I did it again, but this time it’s perfectworldshipping. I haven’t been in school for 3 years, so my science may be a little rusty. If my analogies or metaphors are confusing, feel free to ask me what in gods name the words I write are supposed to mean. Just, yeah. Sorry for any ooc-ness, buut it’s a two year gap. People change. Shit happens, man.
The rays of the rising sun had begun to make their way through Lumiose, heralding songs from both tamed and wild bird Pokémon alike across the city; coaxing those slumbering out of their stupor. While some threw their blankets off and sat up, others groaned and pulled the covers over their heads, and a great many more remained undeterred in their sleep. A few others however, were not so lucky.
Among the unlucky was Lysandre Fleur-de-lis, who had been torn from his rest by the light reflected from the god awful (in his opinion) pastel shade of the walls surrounding him. "Ugh..." He groaned as he sat up, rubbing the heels of his palms over his unopened eyes. 'What was I thinking when I let Augustine choose the colour of paint for the bedroom?' Lysandre lamented, turning to his partner and scowling, envious as he watched the professor still sleeping soundly.
Sliding his legs over the edge of the bed, Lysandre stood and stretched, knowing that once he was awakened he remained so, whether he liked it or not. Making his way to the en suite bathroom, he briefly debated pulling Augustine out of the bed and onto the floor; if he had to suffer being disturbed from his sleep, then so should his partner for his poor choice of décor. A smirk pulled at his lips at the somewhat humorous idea, until he recalled the relationship advice Malva had given him some time ago: "Try to be less of an asshole." She had told him as though it were the most obvious thing. Which it probably was, but Lysandre would never admit that out loud. He knew better now; both about Augustine and about himself as a person, especially after what he had tried to do two years prior... Attempting to wipe all living creatures off the face of the Earth, save for Team Flare.
Lysandre bent over to give the sleeping man a kiss on his forehead, who smiled and nuzzled further into the blanket in response. As he went about taking a shower, Lysandre's thoughts had wandered back to that particular train of thought; the chaos his mistake had caused and the darkness he held inside of himself at the time. He had stopped himself before his thoughts became particularly unpleasant, thankfully. After a rigorous cleaning, the large man dried himself off and left the en suite. With a towel around his waist he sighed deeply, thinking of an outfit to wear; taking into consideration the fact that he had no scheduled appointments or meetings today business wise, he decided he should go casual. Looking towards the bed he noted that Augustine had still not woken up, but he was laying diagonally across the bed now.
Fetching a fresh pair of boxer shorts out of his top left dresser drawer, Lysandre shook his head, smiling. 'Figures,' he thought, 'you are as oblivious in sleep as you are awake, you ridiculous man.' Walking over to their shared walk-in closet, he pondered the likeness of his lovers' personality in contrast to his own. He opened the double doors, chuckling at the thought, 'I suppose it is true what they say, that opposites attract. Not that it really matters in reality, but there is some symbolism there.'
Upon inspection, Lysandre chose a pair of navy blue jeans, loose enough that they followed the shape of his legs, yet not so tight they hugged his body uncomfortably. He then reached out to pick a plain t-shirt of light aqua blue with a slight V-neck to wear, to match the simplicity of the jeans. While in contrast to his hair, the green hint in the colour itself muted the blue so the contrast was visually appealing; too bright a blue and the contrast to his ginger 'mane' (as Augustine lovingly called it) would have appeared gaudy. Leaving the closet, he picked up the pair of black socks he had placed on his dresser minutes earlier. As if a man of his immaculate mannerisms would own white socks; they became unsightly far too soon and no matter how many times you wash them after the fact, even the smallest stains remained, stubbornly.
Making his way down to the first floor where the kitchen was located, Lysandre laughed dryly at his own internal monologue, 'Oh, look. The day has barely started and I have already engaged in a ridiculous nuance with myself. Augustine would be so proud.' As he left the hall leading from the stairs to walk into the living room he spoke aloud, traipsing on, "That man will never cease rubbing off on me," crossing the doorway into the kitchen, Lysandre continued in a melodramatic tone and rolling his eyes mockingly, "Oh, the price I pay for loving you, you brilliantly absurd Pokémon professor." He'd have made a point he was jesting, though it seemed moot, as he was the only one present.
Lysandre went about putting together the ingredients to make crepes for breakfast while his thoughts carried on. Truly, there was no price for loving Augustine; if anything, the professor was the one paying a price for being with Lysandre himself. Where Augustine Sycamore was selfless, kind, and basically a visual representation of optimism, Lysandre Fleur-de-lis was ruthless, controlling, and pessimistic; the yin to the yang that was the two of them, even though Lysandre was a better person than he had been.
Realizing he had spoiled his own appetite with the subject, Lysandre decided to delay making breakfast until his lover awoke from his apparently deep slumber. Instead he put the kettle on to make some tea to help with his now agitated nerves, perhaps lemon balm, and sat down at the table. Try as he may, his mind would not slow down, so he simply sat at the table stewing in his own negativity.
After a while on a loathsome train of thought, Lysandre became frustrated at himself. Realizing he had given in to his own mind, he brought his fist down on the table, growling lowly. He had to stop thinking like this! It wasn't healthy to dwell on such negative thoughts and emotions, and he didn't need his occupational therapist or Augustine to tell him that. It was a relatively obvious conclusion, albeit one he should have came to years ago.
*CLUNK*
Lysandre jumped suddenly, a clear ringing threw him from his internal state of turmoil to an external one. Standing up, he whipped around to face the direction the sound had come from all in one motion. He came face to face with a bug-eyed, bedraggled Sycamore, who had wrapped his housecoat tightly about himself, recoiling out of reflex.
The first to recover, Lysandre heaved a sigh, "Augustine," he breathed, "You scared the living hell out of me!" He put a hand to his chest, taking another breath to calm himself. It was far too early in the day for this.
"You?” Augustine started, "You nearly gave me a heart attack, slamming your fist on the table like that, did you even hear me say good morning when I came in!?" he exclaimed, his posture visibly relaxing as he reached sideways to remove the kettle from the stove just as it began to go off. “Arceus almighty...” He muttered.
The afternoon sun was high in the sky as Lysandre and Professor Sycamore walked leisurely down Route 4. The couple had ironed out the fiasco from the morning, ending with a good laugh on how they had both scared each other at the same time. Now the two were on their way to Santalune city to meet Malva and Diantha at the local café. It seems today the other couple opted for the small city's quieter café, tired of the onslaught of fans that prowled around their usual café of choice in Lumiose, which became worse lately with the sudden spike in tourism.
Sycamore was laughing as Lysandre told him about the idea of his from the morning, which concerned yanking a certain snoozing professor out of the warm bed and onto the cold floor. "You said you could care less what colour the bedroom was, as long as it wasn't neon paint or any kind of wallpaper!" The professor recalled with amusement, shrugging helplessly. "That's what you get for leaving the curtains open last night." He tutted, while his lover sulked and made a point to turn his head the other direction.
Slipping an arm around Lysandre's waist, Augustine's voice lowered, "Mais vraiment, l'amour, what had you so troubled this morning?" He asked softly, his voice carrying concern.
Lysandre's grin faltered at the question, he had hoped the other had forgotten, but by now his professor knew him all too well. "I just," he began, "I had some rather distasteful thoughts this morning," nervous yet determined, the taller man faced Sycamore, "I still fear that I cannot escape from the darkness that has consumed me over the course of my life." he admitted, his pace slowing.
At the response, Augustine squeezed the arm he had around Lysandre reassuringly, craning his neck slightly to place a kiss on the paler mans' cheek. "But of course you can, chéri." He explained, "Darkness works along the same principles as do shadows; they exist because there is something in the path which impedes light travelling from reaching or penetrating it."
Lysandre blinked, mulling over Sycamore's words. "But I am like darkness, I can only move around the light, I cannot face it." he stated, gazing at Sycamore with something akin to defeat in his clear blue eyes.
"Non," the Pokémon professor said sternly, staring into eyes of ice with his own pale irises; the grey like that of clouds heralding a storm. "Lysandre, you always think of yourself as the darkness, but you are not. You have a shadow, though it's in front of you, so there is light somewhere, your existence is proof of that! You just need to move forward, leave your shadow behind you, you are what the light is trying to reach." The professor stated.
Lysandre was taken aback by his lovers' words, though still doubtful he questioned, observing. "Even so... My shadow is cast from me, so am I not in some fashion, an obstacle?" His gaze became uncertain as his eyes surveyed the ground at his feet.
Sycamore smiled at the (usually) imposing man, "Non, again. Because obstacles are a hindrance and, as the person that truly loves you with everything they have and everything they are, I can assure you that you are in no way a hindrance, Lysandre." He stopped walking, and smirking at Lysandre he whispered, "And I'll tell you a secret." The man in question raised a brow, silently prompting the other to divulge this 'secret'. What does that even mean?
Augustine stepped forward, knowing he had the other mans' full attention, he spoke, "I'm sure you know colours are also a form of visible light, which travel at different wavelengths. So, life is light and it's made up of the colours that come from it, and you know what?" the professor paused, grabbing Lysandre's hands in his own, "I'm a colour, Lysandre, and you found me. Even in the midst of the darkness, you still managed to see me from the shadows, and I saw you there. You reached your hand out into the light, and my wavelength was enough to reach you. And Since then, you have seen so much colour and it has helped you come out of the darkness, and you were the one who sought it," placing his hands on either side of Lysandre's face, Augustine took a deep breath, "So give yourself some credit. Colour is what makes up light, the light that you see. Darkness will always be there because without it, we cannot distinguish what else exists; and It's the same with light. Do not worry about being completely consumed by the negative; you have the vision to see the positive, and the colours will be there to help when all you see is darkness, or light but no colour." Sycamore finished, smiling softly up at Lysandre.
Lysandre smiled down at the professor as well, "Thank you, Augustine, for sharing that... Secret, with me." He spoke, at a loss for more words, and gave his professor a soft kiss on the lips, embracing him as he did.
The two men stood for a few minutes, continuing to kiss slowly, lovingly, before Lysandre pull away just enough to look at Augustine's face, "I love you so much, Augustine, and I have never felt as much happiness in my life as I have since you have been by my side." He pronounced.
"I love you all the same, Lysandre. Always." Sycamore said in response, both men letting each other go. Just as they began to walk again, he added, " As long as you are happy, I am happy as well. And even when you are not, I will be there to shower you with the happiness you deserve." Holding hands, the couple continued further down the route, content.
The couple walked on in peaceable silence, listening to the sounds of Pokémon in the maze of flowerbeds nearby as well as the voices of trainers in the distance. They were nearing the end of the route when one of them spoke up again.
Staring ahead, Lysandre had a thought, "Though since we see visible light through our eyes, that does make me wonder..." He trailed off, gazing at the brick fence marking Santalune city.
"Wonder what?" Augustine asked, glancing at Lysandre with his eyebrows quirked. They had walked into the town, coming to a stop at the door of the café before he was given an answer.
Lysandre turned and stared at the professor with a blank expression on his face. "Were your eyes closed when you picked that colour out for our bedroom walls?" he inquired, deadpan as he opened the door to the café. Leaving his partner at the door for a moment standing in confusion and shock. The imposing man walked in, smirking while trying not to laugh.
Sycamore finally made sense of the remark and ran in after Lysandre, "Just for that, we're keeping it that colour!" He called as he caught up to the man, laughing.
