Some Sense of Right and Wrong
***
A/N: While waiting for people to review my DBZ, Pokemon, and poetry, I decided to start up this next chapter of Some Sense of Right and Wrong-The Story with No Reviews. Also changed the summary, too. If any of you have been complaining that this is pure mushies, well, no more! Now, we are starting to get intense!
A/N:The rating went up for implied sexual situations-IMPLIED. (and human-human too)
Discaimer: I don't own it. So don't sue me. However, I do own much Pokemon merchandise. I pay your water bill; leave me be.
Some Sense of Right and Wrong
-Ordinary Life
Outside, the gibbous moon hung over a picture of tranquility. The surf slapped gently against the beach, the nearby stand of trees stood still, the green leaves stirring only when a light breeze stroked them. Aside from the steady and comforting rhythm of the waves rushing on the beach, the only noise was the chirping of Heracross and the calls of Hoot-hoot and Noctowl.
Inside a large, airy house on an small hill overlooking the beach, it was also tranquil. Nothing disturbed the pokemon, safe in their training room. In a room decorated with dancing clowns, Marie peacefully slept, cuddling a Teddiursa plushie. Indeed, the house was the picture of peace, despite the death of Belle.
Except for the master bedroom.
There, Drake lay on his back, his forehead creased with worry, tearstreaks still on his cheeks. Martha, her frame small compared to that of her husband's, was curled up facing him. She had been sleeping fitfully that night, after her tears had finished falling. But Drake was aloof from the world, running circles in his mind, focusing on one thing: How was he ever going to go back to his ordinary life? Belle was a part of whatever he did. How would he keep the memories from surfacing and tearing him apart?
Drake was startled out of his reverie when Martha curled up next to him, hanging on to him like he was a life preserver, in the grips of a frightening dream. For an instant Drake was startled, but his face softened almost immediately. He looked at his wife with love and compassion. Ever since Belle had contracted the lung-rot, he had been paying less attention to his family, he realized. He had chased every vet, Pokecenter, and medicine possible to save Belle, but at his family's expense. When he wasn't running the gym with his other five pokemon (also very morose), he was at the hospital, watching over Belle, neglecting his own family.
And yet, despite all that he was putting them through, all his selfish demands, they had stood behind him. Martha had sacrificed hours at her job to watch Marie after school. She had helped provide the money that Drake wasted in an effort to find treatment for Belle, Drake even going as far as Cianwood, Johto, to their legendary pharmacy. Nothing. Thousands of dollars, gone.
Drake reached over and gently stroked Martha's cheek, trying to gently rouse her from her dream. Her green eyes flashed open wide with fear, and she broke out in a cold sweat. She took a few deep breaths and looked up at the smiling face of her husband, Drake, inches from hers, gently stroking her face with his hands. Her breathing slowed; here in Drake's arms, she felt safe.
Drake looked at his wife, his wonderful beautiful Martha. Her face wasn't pale, it was golden, like a true Orange Islander. Her auburn hair fell to just below her shoulder blades, each smooth silken strand perfect in Drake's eyes. 'Even through all the darkness of these recent times,' Drake thought, 'There is still a light at the end of the tunnel. I am lucky enough that that light is right here, next to me.'
Drake shifted his body so that he was caressing Martha's face with both hands, so lightly, so gently, as if he thought she might break. His eyes spelled out such passion, such joy to be with her, such love, that Martha could not help but smile. Leaning in, Drake ran butterfly kisses down her jaw, closing his eyes in bliss. It had been far too long.
Pulling back, Drake looked into her eyes, seeing the love bubbling to the surface. "I'm so, so sorry," Drake said, running one hand through her hand. He didn't say it, but Martha knew, that he was saying how much he regretted neglecting her and Marie. Drake tenderly touched his lips to hers. She responded, pressing harder, letting his tongue slip between her lips to taste her mouth. Martha welcomed it. It had been too long.
Drake withdrew his tongue and broke the kiss. "I'm sorry, Martha," he crooned, softly, his face inches from hers. She shivered at the feel of his hot breath on her skin. "Let me make it up to you..."
Underneath the gibbous moon, Drake and Martha made slow, sweet love, and a first step was formed in accepting their new reality.
***
Well, I know I said that things would get more intense this chapter (and in a way it did ^_^;;), but it wouldn't read right to start that part after this...near-miss lemon? But since I'm uploading chapter four at the same time as this, well, it shouldn't matter. Right? Now, read and REVIEW, damn it! I don't need water, I don't need food, I don't need shelter, just give me REVIEWS!! (that jingle/poem is c. to the Snood people) Well, okay now. The Girliegyarados has left the building, and remember: "You un-peppy bunch of people!"
***
A/N: While waiting for people to review my DBZ, Pokemon, and poetry, I decided to start up this next chapter of Some Sense of Right and Wrong-The Story with No Reviews. Also changed the summary, too. If any of you have been complaining that this is pure mushies, well, no more! Now, we are starting to get intense!
A/N:The rating went up for implied sexual situations-IMPLIED. (and human-human too)
Discaimer: I don't own it. So don't sue me. However, I do own much Pokemon merchandise. I pay your water bill; leave me be.
Some Sense of Right and Wrong
-Ordinary Life
Outside, the gibbous moon hung over a picture of tranquility. The surf slapped gently against the beach, the nearby stand of trees stood still, the green leaves stirring only when a light breeze stroked them. Aside from the steady and comforting rhythm of the waves rushing on the beach, the only noise was the chirping of Heracross and the calls of Hoot-hoot and Noctowl.
Inside a large, airy house on an small hill overlooking the beach, it was also tranquil. Nothing disturbed the pokemon, safe in their training room. In a room decorated with dancing clowns, Marie peacefully slept, cuddling a Teddiursa plushie. Indeed, the house was the picture of peace, despite the death of Belle.
Except for the master bedroom.
There, Drake lay on his back, his forehead creased with worry, tearstreaks still on his cheeks. Martha, her frame small compared to that of her husband's, was curled up facing him. She had been sleeping fitfully that night, after her tears had finished falling. But Drake was aloof from the world, running circles in his mind, focusing on one thing: How was he ever going to go back to his ordinary life? Belle was a part of whatever he did. How would he keep the memories from surfacing and tearing him apart?
Drake was startled out of his reverie when Martha curled up next to him, hanging on to him like he was a life preserver, in the grips of a frightening dream. For an instant Drake was startled, but his face softened almost immediately. He looked at his wife with love and compassion. Ever since Belle had contracted the lung-rot, he had been paying less attention to his family, he realized. He had chased every vet, Pokecenter, and medicine possible to save Belle, but at his family's expense. When he wasn't running the gym with his other five pokemon (also very morose), he was at the hospital, watching over Belle, neglecting his own family.
And yet, despite all that he was putting them through, all his selfish demands, they had stood behind him. Martha had sacrificed hours at her job to watch Marie after school. She had helped provide the money that Drake wasted in an effort to find treatment for Belle, Drake even going as far as Cianwood, Johto, to their legendary pharmacy. Nothing. Thousands of dollars, gone.
Drake reached over and gently stroked Martha's cheek, trying to gently rouse her from her dream. Her green eyes flashed open wide with fear, and she broke out in a cold sweat. She took a few deep breaths and looked up at the smiling face of her husband, Drake, inches from hers, gently stroking her face with his hands. Her breathing slowed; here in Drake's arms, she felt safe.
Drake looked at his wife, his wonderful beautiful Martha. Her face wasn't pale, it was golden, like a true Orange Islander. Her auburn hair fell to just below her shoulder blades, each smooth silken strand perfect in Drake's eyes. 'Even through all the darkness of these recent times,' Drake thought, 'There is still a light at the end of the tunnel. I am lucky enough that that light is right here, next to me.'
Drake shifted his body so that he was caressing Martha's face with both hands, so lightly, so gently, as if he thought she might break. His eyes spelled out such passion, such joy to be with her, such love, that Martha could not help but smile. Leaning in, Drake ran butterfly kisses down her jaw, closing his eyes in bliss. It had been far too long.
Pulling back, Drake looked into her eyes, seeing the love bubbling to the surface. "I'm so, so sorry," Drake said, running one hand through her hand. He didn't say it, but Martha knew, that he was saying how much he regretted neglecting her and Marie. Drake tenderly touched his lips to hers. She responded, pressing harder, letting his tongue slip between her lips to taste her mouth. Martha welcomed it. It had been too long.
Drake withdrew his tongue and broke the kiss. "I'm sorry, Martha," he crooned, softly, his face inches from hers. She shivered at the feel of his hot breath on her skin. "Let me make it up to you..."
Underneath the gibbous moon, Drake and Martha made slow, sweet love, and a first step was formed in accepting their new reality.
***
Well, I know I said that things would get more intense this chapter (and in a way it did ^_^;;), but it wouldn't read right to start that part after this...near-miss lemon? But since I'm uploading chapter four at the same time as this, well, it shouldn't matter. Right? Now, read and REVIEW, damn it! I don't need water, I don't need food, I don't need shelter, just give me REVIEWS!! (that jingle/poem is c. to the Snood people) Well, okay now. The Girliegyarados has left the building, and remember: "You un-peppy bunch of people!"
