Short shit, very straightforward and details spared. I didn't work hard on this at all, but something's something, right?
Trying to write shy / embarrassed / too socially awkward to do shit POV for once, since all my characters are always bold as hell and confess whenever they wanna.
It started when she was still a fennekin.
They were in the same class, for some extra-curriculum thing or other. At first, she paid no attention to him, but her interest was gradually piqued the more classes they took together. Within the span of a few days, she developed a silly crush on him.
Who could blame her, anyway? He was cute, and sweet. She knew he'd evolve, but that probably wouldn't impact her stupid adoration for him. If there was any problem, it was that she was too much of a chicken to even approach him – she'd never spoken to him, only watched from a distance as he interacted with others, and got jealous and bitter when she noticed a female chespin that was particularly, very noticeably, close to him. Even through that, she didn't dare speak to him.
Which led to her terror. She knew he knew of her existence, but what exactly did he even think of it? What did he think of her? Was she a nuisance? Was she nice? Did he like her back? There were so many important questions she desperately wanted to be answered, but she didn't know how to. She didn't know what to say to him – or if she spoke to him, would he think what she said was lame? Yes, he was nice, but there were sassy streaks, too.
Also being secretive, she disallowed herself to let anyone find out about her crush. So they couldn't help her in knowing that.
It was fine, she thought. She was okay with simply looking at him from a distance.
She thought.
"Why're you using ember? You've already perfected flamethrower, right?"
Chespin – or, Clara, actually – was the one that was exceedingly close to Froakie – or Ford. She, the fennekin, disliked Clara for that. And other things, since she wasn't that petty. But they would take too long to explain why.
And, in all honesty, Clara was a nice pokemon. For the most part. She could be bossy and self-centred… but she still thought of others. Sometimes…
Felicia – the fennekin – winced. Okay, maybe she wasn't nice. But she was, well, popular. Bitchy people were popular.
Back to Clara's question. That was an innocent one, honestly, a very innocent question. That Felicia really didn't want to answer, because she didn't want to mention she was scared of using flamethrower. The amount of fire was too large, that was the reason – and even Clara would laugh at a fennekin being scared of too much fire.
It was a question that had an answer that seemed small, but made Felicia dread everything.
Instead of answering, Felicia simply stared at Clara for a very short while. She thought it'd take a long stare for Clara to scamper off, but she was interrupted.
"Hey, don't disturb her."
Felicia started. She knew that voice. A little too well…
Ford stood behind her, in all his glory. Felicia thought he was as adorable as ever and it didn't quite register in her mind that he defended her.
One look at Ford, and Clara blinked, curious expression no longer present. Instead, she turned around, and strolled away. Felicia inhaled sharply, dazed. She wasn't quite sure what to think of the matter.
Automatically, she took a look at Ford. He was already walking away. He probably didn't have any business with her – just passing by, probably? She couldn't help but feel relieved, still. She dreaded answering that question.
It only hit her at night.
He defended me holy crap he defended me he defended me he stood up for me and – how many guys stand up for girls? None! I mean he is sweet but still! Ford! Stood! Up! For! Me!
Did he like her back? He did, right? He did, he did! Definitely!
Felicia turned over in bed. Five minutes later, she thought:
Nope, he didn't like her back. Just because he defended her didn't announce that he liked her, after all, right? He was closer to Clara, anyway, and Felicia had never interacted with Ford before. There was no way he liked her. No way. No way.
Thoughts alternating, Felicia got herself muddled up. She didn't really remember what was quite what anymore – but she did know if she simply asked him, she'd get her answer. The outcome from then may or may not be favourable, but if he didn't like her that way, at least she could, "move on", right?
What a great pity that she'd never confront him.
She could never bring herself to talk to him, after all.