Cilan neatly placed the porcelain vase on the white shelf, his fingers tracing the rim gently as he let it go. The freshly cut lavenders from the garden that he and his brothers tended to at home really seemed to accent the atmosphere he was seeking. He checked his watch- only thirty minutes left. "Almost show time," he murmured, examining the room. Should he have bought that air freshener or would it have been too perfumed? He gazed down at his bowtie. Although to the untrained eye, it was his trademark bowtie, any educated guess should at least appreciate the suave style of the grenadine bowtie.
Trying too hard was not an expression Cilan familiarised with, especially not when it came to occasions like , his hand couldn't resist shaking as puffed out the wrinkled cushion.
He chuckled dryly at the thought of his so-called rival's face if she could see this. Pure mirth, he imagined. He recalled their encounter the other day…
He watched as she arose from her desk, her curls undone by her fingers' constant raking through them, her cheeks flushed. It brought a smile to his face to see how much effort she was putting in to her studies. Unlike before, there wasn't a scowl on her face either, which made it seem like a good opportunity for him.
"Greetings, Burgundy. How was class?" he asked her politely. She looked up from her satchel, and Cilan realised that somehow, no matter how she felt, there was a scowl perpetually reserved for him. Maybe someday, that'd change, though a selfish side of him seemed to oppose that wish.
"Great, learnt a few new techniques to annihilate you with." Cilan checked the door to see if it mentioned anything about assassination. No, just "Common Entry B Rank" was printed on the card. "Your exploration of the connoisseur course continues to fascinate me, Burgundy." he told her with lopsided smile.
"So, what do you want? I doubted you came over to hear me insult you, somehow." she responded, fiddling with a loose strand of hair.
"No, actually, it's something I'm rather proud to announce." Cilan noticed that usually Burgundy never makes eye contact with him unless she was declaring revenge or when she understands the serious undertone in his voice. The latter applied in that moment, and she analysed him attentively as he opened his mouth to divulge.
He skillfully whipped out the laminated card, and presented it to her with a flick of his wrist. She gingerly took it from him, and her eyes scanned the card carefully. Then he watched as her eyes rolled exasperatedly.
"Honestly, such arrogance… an invitation to the opening of your connoisseur shop? What gives you the right to believe your name's reputation is worth this prestige?" He held back the desire to laugh. Her brutality complimented his complacency a little.
"Actually, Burgundy, it's the status quo for any connoisseur shop to have an official opening. I'm surprised, I believe that is covered on the C-Class curriculum?"
That remark had its desired effect. Burgundy reeled back, a blush striking against her cheeks, as her mouth flapped open repeatedly, and nothing coherent coming out initially. She recovered, though she had to choke out the first syllable of her next sentence, "W-well I thought they'd make an exception in your case!" She quickly averted his eyes, choosing to focus on the card in her hand. Waving it at him brusquely, she scoffed. "Leaves?" she asked, referring to the tendril watermark that crawled along the border. "Oh, yes, I felt that the reference to my former post as a grass-type Gym Leader was a necessary addition."
He and his brothers were renowned as Gym leaders, and he realised some of his fans from that circuit may wish to see his departure made official. Burgundy scoffed, probably interpreting the gesture as something much less noble, Cilan imagined.
She glanced down at the card, and then slipped it into her trouser pocket. "Don't think this is a promise that I'll come," she spat before Cilan could even evaluate the gesture, "I just know that I should give even you this courtesy."
This caused Cilan to chuckle; Burgundy never chose an affable way to express herself. He enjoyed deciphering her language though, to find a much kinder person beneath.
"I really appreciate it, Burgundy." He stared directly into her eyes and smiled so she would realise his sincerity. "I hope you will be able to come. Well, I have a paper to finish, so see you soon." Aware that these words temporarily paralysed her, he strode away. He couldn't help subconsciously counting down the seconds until she would flush heavily, and her mouth would open. As soon as the string of curses directly at him ran down the corridor, he beamed, closing his eyes peacefully.
He opened his eyes, and found himself in his shop. Shaking his head a little, he glanced at the watch face. He had spent more time than he would have fancied reminiscing. The din of voices behind the curtain earlier could now be clearly heard, and they had certainly multiplied. His brother, Chili contacted him on the xtransceiver. Both of his brothers had offered to assist him, and he took it delightedly, sensing the symbolic gesture. "Right, one minute stand by, bro. Break a leg." He spoke gravely into the device, and his peculiar tone eased the connoisseur somewhat. "Chili, this isn't a performance… but I can't deny that the connotations are somewhat suitable!" Cilan joked, and then nodded solemnly to show his brother his conviction. He knew his transfer of professions had struck a chord within his brother's heart, and was adamant to show him that he hadn't wasted his feelings.
He heard his name being announced over the speakers, and took the cue. He gently pulled back the velvet curtain to reveal himself to those who proclaimed themselves as his most loyal fans, as they dominated the front of the queue, and strode over to the long red ribbon that separated them. However, he reminded himself, this was for more than himself and his fans. This was for his fans and their Pokemon, that they kept by their side.
"I'm honoured to join the participation of what I hope to be many future marriages between trainers and their Pokemon," he began, as the scissors was given to him by a shop attendant, "and I promise to provide an evaluation directly from the values of my heart." With this, he snipped the ribbon, allowing it to fall as the deafening applause rose from his guests and fans.
Before everyone began to adjust themselves in a more orderly fashion by forming a single lined queue, he gazed over rows of heads to see if a purple bombshell was amongst them. His heart fell, but he quickly developed a content façade. It was foolish of him to believe that, but as he chided himself, he noticed a man of small stature with lilac eyes, paying particularly close attention to combing his silvery mustache.
It was Cilan's turn to roll his eyes.