1. Mint

Fresh, clean, crisp, sharp—it caught the purple haired boy's curious nose. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he turned both ways, glancing at all the people around him. The teenage boy had a partiality for the scent and taste of mint. He followed the strong aroma which led up to something that was not arguably what he expected.

"Paul?" The young girl turned her head, lips shimmering.

"I smell… mint," he said in his raspy voice.

"Oh! You must be talking about my new lip gloss!" She began, winking. "It has a very, very strong scent! Tastes just like it, too, if you want to try."

Paul looked upon the girl with annoyance, but that soon turned into a small smirk. "Well, if you insist, I'll take you up on that," he said, closing up on her.

"W-Wait! It was just a joke—!"

2. Tears

"G-Get away from me..." Dawn's voice choked out into a cruel, broken sob. Her head was downcast onto the ground below her feet, her blue bangs shadowing her eyes. Her tiny hand gripped her black shirt tightly, shaking her head constantly. Her heart ached with each passing moment. Her legs trembled, threatening to make her fall.

The bluenette winced once his familiar, strong arms snake around her petite body, pulling her close to him. Her back gently pressed against his chest. She froze once his heavy breathing brushed behind the skin of her ear. Snapping her teary eyes shut, Dawn weakly tried to tug out of his arms. "Let me go!"

"Dawn..." he growled lowly, tightening his hold on her small body. He leaned into Dawn's body, his lips alighting on her earlobe. "Please..." whispered the lavender-haired male, sighing heavily. "Don't go."

The atmosphere grew quiet around them. Her sobbing faded as she—ironically—was finding some sort of comfort in his hold. No matter what happened, in the end, she was the one who needed him.

That need was mutual for both.

"I'm sorry..."

Her knees bucked, and before she could fall, Paul slid down with her onto the ground. All she did was curl into his embrace, crying quietly as his name slurred through her pink lips in desperation.

3. Thread

A distant, yet pleasing warmth wrapped around the two. However their relationship would deem harmful if another were to look the other way. In some cases, his being around the girl turned to be toxic while her being near him turned to feel inferior. Not a solitary word could be uttered between them to make it better.

He cannot escape the fact that she's flighty, that she can be over bearing and loud. He cannot escape the fact that he loves her. Furthermore, she cannot avoid his inconsideration or his cold demeanor he wears most often. She cannot unclench a fist which holds his heart.

Neither can look at the other without having that one sentence whispered between minds, nor can they wake up without their image being their first stimulus. They are a friction that becomes the other's muse, and they always shall be. She is unable to withstand the chains he had bound to her soul—she is the being that holds the end of the thread—which he so desperately clings to.

4. Cough

"Fuck—" Paul cussed out, followed by coughing harshly. Grumbling to himself, he snuggled into the soft bed sheets, glaring up at the ceiling. Today was the day that he was supposed to go on and battle Cynthia again, but unfortunately, he had been smacked with a terrible cough. Not only that; he was also feeling very weak, which pissed him off. No battle, and no getting out of bed. The double whammy struck him at the most redundant time. "Dammit..."

Her footsteps tapped in a skipped rhythm—he could hear them from his spot on the bed. He let out a throaty exhale.

"How's my little sick boy doing?" Dawn asked once she slammed the door open with a gentle smile.

The slamming of the door made him flinch in surprise. "For fucks sake, Troublesome, don't—" Again, he was sent off into another fit of heavy, chest-blowing coughs. He won't admit, but they actually hurt.

Dawn plopped herself onto the bed next to him, giggling softly. Her finger tapped his nose, and he growled at her threateningly. "Now, now, Paulie, that's not how you treat your personal nurse, now is it?"

"... Fuck my life," he finally mourned as she stroked his cheek and neck, tilting his head back. Dawn knew that he absolutely loved it when she gave him soft touches like that. Once again, she started to laugh teasingly, making him sigh loudly. "Just don't stop."

5. Tragedy

This crisp morning, the fog spread throughout the town, throughout the neighborhood. The grass was wet with dew, the trees rather slowly swayed with dust from the bark, the plants moist. Every house was silent, it didn't show a single sign of life stirring. Not a lone bird, a squirrel, or even insect appeared. It was as though time had stopped.

The young girl sat there with her crown hanging down, her blue locks resting on her lap, her eyes burned with every blink. This sense of disgust ran up her spine, goose bumps flashing upon her skin. She fumbled up, lazily half putting on clothes, slipping on brown sandals. She walked straight past the mirror—she hadn't the slightest thought to look at her reflection—since she knew doing so would cause revulsion.

She started out of the house, walking down the road. The dainty lady endured the haunting feeling of emptiness, quite hollow and dark, as if not one person could reach out to her. However, there was one soul, whom she trudged to at the moment, barely containing her pain. It became foggier as she opened the creaking steel gate, arriving at her unwanted destination. She hadn't wanted to be here, not ever. The young girl dreaded it further with every step.

Her sandals clanking onto the stone pathway, slowly stopping and her feet turning to the left. The fog danced around the ground, steadily it moved away from a flat stone in front. Her face quivered along with her shoulders, she raised her hands and wrists to her eyes which now released long, held-in, hot teardrops. A tragedy she had never wanted, a mistake she would take back daily, but far too late to do so.

"I'm so sorry…" she whimpered in front of the stone. "Paul..."

6. Slot Machine

"Just one more game!" she cried out, trying to slide the token into the machine.

Paul sighed heavily, grabbing her hand before she could feed the gambling contraption in front of her even more. She pulled out another token with her other hand, and tried to slip it into the machine, but he grabbed that hand as well. The sounds of slot machines continued to spin, in what seemed to be an ongoing, never-ending cycle. And quite frankly, the male was growing tired of hearing the same tone. "Troublesome, you aren't going to win, no matter how many times you play," he pointed out, scoffing. "You've fucking spent almost three hundred dollars, for Arceus sake."

Dawn moved a bit in her seat, groaning loudly at his restraining. "C'mon, just one more! I swear, after that, I'll stop!" The bluenette glued her eyes to the slot machine in front of her, smirking. Her confidence was skyrocketing. She felt like she was going to win this next one.

He let go of her hands, and rolled his eyes at her in response. "Go on," he pressed, crossing his arms and leaning against the machine next to her.

She slipped the coin in, and pulled on the handle. Paul bumped his head onto the machine in front of him, groaning loudly in annoyance. Damn her and her little gambling penchant. When he heard the noise stop, he turned to her, and blinked at the sulking Dawn. "Congrats, Troublesome, as of now, it's three hundred dollars you won't get back."

7. Bus Stop

Dawn caressed the side of her purple bag with a nod, making sure the essentials were packed. She pushed the tip of her head into a pale pink sun hat, wrinkling her nose her small feet slipped into flats. It was time to leave for her usual ride. Dawn strolled through the sidewalk, underneath all evergreen trees. Her sapphire orbs stared at the ground although a violent gust swept through. This wind tossed her hat right off her crown—flying it through the air—straight to the bus stop with the bench in front of her.

Her eyes went up as she extended her arm out to catch her hat, but the girl stopped short seeing as that a young boy had caught it for her already. His hand held onto the accessory as another breeze blew through. Dawn stared as the leaves rustled within the branches to the side, and the purple haired boy faced her.

"This… yours?" he grumbled with blank eyes.

The girl snapped from her trance as she nodded quickly, "Y-Yes…"

She walked up to him hesitantly—placing her fingers on the rim of the hat—still staring at the boy who caught it. He didn't seem like much, he gave off the aura he could care less and wanted to leave. For some odd reason that made Dawn curious right as the bus pulled up beside them and opened.

She stepped on the large bus, swiping her pass. Her hair bounced up as she turned, noticing he was getting on as well. The girl sat herself down near the window, but saw that the young boy was sitting on the opposite side of her in the other window seat. Dawn then noticed she and him were the only ones in the bus. Her hands twiddles as her palms sweat, she hadn't thanked him. Her lips pursed as she peeked back at him again—he was just staring out the window with his chin in his palm.

Her heart palpitated as she turned over to him again, "Hey!" Dawn said in a small shout. The young boy jumped in his seat and looked at her slightly annoyed.

"Thanks… For catching my hat for me at the stop," she said with a smile.

8. Spotlight

Dawn never knew, but when the spotlight was on her during those Pokémon contests, he was watching. Not anywhere nearby her or on which she could easily spot him in the loud, cheering crowds; he was mostly located towards the very end or top, afar from her stance on the stage.

Sometimes, before she would go on stage, her deep, azure orbs would give the crowds a quick scan, hunting for a purple haired boy. Sure, there was always a purple haired being in the crowd, but it was never her. There were times when she would grow disappointed due to that simple fact. Weren't boyfriends supposed to be supportive of their girlfriends, every step of the way? The bluenette would always find herself going out to perform with slight dismay in her usual peppy self. Maybe he didn't care.

He was always there, however. Hidden within the depths of the loud, motivating crowds, he too, was cheering on for her. And every time the contest would end, whether if she would win or lose, Paul would be there, standing out on the large lobby, waiting for her. He was prepared to congratulate her, or comfort her due to her win or loss.

One day, she'll see him there, because he always is.

9. Optional

The young lady moved ever so gracefully across the stage with her Pokemon, the crowd yelled as she executed the most gorgeous display. She bowed along with her partner, the loud sounds of claps and shouts resonating throughout the stadium. A wide smile was distinguished across her lips as she exited.

She came to the preparations room where she noticed bouquets with her name on them, gifts as well. The girl giggled and grinned to herself, daintily picking up one of the small gifts in her gloved palm. Who would not be so flattered by such praise and compliments? She also blushed a bit on how she had a few secret admirers, making her 'apparent' boyfriend jealous without her knowing.

Th blue haired beauty smiled again as she picked a bouquet up and sniffed the scarlet roses. A young boy in the door way, annoyed by her little act gritted his teeth.

"Oh, will you quit it already!" he growled through his mouth violently—causing the girl to jump around to meet his eyes.

"Oh please, Paul!" The girl stomped her foot a bit. "Who wouldn't be delighted by something like this!"

"Me," he barked. His arms crossed as Paul began to refuse to meet her eye.

"Why do you always get so riled up whenever I receive praise after a contest? If you're going to be so rude I don't think we should break up!" Her cheeks puffed as she stifled on the last few words.

"Good! Then you can go choose from your long list of followers of who to date! I've always been an option in your life anyway, you're so damn troublesome!"

Both stopped and stared at each other as Dawn's blue eyes widened. "You've never been an option in my life…" she said in a low tone.

"What?" Paul answered bluntly, glancing at her with slightly curious eyes.

"I said-! You've never been optional in my life! Stupid!" she yelled, putting her arms down with balled fists. Her face ran complete pink, "Because there's only one Paul and I want only him!"

The boy's face turned sour, however there was a small, deep, blush dusted on his cheeks, if she looked close enough. The girl's shoulders slowly went up and down as she panted and tried to calm herself.

"Well…" he began. "You're optional in my life, don't forget it!"

He started out into the hallway, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his girlfriend followed behind.

"That's not funny!"

10. Fin

Dawn's eyes watched the gentle, natural scenery that was before her. It was relaxing; the simple view of the sunset on a grassy valley, all seen from a nostalgic, wooden swing. Passing out a soft sigh, her tiny hands grabbed at the bumpy, thin rope that served as an alternative to the chains of a swing. All she did now, was think. Think back to all the amazing events she's been through, and think of all the wonderful people she's met thanks to those events. From gaining her Piplup, to meeting Ash and the others, it made her feel privileged to have that opportunity. Besides that, the best thing to happen to her wasn't any of those things.

To her, meeting Paul was the best thing to ever happen to her.

Sure, some might question that fact. Why? What was so significant about Paul? Why him?

Dawn had realized it the moment their eyes connected with one another the day they met. Little by little, she had reached his cold, ruthless exterior, shattering it. She went on to mend his heartless soul. It was because of her, that he was there where he was at that moment. He was a better person because of the bluenette.

He figured out that she was his soul-mate; his love.

Large hands suddenly wrapped around her own on the rope. Dawn didn't bother to look back; she already knew who it was. A smile curved her lips as he finally addressed her, "Here you are, Troublesome... I was wondering where you went." There was a pregnant pause, then followed by her giggling. Content with her response, Paul pulled back slightly, then began to gracefully push the swing she sat upon. Her giggling turned into cackling, enjoyed laughter as her body swung gently back and forth.

She felt him stop the swing, and felt his mouth against her ear, face matted into her long, blue locks. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Paul."

A/N: Happy Ikarishipping day! c: This was a set of drabbles that I collaborated with, one of my best friends on here, Majorelle! She did the odd numbers, and I did the even ones. Enjoy and review! ^o^