"Candice, are you psychopathically insane?"
She smiles then, scrunching her little bunny-slope nose and sticking her tongue out, in a way of saying, "Why yes. That she is."
"You can't go swimming in this weather! You don't go swimming in Snowpoint, period!"
"Volkner!" Her hands are on her hips now, blowing at a strand of hair he desperately wants to tuck back out of her face, "Of course you can! Zoey and I used to do all the time." Pausing, she glances up and down at him. He raises an eyebrow in return and mentally steels him for what comes next.
"If you're embarrassed to strip down, I don't mind. It's not like you're that small or anything."
It—this—she—everything! Maddening. Evenifitispossiblydamnadorabletoo.
"Wait. I know!" There's that conspiring nod of her head again, he notices despairingly, "Do you have Luxray boxers or something? 'Cause, you know, Jasmine told me about last Christmas—"
He kisses her.
(but only to shut her up)
It doesn't work.
'
'
peppermint winter
(till we end up with 45 new pairs of socks)
.
.
There is snow—god, it's freaking everywhere, what the hell is wrong this place—and trees and snow and even more trees.
But, right there, smack in the center, is a blur of white and blue and teasing giggles and probing fingers. It's perfect, really; and she's just naturally, endearingly, effortlessly beautiful.
(it'sakindofbreathtakingwonderfulhe'llneverreallyunderstand)
So he thinks maybe, perhaps, simply, it might be worth it.
That lasts about two seconds before he remembers that he's wading in white powder, wearing layer after layer while she's prancing about in nothing but a bright blue hoodie (that play up her eyes!, Flint's voice echoes) tied around her waist to keep the chill away.
He sighs. But what else is new.
Of course they had to choose her place to spend the holidays instead of Sunyshore; without the picturesque palm trees with rainbow lights and plus-size Santas in aloha shirts he's forced to put up as 'official gymleader duties' requested by Cynthia (Flint) and the city (Flint).
And, really, what girl doesn't want to spend her few days of vacation at beaches in sunny weather?
"Hey! Look, it's starting to snow again!"
He almost sighs again, but it's too late to do anything when she's suddenly next to him, tugging at his pockets for invisible hands.
Apparently this one.
.
.
Volkner goes sprawling over a suspicious root.
Curses. Mumbles. Curses some more. (Someone laughs. A camera goes off.) Scowls.
Then, they are quiet. She waits. He lumbers back on his feet. She waits. He shivers. She waits.
Waits. Waits. Wait.
But, where is Candice?
Where is Candice?
"Arceus! What the f—"
She stuffed snow down his coat. Absolutely brilliant.
Flint would have been so proud of his little protégé.
.
.
They're still silent minutes later. Comfortable, soft, light silence that's warm and fuzzy like peaches in spring. It almost feels like floating on top of the snow, cloudless and uncomplicated.
(truthfully, he forgives her too easily, and she likes her peaches feathery)
All it takes is a fluttery kiss on the cheek, draping her jacket over his shoulders, and she's free.
It's happier that way.
"I love you, even if you're kind of stupid, dense, sulky, boring, and an overall douche bag." Candice tells him cheerfully afterwards, bored of the stillness, making an angel beside his weary form. "Don't forget to take a picture, okay?"
Letting the corners of his mouth quirk up, running a hand lazily through his (blonde, not dirty) hair, he nods. "Yeah, whatever."
She snorts offhandedly at his noncommittal agreements. "You'll be going back to Sunyshore soon."
They are silent again, but his fingers curl around hers and she smiles. Warm. "It was good while it lasted." Her breath tickles, head fitting perfectly in the curve of his shoulder. They stay like that, lying on the blanket of snow and together.
"Sorry Candice is annoying. And childish. And, you know, not Jasmine." It's not a bitter confession, because she is not bitter, rather straightforward and honest and demonstrative just like the girl in his arms. "I tried. To be sweet and quiet and, well, shy. It was almost as bad as when I tried being cold and distant like a proper ice—"
"I don't care."
She blinks. "What?"
"I don't care, Candice, I don't."
And then, he's kissing her.
.
.
"Crap! I totally forgot!"
She pushes him off, scrambling back on her feet and wildly spinning around like a twisted windmill. Volkner grunts, confused and shaking off the snow being kicked onto him.
When she fumbles back down into sitting position with her messenger bag unzipped and spilling contents, he wonders what exactly was that important to stop their, um, session.
"Canned peaches." She says, handing him a Hello Skitty! silverware set. "They're a bit frozen, but still edible!"
Another container goes pop as it opens, and she presents it to him with a wistful look. "I have Zoey send me some whenever she can. I prefer peaches un-canned better, but the weather here is…"
"Screwy?" Volkner offers, in a deadpan voice. She laughs, a little wind chime sound that seems to float around them, and stares at him commandingly. "Now eat."
They do.
(because, hello, she would have broken up with him if he didn't like peaches)
.
.
finish
(we'll glide away into the night)
.
.
"Watermelons."
"Huh."
"Watermelons in summer. You have to eat watermelons or it's not really summer." He dusts snowflakes off her cheekbones and smiles, a tiny one. "We had peaches in winter, and we'll have watermelons in summer too."
The shattering grin on her face nearly makes his heart stop.
"Sunyshore has watermelons, doesn't it, Volkner?"
.
.
AN~ I've got mixed feelings about this one. I wanted to write something winter-related, but I think I have them out of character. But, I do love this pairing, despite how unlikely it is. Your thoughts, views, criticism would be marvelous. :) It's been a long time since I've been in the Pokemon fandom.
Happy Holidays everyone!
[This was inspired by Peppermint Winter by Owl City.]