Prompt: Tears
Universe: Games BW
Characters: N, White
Genre(s): Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Rating: K+
Word count: 386
Okay, I've never supported FerrisWheelShipping. Just totally not my style (can someone please tell me how old N is? Please?). But I figured I should at least give it a shot.
I own nothing.
White had thought someone as special as N always had amazing things. He had an amazing laugh, and an amazing variety of expressions, and an amazing way of expressing himself.
But as she watched him, his tears were not amazing. They slid down his dirt-stained face, leaving a path of cleanliness, dripping off of his chin, drying up on his skin, leaving their salty remains behind. They were not special. They were not different.
He was crying. He was crying tears. Just like everyone else. Not amazing, not different, not special.
Just ordinary.
Ordinary. Just like everyone else. Ordinary tears. Ordinary emotions. Emotions someone as perfect, someone as amazing as N wasn't to show anyone.
And of all people, it was amazing that he showed her.
It was amazing. It was simply amazing.
White could not get over how terrible and beautiful it was that N, for all of his amazing qualities, was showing someone insignificant like her these emotions. These amazing emotions.
No.
No. These ordinary emotions.
N, being isolated for so long, being raised like he was different, always thinking he was leading to the Pokemons' salvation. But to be told he was wrong, after all these years?
It was too much.
The perfect N, the amazing N, he crumbled under this revelation. He was ruined. He was broken. He was beaten.
He was human.
But it was never too late. Never too late for change. White knew this. N did not.
But perhaps she could teach him.
She held her hand out to him. He looked up at her, those amazing lime-green eyes searching her own, looking for something, anything, everything, that told him he had heard wrong.
But it was in vain. He knew it was in vain. She knew it was in vain.
"Come with me," she said, quietly, softly, refraining from disturbing the fragile atmosphere. Refraining from crushing his spirit under her heel. "Come with me."
He stared. She stared back, her emotions visible, her spirit open. He could see despair, and pity, and fear, and sadness.
But most of all, hope. He could see hope.
He had thought he had hope. And for a while, he'd thought he'd forgotten it. He's forgotten what it was, what it felt like.
But this small girl, this beautiful, amazing girl, showed him he'd never lost it.
He never had. And he never would.
He took her hand. He stood up. He wrapped his arms around her thin waist as hers went around his neck. His tears dried. His emotions settled. Hope rose in his chest, warm and comforting.
When they began to walk down the halls in what used to be his beautiful, sheltering castle, he didn't look back.
He never would.