Was busy this week so this chapter probably a little weirdly paced...sorry. Dx
Thanks for all the reviews. I read them all and they're all very encouraging. ^.^
Some people are calling this "fluff" but I still think it's cheesiness. Haha...fluffy cheese? That's kinda ew actually...let's not think about that.
Does not own Pokemon
Interruption
Where time is shattered like glass,
as they are just in reach;
but that's alright,
they're still in sync.
Cynthia stirred the pink straw absently, making a little whirlpool of bubbles that swirled around in her drink.
"And for you, ma'am?"
She lifted her head, mildly surprised to discover that someone was speaking to her. "Oh." She gave the waiter a slightly blank look before saying, "I'll get…whatever he's having."
"Of course. Would there be anything else?" The waiter paused and when he got no reply from either of them, he smiled faintly and departed.
The table was made of marble that glistened like the white-washed surface of the moon, trimmed at the edges by a shiny metal material that looked expensive. It was quite a fancy restaurant—great decorated stone columns and the very wallpaper seeming to be leafed in something like gold— and looking around them, Cynthia spotted only richly dressed people and a few of the Lady and Gentleman Trainer Class.
It was pretty funny though, how the two of them fit in perfectly well.
But at least they were not given as much special treatment that Cynthia feared. Here, even though they were celebrities in their own right, the assorted aristocrats commanded more attention with their flashier manners of dressing and talking.
"Pretty noisy here isn't it?"
Steven smiled a bit, leaning back in his chair, an air of tranquility wrapped tightly around him, like a cloak protecting him from the noise. "In my defense, it was Wallace's idea."
"I thought so," She replied dryly, deciding to make it clear immediately that she did not hold Steven's best friend in her heart the same way. His eyes sparkled in amusement, his smile warm. Cynthia stared at him for a moment, struggling not to drown into those cerulean orbs, those twin pools of clear soulful water.
"Perhaps we'll find somewhere quieter after," Steven suggested brightly, his voice breaking the spell. "Or we could bail right now. I'll have to spend the rest of the month hiding from Wallace, though."
"It's fine. I'm hungry," said Cynthia with a smile, content in the knowledge that in the end, the bill was on Hoenn's flamboyant Champion. Steven smiled back and Cynthia would have happily sat there, dazzled, if the waiter had not returned, with the appetizers on gilded plates. The Champion picked up one of the half-dozen forks arranged carefully on the table and stuck it lazily into the dish.
"Do you like to travel a lot?"
She looked up, puzzled at his sudden question. Steven's eyes were now almost a metallic grayish in the gold-gilded light, and they were intent and serious.
Cynthia processed his words for a moment before replying. "Oh. I guess I do my share of exploring."
He nodded casually, blue hair flicking slightly with the motion, but Cynthia had a feeling that he wanted a certain answer. She was about to elaborate about the depths of her traveling habits, when the lights went out.
The overly golden glow of the place was gone, replaced by familiar and quiet dark, broken only by the subdued flickering of candlelight mounted at every table in the restaurant. There was a less raucous chorus of voices now, singing a happy birthday to some other individual at the opposite end of the building. From where she sat, Cynthia could distinguish the small glowing cluster that was the candles on the cake. They were singing rather slowly, drawing each note out longer than necessary, and about half a line into the familiar song, Cynthia stopped paying attention to it.
With the chattering people's voices lowered, she could finally hear herself think enough to say, "Do you like quiet places then, Steven?"
There was a pause and then his reply came from the darkness. "Mmh. Which is why I not to sit constantly in a city. I don't visit Mossdeep that often because of that."
"So you like to travel a lot."
For a moment Steven didn't answer but Cynthia could easily guess his answer and why he had asked his earlier question.
"I like to travel," Cynthia declared before he could formulate his reply. She lowered her hand, putting the fork she had been twirling listlessly around down. As she did, she felt her thumb brush warmth and realized Steven's hand was right there. Almost curiously, she reached out for it. His fingers twitched slightly in surprise at the contact, but he didn't draw away. Taking comfort in the darkness which hid her, Cynthia hesitantly slid her thumb a bit to the left, so that it rested on his knuckle. She felt smooth metal from there and gently traced the shape of one of his rings inquisitively. Steven did not move or make a sound.
By now her entire hand was discreetly resting on his.
Then birthday song was over, the candles on the cake blown out. The lights went back on and the blinding gold and silver bouncing around the very walls returned. Careful not to seem too abrupt, Cynthia removed her hand from atop Steven's and picked up her fork again. She stole a glance at his face and spotted that unreadable expression in his eyes. When he looked up to regard her—his eyes filling with fondness, Cynthia looked back down to the food, feeling a tingly bit of warmth flood her.
She traced her eyes over the fancy silverware, as she began hesitantly, "Say, Steven—,"
She didn't get to finish, because at that moment, the whole place exploded.
Screams of alarm echoed through the restaurant, as fire appeared in spurts, knocking over tables and causing assorted plates and food to be catapulted in charred chunks through the air.
Well the romantic mood—if there had been any in the first place—was now effectively demolished. She gave a wry smile as she ducked a flurry of silverware barely missing her head.
"Cynthia!"
"I'm fine," The Champion replied, voice icy with forced calm. "What's happening?"
"I have no idea," The Steel-type Trainer replied as he plucked a fork that had been flying towards his face, out of the air. He set it politely onto the table, before rising with a Pokeball in hand. Cynthia followed suit, grabbing the capsule that contained Spiritomb.
Amid the midst of panicking people, Cynthia caught glimpses of intruders dressed in red, flashing rapidly among the upturned tables. Houndours and Numels rampaged alongside them, spitting Ember out wrathfully at anyone who got too close. Whoever they were, Cynthia now held a mild grudge against them for disturbing her. Her fist tightened around Spiritomb's Pokeball.
"Team Magma," said Steven with a bit of confusion in his voice, immediately identifying the insignia he had spotted on the front of one of their signature hoodies. The blonde Champion blinked, did a double-take.
"Aren't they supposed to be disbanded? Defeated?"
"That's what they're supposed to be," He replied gravely, sending out his Aggron. The restaurant was large enough in volume to accommodate even the massive iron dinosaur. He towered over the startled Magma Grunts, his shadow blocking out even the golden beams reflected from the walls.
"What is your business here?" Steven asked calmly, addressing Team Magma with the same world-weary tone that Cynthia often used on Team Galactic.
The Grunts looked nervous, their eyes darting around like frightened fish. But despite the sight of the Aggron glowering at them, they were defiant. One of them—perhaps their leader—held up a Great Ball threateningly, like there was a missile contained within it instead of a Pokemon.
"W-we want all the money here! And—all of you! Hand over any cash you have!" He jabbed a gloved finger at the aristocrats cowering in the corner. A couple Trainers were among them, but Cynthia could tell with a glance that they were not confident at all.
"Robbery?" Hoenn's former Champion said slowly, with a note of skepticism in his voice. "At least last time you were trying to prevent flooding by creating more land…but your standards have obviously dropped."
The Magma Grunt shouted something rude, to which Steven merely smiled faintly. "Aggron, Earthquake."
It was overkill. But it was necessary—they were outnumbered and it was best that he take out all of the foes before they could hurt anyone. The restaurant was already charred, wrecked and damaged enough that the Earthquake knocking more things around didn't make much difference. But Steven couldn't help but wince as the entire building tottered from its very foundation, the sleek floor cracking into heaps of concrete and the plating raining down from the ceiling. He made a note to himself—as much as he loved to employ the move Earthquake, he was not to use it indoors.
It wasn't Team Magma, Steven could tell that much. The organization he had helped to bring down was not a bunch of superficial unruly thugs out to mug people for their money. They had had bigger goals, arguably absolutely insane goals, but nonetheless—goals that were literally earth-shattering and certainly not anything petty like this.
The ruffians that Aggron had just demolished with Earthquake were probably just that—ruffians on the street who had decided to imitate a once-mighty organization to intimidate people into giving in. It had happened before, on several occasions—petty criminals posing as either Team Aqua or Team Magma to strike fear into their victims. Now that Steven looked closely at the thugs he had just defeated, the Magma insignia on the hoodies looked to be sewed on, and the clothing itself lacked the distinctive black horn-like features on the hood.
"Well…" Cynthia's slightly amused voice remarked from behind him. There was a distinct clink as she clipped the Pokeball she was holding back to her belt. "I guess we'll have to eat dinner elsewhere."
It was a small and surprisingly unassuming house, with a design that matched all of its neighbors and all of the other residencies in Mossdeep City. Small neat rows of metal framed the door and windows, and the edge of the maroon shingled roof. There was a patch of flowers along the edge of the house, but it was nothing like the lush private garden of the Villa that Steven had owned in Sinnoh. In fact, absolutely nothing distinguished this little house from the others, except the fact that they were heading towards it.
"Wow…"
"Yeah…so that's my house," Steven said, sounding mildly embarrassed. Cynthia smiled in response, quite glad her assumption that he owned some massive castle as a residency turned out to be false. But then Steven had never struck her as a particularly flashy or gaudy man. The sight of the humble little house comforted her rather, reminded her of her own place.
Cynthia walked past the flowers and up to the door and then glanced back. Steven glanced back too, but at where the restaurant would be located and did not seem surprised as sirens echoed through the entire island city. He and Cynthia had left the scene as discreetly as possible, leaving the thugs in the hands of Officer Jenny. They would be taken care of from there. As for the real Team Magma…Steven decided they were probably still disbanded, but he resolved to keep a closer eye on things.
When Steven turned back around, his companion was still regarding the door curiously.
"You can open it. It's unlocked."
At that, the Champion raised her eyebrow. "You keep the door to your house unlocked? All the time?"
Steven chuckled. "Doesn't everyone?"
"But you're always away for long periods of time."
He shrugged, laughing at a private joke. "People have a tendency to barge in randomly whether I'm in or not."
He did not seem concerned at all at the prospect of robbery, so Cynthia decided to drop the subject. She wrapped her fingers delicately around the cool metal of the doorknob and pulled at it. When met with a great deal of resistance, Cynthia risked a glance backwards and was relieved to find Steven too distracted by the shape of a Wingull in the sky, to have noticed her blunder. She coughed softly and pushed the door inwards instead. It swung open with ease.
The interior of the house was plain and spacious, neat glossy wooden floor spreading out with the occasional pieces of ornamental furniture arranged neatly. A fireplace lay silent and dormant at the far side of the wall, precise rows of various stones stacked on it. There were also several shelves that contained such things, Leaf Stones and Moon Stones sparkling from within the glass.
Cynthia heard Steven clear his throat lightly and then the familiar sound of a Pokeball being tossed on the ground and activated. She turned to see a pair of bemused red eyes staring back at her.
After a moment, Metagross made a puzzled, but polite sound of greeting.
"Hello again," Cynthia said back, smiling.
The Champion glanced at Metagross's Trainer, wondering why Steven had so suddenly sent it out. He saw her stare, shrugged in a helpless manner with a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sure Metagross doesn't like being cooped up in a Pokeball all the time. Right?"
He flashed a glance at the Steel-type who seemed to roll its eyes in exasperation before focusing its gaze on the window. Cynthia laughed softly and then slipped into a seat at a table when he invited her to. Having entered his own house now, Steven absently emptied his pockets, relieving himself of the lumpy weight of the various things there—tossing his wallet, a small chain of keys, and some folded papers onto the lower levels of a shelf. He paused upon drawing out the forgotten Shiny Stone, hesitated as if unable to decide between parting with it or keeping it close. He paused, glancing at Cynthia out of the corner of his eye.
After a moment, Steven put the Shiny Stone carefully on the very top of the shelf away from the rest of his items, like it was distinguished above all else. He still felt a little loathe parting with it—it had provided something like companionship for the months in Kanto. However, it was, after all, just a reminder of Cynthia, and now that Cynthia was right there, there was no need for him to obsess over it. Not that he was obsessing over it before.
"Dinner," Steven said thoughtfully, as he walked to the kitchen, wondering if there was anything eatable in the first place. Wallace, being the stalker-snoop he was, had told Steven he had done grocery-shopping for him while he was gone. The rock collector, though, wisely did not trust what Wallace counted as "good" or "food". He had always suspected that perhaps part of the Water Trainer's excessively flamboyant attitude and occasional insanity stemmed from diet.
His suspicions proved to be correct, for when Steven opened the refrigerator, he found all sorts of odd things, from something weird and gooey wrapped in what looked like green pita bread, to something which looked like it belonged in a hair salon rather than a kitchen.
"Is he incapable of purchasing normal food?" Steven wondered out loud, as he shuffled through the invasive provisions in an effort to find something palatable. Finally, he fished out two bland and ordinary but less harmful-looking chocolate-stuffed snack things somehow meant to be heated in microwaves, and regretfully stuck them in the microwave. Steven had no idea what they were either, but it was either that or the green pita bread and—he didn't want Cynthia's death on his conscience.
As the mystery chocolate things were heated, Steven flitted back into the living room and took the seat from across his guest. It was funny—once again Cynthia was in his house, and once again Metagross was there to fill in the sad empty space and give him moral support. Steven flashed a glance at his partner and found Metagross to appear to be ignoring him deliberately, probably finding his constant summoning of it for domestic purposes vexing. Or perhaps it had tired of being used as supplement furniture specifically. Either way…
You're on your own, buddy.
Steven sighed softly. "Would you like anything to drink?"
To his relief, Cynthia politely declined. Steven wasn't sure he had anything to drink in the house, either. Well, that was what he got for being unprepared.
They sat there for a moment, the silence broken only by the continuous humming of the microwave from the kitchen. The sunlight streaming like a thin golden veil from the window was a pale shadow on Cynthia's hair. Especially under its rays, she looked to be outshining day itself, an unfathomable angel with the sun as her throne. Steven recalled his earlier question—"Do you like to travel a lot?"—and decided his assumption that he could drag her into caves with him was completely ludicrous and selfish. It was under the sunlight where she belonged, in the brilliant light.
Cynthia must have noticed the expression on his face.
"Is something wrong?"
He shook his head wordlessly, fixing his gaze onto her, like he would never see her again. If Cynthia was uncomfortable with his blatant staring, she did not show it. She returned his gaze evenly, her visible eye like a silver disk of warmth.
The microwave's humming abruptly ended, the ding sound of the conclusion to the heating startling them both.
"I'll get it," Cynthia said, half-rising. Steven shook his head, gesturing for her to sit down. He strode quickly to the kitchen and brought back the mysterious chocolate-stuffed things.
"Only eatable thing in the house," He explained apologetically.
"It's fine. We can go somewhere else later," Cynthia selected one of the chocolate things and without examining it for traces of toxins,—as Steven would have done for any kind of food associated with Wallace—took a bite. "Chocolate," She said, chewing thoughtfully. "Pretty good."
Not poisonous.
Steven obligingly took the remaining thing and cautiously nibbled on it. The chocolate tasted pretty good warm, and seemed to melt into the cake-like outside which held it. It took them both just a few minutes to finish the treats.
Steven smiled as he pointed to the side of his mouth. "You have a little…"
Cynthia blinked, seeming not to understand for a moment. Shaking his head in amusement, he reached over and with his thumb, gently wiped away the smear of chocolate still remaining on her lips. Her visible eye widened in something like horror and a faint flush of mortified embarrassment appeared in her cheeks. Steven couldn't suppress a chuckle, as he affectionately brushed back a stray blonde strand on her face, with the finger not stained with chocolate.
She mumbled a thanks, her eye glued determinedly on the table in an effort to preserve the last shred of her dignity. Then she froze, as she felt his hand lightly brush her cheek next. Cynthia forced herself to look up and see him looking at her in that way. The look in his eyes could only be described as awe—awe at what? At her?—and it was a look that made Cynthia feel she was infinitely unworthy of being on the receiving end of such a look.
Steven looked like he was about to say something and Cynthia really much wanted to hear it, when the door to the house burst open.
Both of them jerked in surprise, turned to see Wallace standing at the door, arms crossed. Metagross had tensed up, perceiving a threat, and then seeing that it was Wallace, relaxed and looked away disinterestedly, seeming to be saying, Oh it's just the idiot.
Without preamble, said idiot shot a spear-like look at Steven, something that could have impaled the Steel-type Trainer to the far wall. Without preamble, the Champion of Hoenn declared:
"You destroyed the restaurant."
"I did not destroy the restaurant," said Steven after he had recovered from the shock of Wallace randomly materializing out of nowhere. "It was already severely damaged by the robbers imitating Team Magma."
Wallace was not convinced. His blue eyes were narrowed and accusing, like a stormy ocean roared within their depths.
"You destroyed the restaurant."
"You're deluding yourself again," Steven replied mildly, quite unbowed by the Champion's intent stare.
"We ate here," Cynthia interjected with obvious forced cheeriness, more than mildly annoyed at Wallace's interruption of the…moment.
"Your taste in 'food' is really odd. Remind me to never let you shop for me again," Steven added, a rare hint of irritation laced subtly in his tone as well.
Wallace looked between the two of them and his feigned anger faded immediately. "Well, if you wanted good food, then you should have stayed at the restaurant—but you destroyed it."
Steven sighed, not bothering to correct him anymore. "You don't have to worry about us, Wallace."
His politely hidden message—Get out—was completely disregarded by the Water-type Trainer. "I'm glad the two of you are bonding well!" He cried merrily.
We would be bonding even more well if you were not here.
The Champion of Hoenn waggled his finger knowingly. "Well, I just came to visit you guys, because everyone else has gone off to Lilycove already. I bet they're already enjoying their vacation and heck, throwing a party there, too—I saw Sidney bringing a cake and all the cookies he made. Who knew that guy could bake, eh?" He chuckled to himself, before declaring, "Anyways, I brought you two a little something."
Undeterred by the flat stares he received, Wallace produced a large multicolored gift bag out of nowhere. He set it with a loud thump, onto the table, and then did almost a twirl, as he darted to the door. "Enjoy! Now—I'll be off!"
Just as abruptly as he had entered, Wallace was gone.
Steven told himself to lock the doors of his house from then on.
"Why are you friends with this guy?" Cynthia asked bluntly. Metagross, hearing the question turned and gave her a look that said plainly, We're not.
Steven chuckled softly. "Frankly…I don't know."
Gradually, their eyes were drawn to the rather conspicuous bag sitting in the middle of the table. Cynthia glanced at Steven who regarded it suspiciously, like there was an Electrode about to use Explosion within the innocuous tissue paper poking out from the inside. Metagross, looking rather curious itself, sidled over.
Cynthia stared at the bag. "Well? Are we going to open it?"
"I suppose we must," Steven replied gravely, as he reached over slowly, like he was ready to draw back at any moment. Gingerly, he peeled away the tissue paper to reveal a little box wrapped in a ribbon. After carefully untying the ribbon, Steven lifted the lid to reveal…another box inside.
"Are you serious."
Something like a smirk appeared on Metagross's face, but it was difficult to really tell.
"As you've probably noticed, he has quite the flair for drama," Steven remarked dryly, undoing the magenta string around the second box and hoping very hard that Wallace had not decided to be vituperative enough to include a third box. Fortunately, he didn't.
Stacked neatly within were what appeared to be two large cardboard tickets.
Cynthia reached for one curiously and read the golden text on it out loud. "'Valid for a one-day stay at Knot Island. Please enjoy your trip and explore all that the Sevii Islands have to offer!'" She looked up at Steven. "The Sevii Islands?"
"A popular vacationing spot I've heard," He said thoughtfully. "It's quite far away though, the closest region being Kanto. I wonder how Wallace got these."
"Well," Casually, Cynthia flipped the ticket over and pretended to be engrossed in the details there. "You want to go sometime?"
Steven smiled in response. "Of course. But first…let's get some real food."
They ended up having a real meal with the Mossdeep Gym Twins.
"Ooh do come in!" Liza cried out with delight, ushering both of them inside. She had rushed out as the two had walked by the Gym, and asked them if they had eaten dinner. Then—without waiting for the reply—she seized them.
"Hi," Tate called cheerfully from where he sat on the floor, at a table. "You guys are just in time. We're just—,"
"—about to have dinner," Liza finished, as she handed them each chopsticks. "We think a flu's been going around—,"
"—because a lot of our Gym Trainers have been absent. And then today, everyone is taking the day off," said Tate. "We usually all eat dinner together—,"
"—so it feels kind of empty with just the two of us."
The twins then exclaimed at the same time, "We're glad to have you with us!"
It was uncanny, but Cynthia had seen weirder things. Steven smiled back, like he was absolutely used to twin telepathy.
"I cooked today," Liza added, as Tate stated at the exact same moment, "Liza cooked today."
Cynthia took a seat on one of the mats and blinked at the array of colorful food on the platters of the low table. Steven was already helping himself so Cynthia happily joined in. She poured for herself a cup of jasmine tea from the nearby teapot and sipped it delicately.
"So! So!" Tate suddenly cried out excitedly, in mid-bite of some fish. "Steven, is it true that you're getting married?"
Cynthia choked on her tea.
Steven pretended not to notice her reaction and replied calmly to Liza's sudden question. "Who told you that?" He asked, keeping his voice casual.
"Wallace did!" Both of the twins answered and the former Champion found himself completely unsurprised, although his eyes narrowed with a steely light. With this, the current Champion of Hoenn had fallen pretty low. Cynthia was staring at him intently, and Steven was aware that he was obligated to give an appropriate answer and badly deprecate Wallace's name while he was at it. Steven conformed to both.
He started by deprecating the Champion's name. "Wallace is a terrible influence on children, and an extremely bad role model," The rock collector said to the twins seriously and slowly, but with amusement in his eyes. "And he also spreads scandalous lies. You guys should not be associating with people like him—we wouldn't want children to grow up like him after all."
Tate and Liza laughed. "But is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"Are you getting married?"
The corner of Steven's mouth twitched. "Not that I know of. Right now. But that's my own business, though privacy is not something that Wallace comprehends—which is why you guys should not hang around people like him."
"But you hang out with him all the time," Liza pointed out.
"That's because I pity him." Wallace was lucky that Steven was not an unkind person, for he was bashing him rather lightly and with good humor.
"Ooooh," The twins said, leaning forward eagerly.
"Is that why you gave him the Champion title?" Liza asked.
" Because you felt sorry for him?" Tate finished.
That was pushing it a little too much, but Steven laughed, regarded them both for a moment, and weighed his response. He could see Cynthia shoot a look at him, daring him to mercilessly denounce Wallace further.
Say it. Burn him good.
"Yes," Steven said calmly, imagining his slandered friend's response to his words. "I pitied him that much."
The twins would go running to Wallace the moment they saw him and his head, Steven could already see the Water-type Trainer suddenly bursting into his house—like he often did—and pointing at him in mock outrage, one hand placed dramatically over his heart.
"How could you say such a thing to people? That hurts, Steven, that hurts. I thought we were friends."
Steven chuckled gently but then froze as Liza asked, "Who would you marry then?"
"Wallace told us you were madly in love with someone," Tate added cheerily. "And he said, in a month—,"
"—the two of you would be married. He told us to start deciding what we're to wear—,"
"—to your wedding. Say, what's your wedding going to be like?"
"We've never been to one. What should we wear?" Liza looked a little anxious.
Forcing himself to stay calm, Steven managed to say, his voice a little choked, "I'm afraid I don't have a wedding planned anytime soon. Wallace…"
He trailed off, unable to communicate the things he was thinking of doing to the Water-type Trainer now. He did hear though, Cynthia hiss, "I am going to kill him."
The children focused their gazes onto her. "You must be—," began Liza, her eyes lighting up in recognition.
"—the lady that Wallace was talking about!" Finished Tate, "So Miss Cynthia, is he telling the truth? Is there—,"
"—going to be a wedding?"
There was no reaction from Cynthia, except for the increasingly murderous aura that she was expelling, and the alarming way she bit off Wallace's name as she muttered it under her breath. Mildly distressed by the way her hand appeared to be twitching towards her Pokeballs, Steven decided to intervene.
"I thought we already established that Wallace is an awful liar," He interjected smoothly, effectively taking control of the situation once more.
The twins were quiet this time, their solemn eyes losing their childish cluelessness and flashing with quieter mischievous knowing.
"We're Psychics you know," Liza remarked, giggling. "So we know—,"
"—exactly when people or Pokemon are perfectly in sync with each other," Tate paused, regarding Cynthia and Steven meaningfully. "When two people are two halves of a whole—,"
"—like we are, there's no hiding it from us. We can tell. And there's no denying it—,"
"—because it's synchronicity," both twins said at once. Steven stared at them, unable to respond to that.
"But Wallace must be a really bad gossiper," Tate continued cheerily. "Because—,"
"—he's been telling all of the Hoenn Gym Leaders about the wedding. And they all believed him."
"So now, everyone thinks you're getting married!"
Steven sighed heavily, wondering how on earth he was going to fix the mess that Wallace had made. Beside him, Cynthia groaned quietly and put her head on the table.
"I'm going to kill him."
"Please don't. Then I'll have to be the Champion again and that would make me sad," replied Steven with a lighthearted grin. Cynthia stared flatly at the path they were walking along, her gray eye shooting invisible lasers that should have been searing a hole in the ground.
"I'm not even going to use my Pokemon," She was saying with unnerving calm. "I will beat him up myself."
Steven laughed, his hand stroking the back of hers gently, a bit unsure whether or not to take her words seriously. After all, Cynthia looked fully capable of hitting someone when she got irritated.
In the end, the twins had been distracted by Steven into talking about an entirely different subject and the rest of the dinner had gone without any more infuriating mentions of Wallace—the traitor. Now, they were headed back to Steven's house, where Cynthia declared she would plot Wallace's demise.
Steven held the door open for the fuming Champion of Sinnoh, smiling at her overreaction to the Hoenn Champion's harmless prank. He would give his friend a good scolding later, but Steven decided to not let the two meet for a while—Cynthia would probably challenge Wallace to a fight. Not even a Pokemon battle, from the way she was spewing death threats. Just…a fight.
As Steven called out a "I'll be right back" and slipped into another room for whatever reason, Cynthia sat down onto the plaid couch in the living room with a quiet huff. She had never liked Wallace in the first place and thus far, he was not making it any better.
Deciding to rid her mind of anymore thoughts of that annoying man, the Champion crossed on leg over another as she sat back, her eyes lazily sweeping the room. The glimmer of gold from the very top of a shelf caught her eye and she recognized the Shiny Stone that she had found, immediately. It was placed apart from the other stones in Steven's collection, above them like it was extremely special; a sacred object on a holy alter.
He had not only kept it, but also seemed to treasure it. Cynthia found that increasingly betraying blush in her cheeks again, and was glad that Steven was not in the room at that time.
Automatically, her hand strayed to her pocket where her matching stone lay, her fingers brushing the cool smoothness there.
"You must be the lady that Wallace was talking about!"
"Is there going to be a wedding?"
Cynthia blinked away those words, feeling a little shiver go down her spine. Now that was going a little too far. Married? That was…
She couldn't imagine herself dating let alone married.
What about tonight's dinner? Before the restaurant got blown up? An unwelcome little voice whispered in her head.
That was not a date, Cynthia argued back, crossing her arms. I just…
That thought trailed off, as she deliberated her exact feelings for Steven. She couldn't deny that she found him an amazing person to be around, and that she wanted to be around him. And she certainly would not mind spending the rest of her life with him.
That's called "marriage", the voice remarked snidely.
Cynthia let out a frustrated groan at herself.
Soft footsteps signaled Steven's return into the room. Cynthia looked up, quickly putting a smile on her face, and saw him holding two ice cream cones.
"Just found these buried in the back of the freezer," He said with a grin, handing one to her.
"More junk food," Cynthia sighed appreciatively, immediately perking up. She ripped the stiff wrapper off and happily licked at the sweet icy vanilla-ness. Steven took a seat next to her on the couch, his shoulder brushing hers. His head cocked as he thought up of conversation.
"So have you ever thought about marriage?"
His tone was light and conversational but Cynthia barely suppressed a flinch at the topic.
"What, did what Wallace say get to you?" She countered humorously, successfully hiding her initial reaction, and continuing to munch at her ice cream cone.
Steven sniggered, leaning back comfortably. "No, my father harps on the subject quite often."
"What do you think about it then?" Her question was of genuine curiosity. His eyes flickered to her for a moment.
"It'll come with the right person," He replied nonchalantly, his gaze lingering on her a little longer before returning casually to his ice cream. "What about you?"
"I've…never thought about it," Cynthia admitted. "I've always been too busy for it to cross my mind."
"Hmm." Steven took a thoughtful bite out of his ice cream, winced a moment at the brain freeze, before swallowing. He chuckled, "I'm sure it'll work out in the end, regardless." His eyes softened, and Cynthia was once again lost in their calming ocean depths, deep bottomless blue that she wanted to drown in. His shoulder was leaning against hers, his warmth making her feel like resting her head on him and never moving again.
Then Steven blinked and gestured to the left. "By the way, it's getting pretty dark outside."
"Oh." Cynthia followed his gaze to the window, and through the glass, the sky was an evening shade of violet-indigo, the moon a copper disk hanging low over the darkened glistening visible ocean. "Wow, it's nighttime already."
"Are you staying at the Lilycove Hotel with everyone else?" Steven asked.
"Eh…" She licked vanilla off of her lips slowly. In all honestly, Cynthia was rather reluctant with the idea of staying in the same city, let alone the same building as the rest of the Sinnoh Elite Four. Lucian and Bertha wouldn't be any trouble—the former quietly reading and the latter quietly going about whatever business she liked—but Aaron and Flint could, by themselves, level a town with the amount of noise and bother they could produce. The two of them together, in the same hotel…Cynthia shuddered. Aaron would be blasting music or making a ruckus with his Pokemon and Flint could probably talk the walls and windows to pieces. It was likely something would blow up, too.
Steven read her expression clearly. He smiled hesitantly, said a little slowly, "Or…you could stay here for the night."
"R-really?" She asked, caught by complete surprise by an offer she should have seen coming. She was temporarily caught in a memory—of a scene in a spring-misted town, which seemed so long ago…when a similar offer slipped from her own mouth.
"Of course. I've lots of room. You're welcome to stay," Steven said warmly. "If you don't mind, that is."
"Oh no…I'd rather stay here than have to deal with a pair of idiots at the hotel," Cynthia replied, laughing little weakly. She popped the remaining bit of the cone into her mouth. Suddenly feeling rather drained by the day, Cynthia rose, stretched.
"I think I'll go to bed early."
"The bathroom is the second on the right," Steven said helpfully.
"Thanks," She hesitated and turned to face him for a moment. Steven stared back calmly. Quietly, she said, "Good night."
His tone was as warm as late summer winds. "Good night, Cynthia."
.
So there we are. Yes. More references and mentions of various food, because food is awesome. I want some vanilla ice cream right now...