This chapter is mostly filler leading up to the final chapter. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. I just didn't want to have the last chapter be long.
A crisp beeping is heard.
Disarrayed hair moves across a pillow, tangling all the more.
Long gone are the days when the sunlight is enough to wake this sleeping dead; too many papers and cram sessions have rounded out that enthusiasm. Still, the grin that crests the young man's face is the same as his head tilts left, turning toward a stately nightstand where towers of books stand sentinel around two red and white balls.
The man lurches upward, disturbing a blanketed nest as two arms thrust ceilingward in a spine-popping stretch.
A good stay at a familiar hotel.
Evan glances at the clock, hand shooting out to toggle the switch off. Casting off the fog of sleep, the blonde remembers the day's importance. His chest swells with honor at the prospect of giving this particular speech.
Legs swing over the edge of the grand bed followed by the male's body in a rolling, twisting motion.
Now standing, he glances about the room in fond exasperation. The Lord's Suite is too opulent by far, but refusing even one more time would have been rude.
Balustrades hold in a personal balcony and silken curtains hang from a hand-carved, four-pillar bed. A matching mahogany-stained wardrobe sits by the door, ready to house an unnecessarily vast number of clothes. Marble counters and a heated toilet are found near a Jacuzzi in the master bathroom. The whole place reeks of money, which the guest most certainly lacks.
At barely twenty-six, Evan is better suited for staying on a friend's lumpy couch than anything this extravagant.
The brand new document in his bag, not yet framed, however, claims otherwise. It is astounding what status a flimsy piece of paper can award.
Privacy, for one.
It is a funny thing for the Trainer, staying in a suite closed off from the public.
Evan would have been just as happy staying in one of the other three rooms with their crisp green linens, basic timber-framed beds and small, plain dressers. His hosts, however, were insulted by the very idea of it, practically strong-arming him into this lap of luxury.
Still, it was nice not having random people come and go as they please.
And the carpets were nothing to Sneasel at, either.
The man wiggles toes through woven fibers of plush purple. Despite the intense color for which the suite is named, it proves significantly more comfortable than the hardwood of the other rooms. And much less creaky for guests below.
Evan reaches over, grabbing a notepad and pen from a drawer on the book-laden nightstand. A lazy scrawl leaves the paper with a series of marks before it gets tossed on rumpled sheets.
Turning back to the bedside table, the blonde plucks up one of the half-buried Pokėballs, yawning.
He pads off toward the bathroom, opening a valve to let hot water fill the tub. It is a waste, but he won't get to use the jets. The sphere goes on the counter, just for the moment, as Evan waits for the cauldron to fill with searing liquid.
Minty gel on a stiff little brush makes quick work of morning breath. Then, a foam beard is applied, sending a tickling woodsy smell into the air. It is swept away in the wake of a sharp blade, appearances mattering more than they ever have, today. As embarrassing as it is, even tweezers make their appearance in and around his face.
Morning prep finished, and water having risen to an acceptable level, the tub is turned off.
Testing the incredibly steamy water with a few digits procures a sharp hiss of breath. Scalding. Perfect. Shedding clothes, he gently lowers into the Jacuzzi, trying to get used to the water. Eyes slide almost closed in contentment as submerged skin turns a deep shade of pink.
A lazy gaze drifts to the light switches, then the counter. Eyebrows draw together and the man sighs, before extracting himself from the bath. Water drips on the tile in a line to the door, following barefoot steps before a forgotten fan whooshes to life.
Angling his body right, Evan picks the Pokéball off the marble and returns to the tub. The Trainer plops back into the water, no longer worried about the bite to skin or a genteel entry.
A full-faced grin splits his mouth as a click is heard, and a light flashes. A familiar carp, hardly bigger than an unpeeled coconut, solidifies amidst the steam. The three slender, pearly fins atop her head twitch in bliss, while a derpy smile graces oversized lips.
Evan shakes his head in amusement, knowing full well that nothing could convince the stubborn Magikarp to leave overly hot water. He would be nursing her sick body later, but today was a special occasion.
After a good soak, Evan towels off. Pushing down the metal piece in the bottom of the sink, he turns the water on ice cold. Once filled, the supply to the basin is cut off, and the Trainer places Jewel inside.
Leaving the freshly boiled fishball to cool, he turns to the shower, popping in for a real wash, free from that lovely...aquatic...scent his friend emits in hot water.
Chapter Notes:
-The Hotel is the one in Ambrette, the game's rooms have the green sheets and stuff. But like, the games always show way less than there is of a place then they do in the anime.
-Sneasel is a haughty, pretentious pokemon, and fittingly sounds like the phrase "nothing to sneeze at"
-Somewhere along the line, Jewel develops a taste for taking hot baths.