There’s a certain peace Bede has come to recognize in the last few years. A peace he’s never felt before. He had a home, a place he belonged, and a newfound sense of purpose. And whilst that meant nothing to his work ethic, continuously pushing himself to strive for more, it just meant that he felt comfortable.
For once.
But it’s in this peace of knowing he finally had a place to belong, that emotions soon started coming to the forefront. Emotions he didn’t know how to handle or cope with.
At first it was familial love.
At the orphanage there was none of that. Just one of hundreds of mouths they had to feed and clothe. And there was a constant battle inside of him; the need to be noticed for his successes, his intelligence, his prowess over the other children and the internal rage when he wasn’t picked. Constantly overlooked by adults and by insufferable children.
Fights, arguments, never caused by him, but he sure didn’t mind finishing them with a sharp tongue or a hard fist.
And then came his opportunity in the form of the Chairman. Familial love is what Bede thought they had. The interest in him, the support, the praise. But it was only temporary, an equal exchange until he became useless. Dropped right then and there at the first sign of trouble.
To be ridiculed and left abandoned. Alone. Just like the beginning.
That wasn’t love.
But the warmth he felt from his Pokemon? The kindness, though strange and tough sometimes, from Opal--these were both a form a love he wasn’t accustomed to. And what was it like to just know, to just accept these feelings, and to not have constant fear that he wasn’t enough. That this wouldn’t last.
How was he supposed to share his appreciation and the desperate attempts to keep things as they were.
What did he have to prove? To give? To show that he was good. That he could behave. That he could do great things. That he was not a failure.
That he was worthy of love.
Enter Gloria.
Who turned every grasp he had on himself and the world on its head. He knew it didn’t start off well. All the negative associations he had with her--how effortlessly talented she was, how utterly plain she was, how she of all people could garner the attention of someone he so desperately wanted that from.
But she was sweet. Sickeningly so. And she held her head up high at his bite, at his bark, and at all the sharp accusations and prejudices he could hold over her.
It was a challenge unlike any battle he’s had.
“I’m not nice,” he remembers muttering at one point, unsure of why Gloria was so desperate to get to know him. To be friend him. Because she’d leave once she knew how broken he really was. Everyone always did.
He remembers her humming for a moment, eyes flickering to him.
“You don’t have to be.”
Looking back on it he’s not sure he could’ve ever imagine all of that push back he had turning them into this: Gloria currently laying on his torso, in his cottage for the afternoon, tea gone cold, and both of them reading as the rain outside turned into soothing background noise.
This was pleasant.
He could handle this .
“Are you okay, Bede?” her book making the softest thump as it lands on her lap, her head tilting up to gaze up at him. Her voice pleasant and welcoming, her concern making his heart squeeze in a way only she could muster.
Bede leans down without a worry, lips pressing a chaste touch to her forehead. He chuckles at the giggle that leaves her.
“Never better.”
He nearly expects her to smile, get comfortable again, go back to her book. But instead she shifts her body entirely to look at him properly. Head now on his chest, cheeks squished against her arm. She seemed almost giddy in the way her eyes were lit up.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
Bede’s eyebrow quirks, a silent prompt for her to continue. He hears her steel herself with a minuscule inhale and even smaller exhale. Sees her really set her sights on him as amber meets amethyst. He thinks he hears his book fall. Thinks he hears thunder. Thinks he hears his name.
“I love you.”
Knows for sure he heard that.
It's written all over her face. Gloria's been wanting to say it for a while, the feelings welling up inside her like a secret she just had to get out. Overwhelming, but the good kind. The kind that made her heart clamor in her chest with excitement. The feeling that her walking with an extra bounce in her step when they held hands. The flutters when he kissed her. The way her mind always thought of him and her lips would react with a smile. She loved him. She wanted him to know. And It wasn't the first time she's thought about saying it, not at all, but every moment felt too pressured, too thought out. And there was something so subtle about all their affections, something they only understood, that Gloria knew she had to tell him when the moment was quiet. Just them. Private and affectionate.
But she watches his eyes grow wide.
A minute passes. A minute too long.
She can feel her smile drop ever so slightly.
“Gloria...I’m not sure…”
He’s pulling away from the discomfort. She’s sitting up to let him. Before he knows it she's no longer touching him. There’s a distance. His heart loud and his brain angry. He’s ruining things, always ruining things.
And it doesn’t show on his face--the chaos that this just caused. He’s never been good at expressing himself, while Gloria though so controlled let him into the the part of her that did expose her feelings.
He couldn't bare to look at her and yet he couldn’t look away. Noticing how her eyes are despondent, but her smile is too kind and filled with a love he couldn’t handle. His lips part to try to explain what was going on, he knew he cared, he knew he felt something towards her that was fond--
“You don’t have to say it back you know,” her voice too calm. Too collected.
It used to drive him insane how little he could read off of her.
Her hand is firm and steady when it lands on his thigh. And Gloria is so strong, so resilient.
“I said it because it's true, you make me happy Bede.”
She can feel herself steadying, but she's neither angry nor upset. Truthfully, there was a secret part of her that knew that Bede wasn't ready. It took them this long to get to the point. Years of building up trust and a bond...it wouldn't make sense and she wasn't going to put it against him. Disappointment settles, and it stings, but her efforts to reach out and hold onto what she had with him stayed as strong as ever.
"This doesn’t change the way I feel about you."
But he doesn’t know how this love she had for him is supposed to feel; nor when the change was supposed to happen. A couple months in like it had for her, while he just feels... content? Or does it happen when it’s too late and patience has run dry?
The couch shifts under her weight. Her lips touch his cheek.
“Do you want me to go?”
She knew him far too well. Had learned from the moment she reached out to him in Stow-on-Side. Knew he liked his space, but he also liked her. Her presence. Wanted to keep her close. But right now?
His throat feels parched. His body heavy. He shakes his head slowly.
“It’s pouring outside, Gloria.” That was all he could say.
And she laughs as lightly as ever.
“You always did say I was like the plants I tend to,” she shrugs, “and they all need a little rain sometimes.”
Bede’s not sure how she’s handling it at all, watching for a sign as she puts on her boots and slings on her bag. She looks up at him sheepishly when she’s done.
“I should’ve listened to you about that rain coat, huh?”
And it’s without hesitation that he reaches over her towards the coat hanger. The nylon of his magenta jacket slinging heavily across her shoulders. Usually he walks her home, if not to the taxi stop, but for now this is the most he could do.
She’s tiny in his clothes. Her arms slipping into the sleeves that are several inches too long as he zips her up. Collar nearly covering her face. It doesn’t cover her expression, tinged with a hint of sadness. Her hands trying to escape the confines of his jacket to grab a hold of his hands.
Almost desperately.
“I’ll call you when I’m home,” she whispers.
He kisses the top of her head.
His actions speak volumes. As do hers.
“Please do,” taking too much note on how she squeezes before letting go.
--
Gloria is hit by the immediate warmth of her apartment. Her hair is dripping all over the floor, her hands rubbing for warmth, and his jacket protective even when he couldn't be there with her. It's rain soaked, yet reminiscent of his cologne. She should be taking it off but her face nuzzles into the collar instead her hands dipping into one of the many pockets to find her phone.
She could message him that she was home, maybe he'd prefer it, but she calls instead. Her teeth chewing on her bottom lip, listening to the dial tone come in and out of the receiver in sync with her heart.
"Hello?" his voice is hoarse, but she smiles even though he couldn't see it. She tells him she got home safely, asked if Miss Opal was back, thanked him for his jacket, asked to stop by tomorrow to return it.
Nothing seemingly strained nor forced.
At the end of the call she asks if she can say it again.
So he listens and she knows he cares.
And Bede knew when the moment was right, and he finally knew his feelings wholeheartedly, he was sure to tell her.
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