This one's for all you SommelierShippers out there. Even though I'm a big WishfulShipper, I love this ship too!
No, I do not own Pokémon.
Sometimes I wonder if the Pokémon Company International will ever ACTUALLY sue someone for not putting up a disclaimer. Or maybe if they ever HAVE.
Anyway. That's unrelated. On with the story...
... ... ...
Burgundy wanted to kick him.
She wanted kick him and she wanted to scream.
He saw her face flush and her eyes glint dangerously with fury, and rushed to calm her.
"Burgundy, please," Cilan said quickly. "I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"
"Yes you did!" she yelled, her face getting hotter and redder by the second while her tightly clenched fists now trembled with rage. She felt the tears coming, ready to spill. Angry tears. Hurt tears. "Yes. You. Did!"
Part of her was mad at him for trying to deny it. But another part of her wanted him to keep denying it, to tell her he really hadn't meant it, because that part was the part that maybe wished it wasn't so easy to just hate him all the time.
"I mean," he amended, cautiously, clearly trying not to offset her, "I didn't mean for it to... to go this far." The look in Cilan's eyes was apologetic - genuinely, truly apologetic.
But that just made Burgundy angrier. And now a tiny part of her was asking why she was getting mad at him for just being sorry.
She told that part of herself that it was because he didn't actually mean it - yes, that was it. He didn't mean it and she knew it. Cilan wasn't sorry. Cilan didn't even know how to be sorry. He was a stuck up A-Class who only wanted to ruin her life and -
And he had, hadn't he? He had ruined her life. And he just told her so.
Which was the whole reason she was mad in the first place: because he had ruined her life. And yeah, Burgundy knew he wasn't sorry for it. He wasn't sorry in the least.
"I don't care!" she yelled. "I don't care if you didn't mean for it to go that far! You're the one who filed that complaint and you ruined my life!"
Then she whirled around and raced up the stairs to the second floor of the Pokémon Center. That was where the trainers' rooms were. And she really, really hoped he wouldn't follow her up here.
But he probably would.
Silently, she continued to fume. She should have kicked him while she was down there. He was so... annoyingly... perfect. And she wasn't. And he ruined her life.
And it was all, completely, totally all his fault.
Burgundy curled her arms around her chest and tried to push back those tears.
Trying to distract herself and maybe calm down a little, Burgundy set on finding the room she was staying in. She had room number 203. Locating the door with the right number, Burgundy checked her pockets for the card key she'd been given.
She bit her lip. Where did that stupid key go?
Whatever the case, it clearly wasn't with her at the moment...
Suddenly realizing where it must be, Burgundy let out a short, angry breath. Of course. She had left it downstairs, on the front desk. Burgundy swore under her breath. Arceus, she was so stupid...
She was not going down there. Because Cilan was there, probably. And she was not talking to him. Under any circumstances whatsoever.
But then, maybe he had gotten his room key and was already in his room or on his way there... no. Burgundy could have slapped herself. Stupid - he would have to come down this corridor, the very one she was in, if he was going to get to his room.
She swore again, a little louder this time.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent corridor. Burgundy froze.
"My, what crass language for an aspiring connaiseusse."
Burgundy felt her blood boiling. Without turning to look at him, she muttered, "just leave me alone." Her tone was dark, but it wobbled ever so slightly, revealing the tears she so desperately wanted to hide from him.
He graciously ignored the fact that she was obviously on the brink of crying. "I believe you left this downstairs, actually. I think it may prove quite a problem not to have it, hm?" She heard jangling noise, and knew that Cilan must have been holding out her room key.
Burgundy folded her arms. She was stupid. So, so stupid. And frankly, there were a lot more words she could've used that were definitely much harsher than stupid...
Burgundy whirled around and snatched the key. She glared daggers at him, not bothering to say thanks as she angrily swiped the card through the slot. She kept her mouth set in a hard line, because she was not talking to him.
As she threw open the door and stalked inside, she was caught completely off guard by his hand catching her arm. Burgundy tensed up.
"What do you want?" she hissed dangerously, the waver still audible in her voice.
"I want," he said quietly, "for you to understand that I'm sorry. Honestly, truly sorry, Burgundy."
She lifted her chin to look him right in the eye and stopped.
She had never, ever seen Cilan Griffith wear that expression before. And she had certainly never imagined he would look at her like he did.
Burgundy almost didn't recognize the strange emotion he showed.
He was looking at her with genuine remorse in his eyes. He was, indeed, honestly and truly sorry. But that wasn't what stopped Burgundy - oh, no. What stopped her was the something else.
The something else that was in his eyes, the something else that froze her in her tracks, the something else that caused her to linger for just a moment longer.
She might have, still, despite that something else, pulled away and slammed the door in his face right then, if it wasn't for the fact that he still held her by the arm.
They stared into each other's eyes for just a moment. And Cilan was quite certain he saw something in her eyes soften, if just a little.
They kept staring. In absolute, utter silence. For just a few moments longer.
Then, carefully, he loosened his grasp, just a bit.
Burgundy yanked her arm away.
"I will never forgive you," she muttered bitterly.
"I know," he replied honestly. "You don't have to. Just as long as you know I'm sorry."
With that, Burgundy slammed the door in his face.
She heard him walk back down the hallway. Then she sunk to her knees against the back of the door and finally let the tears fall.
Three years. Three years of working so hard to become an A-Class, and all for nothing, because of that stupid complaint. The complaint that Cilan had filed.
So she had tried, years ago, to act like an A-Class for a day! So what? It was once, only once. But Cilan, that stupid - Burgundy muttered a few words under her breath - he had filed a complaint and now the entire association hated her. And after three years of trying so hard, she still wasn't an A-Class.
It was all his fault. He was the one who ruined her life.
Burgundy wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She was not crying. She was not. And she would have absolutely nothing to do with him. Never again.
Because he ruined her life - her stupid rival who would always be better than her, and whose eyes...
Whose eyes she thought looked kind of nice when he looked at her like he did.
Kind of.
Burgundy bit her lip.
Just a little.
Burgundy lifted her head and glanced around. She was a bit calmer now. Calm enough for the tears to stop flowing. Calm enough to try and sort out the mess that was her life. Calm enough that maybe she'd refrain from cursing Cilan's name.
But she definitely still wanted to kick him.
... ... ...
Well, that's that. Hope you enjoyed!