Interrogation
"Miss Champion, you're free to enter," Officer Jenny's voice sounds from over the speakers, and before her, a door made out of solid steel starts to open.
As she catches the first glimpse of that stark, blue hair, Cynthia again finds herself wondering how they managed to capture him, the most wanted man in all of Sinnoh. He is a criminal mastermind, a genius in his own right. There's an ulterior motive behind every single move he makes. It makes her wonder if maybe this capture of his is somehow part of one of his many plans. The thought fills the champion with a sense of dread, but she forcefully pushes it away. She is not going to lose her nerve now. Not when he is only a few meters away, those calculating eyes of his already fixed upon her.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Cynthia enters the steel-clad interrogation room where the leader of Team Galactic awaits her by a bare table made out of steel like everything else in the room.
"Hello Cyrus," she greets him in a chilly voice, giving him a pointed look as she sits down in the chair opposite of him. "We meet again."
"Cynthia," he nods.
There is no greeting, no signs of recognition aside from his use of her name. For a moment she just sits there, staring him down and searching for any signs of the boy she met in her hometown all those years ago. But his face is void of emotions, his eyes hard and cold. Gone is the curious spark in his blue eyes, the defiant set to jaws. He eyes her calmly, waiting for her to speak. He is a master of patience, a skill Cynthia has never quite mastered. She has always rushed into things and dealt with whatever consequences there might be along the way. And he knows this.
"Did you get tired of running?" she asks him drily, referring to his current predicament.
His blue eyes are piercing, unrelentingly staring into her grey ones, and in the end it is Cynthia who looks away, pretending to study the tinted glass that makes for a one-way window for onlookers. But today, no one is watching from the other side of the glass. Cynthia had made it clear that she wanted to speak to him in private. She likes to think it was because she was going to be a badass interrogator, but in reality it was because she was unsure of how this was going to play out. The blue-haired man in front of her has a powerful air about him that has always intimidated her, though of course she'll never admit to this.
"Actually, I turned myself in," Cyrus says, and Cynthia looks back at him with disbelief written clearly on her face. "Besides, I am not the one running."
His words send a chill down her spine, confirming her suspicions from earlier. This is all part of one of his twisted plans for world domination. Then his last words sink in.
"Care to elaborate?" she inquires with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her as she leans back in her chair. Opposite of her, Cyrus does the same.
"You're a smart girl, Cynthia. Surely you know who I'm referring to," Cyrus begins, and she snorts at his choice of words. He might be five years her senior, but she can by no means be called a girl.
"I'm not running from anything," she denies, but a sinking feeling in her stomach tells her that he is about to prove her wrong.
"Is that so? Then why are you here and not at the Sinnoh League? Why are you neglecting your duties as a champion to wander around Sinnoh?"
Cynthia involuntarily clenches her fists upon hearing those words, a scowl settling on her face. How dare he?
"Don't patronize me!" she bites back at him angrily. "As if you have any idea of what that title entails."
For a second, she thinks she sees one corner of his mouth tilt upward in something nearing a smirk, but it happens so quickly that she's not sure whether she imagined it or not. It unnerves her, to think that toying with her might be one of the few things that humor him, a man who prides himself on lack of emotion. She, on the other hand, is brimming with emotion; anger, frustration and something that isn't quite hate. Forcing herself to calm down, Cynthia leans over the table, hands folded and eyes blazing as the questions she has prepared for him runs through her mind.
"I suppose you came here in hopes of unraveling my plan," he says before she has the chance to open her mouth. "If you think you can use your beauty to make me talk, then I must have overestimated your intelligence."
Cynthia sits back, aghast.
"You think I'm beautiful?"
The idea is astounding, terrifying even. She has been called beautiful by countless men, but never by the likes of Cyrus, and it serves as a painful reminder of the boy he once was.
"Beauty is a trivial concept of the human heart," Cyrus says, expression unwavering.
"You didn't answer the question."
"I see no need to state the obvious," Cynthia can only stare at him incredulously as he speaks, his face still void of emotions.
She has no idea how to respond to his oddly phrased compliment – if it can even be called a compliment – so she simply sits, her eyes never leaving his, unwilling to back down. Seeing the challenge in her eyes, he leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, completely unfazed by the handcuffs that constrict his movements.
"I will be gone by nightfall. Don't try to stop me."
Author's note: A little something that popped into my mind. I'm planning on continuing this, though it won't be long story or anything. Let me know what you think!