title: painting silver kisses
warnings:
I haven't finished the game yet so I'm basing this on facts I have gathered online. Please correct me for any mistakes that may have occurred.
notes:
Short and sweet and, more than anything, pointless.

It started with battling.

Every Monday and Wednesday she would come to fight and beat him, and when they were finished, he would insult and yell at her, and don't you dare come back again, you useless brat.

And then she would just sort of smile at him. It was a weird smile, because it seemed to convey thousands of patterns of emotions and thousands upon thousands of endings for their story, and her eyes were even weirder; giving him all the answers to questions he wouldn't have the guts to ask, ever.

She would never bid him goodbye, because that isn't how she handles things and she knows he hates matters without meaning, especially set phrases.

.

.

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It started with battling, but one Monday she came and ruined everything.

She had only one pokéball with her and at first he thought she was mocking him, but he promptly realised that this assumption was inaccurate, as she was polite and nice and this was something he would do.

He asked her what the hell she wanted here, but she ignored him,—she tended to do that a lot with him these days—took his hand and then they ran.

Although he would have liked to shout at her and knock her to the ground, or at least to shake her off, he couldn't. She was too fast and perplexing for his brain to function properly.

.

.

.

They camped in a forest that night; just them, the trees and the sky above them. It was pleasant, somewhat. He hadn't done this in a while.

They didn't talk much. He wasn't particularly good at it and she looked like she believed there was no need to. So they settled for stretching, awkward silences and occasional glances, both of which wouldn't get them anywhere, he was sure.

.

.

.

At 3 AM it began to rain. To say he wasn't disgruntled with this circumstance would probably be the biggest lie ever to be told, even more so, when she started singing and dancing around for no reason at all.

He didn't have to ask, oh no, but he couldn't resist her curiosity.

"What are you doing there?" he demanded, whilst trying to find shelter under his jacket.

She laughed and spun herself around, saying, "What are you doing there?"

It was, admittedly, an interesting question. "I'm being rational," he replied, uncomfortable with not knowing where this was going.

Closing her eyes, she let herself fall into the wet grass. "Rationality is so last century," she chuckled and dug her toes into the soil with relish.

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.

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It started with battling and continued with random trips to foreign places he'd never been to before.

One day she dragged him to another region called Sinnoh where they visited the local Elite Four, who she had beaten already long before, and the other they were heading to a small village just one stone's throw away from Ecruteak City to watch the annual fireworks festival.

She always had a plan of some sort and sometimes he wondered if he would ever have one.

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.

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It started with battling, developed and now—now it just is.

The sun shines heavily on them; keeps them on the ground, as they lie sprawled out on a meadow in the middle of Suicune knows where. They're both barefoot, their sandals forgotten somewhere in between mild summer showers and making out, and they don't think about tomorrow or yesterday or his doubts or her fears. Not even about today.

And, for some reason, he is happy in a rather strange, unconventional sort of way.

FIN.