Look
She knew his mischievous look too well.
When the culprit for half eaten cheesecake could not be found she knew exactly where to point her finger. When someone had unleashed an entire horde of Tauros she was the first to tattle with her own look of pure smugness. When he lost yet another gym - the boy just would not study type effectiveness- he had an inconsolable look of disappointment. The first time she felt pity for him made her realize how far he had come from a bike thief to a friend.
The look he had now? How could she describe it? Content was the closest word to define it.
Of course, he had just asked her to be his girlfriend and she had accepted (after giving him a little hassle).
His eyes were closed and his hand intertwined with her own. The only noise in their mostly peaceful silence was the hum of the wind rustling leaves. They were both rightfully content, and she hoped it would stay that way. Well, as long as there was no cheating or lying. Otherwise, he had better prepare to see her look of wrath and the mallet that came after it.
