He didn't know why he tucked the flower into her hair. It just seemed right. The flower wasn't a rose or a sunflower. Instead, it was something in-between that seemed Misty-like. He pulled another peach-colored Misty flower from the ground and smushed it into his pocket. Maybe he would give her another one later.
Today, the clouds played throughout the sky, and the sun beamed upon their sweaty foreheads. The familiar sounds of Brock cooking and the younger pokemon playing with the older ones filled his ears. Psyduck waddled around, holding his head and Psyduck!-ing every few seconds to some lullaby Misty would sing to him before she knew how annoying he was. The only noises missing were Misty and his usual arguments. But the day was so perfect, why mess it up?
Misty frowned, her cheeks turning pink. "What you'd do that for, Ketchum?" Across from him, she was laying on her stomach in the grass. This was a rare occasion her hair wasn't in an all-consuming ponytail.
"Dunno, just felt right." Ash folded his hands behind his head. He stretched his back, content to fall asleep.
"Why?"
"Wanted to."
"But why?" she pressed on.
He opened one of his eyes. Just because he didn't feel like arguing didn't mean Misty felt the same.
"I just thought you needed it. Gosh, Misty what bug crawled up your nose?" Ash said, exasperated. Leave it to Misty to ruin the day looking for some deeper meaning.
"Why?" Misty nagged him. She hadn't removed the flower or called him dumb yet. Girls were so weird. If she liked it, why was she bugging him?
Ash stayed quiet for a moment. Only the oh-so-lovely-but-not-really Psyducks! serenaded the campground.
He asked her, "Why do I have to have a reason?"
"Because Ketchum everything has a reason, so why'd you put a random flower in my hair? You never do that any other time. Why now? Right, Brock?" Misty called for their friend too busy cooking to give an answer.
"Well—"
"See! Brock agrees with me." Misty stuck her tongue out.
"Liar! Brock didn't say anything." Ash tried to keep his temper down and sat up. He probably wouldn't take a nap after all.
Her hand slid behind her ear, menacingly twirling the flower stem. "Whatever. Just answer, or I'll throw it away."
Ash's eyes almost bugged out. "Ugh, why are you so—"
"What? Right all the time?"
"No!" he yelled.
"Well, what! I'm so ugly I need a stupid flower?"
"What are you talking about? You're not—"
"Just tell me, Ketchum!" she screeched, standing upon her knees. Her hand, the one not holding the innocent flower he picked hostage, balled into a fist.
"BECAUSE MISTY! Because the flower's pretty." He gestured wildly at the flower then the sunny sky. "The day's pretty. You're pretty. It all goes together! It's like a stupid puzzle! All the pretty things match." When he finished his outburst, he realized he was breathing heavily.
"Oh." She blinked and, for once in a million years, actually shut up. Then, with a satisfied-beautiful smile, she said, "All right, I was just checking. The flower is so cute!"
Ash pulled at his face in annoyance before pulling his cap brim down. "Are you happy now!?"
"Of course!" She parted her bangs and fluffed the back of her hair. "Y'know, Ketchum all you had to do was say so." Now, she was the image of a girl who loved all floral-kind. How could one person be so annoying and cute at the same time?