants so badly to move the torch away, for he can see chunks ofâŠpink and black stuck to the single letter.
 R
 It paints the wall red. It paints the wall bloody red.
---
 âPleaseâŠâ
 The voice sounds so soothing, yet so desperate.
 âPleaseâŠdonât give upâŠâ
 He still feels her grip on his wrist. He still feels that warmth tickling his skin.
 The image is blurry. All he sees is brown and black. He tries to make out the form of a person. Was it a person? He canât remember. The image seems fuzzy. Unreachable. Indescribable. Yet he can feel the touch on his wrist. He can hear the sound that lulls him to this day. Â
 âPleaseâŠâ He wants to hear more. âPleaseâŠâ He wants to feel more.
 The fire around them continues to envelope the pair. The echoes of screams and steel still resonate the dark, starless night. The moon is mocking them, beaming upon the fallen as if it is a play that brings joy to the cruel Gods who laugh at their despair.
 The stars of the show are them, and the Gods continue to mock and jeer at the entertainment that lies bare.
 N only sits quietly, bloody and bruised. Hope seems lost in a pair of hazy greys. Green hair, disarrayed and wet, is filled with blood and dirt. Voice is absent from a man who had been screaming and crying at the reality that tears him from the inside out. His spear has broken, split in half like the heart that has been torn inside his heaving chest.
 The Falchion in her grip shakes, then tightens.
 This is her enemy, she convinces herself. This is the enemy that almost brought the world into ruin. That almost revived a powerful dragon God all for the sake of rebuilding an idealistic world. If she wasnât fast enough, the ground she stood would have long been swallowed by foolishness and greed.
 But alas, as victory seems so close in her grasp, the pain in her chest continues to plunge deep, deep, deep into the pit of her stomach.
 Her vision starts to blur.
 âG-ive up.â Her voice stutters. Teeth clenches hard. âYouâve lost. Your general is dead.â Falchionâs tip is pointed, aimed directly at his fallen gaze. âYour army will soon either join him or surrender to the Kingdom.â The sword shakes again. âYour pawn is gone. Itâs over.â
 Itâs over.
 ItâsâŠoverâŠ
 Words are absent from a broken man. Palms press coldly into the thick soil. Spine aches horribly at the bent, still position he is in.
 Without a word, he finally looks up.
 Tears roll down her cheeks to see such a lifeless man.
 The shine in his eyes are gone. The ring of his laugh has disappeared. Blood trickles down his cheeks. Dirt and sweat cover the gaping wounds on the corners of his eyes.
 The friend she loves is gone now. The friend she once trusted has died along with the dragon.
 He doesnât fight back. He doesnât want to. Head slowly tilting left and right, he tries to bring his gaze to the chosen hero. Grief strikes his face at the death of his ideals. Despair swirls in his eyes at the loss of his world.
 And yetâŠas he finally looks at her, at White, N finds that the pain he feels right now is absolutely, horribly, unbearable.
 White⊠Her name stings so much.
 Falchion is raised to the side, frozen in place. Both look at each other, silent and blurred.
 The echoes intensify with the sound of skin and bone being sliced apart.
The warmth felt soothing in the tent.
Slumber released its grip on Bede first. A yawn escaped his mouth. One arm stretched to the side, in which he then flinched to feel the ache on his back. Though the tent was perfectly cosy, the Gym Leader groaned stubbornly to feel a faint flash of light through the clothed window.
Right. Right!
Realization of last night dawned upon him like a splash of cold water. Quickly he looked to the side, pupils shrunk then dilated at the sight of snoozing woman. Her head comfortably rested on his bare chest. One arm was draped around his stomach, while the other stretched downwards between her body and his.
That might be numb later, he chuckled.
Arceus, his body ached. But not once did regret flash across his face. Instead a goofy smile curled each corner of kissable, bruised lips. His left arm draped above her head. Thankful that his other arm was free, Bede took the chance to take all of it in.
She was beautiful. Ethereal. Magnificent in every way. From the passionate way she battled to the confident way she brought herself, there wasnât a single fault the man could find when it came to her.
Maybe this was whatâs it like to fall in love, he wondered.
A finger gingerly traced the side of her face, down, down until he stopped at her lower lip. How soft. How kissable. Warm air brushed the tip of his index finger. His smile broke down to faint, silent laughter.
âI love you tooâŠâ
Joy rang in his heart. âI love you, GloriaâŠâ He wished to say it to her. Again and again so that she could never forget. Carefully he placed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of her head.
Those words would forever play in his mind and heart until the end ofâ
âGloria! Breakfast time!â
Oh fuck.
Without waiting for a response, the flapped entrance of the tent was ripped open. Shock immediately had Bede jolt upright. Startled by such an aggressive wake-up call, Gloria fumbled herself awake and sat in complete stupor.
âWhaâ?â Like a sleepy fool she stared blankly at her impatient starter.
Ares merely kneeled in the entryway, head tilted and eyes blinked at the two naked humans before him. âI said itâs breakfast time!â But that didnât bother him much. As long as his best friend was safe and happy, thatâs all that matters to him.
Besides, it was about time anyways.
His nose twitched at the scent of sex and afterglow that thickened the air in the tent. âOofâŠâ Quickly he shook his head, growing quite uncomfortable at the natural smell. âWellâŠâ Fiery eyes stared at the human who seemed more awake than his trainer. âWhen she wakes up fully, can you tell her itâs breakfast time? Iâm starving and Dimitri is more than ready to knock down the closest berry tree.â And with that, Ares left.
With a message that Bede had no idea considering all the man heard was chirps and squeaks.
âMmmâŠâ
Stupor popped to shock, and Bede turned his attention to the slightly sleepy woman.
Her body was free from any blanket. Every hickey, every mark could be seen in board daylight like a form of art.
Ah, his body felt hot again.
Rubbing her eyes to bring her back to reality, Gloria finally looked at the tall man. It took her a few seconds to realize that he was naked, that she was naked, and that they had slept togetherâfiguratively and literallyâlast night.
This was surely one of the days where she was awake the fastest.
Red splashed their faces once reality kicked in full. None said a word. Both looked away.
âUmâŠâ She laughed shortly, dumbly, before biting back in fear that it might offend him. âIâmorning.â
âMorning.â Was all he managed. Good. She was just as shaken as him.
Shaken. And hopefully thrilled too.
âListenââ
In unison they both spoke, then stunned to silence as they stared at each other.
Silence was now their favourite form of communication.
Feeling nervous of such a gaze, Gloria brought her arms up.
âNoâŠâ
Before she could cup her chest, the Champion instead blinked in surprise at the touch of his hands.
And just when she thought he was done with surprises, Gloria squeaked a meek squeak at the feel of her body being pulled to an embrace. âBedeâŠ?â Confusion lulled her bruised lips. Face now nuzzled on his neck, she peeked up, trying to cast a glance at the now blushing man.
Man, was he so cute.
âFirst off,â he started, voice muffled on her hair, âI didnât regret what we did last night. I never will.â Carefully he positioned himself until he crossed his legs. Taking the opportunity of her surprise, Bede ushered her until she sat cosily in his lap.
She was warm.
âIâŠâ Arms tightened around her. Hands lovingly caressed up and down her back, her arms. âI love you, Gloria. A lotâŠâ More than he ever expected. âI donât know exactly when it started, but I figured itâs long when we were rivals in our gym challenges.â Here it was again; the shameless act of him pouring his heart out to no one but her. She truly did have such a talent on him, didnât she?
He wouldnât have it any other way.
âYou were always there for me. You always supported me even when I was being such a prick in the early days.â Lips kissed the top of her head again. âAnd in time, you made me stronger and showed me ways to learn to be better.â Traced down to her forehead. âYou showed me my future.â To her eyelids. âYou showed me my new path.â To her nose.
âYou taught me how to loveâŠâ He stopped in front of her face, finally staring at the eyes he forever loved. âYou made me love youâŠâ Chu⊠âso take responsibilityâŠâ ChuuâŠ
His confession was a million arrows that pierced her heart. She trembled. Shook. Positively vibrated with excitement at the knowledge of his feelings.
Without a moment to waste, she returned his kiss. Just as blissfully. Just as overjoyed. Arms wrapped around his neck, slightly surprising him with her exuberance but never once planning to break their kiss anytime soon.
âI love you, BedeâŠâ She confessed between kisses. Lightly she brushed the tip of his nose with hers. âI love you a lot.â She was bad with words; they both knew this. But Gloria was more than happy to know that she got her emotions through him.
His smile was so genuine. So charming.
âIn that case,â He pulled back, yet arms perfectly locked around her bare waist, âI know this might sound stupid considering very recent events, but Gloria,â A smile, so confident and cheeky, curled his lovely lips, âwill you be my girlfriend?â
Her giggles were so cute. So adorable.
âOn one condition.â She lifted one finger, though hand still mindlessly caressing his bare neck and chest.
A single eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Both eyebrows however raised in a matter of seconds once she surprised him with a peck on the lips. âYou get to be my boyfriend.â
Oh how lively their lives would be around each other.
The smirk mellowed back down to one of a sincere smile. âDeal.â
END
 Her eyes were warm.
 âI care you tooâŠâ Her smile was enticing.
 Before he could respond, she reacted faster. Body acted out of pure instinct. Emotions guided where her heart would lead her to the rest of the night. Violet eyes widened were crimson irises hid behind eyelids.
 Her lips were soft, heart-stopping.
 It was short. Chaste. Too brief for their liking. Shame engulfed the Championâs body as she pulled back. Head tipped down slightly, hiding the embarrassment that burned red up to her earsâ
 She peeped a squeak when she felt trembling hands cupping warm cheeks.
 She sucked a gasp when she felt sweet lips pressed hard against hers.
 Her side shuffled closer. Tiny, callous hands tugged the front of his thin shirt. She felt soft lips, then sharp teeth as she huffed cold air. âBedeâŠâ His name was a prayer that sent his heart ablaze. If not for the feel of her palms pressing up to his neck, Bede wouldâve thought that she was rejecting this.
 But she didnât.
 Delicate fingers caressed his collarbone, his neck. The touch alone sent shivers down his spine, produced moans that slurred right into her sighing mouth. Their eyes were closed, focused, hyper-fixated on no one but each other. ChuâŠhe kissed her again, chuâŠand again. His tongue now had entered her hot mouth, tickling and inviting her own to a dance of pure, wet desire.
 Though hands were at lost and desperate as they gripped her face, Bede at least felt grateful to know that his legs knew what to do as they started to intertwine around hers.
 That sliver of confidence snapped when he felt her hips grind against herâheavily, slowly.
 For a place so bright, Hibiki is sure seeing stars.
 âUghâŠâ The throbbing in his head doesnât seem to stop. One hand rests on the side of his temple. Another groan slips weakly through quivered lips. âWhat happenedâŠ?â Grey eyes blink once and twice to register his surroundings. Bright light seems to tamper with his sight, but the man soon realizes that it is no longer the light from something mysterious; rather, it is the light from the sun.
 âWhat?â Stupor still clutches his rationality. Slowly he sits up, though utterly thankful that the dizziness is dissipating.
 âHibiki!â
 His shoulders jump at the voice, which then emits another low groan from the young apprentice. âKotoneâŠ?â Left and right he slowly shakes his head, then finally turns to the owner of the voice. Though bafflement falls heavy on his head, Hibiki is beyond relieved to see his friend by his side. âAreâŠAre you okay?â
 She looks better than him, and it would be no surprise that she is. âYeahâŠâ A small smile paints her face as reassurance. âIâm not dizzy anymore.â Left and right she looks around. âAndâŠI donât think weâre dead.â
 Silence hummed its melancholic melody. The stars above remained glinting, sparkling, baring as witnesses for the two teenagers that sat in still discomfort. One had her focus given to the bandaged wrist. One had his gaze torn away from such a pitiful, pitiful sight.
 None had said a word for the past 17 minutes. The sounds of ticks and tocks echoed in their minds. Her hands, delicate as they looked, skilfully applied the bandage with such precision. Sometimes he flinched at the accidental pressure, but nothing more as the boy continued to tear his gaze from such a tender touch. Her lips would often mouth an apology, and she continued on until she was sure that the wound was sealed and closed.
 He wondered if this was some sick fate. Some sick twisted joke from whatever deity that resided above. One minute, he was the proud child hand-picked by the chairman. He had it all. He was no longer the disgusting orphan that had to fight tooth and nail for his next meal, for his only shelter. He had everything in his grasp. And he was willing to do anything to hold on what was given even tighter.
 The next minute, everything slipped far too fast, far too much from his fingers.
