"Will you taste this?" She spoke with a quiet purpose that had Cilan's heart aflutter. The pot she was seated before was huge and boiling above a makeshift campfire; she held a wooden spoon tightly in her left hand. "No wait," she pursed her lips, holding a hand up to stop him from coming any closer. He could smell vegetables; see little chunks of carrots floating in the broth. She had spent time meticulously cutting the carrots into tiny pieces. There were potatoes and tomatoes, all diced nearly as neat as the carrots. It was her own version of vegetable soup and she was hesitant with her spices. "Now?" She tilted her head back to peer at him, feeling unsure: tiny in the scope of the big world.
Cautiously, Cilan took the spoon from her lax grip and dipped it into the pot. Blowing on the top of the liquid before sliding it into his mouth, he hoped it had cooled some. He expected her cooking to be like Chili's, or maybe he didn't, but he didn't expect what he tasted. He had had better tasting cuisine from all around Unova, but this was surprising. The soup smelled spicy, made his nose crinkle up, but when he tasted it, it was rich and cool. The spiciness never came, but he had watched her place into the soup a variety of peppers that could burn a man's throat thoroughly. He grew silent, taking the spoon from his mouth and handing it back to her. Her lips were still pursed anxiously.
"Iris, this-." He stopped himself, unable to find the right words to say. The grip she held on the spoon tightened when he began speaking, he barely noticed it. "Have you always been able to cook?"
The compliment wavered there, then floated on a breeze blowing south. Her shoulders slackened and she dipped the spoon back into the pot, reaching for a bowl. "Alder used to cook a lot. I just learned my favorites." Now her voice was reduced to a whisper and another wind sent a chill down his spine.
"It's delicious, Iris. Very interesting indeed." He smiled, accepting the bowl she held out to him. "Quickest way to a man's heart is…" The words escaped him as he realized what he was about to say and a conspirational blush stole over his features.
Another wind blew through, Iris could smell the ocean nearby and wondered how far away from home she was: how many miles? Cilan could walk to his home, but Iris was wandering. "Cilan?" She asked quietly, disrupting him from his own thoughts. "Does Striaton make a good home?"
He tilted an eyebrow, "For me, yes. Can't speak for others."
"Do you think it'd make a good home for me?" She asked.
"You don't seem at home anywhere currently; the Land of Dragons seems like your home."
"I'm at home here." She replied, then hastily added, "Out here, with the stars and the Pokemon: the nature."
Cilan looked up at the sky as she did and then spooned some of her soup into his mouth. "Maybe the stars are your home?"
"That's a kid thing, Cilan. Home has to be people, places, things." Iris pouted, looking over at him. "Stars have the sky – what do I have?"
"Me. Ash. Alder. A whole world of possibilities." He reassured her, placing his slim hand on the top of her head.
"You look nice," he said with stiff, polite words. What he meant was that she looked older looked like she hadn't been in contact for years.
She frowned, touching the back of her hand to his cheek. "Not such a kid," she sighed. "Look at you. How's everything?" His lips pressed together tight. He didn't want to be so bitter. She continued, "Sorry. Ice is treating you like hell, I hear. Looks like Striaton won't make anyone a good home now." She wasn't mocking, her voice took on a melancholy tone: she was sad.
"We shut the gym down yesterday." He replied, looking up, "Not such a kid thing."
"I miss you," She slipped.
"Ask her," Ash said.
Cilan replied, "No."
She's grown so much: too much. Whispers follow her around and spread like wildfire until the whole Unova's heard about who she is. A dropout, a runaway, a champion. The whispers touch the outskirts of Kanto – celebrations occur. Ash phones over to congratulate her. Grimsley smiles slyly and shakes her hand. She receives gifts: proposals from strangers, extravagant things she doesn't need. For a moment, she's unable to be shattered, then she takes the world onto her shoulders.
Never had she wished to be a kid so badly.
There are strange men who Grimsley has to kick out and sometimes by force. Iris forgets how to love and instead learns to fear as the drunken men make grabs at her. She's tired by now and unable to sleep properly because she's lonely. Ash stops calling.
"Grimsley, Shauntal, I'm going out."
She returns to that hill; there's a permanent chill in the air now and standing here, she sees the ruined Striaton City and she starts to cry. Her dress whips and twists in the wind. Everything is cold and bitter here; she can taste romance still lingering in the dead grass, still hears the phantom laughter.
"I miss you," she says to the phantoms.
Ash married, it is aired on television and Iris watches from Chili's apartment. The apartment is empty, except for the boxes: he is moving in. She curls herself up against his side and he wraps his arms around her on his couch.
"I wanna get married," she tells him.
"Okay." He nuzzles closer to her and knows she isn't speaking of marrying him – maybe someone from her hometown; he doesn't care much for specifics.
She falls asleep on his couch and he dutifully covers her up and calls Cilan to tell him that he needs someone to watch the house because he doesn't have locks on his doors yet and he needed to run back to gather the rest of his things. Chili leaves and Cilan comes over to discover Iris there, sighing softly in slumber and waits until morning starts shinning through the curtains before digging Chili's coffee maker out from a box and fixing a brew.
The smell wakes her up, "Chili? I told you not to let me fall asleep here." She yawns, rolls off the couch and stretches.
Cilan feels awkward there and she spends some time rubbing her eyes before the disbelief turns to shock. Her voice catches when she tries to speak his name. "Morning, Chili went out."
"Yes."
"He had to move out considering –."
"Yes."
"Do you want me to leave?"
She doesn't want to hear anymore about Chili being a disgrace, but she doesn't want Cilan to leave either. Longing weighs her down and keeps her frozen there. "No, but Chili-."
"-did nothing wrong, but Cress asked this of him." Cilan tells her softly, his voice warm and familiar. She wants to wrap herself up in it; just the familiarity is enough to entice sparks in her abdomen. She takes a step closer. Then she is climbing over the couch, trying to get to Cilan before he disappears and once she is within reach, she freezes again. "Cilan…" Hesitantly, she leans forward until their foreheads are touching, noses sliding against one another, "You…"
Cilan's breath hitches as he flounders there, unable to properly respond especially with her this close after so long. "Wow," he whispers, then tilts his head so their lips meet in the smallest kiss.
Cilan wants things to go back to normal, but something hangs in the air around them, so he spends a lot of time around Iris, who smiles and watches over him with a close eye. Cress must be coping the worst, or perhaps Chili is, but Cilan is beside himself.
He's laying on the floor right now, looking up at the ceiling while Chili's voice comes from the phone next to him. Iris is listening in, but Cilan doesn't care because she already knows. "I'm sorry." Chili apologises lightly and not for the first time; Cilan hangs up and rolls onto his stomach.
"He's hurting," Iris whispers, "he needs you."
Cilan knows, they've had this conversation before. When he turns to face Iris, he smiles. "Marry me?"
Her heart stops and it isn't the first time he's asked, but this time he's caught her off guard. Normally he asks over dinner or while they are evaluating their bank accounts and speaking fondly about the future, but this time he's just sprung the question on her. She wants to say yes, but doesn't know how to get the word out into the open air. He adds, "Please."
And she says yes because this could finally be home.
Author's note: Highly aware, am I, of the fact this changes tenses halfway through, but I hope that doesn't throw anyone for a loop because there is supposed to be a subtle shift from past to present. Also, Chili's problem isn't meant to confuse, I would further divulge into what I originally planned for his problem to be, but it was not appropriate and might make some readers turn away, but if you really must know then you can PM me. This is kind of all over the place and is a spillage of Wishfulshipping feels, and I'll probably be working on something more in depth and detailed and less chaotic later next month.
