Boring, a pokémon fanfic

For May, loving Steven was beginning to get a little boring.

Steven was perfect, from the top of his silvery-green hair to the soles of his black dress shoes. His hands always travelled to the right places in bed, and his eyes always gleamed vibrantly whenever he eyed her coming out of the shower in the morning. He never failed to open doors for her even when his hands were full, and he pulled out chairs for her in restaurants. He paid for her lunches and did that attractive little eye roll whenever May pulled a stupid face. He laughed at her silly jokes and cutely cocked his head, closing his eyes whenever she hummed little melodies here and there.

So why did it feel like loving Steven was getting…dull?

Maybe it was the fact that he was rarely at home, all of his time taken up Devon Corp. obligations. Perhaps it was the fact that he came home at two in the morning and left again for work three hours later. It was always a miracle when May would see Steven goggling her when she stepped out of the shower in the morning; he always left the house so early that it felt like a privilege to see him up so late. He couldn't open doors for her, pull out her chair for her in restaurants, pay for her lunches, or listen to her humming or jokes if he wasn't around to witness them.

Or, it could have been the fact that whenever Steven was home, everything he did was…the same. His hands? Sure, they wandered over right spots on her body, but it was always the same spots—May knew exactly what to expect every time she and Steven's cuddling got a little heated. He always chose the same restaurant for the seldom dates they went on, and their conversations on the phone were always the same. Nothing more than a 'hi,' 'hello,' 'how's work?' and a 'busy—sorry, I've got to go now,' were to ever be exchanged whenever May was able to reach his mobile. Steven was predictable—chivalrous, nice, friendly, gentlemanly, and handsome, but predictable.

"I think you need to take a day off," May once mentioned when Steven had woken her up at the usual time of two in the morning. She didn't know what came over her; she would never usually say something like that. She could blame it on the lack of sleep, which she could, in turn, blame on Steven—which she didn't, since she didn't want to fight with him the next time they saw each other besides in bed.

Their bedroom was completely dark and unlit, but May knew that he was giving her an incredulous look.

"I can't," he said after a while. May shifted on their bed, making room for him. "There's too much paperwork to fill out."

She rolled her eyes, an action Steven wouldn't be able to see. "Paperwork's something you can fill out at home."

Steven sighed. He clambered into bed, and the mattress shook at the newfound weight. "Why now?"

"You seem stressed," May said, but both she and Steven could see through her blatant lie.

"Thank you for your concern, but you've never asked me to take leave." Steven pulled his half of their thick, white duvet over his legs, extending them fully. "Is something wrong?"

The two rolled onto their sides so that they faced each other. May sighed, propping her elbow on her pillow and resting her head on her palm. She pulled up the duvet up to cover her chest.

"Kinda," she said. The only thing she could make out in the darkness was Steven's shadow and now dishevelled head of hair. She shook her head. "Actually, don't worry about it. It's pretty stupid now that I think about it."

"Nonsense. Do we need to talk about something?"

"Geez, what's with the game of Twenty Questions?"

"Sorry," Steven said defensively. "I just want to know if something's on your mind. The basis of a good relationship is—"

"'The basis of a good relationship is communication'—I know," May mocked. "You've told me so many times. I just…"

"You just?"

She sighed. "Do you promise to not get mad at me?"

"Ma—"

"Promise?"

A beat.

"Yes."

May dwelled on whether or not to even say it. The word 'communication' floated about in her mind, so before biting her tongue and shrivelling underneath their duvet, she decided to just go for it.

"Sometimes this—" she gesticulated her hands around the both of them, "—gets a little boring. Just a little."

Immediately, May felt like a terrible person and dropped her elbow, turning around so that her back faced Steven. After a silence that felt like an eternity, Steven gently put one of his palms on May's exposed shoulder and asked, "What part?"

May felt Steven's hand fall along with her shoulder as she heaved a lengthy sigh. "I don't know. It's just…I don't know. It's kind of like we're not interesting anymore. Like we're not having as much fun as we used to." Another pause drifted between them before she added, "And some of the things you—we do…they're a little…"

Steven stared at May's profile as he waited for her to find a suitable word.

"Predictable." She twisted her neck to look at him—or, rather, his silhouette. "Like, sometimes, when we have—" She quickly stopped herself, instead saying, "Restaurants." She nodded. "When we go to them, you pick the same one, and it gets kind of boring."

"What's wrong with La Lune?" Steven said defensively without missing a beat.

"Nothing. It's just that when a place names a whole dish after you, I think it's time to leave. Either that, or not go there as often."

"Oh."

May decided that sighing another time would be overkill, so she settled for turning over on her side once again. "Yeah. That's all I wanted to say. Goodnight. Lo—"

"What should I do to make things more 'fun', then?"

Steven sounded genuinely confused—confused and hurt. Mostly confused.

With her back to him, May said quietly, "I'm tired, Steven. I'm just…I'm going to bed. Love you."

It was Steven's turn to sigh. "We'll talk about this in the morning, alright?"

May hummed in response as Steven left a trail of soft kisses on her spine, his words not matching his actions at all. When he was finished, he wrapped his cold, pale arms around her bare stomach and pulled her close to his body. Steven fell asleep first; she didn't drift off into Dreamland until hours later, when the only thing she could hear was his steady breathing and the only thing she could feel was the regular rise and fall of his naked chest against her back under their duvet.

Steven left the house at five in the morning, way before May took her morning shower.

The morning may as well have not come at all.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! If you have the time, please leave a review on this story with any feedback you have; favourites and watches are appreciated, too. See you later!