"Good. I assure you if you even think to 'carry me' anywhere, it'll be the last thing you ever do." The threat doesn't carry much weight. Philippe is the only person he trusts with... well, anything.
He puts his glasses back on his face with a sigh. A couple hours sleep ought to be enough. These papers weren't going to read themselves, and the clients weren't likely to wait, either.
He knows he wouldn't.
The numbers blur together on the paper, and he blinks a few times, trying to make them reassemble themselves. There's a cold sweat beading on his neck and brow that he truly hopes isn't here to stay. He's had six meetings today, extended visits to the battle zone for the last few nights- he had to keep his rank up somehow- and he has these contracts to read over and sign, and his next challenge match for the Royale is supposed to be in barely even ten hours...
He thinks...? What time was it supposed to be, again? Damn it, he can't even keep his thoughts straight anymore! And why is it so damn cold! He's getting pissed off.
"Philippe, turn th' heat up, wouldja?" he slurs, and it's with a distinctly Johtonian twang to his speech he usually suppresses. A leader ought to talk clearly and cleanly, he's always thought. People in Kalos cared about that sort of thing, after all.
“Harmony, wait just one moment,” Philippe said with a concerned frown, putting a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. He hated hearing her talk negative about herself. She was such a brilliant young woman. She was kind, clever, and an excellent trainer. Why did she insist on talking down on herself in this way?
“I understand that you don’t want me to acknowledge what you said that day,” Philippe began, meeting Harmony’s eyes seriously, “but please don’t think I’d ever mock you for it. Believe it or not, I actually like you. Quite a bit, actually. You’re a formidable trainer, one that should be respected, as well as feared by those who attempt to hurt you and the ones you care for. You’re a sweet girl too, and you defend the ones you love with a ferocity unlike I’ve ever seen before.”
He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “…I don’t think I could have taken those assailants down like you did. You saved Mr. Corbeau’s life. I wouldn’t have commanded my team with the cleverness and creativity that you did yours. I would have fought them with all of my strength… but sometimes, brute strength just isn’t enough. Sometimes, a sharp mind is what’s needed, and you’ve got that in droves.”
He set the sweets to the side, pulling Harmony into a hug. “Please don’t ever feel like you’re lesser than for loving others with such a Pyroar’s heart. Thank you for being the Syndicate’s secret weapon. I don’t know if Mr. Corbeau would be alive today if it wasn’t for you.”
‘I actually like you’ Her instincts told her to reject the truth in this statement. Surely it was a ruse, or a manipulation. What was there to like about her?
In spite of her reluctance to show it, she liked a lot of people in this city. So many kind, brave, strong people to be met. In this city filled to the brim with extraordinary individuals, she couldn’t help but wonder just what he thought was so special about her. Her inability to be honest had hurt so many. None of which deserved it. Now Philippe was added onto that list.
But he didn’t even give her a chance to deny him before knocking the wind out of her with what could have only been a painful confession. Harmony knew better than anyone just how deeply he cared for his charge. Corbeau was the center of his world. There was surely no worse humiliation than admitting he had been inadequate.
He’d push himself this far just to comfort her?
Philippe pulled her into a hug and she didn’t even have it in her to feign discomfort. All at once his body heat seeped through her limbs, filling in cracks in her heart she’d long since forgotten about and warming parts of herself she didn’t even realize were cold. She found herself completely overwhelmed by the ferocity at which he loved.
‘Heart of a Pyroar’ Harmony liked the ring of that.
Philippe spoke as if loving people in and of itself required some kind of bravery. The second the thought occurred to her she wondered if that had been the missing piece she’d been searching for all along. Maybe there was no special technique she could study to take care of those she held dear. Maybe all it required was a push to do something a bit scary.
Her gaze slid to him, and for a moment she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. If there was bravery to be had in loving, maybe Philippe wasn’t one of the strongest men in Lumiose because of the size of his muscles.
“I actually like you very much too Philippe,” Harmony summoned all the courage she could muster. She was scared, but as she always said ‘she could get scared later’
He idly listens to the muffled conversation in the next room, not particularly paying much attention to his work.
The ultra-spicy Fire Blast Curry from the café sits steaming on the table as though taunting him. It won't be warm for long. In fact, if they return with it, it would almost certainly be thrown away.
There's a certain voice in his head, screaming the same four words at him.
DO NOT WASTE FOOD.
... It sounds suspiciously like his younger self- who once spent many sleepless nights huddled in alleyways with Venipede for warmth, so hungry it hurt.
He immediately drowns that tiny voice in his mind, but it continues.
Well... he should at least try it. He scoops up a small spoonful of the vegetables, rice, and red-coloured sauce, tasting it.
Philippe paused, color rising in his cheeks. How could she say such a thing unironically? She and Urbain had done nearly all of the work to save Lumiose from Ange! What had Philippe done? Not much.
“You flatter me, but… I don’t deserve such a title,” Philippe finally replied. “The title belongs to you and Urbain. Everyone else was just your support. I’m proud to have made a difference in that situation, but… the honor for taking Ange done is not mine.”
"Do you take me for the kind of fool that gives meaningless praise?" Her words were accusatory in nature but there was no malice in her expression or tone. Far from anger, it saddened her that he failed to see the heroicism in his actions that day.
"You are more than worthy of the title. While the rest of the city evacuated, you and your comrades gathered to protect your home. If even one of you hadn't been present I'd have failed in my mission, point blank. Hold your head high as a hero. If not of Lumiose, then as mine," There was no sentimentality in the way she spoke. True to her word, she had no intention of singing praises. She was merely speaking fact.
