A/N: My sister always tells me that when guys confess to her they somehow hear the word "no" as "convince me". That's generally the gist of it...
Mutual? Check. In denial? Check. Angsty? Check. One-sided? Okay, that's blank, we'll work on it.
"H-he's following, Snivy," Fennekin said timidly, brows furrowed. "I don't like it..."
Oshawott, you jerk.
Snivy wanted to make the said otter come out and let her slap him until he fell into his grave, but that wasn't happening. It appeared that he was stalking Fennekin—and not the lighthearted definition of "stalk", the real stalk when people follow you and you don't like it.
"Must have a crush on you, if he's that persistent," Snivy mumbled, tugging on her rucksack's strap. "Never mind, ignore him, Fennekin. He's just being a stalker and when you go home, tell your mom."
"O-okay." Fennekin walked alongside Snivy.
They were walking back home after they went out to the beach for an entire afternoon, and along the way, Fennekin spotted Oshawott following them. Snivy at first thought he was just walking the same path as them, but to confirm it, she made sure to go to a path no one took—and he followed all the way. There was no mistaking it, he was stalking Fennekin.
Eventually, they reached Fennekin's home and Snivy waved her goodbye. She sighed, relieved, knowing that Oshawott hadn't gone anything dangerous. She was a grass-type and could handle him quite well. She turned around to see the otter, standing behind a tree, a poor form of hiding.
"You made Fennekin scared. What's wrong with you?" Snivy had no time to be kind and polite. Impatient and cutting had always been her type, anyway. She turned herself fully to face him and burned her glare into him.
"...O-oh, you s-spotted me," Oshawott said quietly.
"You were following us, weren't you?"
"...Yes."
"I'm going to report you to the police. I can't have you following little girls even if you're just a child, because it's dangero—"
"Please, n-no!" Oshawott begged, leaping out from his hiding place. "Please... don't do that! I h-have no intention of harming you or Fennekin! I-I respect personal s-space very much!"
"Then why were you following?"
"...I-I wanted to find a time when you and Fennekin would be separated... You see, I wanted to tell you something." Oshawott beamed, a faint pink forming on his cheeks.
Snivy sighed. She hoped this wasn't going the way she thought it would. "What is it?"
"Y-you see, I l-l-like you!"
Oh, dear Arceus, her prayers went unheard.
Snivy sighed and raised a paw, looking at the delighted sea otter in front of her. She tilted her head downwards and shook her head, and when she saw he evidently didn't understand, she folded her arms.
"Sorry, you're not my type." She wasn't going to be nice on this—why should she be?
"W-wha—?"
"What do you mean, 'What'?" Snivy said, cutting him off. "You're not my type, there's nothing more to that."
"B-but, I always read and heard in stories..." Oshawott faltered.
"In stories, not in real life, silly." Snivy snorted. "I don't like you."
"W...why?"
"'Why'? Isn't it obvious, 'why'? Because you're not my type," she said for the third time. "If I have to repeat myself anymore, I'm really going to slap you."
Oshawott looked at her with a determined gleam in his eyes. "Then I'll keep on trying," he declared. "If it's for you, I'll keep trying until you say you actually like me back!"
Snivy sighed.
Why did he have to take "no" as a "convince me"?
